[Wow, time is flying. It's already the next Wednesday, and Karis is 6 weeks old. She smiles. She is really cute. See?
Continuing on.... Part 1 is
here.]
Since this could be for real, we started to time and write down contractions. I got up, washed my face, got dressed, and started to gather things to pack for the hospital. I think I ate something, and remember drinking a Gatorade.
6:37 41 seconds
6:40 1 min 13 sec
6:45 39 sec
6:48 33 sec
6:51 54 sec
6:54 40 sec
6:59 46 sec
7:01 40 sec
7:03 52 sec
7:06 1 min 2 sec
As you can see, things were getting more intense. That's when we stopped timing, and kicked into high gear.
I called the doctor, I called my mom. I talked to the doctor, who said he'd let the hospital know to expect me; Sam talked to my mom, since I was busy throwing up my Gatorade off the back deck. They would come to the house right away, to stay with Lizzie, who was still sleeping.
[Here it is
Friday morning. Coffee is consumed. Everyone else is sleeping. Sam has been laid off again. That's another story.]
We scurried around getting everything together - at least I had made a list of things to bring to the hospital, and put together a pile in the corner of the room for when it was "time". Contractions were rough. They were all in my back. It was not the way I wanted to have contractions. I remember having to hurry to try to pack something between contractions, because I once one started, I couldn't concentrate on anything else, and probably the most frequently said phrase was, "ohhhhhh, Jesus help me." I spent a lot of time on all fours. I barked instructions to Sam, who was trying to make sure everything was in order for us to leave: "Don't forget the toothbrushes. ... Where's the phone charger? ... There are cold water bottles in the fridge." If you asked me how it was going, I would have told you that everyone was moving way too slowly and we needed to be at the hospital at that very moment.
A little before 8 AM my parents arrived, and shortly afterward Lizzie woke up. Fortunately we had been prepping her for when her grandparents would stay with her, so that we could go to the hospital and bring home baby Karis. She hung out with my mom while we finished packing, and she watched me wide eyed when I got on the floor and moaned my way through contractions. I was trying not to worry her, but it's kind of hard to not look like you're uncomfortable in a contraction. (A couple weeks later, she copied me, getting on all fours and moaning. Then she looked up at me proudly, "mama! push baby out!" I just stared at her. What the heck?!) We finally gave Lizzie hugs and kisses, and made it out the door. I had 2 contractions before we even got out of the driveway. Being strapped into the front seat was not going to be fun.
On the way out I had enough focus to send a text to Steph, "going to hospital" ... She replied asking if I was able to talk; my answer, "no talk. you can text the word out." I was not my usual text-chatty self. Within minutes she was also in her car and ready to meet us at the hospital.
We live only about 20 minutes from the hospital, but it being 8 AM on a weekday, we were concerned about traffic. After being stopped at one red light, we prayed earnestly for green lights all the rest of the way. Praise God, the prayer was answered! We rolled all the way there, not having to stop until we got to the hospital parking lot! Sam ran in to get a wheel chair (he is so smart - I never would have thought of that, and would have tried to crawl my way in the double doors). Check-in went smoothly, even though I spent half of it with my head on the counter.
Then they wheeled me back to a room to check my progress. It was no later than 8:30 AM. Guess what? I was already to 5 cm! I laughed in relief. Half way there, and we just got to the hospital! I was unbelievably grateful, and so glad I didn't have to be set up with an IV for antibiotics for Group B Strep like last time. They asked me about my preferences in pain management, and I told them I wanted to try for all natural, but like last time I was not opposed to having something to help.
I don't remember when Steph showed up, but we were hardly there before she came in and started making herself useful. In fact, I think she was even there when they were trying to get the IV set up (for the just in case). Our only complaint in the whole hospital experience was the tech who tried to place my IV. She basically did a terrible job, and even when I was holding my hand absolutely still, and I don't have hard veins to get, she was moving the needle all around and accusing me of moving. Are you kidding? I'm a woman in labor having intense contractions; even if I do move--which I didn't--that's no excuse for doing a crappy job and having to try a second time. Sam was ready to throw her out and request someone else if she didn't get it right. After that, everything went smoothly and every other nurse and tech was awesome.
My midwife showed up, encouraged me, and went back to her office (only a couple minutes away). I had had an appointment for an ultrasound scheduled for that afternoon, and I remember telling her, "You can let the girls in the office know I won't make it in later." She laughed. While I wasn't in contractions, I actually was in a pretty good mood. I laughed. Sam talked to the nurses, asking loads of questions. Steph gave me sips of water--her chilled Dasani, even--and pushed my hair out of my face. She sent text updates to our small group, and had called our pastor to let him know what was going down. I remember her asking me if I wanted her to post a facebook update, but then we got interrupted and it didn't happen.
I spent nearly the whole time backwards on the bed, leaning against the raised head of the bed. When I had back labor with Lizzie, nothing seemed to help except lying on my side and having Sam press with all his might on the small of my back. This time pressure didn't seem to make it better, but I kept wanting Sam to keep his hand on my back where the contractions were. The warmth of his hand made them better. I would occasionally tell him to move his hand to one spot or another, but I never wanted him to apply pressure on my back.
Around 10 AM, the nurse decided to check me, and as I was moving onto my back I was mentally running through my options. If I had not progressed very far, if I were only at a 6 or a 7, I definitely wanted some kind of pain relief. As well as it was going, I was not really enjoying the process. But it felt kind of different when the nurse checked, and I was elated (well, as elated as I could be) when she said, "You're doing great. You're to 9 centimeters!" I definitely got a second wind at that point--we're almost there! They called the midwife, who arrived within minutes and checked me again. She said there was a little bit left to go, but that I could push at will, since I was starting to feel pressure.
So there I was, laying on my left side, thinking, not 'I'm going to have a baby in a few minutes,' or 'I get to meet Karis soon,' but 'I don't want to tear again,' and 'In a few minutes, I
won't be pregnant anymore!' I felt the burn and was a little afraid to push, but pushed a little at a time, really just doing what I felt was natural. I only pushed during contractions, resting between them. About 15 minutes of slow and steady pushing later, at 10:20 AM, Karis Michelle was born. Sam said that as soon as her head came out, they checked her neck for the cord, and suctioned her mouth and nose. Then she gave out a good and loud wail and out she came. There was no tearing, just "a surface scratch" that needed no stitches. Sam got to cut the cord after a few minutes, and she latched on to nurse perfectly.
She weighed in at 7 lbs, 2 oz, and 19" long. I think. We have it written down somewhere, thankfully. Her eyes were a dark, dark color, and it took hours of staring at her to realize that they were a dark blue. At this point, now that she is 6 weeks old, her eyes are a dark gray, sometimes looking like a dark hazel. It's still a mystery what color her eyes will end up.
Within just a few minutes, we were all oohing and ahhing and cuddling the newest baby. We were moved to a recovery room on the 2nd floor, and Steph helped us settle in, unpacking some of the bags and setting bags and shoes in the mini closet and arranging things on the side table.
Karis' first visitors were our pastor, Brother John, and James who was meeting with him when Steph called him to let him know the news. Then Brent came and stayed for a couple of hours. My parents came with Lizzie in the afternoon, and got to meet her. Scott came a few hours later, and so did Becky, who is expecting a girl in November. Becky brought us Five Guys burgers and fries. Becky is awesome.
Karis is a wonderful baby so far. She eats well, sleeps well, burps well, poops well. And she is full of rolls and chubbiness. The Lord knows that if you have a 2 year old, you need to have an easy baby. We are so grateful that, while challenging at times, every day has been so full of grace.
[Linking up with Home Sanctuary's
Company Girl Coffee. Finally.] :-)
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