My second son's birth story
I’m so excited to finally be writing about my second son’s birth.
I’m writing this for me, for my memories.
And maybe, eventually, one day he’ll think it’s cool and be glad to learn about his birth, too.
I did the same thing for my first born (you can read about it here).
Why not just put it in a personal journal? Why put it on the internet?
Because I love birth stories and believe they’re most powerful when shared.
The Day Of
I had an elective induction schedule for 2 days after my due date.
Could not wait, if I’m being honest.
I was so big and so exhausted; everything hurt (and I had an easy pregnancy, relatively speaking).
I was ready to get the show on the road.
The plan for that day was to drop my toddler off at school, and spend the rest of the morning and afternoon getting myself ready and organized for all that laid ahead.
Of course the day went by incredibly slow. It was the coldest, rainiest winter here in LA.
I cleaned, made sure the fridge and pantry were stocked with my essential postpartum ingredients, ran some last minute errands, picked my son up from school, and waited for my parents to arrive at my house from their hotel so they could be with my son while I did the damn thing!
The hours passed and eventually it was time to head to the hospital for my 6:00PM induction…in a horrendous rain storm, of course.
The Induction
I was 1 cm dilated at 38 weeks.
At 39 weeks, My OB/GYN performed a “sweep” to induce labor naturally.
And when I arrived at the hospital on the day of my induction, at 40 weeks + 2 days, I was still only 1 cm dilated.
My children don’t leave my womb willingly, what can I say?
Like I said earlier, I was ready to get the show on the road and happy to be induced.
At around 7PM, I had a foley balloon inserted to help me dilate. The plan was to start with the foley and then eventually (if needed) start me on pitocin to help bring on the contractions.
Once the foley balloon was inserted, the nurses recommended that I rest and relax, and try to get some sleep that night. Then, in the morning, hopefully the foley balloon will have fallen out on its on and I will be at least 3-4cm dilated, which is the goal.
They told me I could be laboring for 3-4 days, so I should manage my expectations.
I was also told that my son, currently at home, was not allowed to visit the hospital at any point, due to COVID-19 policies.
My heart sunk. I had never spent a night away from him, and the thought of 3-4 days apart just wrecked me.
All I could think was this cannot take 3-4 days.
That evening, my husband, Noam, and I ordered dinner from M Cafe on Melrose (a birthing “tradition” - we did the same thing when I gave birth to my eldest son).
Once we were done eating, I started to feel a bit of cramping, which is where the drugs come in.
And that deserves its own section.
On Drugs
If you know me personally or have been following along on my blog, you know I like to keep things as natural as possible in my life.
So you may be surprised when I tell you that I was adamant about having pain relieving drugs administered during my labor.
Here’s why:
I believe a drug-free birth would have caused me a lot of stress and anxiety.
And that is the last thing I want to feel as I bring my son into this world.
I believe that a relaxed and open laboring mother is one of the most important aspects of a healthy birth so I was going to do whatever I needed to do to stay in that state.
So when I started cramping about 2 hours after the induction process began, I was given morphine for pain relief and to help me rest and relax.
And when the time came for the epidural, I (gladly) accepted that as well.
At the end of the day, I’m a wellness girlie. And to me, wellness is about making choices that allow you to attain better physical and mental health outcomes.
I knew a “relaxed me” would mean a more relaxed birth, and that’s the kind of environment I want for my children - in utero, during labor, and beyond.
Making Progress
I fell asleep that evening (easily) around 9PM.
When I woke up around 6AM the next morning, I was 4cm dilated and moved from a hospital room to a gigantic laboring suite.
I was still feeling tired (I suppose Morphine will do that to you), and while I was making progress, it was slow.
Still no contractions at this point.
As a result of my fatigue, incredibly low blood pressure (for which I was administered an insane amount of fluid for), and lack of contractions, the doctors started me on Pitocin to help get things going.
I was dreading this. I had read and heard all sorts of things about how Pitocin led to more painful contractions. Thankfully, that wasn’t my experience (or maybe it was the drugs, I’m not entirely sure).
One nurse said it could be just a couple of hours longer until I start pushing or maybe some time that evening. Another nurse said it could be even longer.
One thing all the nurses and doctors were in agreement on: my son was the healthiest, most relaxed baby on the charts that day.
And that felt good to hear.
Especially because there was a lot of rumbling amongst the nurses about being “worried about me”.
She’s so tired.
Her blood pressure is so low.
She’s so small.
How is she going to push baby out?
Go Time
My water broke while I was sleep, just after 12PM.
I was excited but calm and still tired. As intense as labor is, it felt like a vacation from parenting my 3 year old. So, I leaned into the R&R big time.
At that point, I went back to sleep. It’s as if my body knew that when it came to sleep this was it for me for a while.
At 1:48PM I woke up, looked at my husband and told him to call the nurses because I had to push. I did a couple “practice” pushes and at 1:58PM I started pushing for real.
Once I started pushing, I didn’t speak or make a peep.
I may be small, I may be tired, and I might have low blood pressure, but I know how to perform. And I remember from the birth of my first son, I like to push with what some might call an “animal-like intensity.”
My son, Shia (pronounced “shy-ya”), entered this world 7 minutes later, at 2:05PM, weighing 9 pounds and 4 ounces.
Seconds after he was born, after months of gray skies and rainy days, the sun came out and poured into our room. I said to my husband that he brought the sunshine with him. He is now 6 months old and is still the sweetest thing.
Meeting him, holding him for the first time, was absolute heaven. An indescribable feeling that I will unsuccessfully be chasing for the rest of my life.
I didn’t sob or cry. All I could do was smile.
The gratitude I felt was overwhelming - for his health, for mine, and for the incredible staff of nurses and doctors who cared for me every step of the way.
Life with Two
I couldn’t wait to get home to start life as a family of four.
We stayed at the hospital that night. Then the universe must have recognized my desire to get home by bestowing a 104 degree fever upon my eldest son.
We got discharged early from the hospital, brought my eldest son home from school and began life as a family of four in the most chaotic of ways. At the time, I felt like I was going to lose my mind. In retrospect, I absolutely love that we got to spend the first week together, as four, holed up in a sweet, germ-infested bliss.
It’s now been 6 months since Shia was born. My happiness and gratitude has only grown bigger and deeper since the day we met. Caring for a newborn and a toddler is some of the hardest, most exhausting shit I’ve ever done - the night feeds, bouncing from one child to the other, very little time for work or self-care, etc.
But it’s also the happiest I’ve ever been and I wouldn’t trade even the hardest days for anything in the world.
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