Now Entering Parenthood...

He’s here!! Weighing in at a whopping 8 lbs 9 oz, Charles Martin Strickland arrived to the outside world on Thursday, June 23rd at 9:42 AM.

For those not interested in birth stories, skip this post and read the next one… it’s cuter, has pictures, and does not contain the word “vagina”.

The Birth Story of Baby Charlie
I don’t get to begin this story “on a dark and snowy night”… Charlie was born in the exact opposite season from Simon. In fact, on Wednesday afternoon I had taken a chance against the impending rain and took Simon to his first waterpark. It was a great way to spend my very last day as the mother of only one baby.

I kinda knew that night was going to be the night, but I have been trying REALLY hard not to get excited when my “intuition” speaks for fear of disappointment. The night before I had been kept awake by 3 hours of pains that I kept anticipating would turn into contractions, and I wasn’t too keen on having another restless night unless it was the real deal. And just like many women say over and over again, when it is the “real deal” you know it… or so you hope.

Why Do Contractions Always Start In The Middle of the Night?
At 2:30 AM early Thursday morning, I started feeling contractions. After reading up on false vs real labor previously, I was fairly certain these were real contractions. They weren’t in my belly, they were “down there” low and echoed into my back and outer thighs. They would last a good solid minute, and after some experimenting I figured out that they weren’t going away when I moved into different positions.

What’s weird about the whole “experiment” is that I wanted so badly for them to be real that I was actually afraid to make the disappear. I spent the first hours of my labor not “dealing” with contractions but challenging them and willing them to return. It wasn’t until about 4:30 AM that I decided these were real and I should have a good long soak in the tub to relax myself. At that point, they were still only coming every 7-8 minutes apart and the pain was very manageable.

The “life” of a contraction… from the minute they started until the minute they ended I was shocked at how consistent my contractions were in duration and “style”, varying only in interval and intensity. They always lasted 60-90 seconds. Like a wave, the pain would build up and peak at 30 seconds, very intense ache in my vagina. Then the pain would dissipate into my lower back and outer thighs. If it was a “bad” contraction, the pain in my thighs could last a long time and be pretty miserable. Like punishment from having done a million squats a previous day.

At 5:00 AM it was time to convince Tom to wake the hell up… he was not really so convinced but mostly grunting in his sleep. I was impatient and told him that I would time the next couple contractions on my phone to show him this was no false labor. The next few contractions came even further apart but were so intense that I was starting to have to do breathing and humming to get through them.

This Ain’t No False Labor, Baby
Enough was enough, it was hospital time, and I knew that meant calling my mom and waiting another hour for her arrival. While Tom was on the phone with my mom, my contractions started picking up and coming 4-6 minutes apart. After he got off the phone and said something to the effect of… “I told her we’d give her a confirmation call on her way to be sure these don’t go away”. I showed him my phone marking contractions 4 minutes apart. “Oh shit!!” he says… “Umm, yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, these aren’t going away, so you can officially wake up now”

I make fun of him, because after that point Tom was nothing but helpful and supportive. Turns out I had freaked him out about false labor almost as much as I had done for myself, so lesson learned ladies.

In what seemed like it took forever of waiting in our bed upstairs watching a horrible episode of some home design show, my mom finally arrived at 7:00 AM. I was feeling very anxious to get to the hospital. Contractions were making me very restless and I decided to walk around during the last few… which is when stuff started going at lightning speeds. Within two minutes of my mom’s arrival, I lost my mucus plug (for real this time), was fairly certain my water was about to break, told Tom we needed to go NOW, and was on the road to the hospital.

7:30 AM… arrive at hospital. Contractions seem to be more bearable en route and waiting at check in desk, although I was kind of pissed they let the induction patient register before me. So I made sure not to hide it when I did have a contraction while waiting to get into triage.

7:45 AM… triage, we are hoping for “big numbers” here. The nurse is quick to do all the necessary checks (ultrasound, vitals) before the big one (cervix). I am quick to tell her I want an epidural this time, and I don’t want to miss my window. She checks my cervix, I am at 7 cms, completely effaced and a “bulging bag of waters”. Lightning speeds just escalated to light speeds and I can feel that epidural window start to close.

No Pain, No Gain? Or… How I Missed My Epidural Again!!
Things begin to get a bit blurry. I don’t remember my contractions really from the minute we left home up until the whirlwind of nurses and papers and questions slowed down. At that point things were getting really intense, although I still had time to rest and sign paperwork in between. What I do remember is insane pain in my legs and waiting forever for the results of my platelet count to come back in order to get the damn epidural.

At what must have been already after 9:00 AM… one of the nurses began acting as a birthing coach with Tom and I. She moved me onto my side to help relieve the pain in my legs. She was giving me leg and back rubs. And, lord help her, she began to convince me that getting an epidural was not really in the cards.

I will not lie. I was devastated. I was terrified. I knew I was on brink of pushing, and the idea of doing it again without any sort of pain relief scared the crap out of me. I just literally did not think I could do it, and then… just like last time… my water broke and I knew I had no choice. I was on a speeding train and it had already left the station.

Right before my water broke and for the time after, every contraction would now come with a period of time where I was involuntarily forced to “bear down”. Like vomiting or orgasming, I don’t know how anyone in the world could actually fight this urge. I just simply had to do it. My body wanted the baby out and the sooner the better.

This time, the doctors gave me a lot more instruction, for better or for worse, during the pushing phase. Some of it was too much for me to take in the moment, like having to pull my own legs up to my chest and put my chin down. Some of it was really helpful. Every time I felt the “fire”, which I can only assume was my skin pulling or tearing a bit too much, they told me to SLOW DOWN and do little pushes. As a result, I walked away with barely a tear, only a few stitches, and no episiotomy.

And Out Pops Charlie…
The doctor made me feel Charlie’s head with each push. I wasn’t really all about that, until I felt it the second time and realize how far he had made it with one push, from about 3 inches in to right there at the exit. I only had to give about 4-5 good pushes during the whole “push” phase to get him out!! And like that, he was here in the world.

Now, when they lay your new slimy child on your chest, maybe for some mothers an insane pride and instinct takes over. Although, from the TV shows I’ve seen, most moms look and feel just about like I did. You are overwhelmed, and you just aren’t exactly ready to handle the new life that is currently laying on your belly… and really you are just ready for the team of people to back away from your vagina and leave you alone to recover from what just happened.

Slowly but surely that happens, and with every passing hour, the pain and intensity of what you just endured fades… Natures wonderful way of making sure that we continue to procreate even after going through something so painful.

Rating the Pain… Induction Vs. Natural Birth
I am mostly writing this post for the women I know who have yet to go through a birth experience. Every birth story is unique, but I found reading in detail about other people’s experiences helpful for me to understand what is profoundly scary and hard to anticipate. Even though I had gone through it once before, I was fairly scared this time around, since I had never been through a “natural” birth and was hoping I got to experience it.

So… what was different? What was the same? Well, pushing without an epidural was exactly the same, equally as nerve-wracking. I wouldn’t recommend it unless you are facing down the situations I was. I am glad I did not get an epidural both times, because frankly it wouldn’t have done a damn thing and I would have been stuck with numb legs for hours afterwards. Plus, this time around having a doctor that actually stopped me from tearing myself up, I actually appreciated feeling where my limits were when it came to pushing. Apparently I’m not supposed to push until I tear myself up. Thanks Dr. Davidson!!

What else was the same? The escalation at the very end. Feeling the intense urge to push, popping my own bag of waters by bearing down and feeling relief that I was actually able to do SOMETHING (anything) during contractions besides just distract myself with breathing and humming.

What was different? EVERYTHING ELSE!! My induced contractions came one after the other after the other. They were like waves crashing on shore during a big storm. There was no break, there was no time to breath or recover (let alone answer questions and sign paperwork). And as a result, I was exhausted, insane, not dilating, and had to take a narcotic to relax enough to let nature take its course.

My non-induced contractions never came closer than 3 minutes apart. Some were pretty intense, but some were downright tolerable. At their height I was still able to breath and try and distract myself without hyperventilating or going into an emotional break down. The “height” was probably a twenty minute period right before my water broke versus a 2 hour period that still seems like the longest worst slowest time in my life.

So… my message after going through both is exactly as I had thought and hoped it would be. Try try try with all your might to not go through induction if you don’t have to, and if you do have to, don’t beat yourself up for taking some drugs or doing whatever you need to make it work for you.

Baby Charlie Meets His Brother Simon…
Since our 24 hours in the hospital was pretty second nature and boring, I’ll skip right to the good stuff. I’m breaking it into another post, so people not interested in reading birth stories don’t ever have to skip through the insane journal entry I just posted above :)