My friend, Jen, had a beautiful
baby girl a couple of weeks after Archer was born. After exchanging birth stories, she told me
that she “collects birth stories”. I
like how she worded that. It’s amazing
that even though everyone around me seems to be having babies, no two stories
of their arrivals are the same. I love
hearing birth stories. Complicated and smooth, medicated and natural, planned
and unplanned c-sections. I love them all. If you love them too, here’s one for
your collection:
My due date was July 29th. Being pregnant until that date seemed less
than ideal. My sister, Carrie was flying
to California to help me on July 19th, Jonny was supposed to fly to
Dallas for business the 22nd-26th, and our house was
being tented for termites the very beginning of August. I just wanted him out!
I had an appointment on July 17th,
in which I discovered I was dilated to a 2 (not that it really means
anything). I told my Dr. about all the
upcoming events and she offered to do a membrane sweep. I told her I was scared because all these
women online wrote about how badly it hurts and how they were screaming and
crying. My doctor’s reply was, “Oh
please, Tracie. Only the crazies write
things online.” That’s why I love my doctor.
She’s real like that. After the
sweep she said, “I’m on call tomorrow… so I did a pretty good one! If your body
isn’t ready though, nothing will happen and I’ll see you next week.”
Well I felt crampy all day, but
nothing to write home about. I fell
asleep watching a show on the iPad with Jonny at around 10:30. A little before 3:00 AM I woke up feeling hot
(no A/C) and still crampy. I couldn’t
really sleep so I just laid in bed until I realized, “Wait a second! This
stomach ache is coming and going… hmm… maybe they are contractions!” I timed
them and they were about 8-9 minutes apart.
I woke up Jonny around 3:30, but still wasn’t really convinced I was in
true labor. It didn’t hurt enough and
still just felt like the cramps I had all day.
Even if it was labor, I figured it would still be hours and hours until
anything exciting happened.
At about 4:00 AM, I got in the
bathtub to try to relax and get sleepy again, but by the time I got out 20-30
minutes later, my contractions were about 5 minutes apart and a little more intense. There was a lady from our church who was
supposed to be on call in the middle of the night to come stay with Scarlett
because she was “a really light sleeper and would always hear her phone.” I don’t know if she had a rough day or took a
sleeping pill or something, because she most definitely slept through more than
an hour of Jonny calling her cell and house phone. At about 5:30 AM we were getting desperate
(and we still didn’t know anyone here in Southern California) so Jonny called a
co-worker of his and asked if he could come sleep on our couch until we could
get a hold of this lady, or at least until Scarlett woke up and could go play
with his wife and daughter. He was a
lifesaver and was here in 10 minutes.
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Going home! |
We got to the hospital around 6:00
AM and went to the ER because that’s what we thought you were supposed to do if
it was really early or really late. They
didn’t see me come in, and the front desk was really tall so it took them a
little while to realize a.) Why we were there. b.) That this was not my first
baby. And c.) That my contractions that I thought were 3 minutes apart were
really a little less than 1 minute apart.
After being scolded for not coming earlier, they quickly transferred me to
L&D where I was sent to triage.
When I was checked into triage, I was a 10. I couldn’t believe it. I knew the 2nd baby would come
faster, but not that fast!! At this point it was around 6:30 and my doctor,
whom I love, wouldn’t be at the hospital for another hour or so. The contractions were super intense and strong at this point and I was moaning really loudly with each one. As soon as they stopped though, I would laugh because I was embarrassed from the moaning. One nurse said, "Wow! She's still laughing!" Also, I told the nurse “Wait! I think I want
an epidural!” To which she replied, “We’ll see what we can do.” I told her, “I
know what that means!! It means it’s too late!!” Luckily for me, the baby was
still really high, and they have the fastest anesthesiologist around. They
quickly started an IV, had me sign away my life, and laid me on my side to wait
for him. In no time at all he was there and got that needle in my back in
between contractions. Ahhhhh…
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A little photo shoot I did with Archer at home |
Some of you are thinking, “Why would you get an epidural at that point, dummy?!” Well, with Scarlett I pushed for an hour and was stitched up for an hour (and almost needed a blood transfusion). I knew if that were to happen again, I wanted to be numb for it.
My nurse was sort of annoying. She gave me this pep talk about how the baby
didn’t like the contractions and how the Dr. might need to use a vacuum or
“other matters” (read: C-section) to get him out quickly. At about 7:45, Dr. VanBlaricom waltzed in and
checked me. I said, “That was a good sweep!” The nurse filled her in on the
apparent urgency and she replied, “He’s doing just fine! He likes me. He must remember me from when I touched his
head yesterday.” Oh, I love her.
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From there, she put on her gown, had me push two
big pushes and one little push, and out came our beautiful baby boy on
July 18th, at 8:00 AM on the dot.
8 lbs, 2 oz. Up until that exact second I had the clichéd feeling that
it would be impossible to love another baby as much as I love Scarlett, and a
worry that I wouldn’t be able to bond with him.
As soon she laid him on my chest, that intense motherly love flowed
through me and all my fears were gone. I
thought, “Of course I love you! Our souls remember each other. You are mine.”
Archer’s birth was perfect. I want every birth to be as perfect as his.
It was fast. Jonny was a seasoned champ
and was really encouraging, helpful, and calm this round. Archer was so healthy. I didn’t tear (I highly recommend that.
Recovery is amazing). What more could
you ask for?! It took us a couple of days to lock in a name, which apparently
drives everyone crazy. Archer/Archie was on our short list and just seemed to
fit his sweet little face and perfect dark, faux-hawk head of hair. His middle name was picked before his first
name. We wanted it to be a tribute to
his Grandma, my mom, who passed away six months before his birth. Debra and
Jean didn’t work for obvious reasons, so instead we used her maiden name, Shaw.
And that’s it. It was great. His birth made me want 10 more babies (until
he was 2 weeks old, my sister was gone, and I was really tired). Archer is such
a wonderful addition to our family. Time is flying this time. He’s 7 weeks old
tomorrow and already weighs 12 lbs 14 oz.
*PS- I haven't used blogger for a year and a half and don't remember how to use it. Forgive my formatting.