Introducing Baby Boaz

Our precious eighth child and fourth son, Boaz Laurent, arrived on Friday, April 14th at 3:24 pm.  He weighed in at 8lbs 3oz and was 20.5 inches long.  His birth story began on Thursday evening.  I finished up my last teaching appointment before starting my maternity leave at 7:30pm.  At 8:30 I felt like I just needed to take a walk.  It was getting dark and it was pretty cold, but I felt like it was a good idea.  After a 30 minute walk, I felt restless but settled into bed and felt drowsy enough to put down my book and try to go to sleep.  That wasn't happening though, and as 11:00 approached I felt increasingly restless and uncomfortable and decided to take a shower just in case.  I felt like maybe this was going to be the night...  And then I fell asleep.  Well, that was disappointing.  But around 4:00 I woke up again to some painful contractions.  I woke James up at that point and the contractions persisted for a good hour, about 7-8 minutes apart.  We called my doctor's answering service and they suggested going to Labor & Delivery, but shortly afterwards, the contractions fizzled back out.  So, at 5:30 James and I headed out for another 30 minute walk in the neighborhood, this time in the light rain.  That kept them going for a while, but again they faded out, so we got the kids ready for school and decided we could just head to my scheduled 9:20 appointment and speak to my OB.  We packed up our hospital bags just in case and headed downtown.  At our appointment, oh glorious news - I'd made progress from 2.5 centimeters dilated last week to 4 centimeters.  That, combined with my sporadic contractions and bloody show, was enough for my OB to say the magic words "Why don't you head on over to Labor & Delivery and I'll meet you there during my lunch break?".  We were SO excited - this was exactly how I hoped this baby's delivery would go, slow and controlled.  So, we went across the street to the hospital, got checked in and the IV started (no 30 minute drama this time, she got it in right away, which was crucial if I was to get the epidural I so wanted this time) and moved from triage to our room.  Contractions were sporadic and weak, so we walked the halls for an hour or so.  After that, my OB popped in and asked if I was open to her breaking my water and I said absolutely.  As soon as that happened (about 1:00), the contractions started almost immediately.  I asked for and received a perfect epidural within 30 minutes of true labor starting (yay!).  Unfortunately, at that point, my perfect labor took a bit of a detour.  Baby wasn't responding favorably to my contractions.  He showed serious decels through the duration of every contraction - his heart rate getting down into the 50s.  His recovery after the contractions was good, but it was easy to see that, as shifting positions didn't help, the room was getting a bit tense.  After about an hour and a half of this, I begin to feel real fear, something I've never experienced during a birth.  I remember praying hard - promising God that I no longer cared if they had to do a c-section, even under general anesthesia, none of that mattered so long as my baby was fine.  Fortunately, my doctor has a very calm personality, and prevented me from panicking too much.  She did, however, want me to start pushing a bit prematurely (I was about 9 centimeters) and get the baby delivered.  That's how I knew that, although the staff was all very reassuring, they were concerned.  The pushing was intense, moreso than some other labors.  I had to work really hard this time!  After about 20 minutes, the OB called for the vacuum (baby was just super displeased about this whole process).  But I was finally able to get him under the pelvic bone on my own, and pushed him out about 5 minutes later all on my own. The epidural did wear off during that phase, so I was so lucky (haha) to get to experience the whole ring of fire again.  He came out much more purple than any of my other babies, and his apgar scores were the lowest too, a 7 and an 8.  You could tell the whole process of labor and birth was difficult on him.  He was born with a nuchal cord (cord wrapped around the neck), which is pretty common and usually not much of a problem, but in his case, it absolutely was a problem - it had been badly compressed during every contraction, especially as he moved down.  I'm so grateful that this was not my first baby, because it would have ended in a true emergency c-section because I wouldn't have been able to have the fast labor that I had.  I can see in all of this story so clearly the hand of the Lord.  He ordained that I would have a weird labor pattern of fitful stops and starts that has never happened before.  He knew that Boaz needed to be born now, and that he needed to be born in a controlled but fast manner.  As I write this, I tear up a little still, one month later, out of gratitude for God's goodness that brought this much-loved baby into the world safe and sound.  He is good, always.

Graeme's Birth Story

I so wanted to have this put down in writing, but I didn't want to actually do it.  How's that for not making sense? lol  But my need to document things outweighed my laziness, so here it is (drumroll, please): Graeme Paul's Birth Story

My seventh pregnancy was incredibly easy and blissful.  It was problem and nearly-symptom free, despite being Advanced Maternal Age.  Until the last three weeks.  It was still problem free, from a medical perspective, but I totally lost it.  I think that Elle's early birth at 38 weeks made me erroneously assume that this little guy would also arrive before his due date.  That mindset made the days, as I hit and passed 38 weeks, then 39 weeks, and then my due date, feel interminably long.  Even though I knew in my head that it wouldn't last forever and it would seem like no big deal after he finally arrived, whenever that would be, my emotions got the best of me.  I was so miserable, and on top of that, I felt guilty for feeling miserable because baby and I were healthy.  I just wanted to go into hiding as October 2nd (my EDD) came and went.  My OB did not want me to go past 41 weeks, and, after a lot of back and forth, at 40 weeks 4 days, I did something I had promised myself I would never do again.  I was so desperate that I decided to try the Castor Oil (dun, dun, duuun).  I had used it before with Ian, and it had (maybe, obviously you can never be 100% sure) worked.  There were definitely unpleasant side effects, but I went into labor a few hours after I took it.  So, I threw my better judgement to the wind, but somewhat cautiously, only opting for a small dose at about 10am on Tuesday, October 6th, hoping that at least it'd make me dilate or efface a bit more for my 2:00 OB appointment.  After swigging down 1 ounce of castor oil mixed with orange juice, I waited.  And was met with crickets.  It didn't really do anything.  I gave up, frustrated, and consigned myself to making my first "overdue" OB appointment.  Pretty quickly after climbing into bed for my afternoon nap around 12:30 I started feeling sick to my stomach.  Ah, the dreaded castor oil had finally worked its evil magic.  I visited the restroom several times and feared for the drive down to my OB's office (would I be able to make it without pit stops?).  James arrived to pick me up at about 1:00 and off we went, with a planned stop necessary for James to do some work on the way to my appointment, we headed off around 1:15 or so.  About ten minutes into our drive, a contraction hit.  Now, I'd been having contractions for weeks, sometimes even rhythmical for a while, so I didn't put too much stock in it.  Plus it was short, only about 30 seconds, tops.  About 3 to 4 minutes later, another contraction hit, slightly stronger.  And so it continued, extremely patterned, and progressively stronger, for the next 15 minutes or so.  He stopped at his work stop and those minutes he was inside their office felt like forever.  At that point, it was time to turn around and lean over the truck seat.  When James came back out and saw that I had assumed the "position", he made a call to my OB's office, who instructed us to skip the appointment and go straight to Labor and Delivery.  Then he made a second call to my doula, who would meet us at the hospital.  The 15 minute drive to the hospital took forever.  The pains were already very intense, but I remember thinking that it probably looked funny to everyone driving down State Street to see the woman kneeling on the front seat and moaning (did we hit every possible stoplight?  it felt like it).  At about 2:00, we finally arrived in the hospital and the walk from the parking garage into the hospital and through the main lobby and up to the second floor was hard - I hate not being in control and I wasn't completely in control at that point and I was crying because of the pain (and I had to use the restroom again).  We were immediately admitted into a triage room and they checked me and I was 5cm dilated and 100% effaced - definitely in labor.  And, at that point, the pain subsided a bit, and I worried that I would have to have some augmentation.  But no worries, after a 30 minute stay in the triage area, I was led to my room, and labor shifted into high gear quickly.  I was required to have a heplock, as a VBAC patient, and my veins are tricky.  Which meant that it took three different nurses about 6 attempts in multiple places on both arms another 30 minutes, while I'm in very active labor, to try and get the IV in.  After blowing up some veins and leaving me with some spectacular bruises, success!, although it had to be placed on top of my hand, unfortunately.  I was handling labor well at this point, standing up, with the support of James and my doula.  But my legs were trembling and felt very tired, so we had to move to some different positions.  This proved to be my undoing.  I just could not get comfortable.  I tried the birth ball, the toilet, kneeling - none of it provided any relief.  The worst of it was the intense need to pee - it must have been how he was positioned, but I felt like I continually had to go to the bathroom (nothing there, though), but I knew it wasn't the rectal pressure of full dilatation.  And my L&D nurse did a quick exam in one of those positions and, after an hour of hard, regular contractions, the news that I hadn't dilated anymore was positively crushing to my desire to do things unmedicated.  At this point, I asked for the epidural.  My doula suggested that now might be the time to consider the nitrous oxide.  I readily agreed.  It helped a bit, for the in between contraction part, but did nothing for the pain of the contractions.  I asked for the epidural again, but the epidural requires that you be given two bags of IV fluids before administration.  Upon my loudly-expressed desire, they started the fluids, but everyone in the room (even me, although I just needed reassurance that they were at least TRYING to get me the epidural) knew that I was going to deliver before an epidural could happen.  I tried to block that knowledge out and finally climbed into bed with the peanut ball in between my legs and held onto that nitrous mask as if it was my lifeline.  In fact, post-delivery, the bridge of my nose was super sore and it took me a while to figure out that that was from pushing the nitrous mask so hard into my face.  The time from that point out is a complete and total blur - it could have been minutes, or it could have been hours.  I felt completely out of my mind.  I just hovered as far away as I could from the events that were transpiring as a way to cope with the trauma of the intense pain.  I vaguely remember my OB coming in, but not much else.  I was finally instructed that I need to move from my side to my back (a Herculean effort, if ever I've experienced one) to start pushing.  Now, here finally was what I was waiting for - the desire to feel the urge to push, which I'd never experience before.  And, it was nothing like I expected it to be.  I felt a desire, alright, but more a desire to just escape the pressure that had engulfed my entire nether regions.  Pushing didn't bring me relief, per se, I just did what I was told to do, hoping that they were right.  It took a long time - I found out after the fact that his head was huge (98% percentile), but then he was also broad-shouldered, and so he didn't slide out easily, and I had to work hard to pass both areas, but he arrived at 5:26 pm, about three and a half hours after I checked into L&D.  The doctor laid him on my stomach and I remember feeling slightly disgruntled about that, which was definitely a first for me.  The pain (without an epidural, pushing out the placenta was unpleasant, I found) had left me shell shocked and traumatized, and all I wanted was to be able to feel like myself again.  I didn't experience the euphoria or empowerment I'd heard you're "supposed" to experience after natural birth and I didn't feel the immediate bond and love that I'd had with my other kids - my brain remained in its numb state for a good thirty minutes after delivery.  The kids came in pretty quickly to meet their little brother, and everything was still a bit fuzzy for me.  We even forgot to take family pictures, which is something I've done every time.  Everyone except Graeme and I left to go have dinner and then the baby care nurses came in and did his assessment.  I enjoyed the peace and quiet at that moment and was finally starting to feel more like myself.  He weighed in at a (for me) whopping 8lbs8oz (my previous largest baby was a 42 weeker at 7lbs11oz) and was 20 inches long.

In reflection, I feel almost as shocked by my first natural (the hospital staff considered nitrous usage to be still classified as a "natural" birth, I'm sure others disagree, but whatever you want to classify it as, it was definitely a non-epidural birth) birth as I did by my unexpected c-section with my first.  It was a wildly different experience than I'd dreamed it to be, and from what I heard nearly every other woman describe it as.  I felt traumatized by it, mentally foggy, and not entirely present.  My brain handled the pain by withdrawing from the situation and that lasted clear through the actually delivery part, which I didn't expect.  People usually cite wanting to be fully present as a reason for seeking a natural childbirth, and the irony of this birth was that I actually felt LESS present than in any of my other previous births.  I entered into this animal-like state of existence, and wasn't fully cognizant of what was going on around me.  I feel a bit like a non-participant in Graeme's birth.  Clearly, I'm going to have to work through some stuff, and my feelings of trauma have lessened already as two weeks have gone by.  I absolutely adore my little boy now (way more than I have with previous newborns), but I feel like an anomaly - a woman that desperately wanted, but ended up hating natural childbirth.  In fact, it kind of makes me feel guilty typing that out!  But, the take away, as always, is that I've learned more about the world and more about myself.  And my precious son is worth it.

Elinor's Birth Story

Finally I've made it to Elle's birth story. Be warned, it's long, but hopefully entertaining.


The whole tale actually starts on the evening of the 13th. The day at the waterpark, while fun, was exhausting, and later that evening when we got back to the campsite, I noticed just the faintest bit of spotting. I was a tiny bit concerned (I know it's normal for some women to spot throughout pregnancy, but not me, ever) but when it didn't escalate at all I chalked it up to too much activity. I told my mom about it, but not James because I didn't want him to worry. I had an uneventful night and on Wednesday we broke down camp. I wanted to walk the downtown Dells, and we hadn't had the opportunity to do that, so everyone but James and I with Colin and Cecily headed home while we stayed for some extra time. It was beastly hot, but we ducked into the air-conditioned stores frequently and enjoyed our two mile or so stroll (except for the steep uphill part LOL). Then we stopped at Culver's on our way out and enjoyed a very fattening lunch. There was some threatening weather on the two hour drive home, but we made it back right before dinner time safely. That evening I just felt absolutely panicked about the fact that Cecily's handmade "New Big Sister" shirt wasn't done yet. Everyone was so exhausted and just wanted to go to bed, but I made my mom stay up with me until 11pm to work on the front side (I paint it on both sides, so it needs drying time). Then I finally went to bed and was surprised to fall asleep without much trouble. I woke up around 4am for the first potty break of the night, but I just couldn't go back to bed. I was feeling some pain but they weren't very regular. I finished the rest of Cecily's shirt between contractions, read a magazine, and then took a long shower. At 6 I decided it was time to wake James up because it was indeed the real deal (they weren't getting closer together, but they were getting stronger). We got everything ready for whenever the children woke up and then I woke up my mom. We left for the hospital around 7:30am on Thursday morning. After some confusion about the fact that I was from out-of-state and didn't have a local OB, they took me straight into a room (no triage stop, which was kind of strange). The nurse checked me and I was at 5cm with a paper thin cervix and she was concerned about how swiftly I was moving. They called the on-call doctor, a family practitioner who was so old he had actually been the doctor who delivered my brothers. Once he arrived 30 minutes later I was at 6cm. Because he didn't do VBACs they had to find an OB-GYN to take over my care, so I ended up getting my mom's personal doctor, which was a strange coincidence. When he checked me (about 9am) I was complete and they thought delivery was imminent. They insisted there was no time for the epidural, which I was not at all happy about. But I figured if it was going to go this fast I could handle it. They kept telling me to push, but I felt absolutely zero urge to do so. I remember wanting to cry because my body just did not want to push. I've always wanted to know what it felt like to get that fabled urge to push they always talk about with natural deliveries and it never happened. The baby was up too high and her descent was complicated by transverse positioning. They alternated between having me push and resting for about two and a half more hours. All I wanted was the epidural because I knew I could push her out with the epidural, since I'd done it four times before. Finally they relented and determined that I could indeed have an epi. After it was in the nurse said to me something along the lines of, why didn't we do this right away, and I'm thinking, no kidding?!! At this point the OB said that I had a one hour deadline to deliver or they were going to do a c-section because the baby just wasn't going to fit. I was absolutely flabbergasted by this, and James was downright mad. It just didn't make sense that they would arbitrarily decide that I couldn't vaginally deliver a 38 weeker despite four previous successes. I later learned that the hospital was anti-VBAC and that VBACs were few and far between there and that c-sections were very common. After a lot of praying and an hour of resting without pushing, the OB came back to check me and the baby was right there. They had me give one tiny "test push" and she crowned right there at 12:55. Neither the OB nor the nurse were ready (in fact the OB's back was turned when she came out) and she delivered right onto the foot of the bed. I had warned them that this is how my deliveries go - tons of pushing and slow progress and then they just fly out all of the sudden. You'd think they'd have taken my words a little more seriously than most since I'd been through the childbirth process so many times. I felt so vindicated and strong after giving birth - I knew that my body could do it. This was the first delivery where I had absolutely no tears of any kind as well, which was a huge bonus in the healing department. She was covered in vernix when she was born, which was a new experience for me because all of my other babies have been late 39 weekers or older. She was also 7lbs 7.5oz, which is huge for me, especially at only 38 weeks (Cecily, born one day before her due date, by comparision, weighed 7lbs 5oz). I guess my body just knew that it was time for her to be born and that if she waited much longer she might be too big for me. James, Hero, Allegra, my mom and my dad (it was his first birth experience) were in the room when Elle was born. It was a wonderful moment, as all births are, but so unexpected that it felt surreal.