In Labor? Let's Go Eat!

Though I think most women when they are at the end of their first pregnancy would be anxious to get it over with, from the stories I have heard, I don't think my mom was. When she went into labor with me, instead of worrying about making it to the hospital, she went out to eat! No wonder I love Chinese food, because that's where she went. It's very hard for me to imagine this, the last thing I was worried about when I was in labor with my first child, was food. I just wanted to get checked into the hospital!! But knowing my mom, she is a much stronger woman then I am.
I have been reminded much throughout my life, that she was in labor with me for around 36 hours. A number I feared, since I have been told a woman takes after her mother when it comes to how long labor may last- and yes, my first was around 32 hours or so. I had an epidural, I am not sure if my mom did or not, but I know she had back labor. I was a pain in her back from the beginning!
As for breastfed or bottle fed, a very hot topic for moms now, I was bottle fed. My mom tried to breastfeed me, but it was too rough on her and she was in a lot of pain, so it didn't last long. And again, like mother, like daughter, I was unable to breastfeed for similar reasons.
For the short story of how I got my name, check out this post.

This is the 1st in a series of 12 posts to record my youth for my children at

Zachary's Birth Story

Again I found myself with a hugely bloated belly and a week past my due date. I don't know what it is about my babies, but they were both big and both took their sweet time gracing us with their presence!
I had prayed hard that my baby boy would be different then my daughter and come early even. I particularly hoped he would be born a week early so that he would share his birthday with my sister Nicole, as well as my great Uncle Mike, and my great Grandma. It was a particularly sad time because my uncle had passed away the day before his birthday, so I was anxious for the joy my little guy could bring. But that week passed and Zachary continued to kick from within me.
Then the next weekend came and went, with my close friend who shared my due date now having a beautiful baby girl in her arms instead of her belly. I felt jealous as I impatiently waited for my turn. I continued to hear surprise from others that I hadn't 'popped' yet as I was even larger then I had been with my daughter- gee, thanks for pointing that out. Simple tasks like taking care of my older child truly became chores as my energy was diverted to just being able to move around with my expanded middle.
I went in for a check up just after my due date, and finally to schedule my induction. Unfortunately there were a lot of pregnant moms closing in on their due dates and in the tiny Guam Naval hospital there were only 3 labor and delivery rooms available. One always had to be kept open for that mom who would spontaneously go into labor, apparently some babies do come out in their own time! So I was left with the earliest date available, a week and a half after my due date- which by the way we were positive of because I knew when we had conceived our surprise baby since we had only had the chance to be intimate once in all the stress surrounding out move to Guam. I have since gotten over this, but at the time I was devastated that of all the dates, I was now scheduled to have my baby on one of my 3 sisters birthdays, the one I least got along with. In the past year I like to think things have improved between us, but at the time of Zachary's birth we still fought like cats and dogs! I did NOT want my child to share her birthday!
Jon and I tried everything we could think of in the week and half leading up to my scheduled induction to get labor to happen naturally. I took Evening Primrose oil, we spent lots of awkward moments in bed attempting my husband's favorite method to induce labor, and I walked, A LOT. Even the doctor's had begun 'stripping my membranes', a very pain process, a month before my due date. But Zachary was not about to budge.
With my daughter, I had had the typical fears of a first time mom going into childbirth. I didn't know what to expect then, but I did now, at least when it came to labor itself, unaided. Now my fear was of the hard and intense labor pitocin would bring on, that could potentially lead to a c-section if my body didn't respond properly by dilating and effacing. I had been only barely 2 cm for the past month with no effacement- with my daughter it was the same 2 cm that haunted me for a month though then I was more hopeful because I was also effaced almost completely the last month as well.

The night before I would meet my son I did not get a wink of sleep. Our wonderful new friends from church were kind enough to have Natalie come over that night instead of worrying about dealing with her as we prepared to be at the hospital around 6 am. With maybe 3-4 hours sleep, I woke up and watched the clock count down to 5 am, when I had been told to call and check that there was room for me to come in. Each day they scheduled 2 woman to be induced, but if others had come in, rooms would get filled and there may have been room for only one or neither of us, but I was determined to be the first to call in that case. And thankfully I was told to go ahead and come in.
We waited down the hall, me on the edge of the seat, barely able to sit still, as they prepared my room. I was so anxious and nervous I hadn't eaten anything before we left, something I quickly regretted! Once I was hooked up to the monitors, and the IV in, it was a waiting game until the doctor arrived around 7:30. The nurse had already advised me that I was only allowed 'easy' foods, like jello or popsicles- as long as they weren't a shade of red. Of course there was nothing close to that available in either the hospital or the mini mart beside it.
After the doctor arrived and came in to tell me what was going to happen, the pitocin was started at around 8. It didn't hit as hard as I expected, it sort of came on gradually. My husband patiently waited at my bedside, looking tired from the lack of sleep he too had suffered. I remember asking him over and over in between my building contractions "Are you okay?". What a turn around from how irritated I remember feeling with him during my daughter's birth! At some point he finally asked why I was so worried about him when I was the one in pain. But I continued to be overly concerned with his state for some reason and every time I heard him sigh or yawn, again I inquired of him how he was feeling.
The doctor came in to break my water around 11 am. I was around 5 cm, and had been checked regularly by the nurse, though with very slow progress. It felt so strange to have my water broken by hand. With my daughter it hadn't happened until after I was enjoying my epidural, so I could only barely recognize the gush of fluids. This time the doctor, sitting on the edge of my bed, talking casually to me as if having this conversation over coffee, had to keep pushing around to get all the fluids out, and they just kept coming. He even noted it was a lot more then usual, as I felt a little hope that my huge belly had just meant lots of fluids verses the possibility of a big baby. The demeanor of my doctor was so casual, which honestly made it all the more awkward for me. He wasn't just my doctor, he was a regular attender of my church. I wouldn't just see him for appointments and have a purely clinical view of him, I knew him personally- though we never saw each other socially really- and he knew me a little too much if you know what I mean! I value my modesty, and this was definitely not making me feel very modest.
He advised me to hold off on my epidural for as long as I could stand to. He said it would be its strongest at the beginning and fade by the time actual pushing began if I got it too early. But being the wimp I am, 45 minutes later I was begging for it! Out of nowhere the contractions had gotten very intense, and I didn't want to wait anymore, I didn't understand how the epidural would 'fade' when with my first child it had been in for hours and hours before I had my baby.
I was much more informed though this time, that much was true. With my daughter no one had sat down to tell me how things would happen. Now though both my doctor had explained to me all about the different possibilities that could happen, and then the anesthesiologist had come in to tell me exactly what he would be doing. I wasn't really thrilled with this, I just wanted to move on. When the anesthesiologist had finished explaining he asked if I had any questions, I was very quick with me 'no', though Jon had piped up to some unimportant curiosity of his own to ask. I just remember looking at him and saying "I will tell you if you have any questions- and NO you don't!!" After all, it was happening to me, and I wanted that epidural that moment. That was the only time I was even a little unkind to Jon during Zachary's birth, and I quickly went back to being concerned about his well-being over mine as I laid in the hospital bed. It was even easier after the epidural.
This time the epidural was not nearly as strong. I could still feel the contractions though very mildly. The next few hours passed quickly, though I was starving the entire time. I honestly was having trouble thinking of anything else. Unfortunately when the doctor had arrived that morning I had been told I could only have ice chips, but as I was so desperately hungry and wasn't sure how much longer this labor would last, around 3 pm, Jon was ready to head down to the nearest grocery store to grab me some jello. I was hesitant about him leaving, worried the minute he was gone things would start happening fast, so I asked the nurse to check my cervix before he went. She was in on it, and knew where he was going and was playing dumb about it so I could have a little food in my belly. But as she checked my cervix, we discovered I was 9 cm. It was time to call the doctor in. It didn't take long for me to hit the 10 cm mark, and once I did I felt the oddest sensation. With my daughter, as numb as I was I had never experienced the feeling of needing to push. I pushed when I was told that time, but now I had the strongest urge to push very hard. The nurse asked me to wait- she must've never given birth, there was no holding it in! The best I could do was not put all my effort into the push that was coming like I was stuck on auto pilot. My body wouldn't give me an alternative. Luckily the doctor didn't take long and I was allowed to unleash the full force I had been longing to put behind the uncontrollable urge to push.
It was almost 4 in the afternoon, and I was excited and filled with anticipation. Despite the mild pain I was feeling, I was actually enjoying childbirth! I also, even in the heat of the moment, continued plaguing Jon with my questions about how he was doing, how funny I must've sounded to the doctor and nurses! I think I was beginning to irritate him honestly.
The baby's head was almost out, but according the monitors with each push his heart rate was dipping just a little. And my blood pressure was on the lower end. So with both of us in mind, not wanting anything to get worse, the doctor pulled out the forceps. He assured me we weren't in danger, he just didn't want it to get to that point. So with the help of forceps and one big push from me, my son was born at exactly 4 pm, weighing 9 lbs, 10 ozs and 21 1/2 inches long.
So much was happening all at once. I remember asking if he was okay because unlike his sister, Zachary had not come out screaming. The doctor assured me he was fine, he even scored an 8 & 9 on his APGAR (same as his sister) though I never remember him crying very much. As soon as he was out, Jon pulled out the 2 bags of cookies I had packed and I quickly devoured them. I felt awful. My son was just born but all I really was worried about was food!!
After my hunger was satisfied, I couldn't take my eyes off my boy. He looked exactly like Natalie, and I felt much more of the love I had expected then verses when Natalie was born- another fact that plagues me with guilt. And while Natalie had barely even opened her eyes in the first day of her life, Zachary was wide-eyed and taking it all in. Even now, he is my little curious George, my observer and doer.

*Note- for those who read Natalie's birth story and are wondering- yes this time they waited to stop the epidural until after they stitched up my minor tearing- not even a first degree tear. And I could only feel the tugging of the needle, not the needle itself, thank goodness!!*

Natalie's Birth Story

It was almost a week past my due date. I was carrying a bowling ball around my waist that seemed like it would never stop expanding. My skin was stretched further then I ever imagined possible, then tested time and time again as my growing daughter did somersaults inside me to try and break through my belly- or so it felt AND looked by my distorted midsection.
The anticipation was building as butterflies joined the baby in my tummy. I was going to meet my daughter, who had shared my body with me for the last 9 months sometime in the next few days. I was scheduled to be induced in two days, finally, officially in the home stretch. As I slept uneasily that night, anxious for the next day to pass quickly, yet also apprehensive of the new adventure I was about to enter in life, I awoke at around 3 am having minor contractions I assumed were braxton hicks, though they still felt different somehow. I had been stressing over the thought of going into labor and not being able to recognize it until it was too close- wouldn't that have been nice! I tried my best to go back to sleep though, after timing these new contractions and not finding a regular pattern. One would come within 8 minutes of another, then the next would be 20 minutes later. But they continued to plague me throughout the next day.



Around 4 pm, I started finding a more regular pattern in them. Every 8 minutes my stomach would get rock hard, and painful- though nothing compared to what was coming. Despite knowing my own mother had been in labor for over 20 hours with all 4 of her children- me being the first and longest at 36 hours I believe- I was anxious to get to the hospital. To get to the Navy hospital where I was supposed to give birth you had to go through a tunnel in the downtown area of a major city. It was not unusual for this tunnel to be seriously backed up for hours beginning at around this time of evening, as everyone rushed home after work. I had images of giving birth in the car in the dark tunnel, surrounded by commuters, on a continuous loop running through my mind. I was terrified if things did happen quickly I would not make it all the way there, so I insisted that we immediately rush to the hospital for them to verify it as official labor and maybe admit me if they weren't too busy. Of course it was actual labor, finally, and as I feared, they were very busy, so at only 2cm- which I had been at for a month- I was sent home where I could be more comfortable. Though comfortable was the farthest thing from what I felt by then.
By bedtime the contractions had still not gotten any closer together, though the intensity in which they were coming seemed to be at its peak. I longed for the drugs I had earlier decided to attempt to go without, though my heart was never fully in it. I knew I would cave at the slightest suggestion of pain- and so I did! We headed back to the hospital, our 2nd trip. Jon kept trying to offer me his hand to squeeze as he drove and I sat doubled over- sort of, anyway, hard to be doubled over around a belly that big. I just snapped at him in between focusing on my breathing that if I wanted his hand I would've asked for it. I think that was the only time I actually got mad at him through the whole thing. Again though, we arrived at the hospital and Jon wheeled me up to the maternity ward. I hated more then anything sitting in the waiting room in excruciating pain with a room full of witnesses. I tried hard to hide what I was feeling, but it was difficult. We finally were put in a triage room to be checked on, only to find my cervix still having made no progress. Our 2nd trip was another bust. We were sent home with ambien to help me sleep, though in the process of getting it I found myself again waiting with an audience in the pharmacy, which for about 10 minutes went into a fire lock down. I was completely in panic mode as the ends of the pharmacy area sealed up, all the windows closed and we were stuck waiting for the situation to end. It only took 10 minutes, though that seemed like an eternity to me as my contractions inched towards 6 minutes in frequency, lasting for a good 30 seconds each time. Finally we were on our way back home with something to help me sleep.
Of course after taking the ambien and Tylenol with codeine (yes, doctor prescribed), I quickly realized that the doctor who had prescribed these must not have heard I was in labor. I felt only mildly sleepy and in no less pain then before. I think it would've taken a horse tranquilizer to get me to fall asleep with those contractions! We didn't even stay home a full hour before heading back for a 3rd trip, to the hospital I was beginning to resent. After another stint in the waiting room, my cervix was checked for the third time that night at around 11 pm. I had made it to 3 cm, and my contractions were coming fast and hard at 3 minutes apart. I thought for sure I will be admitted now! And again I was reminded how very busy they were and told to go home! I was livid, I was in the most pain I ever thought possible, contractions coming on top of each other and because I was only 3 cm I was going home?! How was I supposed to tell when I was dilating more from home? My contractions couldn't get very much closer together then they already were, how was I going to know when to come in?
For another few hours at home, my husband, feeling exhausted and helpless, ran around doing anything I barked at him as I attempted to find a comfortable spot on the couch- as if that were even possible! Around 2 am I had had enough and we went back in feeling very heavy hearted that again we would be turned away. At the hospital though, the same nurse who had checked me twice that night already, took pity on me. Since I was scheduled to be induced in another 6 hrs anyway, she finally admitted me. By 3 am I was in my hospital bed in labor and delivery with IVs in my hands, and some drugs running through them. I was told they would keep the edge off, and I hoped it to be true since I feared the thought of an epidural. I hate needles. From what I had been told an epidural requires a large needle very strategically placed into a precise point in your back as you hold still. I was in fear of not only the needle, but not being able to hold still for it and having something go wrong. Unfortunately the drugs that were to 'take the edge off' helped very little and I decided to get the epidural. I was more scared of the pain getting worse then anything else right then. And honestly as I prepared for it, I never saw the needle, and barely felt it all go in. It wasn't hard to sit still, rolled over my belly like that, in fact it was somewhat comfortable, and Jon stood in front of me to hold me steady just in case. Once in, I felt awesome! And I finally managed to get that few hours of sleep, nodding off to one of the movies we had packed- What Lies Beneath.



By the time I woke up it was nearing 8 am. Though I could see all the contractions on the monitor, I felt nothing. In fact I felt too much nothing! When the doctor had given me the epidural he had showed me how to push the button if I needed more, though I hadn't had to use it, he also said it should keep me numb from my waist down. But I was numb all the way up to my chest!! I could feel the weight of my arms as the, apparently too high, dose spread! I paged the nurse who came in and misunderstanding me, pushed the button to give me more before the doctor happened to be walking in to check on it. I told him how numb I was and he adjusted the level as I regained some feeling back in my chest. The nurse helped flip flop my legs and left behind him, without having checked anything 'down there'. I don't remember clearly when they popped my water sack, though I know they did, I think it was sometime after the epidural was in place, but that was around the last time they had checked my cervix as well.
An hour later I was feeling impatient. It had been hours since the last time someone had checked my cervix to see how things were moving. I didn't want to spend any longer laying there bored and waiting. I called the nurse in, it was almost 9 am. She checked on the monitors and all the routine stuff and was about to walk out when I asked if she would check my cervix. "I suppose we could do that," she answered so casually, like it wasn't a huge deal!! Sure enough she reached down to find I was a full 10 cm and the baby's head was right there, crowning and ready for me to push!! The nurse called the midwife in and while we waited she had me begin pushing. Jon was on one side holding my leg and the nurse was on the other. My first push, I actually kicked her pretty hard accidentally in my efforts to push as hard as possible- though subconsciously maybe it was my little revenge at her casual attitude about everything!



Not even a full hour later, among many more pushes my daughter's head was almost all the way through with a head full of hair. I remember being asked at that point if I wanted them to put up a mirror so I could watch and I nearly shouted "NO!!" at the same moment the midwife asked if I wanted to feel the baby's head. I didn't answer, I am sure the look on my face gave away that it would be the same response as before. But my husband, who was now weeping with joy, let out an "I do" in the happiest but saddest voice I ever thought I would hear from him. I, however, at the moment, wanted to finish getting the baby out, not sit around staring in mirrors or touching the baby's head! I wanted to stop pushing and be able to rest!! I even shot Jon a dirty look as he reached down to touch the baby, thinking, seriously, can we move on now??
Minutes later my little Natalie was born at 9:56 am. She was a whopping 9 lbs .3 ozs and 21 1/4 inches long. Though I loved her dearly I was exhausted and after holding her for mere seconds I passed her to her daddy. I had always been told its okay if you don't have one of those instant falling head over heels in love with your baby right away experiences, but I had expected it. I was a sensitive, caring person, very emotional, and I was shocked I felt no real bond from that very first meeting as I had hoped. I loved her, but it seems she was destined to be a daddy's girl right from the beginning.



Before Natalie was even out, the epidural had been shut off and was fading too fast. I had a 2nd degree tear and I could feel them stitching me up. When I cried out in pain, no longer able to contain it, they offered me the option of local anaesthetic to help ease the pain- just great another needle being stuck in the very spot my body had endured the worst already! Unfortunately it had little effect and I suffered through the rest of the stitches as Jon feel deeper in love with his first little girl.

Don't forget to check out Zachary's Birth Story later this week as well as How We Came to Formula Feed Our Babies, and My 10 Tips for New Moms.

*Note to pregnant mommies planning on an epidural- DON'T let them shut if off until they are all done fixing you up! After my 2nd I was up front and adamant about that from the start and I didn't feel any of the stitches that time despite an overall weaker epidural!!*