The Good

Christmas weekend marked the third trip to the hospital for myself in the past 8 weeks. These three visits gave me a lot to think about and write about, and I will be using my blog to work through some of the emotional/mental struggles I have with the past few weeks. These posts will serve as a journal for me. I shall name these hospital visits... The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

The Good

Sweet Sophia Bliss made her entrance into the world precisely when she was ready: October 30th, her due date. I had my 40 week appointment that morning at 10. I had never made a 40 week appointment in my life and was feeling equal parts proud of my body and impatiently awaiting my sweet daughter's arrival. I remember waking up that morning before the sun and making a note on my phone that reads... "40 weeks! My body aches, but my heart is content with you tucked so close to it. See you soon, baby."

Nana had come to stay with us for awhile. We were all eager for the baby to come, and honestly shocked that she hadn't come yet. I don't know how long we decided Nana would stay, but I have a feeling she wasn't leaving until baby came.

Hubs and I headed to our appointment. Both of us anxious to hear that I had dilated more, or that any progress was happening! The doctor came in and we chatted about how today was my due date and if I had ever been pregnant that long. I laughed, anxiously, impatiently. She got down to business and checked everything out. Sister measured at 41 weeks, I believe. My blood pressure was good. Her heart rate was good. Doc went to check inside and reported that I was still a 3. At which point a little piece of me sighed in disappointment. Then she goes, "Oh wow. Your water bag is right there. Like, RIGHT here. Do you want me to strip your membranes for you?" Yes, please yes. After that, she came up slowly and looked at me funny. She said, "Do you feel wet?" Yes, but I assume it's just from the gel you used. "Well, I think I just broke your water when I did that. I've never done that before." WHAT?! Seriously?! "Yeah, why don't you hang out here, walk around a little bit, here's a pad. And then I can check again in a little bit." !!!!!!!!!!!! Ok!


Two days before Baby Sisser's birth day

Doctor exits the room. Hubs and I look at each other. I'm smiling so big it hurts! He is still holding back excitement. We have had a false labor alarm this pregnancy, so he is just not going to get excited until I'm crowning, I think. I get dressed, walk around the little exam room, chat with hubby about what an exciting day this might turn out to be and 7-10 minutes later, I feel a gush! A GUSH! Exactly what every 40 week pregnant mama wants to feel! The doctor comes back, she offers to check to see if the water bag was deflated and I said, yes please, we want to be sure this time. No more false alarms! It doesn't take long for her to confirm that we are indeed having a baby soon. Thank you, Jesus.

We are advised to go home, eat something, get our things and head to the hospital where they will be ready for us. We arrive home to all of our kiddos anxiously awaiting any news. I was thankful Nana was there, especially since the girls did not have school this day. This day also happened to be Liliana's half birthday. When we walked through the door, I reported I was still at a 3 (not a lie) and that baby was good (also, not a lie). Then I looked at Lil, grabbed her sweet face and said, "Happy half birthday. Dad and I got you something. We decided to have baby sister today." Chaos, confusion, excitement and explanation.. Mama's water broke and we are going in! That was our last moment as a family of five.

Bags? Check. Birthing ball? Check. Snack? Check. Let's go! We are all smiles and excitement heading downtown to meet our precious baby girl. Hubs calls his boss to report the good news and to start his vacation time. I twiddle my thumbs, eat my snack and mentally prepare for my epidural-free birth. We arrive at the hospital and enter the parking garage to find a spot. I'm talking a mile a minute, so excited for what's about to happen! Then I realize we are stopped and this guy in front of us is honking at us to back up so he can have the spot he just passed. Well, we would, but there are 2 cars behind us that aren't moving either. Next thing I know, we are rammed into by this guy and then he takes off. Yes, I'm in labor at the hospital and we get involved in a hit and run. Unbelievable! The drivers behind us both get out and talk to hubs, give him information to contact them if he needs witnesses. Our van is dead in the water. The front end is smashed in and the radiator is smoking. Good thing we have no where else to be right now! My heart is racing, but we are ok. No one is injured. One of the drivers comes back to let us know that the guy that hit us is parked on the floor above us. Seriously? Hubs takes off running as I shout-- Don't do anything stupid!! He comes back with pictures and proof that he hit us. That driver was no where to be found but we have enough for the police. C'mon, babe, let's go have this baby.

We are all checked in, settling in our room, I have my flattering hospital gown on and we are

all hooked up, checking baby sister out. It's about noon. We are watching HGTV and hubs is pacing. I know the accident is on his mind and he needs to work out the details before it consumes his whole day. We hear sister, I'm still at a three, the nurse offers me a popsicle, I'm comfortable and contractions are sporadic and not hard at all. That would be discouraging, but I know my water broke and they won't send me home. The doctor on call (the one that delivered Drake, actually) tells me to walk around for an hour and see if we can't get things going. We stroll the hallways, giddy and ready. After an hour, we head back to our room to get a new report. Or not....still at a 3. The doctor comes in and suggests some Pitocin to get things going, kind of jump start my body into labor. She says, "We can wait and watch baby for another hour, and then it might be a good idea to start Pitocin." I smile and agree. I am fine with anything at this point, I just want to meet our baby!
With everything going just fine, I tell hubs to call the police and go deal with that while we wait. So he does.

An hour later, the Pitocin drip starts. I'm still very comfortable, Hubs is now content with the police report being filed, and we are ready to go. The Pitocin starts to do it's job. I am contracting more frequently, and they are gradually getting more intense. It's ok, I trained for this! Breathe, breathe, every contraction brings me closer to bringing this baby into the world.

It's nearly 4 o'clock now and with each contraction I have to stop and really concentrate. These are getting intense and they are coming fast. They slow down my Pitocin drip but...oh wow. I am feeling every bit of these. There is a short break between contractions, but not much. With each one, Hubs warns me of the start and holds my hand til he can reassure me that it is coming back down and that it's almost over. I am still texting and updating friends and family occasionally at this point.

All outside communication is cut off. We need all hands on deck to get through each contraction now. It's a little after 5 p.m., I am laying on my side and slightly panicking... These hurt. I have never felt a more intense pain. It takes over my whole body. 5:30... I tell Hubs that I can't do this. A nurse offers to give me some fentanyl to take the edge off. I nod my head yes. Hubs holds my face and tells me, "You CAN do this. Your body was made for this." And just like that, I'm ready. With each contraction, my body tenses. I can hear the nurse telling me not to push. I can hear Hubs telling me to relax and breath. But everything in me is tensing and I don't feel like I can stop it. There's a rush of nurses and finally I hear my doctor asking me if I'm ready to have this baby. (I later find out that they were in the middle of a doctor change. Dr. Booth was off at 6, and Dr. Lange thought "I should head in to work a little early." Then she got a phone call from the nurses saying I was at a 7 and will be ready soon. By the time she got there, I was ready to push. From past babies, I know that I go from 6/7-10 really fast. This time was no different. 15 minutes.)

It's now 6 o'clock. "Rachel, we need you to lay on your back, can you do that?" Do you think I could push on my side like this? "I would say yes, but with the size of your baby, I think it would be best if you could push on your back." Ok. Whatever you say! "There we go. Ok, are you ready to meet your baby girl?"

6:12 p.m. I hear her crying so loud. She is not fully born but man, does she have a set of lungs on her!

6:15 p.m. The pain stops. And there is a sweet, squishy, precious, beautiful baby girl laid on my chest. She is crying and it is the most beautiful noise in the world (as Drake was taken by the NICU nurses and given an oxygen mask right away after he was born). I know her name the minute I meet her and it couldn't be more perfect... Sophia Bliss. Oh how I love her. They help me get situated with skin-to-skin contact and she nurses right away. It is the most perfect start to life with Sophia. I keep wondering when they will take her to clean her up and weigh her and get her foot prints...The nurse assures me that there is absolutely no rush. They will weigh her when I am ready. We stay like this, in our little bubble, for an hour or so. Finally, curiosity gets the best of me, and I need to know how big she is. I mean, look at these cheeks!! Earlier that morning, my OB guessed maybe 7 or 8 pounds. They lay her on the scale and Hubs' eyes are suddenly huge. "She's 9 lbs. 6 oz., Babe! 20.5 inches long." Ohmygoodness. I birthed that.

I had a friend ask me if I got to experience the birth I planned for. And I thought long and hard about that and I can say "yes". The only expectations I had were to go epidural free and to hold my sweet baby at the end of it. And I did that. And I would do it again.

The next two days are hard and beautiful and cherished forever. Hard, because once Drake was able to come visit me and baby sister, he did NOT want to leave. And my hormones were all over the place. He cried when it was time to leave and it broke me. He had been my baby for 3 years. Now, here with this new baby, I felt like I had betrayed him. Beautiful, because obviously. Sophia is gorgeous, and perfectly plump, and people are waiting on me with food and help. It's wonderful. Cherished, because those days I will never get back. Those days of getting to know her, how she prefers to nurse, what her cries mean, staring into her eyes. Those are sweet sweet memories.

Emotionally, I was doing ok. Easily tearing up at things, but definitely finding joy and purpose just fine. Not falling into the black hole that is postpartum depression. Drake keeps me giggling. And the love filling our house is overwhelmingly blissful. One week after coming home from the hospital and sharing her name with everyone, my grandma unexpectedly passes away. Grief feels different than depression and I am weary with grief over this loss. Grief that Sophia will not know her great grandma this side of heaven. Grief that I didn't savor our last visit with her. All the regret...all the sorrow...and yet, this Blissy Babe fills my heart and daily brings me joy. Grandma wouldn't want it any other way. And I know she and Grandpa are watching every moment of Sophie's life and loving on her from above.  

Physical recovery without an epidural during labor is now my preference. I was able to get up and walk around as soon as she was born. My back didn't hurt from a giant needle. I had no anxiety about a spinal headache. My body was bouncing back and I could not have been happier with the way it was recovering. At least for the next week or two...It was easy and good.