Part one: My daughter’s birth story
It feels like only yesterday that I was writing Michael’s birth story for the blog…but I guess that November of 2012 isn’t exactly considered ancient history. I remember getting really emotional when I was typing it from my hospital bed. I’m talking major sobbing and tears and leftover raging pregnancy hormones.
Throughout this second pregnancy, I often wondered if I’d get as emotional after giving birth for the second time. This might sound horrible, but I just couldn’t comprehend how I’d possibly love another child as much as I love Michael.
Much to my surprise, I think that I got even more emotional the second time around. And of course, I learned that there was plenty of room left in my heart for my baby girl. It was love at first sight.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let’s flash back all the way to Tuesday, April 8, 2014…
MT and I had an appointment at 8 am that day to see my doctor. After over a week of contractions, lower back pain, and being 4 centimeters dilated, we were really (and I mean really) hoping that the doctor would tell us to head straight to the hospital after our visit. We even took along my hospital bag just in case.
Unfortunately, we found out that I was still only 4 centimeters dilated that morning. My doctor scheduled a membrane sweep later in the week and said that if it didn’t trigger anything, I’d be induced on Monday, April 14th.
It wasn’t the outcome that I wanted, but it was exciting to know that I’d definitely be holding our little girl in a few days.
After the appointment, MT drove Michael and me home at around 8:30 am and headed into work.
About an hour and a half later, my lower back started to kill. I was getting really concerned about how I’d be able to care for Michael while I was in such pain. I did my best to push on through it all, but it just kept getting worse and worse. I’m usually pretty stubborn when it comes to asking for help, so MT knew it was serious business when I sent a text to him at work to ask if he could come home when he got the opportunity.
I thought it would be best if I got Michael contained in his crib and settled for a nap, and as soon as I shut his door, it hit me.
I was in labor.
Then I did what any other woman in labor would do- I placed the typical “This is it” phone call to both my husband and my doctor, and I took off my nail polish because I refused to give birth wearing a color that I didn’t really like.
Like I said, totally normal.
Once I tidied up the house and picked up after Michael (clearly, I was still nesting), I curled up into a ball on the couch and waited for MT.
When he got home, we headed off to my parent’s house to drop off Michael. It was really difficult to say good-bye to him, but when MT handed him over to my dad, I was mid-contraction which actually offered kind of a nice distraction.
By the way, my contractions were less than two minutes apart by that point and growing stronger. However, I told MT that there was no way I could go through childbirth hungry and without fuel, so he ran into Dean & De Luca to get my lunch. I ate in the car in between contractions.
When I say that I don’t skip meals, I clearly mean it.
(I just realized that I’m letting all my crazy out in this post.)
Just as I finished up my lunch, we arrived at the hospital, and I was overcome with a major case of deja vu as I was wheeled to the maternity ward. Only this time, I knew what to expect going into it all, and I was actually really excited and just ready to finally meet my baby girl!
Stay tuned for part two…