Anticipation…
Being 40 weeks pregnant was absolutely new territory for me. Since
Jackson was induced at 38 weeks, waiting things out was totally out of my
element. Evie was due Monday, July 2. I was miserable that day. I was restless,
refusing to sit down. We made a family grocery store run, and I made several
meals to distract myself from being uncomfortably pregnant...physically,
emotionally, and mentally.I woke up Tuesday morning (July 3rd) with fierce cramps and lower back pain. I thought both were related to needing to use the bathroom (anyone who's been super pregnant knows what I mean). I sent Andrew off to work saying I felt icky, but was fine. I went downstairs for some water, and mom noticed my pacing. She asked if she needed to stay home, which I thought was ridiculous. She left for work too. Then, I tried to read on my kindle. I wasn't able to focus on the story, which was ironically about a women in labor. Between that and the fact that Jackson started stirring, I called my mom and asked her to come home after all. I felt too uncomfortable to take care of him. Fortunately, she was home in 15 minutes. She took care of Jackson and started asking questions. Having had back labor herself (with me), she suggested that I was in labor. I'm thinking, "no way!" She started timing my pain. At first, contractions weren’t all that regular, but quickly started happening every 3-5 minutes. Mom fed Jackson breakfast while I showered. I didn’t want her to contact anybody to say “it was time," because I wasn’t sure it was. I feared that everyone would drop what they were doing only to find I was in false labor.
Moms are always right. I was finally convinced to call the doctor after my shower. After 20 minutes of holding and talking to the nurse, she debated sending me early for my 40 week appointment scheduled for later that day. I told her it would take me about 40 minutes to get there. After at least two contractions on the phone with her, she asked how close the hospital was. Ha! Since we’d pass the hospital to get to the doctor’s office, she went ahead and sent us to the hospital. And it’s a good thing she did! Andrew made it home in time for us to head out together (don’t ask how fast he was driving), and we dropped Jackson off at Joe and Kathryn’s. By the time we got to the hospital at 10am, contractions were coming every 3 minutes. After the receptionist refused to let me walk on my own to the triage room (she said something about not having a baby on the floor?), the midwife came in to check things out. She admitted me to the hospital at 6cm dilated with contractions coming every 2-3 minutes and definitely getting worse. The midwife predicted that this baby would be born by 3pm – pretty quick for not being convinced I was even labor just a few short hours ago. We got to the labor and delivery room shortly after that. Since I was not on Pitocin (Hallelujah!) or hooked up to any medication, etc., I was able to move around a lot. I walked and squatted, labored on the “birthing ball,” and sat upright in the bed when I got tired. Contractions got worse very quickly, and my strategy for getting through them was counting. Listen people, that’s OCD, but it’s true. My first contractions only made it to 7 or 10, but Andrew kept track of how bad they were getting as we worked our way up to 75 and higher. And at times, I had to have someone else count for me. Sometimes they skipped numbers. I noticed that too, guys. Around 1pm, my midwife came in to check my progress. With contractions right on top of each other (and back labor pains in between), she thought we were very close. BUT, I was not dilating past 8 and 1/2 cm. The midwife explained to me that the only thing standing between the current labor and the delivery itself was my water breaking. She offered to break my water around 1pm. Uh…yes, please! Unfortunately, that actually didn’t help my progress much. Since the midwife had delivered Jackson (and the same “stuck at 8 and 1/2 cm” thing happened then too), she reduced my cervix herself, and I was ready to push around 1:15pm. There was hustle and bustle while nurses and techs prepared the midwife and setup the baby bed.
First push – Rachel says, “Katy, I can see the head!” Already? I thought. My strength is renewed.
Second push – Rachel says, “Katy, you’re so close!” What?
Third push – Rachel says, “Katy, look at her – she looks just like Jackson”
Fourth push – Rachel says, “It’s a…girl!”
Well, that was fast! J It’s only 1:25pm.
Reflection…
I prayed and had prayer warriors do the same regarding several
things about Evelyn’s birth. Not having the option for an epidural and wanting
to avoid Pitocin at all costs this time around, I am so grateful that God answered my prayer
for labor to begin naturally – even if I didn’t recognize it at first. AND, I am
happy to report that my favorite midwife birthed both Jackson and Evelyn! This
midwife remembered delivering Jackson, and she understood my desire to avoid
medication, and she knew how to protect me from unnecessary wounds. God
answered that prayer better than I asked for! My recovery has been remarkably
quick. Outside of being sleep deprived and adjusting to nursing again, I feel
fantastic. I am so blessed. And now, this beautiful new life is with us. She is nursing well, and she brings joy to us all. Jackson is coming around to having her at home. He finally admits that he has a sister, and he’ll occasionally rub her back or get close enough to her to say something.
Andrew and I struggled to pick a name for a girl. Andrew likes very few girl names. Since we weren’t completely sure whether we were welcoming a boy or a girl, we had two names prepared. Naming another boy took us about 10 minutes. Naming a girl, however, took us about 3 months. In fact, we agreed on the middle name Faith before we came up with the first name. We wanted to acknowledge that at this time in our lives, we are operating on faith. We are trusting God to make a way for us in many areas of our life as a family – and we are at peace about that. We trusted God’s sovereignty in the timing of Evie’s conception and the details of her birth. She is our faith baby! My dad actually suggested Evelyn as a first name. I’ve always loved the name variations of Eve. When we looked up the meaning of Evelyn, which means “life,” we knew it was perfect. Our prayer for Evie is that her life is a living testament of God’s faithfulness to us when we trust in Him.