I'm so glad Jadyn (a.k.a. Roo, GiGi [as Morenna calls her], Pumpkin) has joined our family. It was a bit of a long road ushering her into our family, but the joy of new life outweighs it all. Thankfully.
Otherwise there would be no more babies.
And our family would stay good and small. Really small.
I was fairly sure that labor the second time around would be a breeze, both mentally and emotionally, and perhaps physically, too. First time: ignorant and unsure. Second time: experienced and seasoned. Right?
Labor with Jadyn was a surprise. A mentally, emotionally, and physically-taxing surprise. I anticipated her arrival would be an early one. Perhaps Thanksgiving Day? It would be fun to have a child born on Easter and a child born on Thanksgiving. So we planned.
The Tuesday prior, I started having 5 minute regularly-spaced, but manageable, contractions. Based on
my experience laboring with Morenna, I took this to be early labor and waited for them to become more
irregular (in my case) but grow in intensity. Five hours later, they stopped.
Ok.
Wednesday they came again. As the sun hung low in the sky, they started. Six hours later, they stopped.
OK.Thanksgiving day we prepared to celebrate our first holiday at home. (More on this, later... with pictures of some super-awesome homemade cinnamon rolls!) My parents were in town and my best friend and her hubby came over to join us in our feast. I spent a large part of the morning on my feet dabbling in food prep, but they [my feet, that is] swelled up and commanded me to take a chair. The rest of the afternoon was spent in a turkey-coma, curled up and happily watching football. Again the contractions started, but I was able to ignore them fairly well. At 11pm, my head hit the pillow.
Little did I know this would be my last night of full rest.
Blah.
Not that I would have done anything different had I known. I slept. It was good. The end.
Friday was a pleasant day and my hubby was home from work. In the afternoon we took a good, long, walk around our neighborhood with Morenna and Uncle Feather (my parent's dog, a.k.a. Buddy). Once we returned home, my contractions started up yet again. At this point they required my complete attention. Still they came regularly... 7 minutes apart. Could this be it? I was growing a bit weary of the start and stop method my body was taking, so I did my best to ignore them.
But they weren't easily ignored. And they continued...on... and on... and on. I cautiously, but eagerly announced that I thought this was it! Eight hours went by. I was exhausted... with no noticeable progress. I slept as I could, but they were strong enough to wake me up throughout the night. And then they stopped. STOPPED. The sun rose. But my spirits sank. Was I missing something?
Saturday I tried to be positive. Breakfast out with my hubby... and then a good, long, devotional certainly helped. I rested. I lived. And then, just as the sun was setting, they came again. Strong. Intense. Regular. I breathed through them and waited for some progress. Two hours... four hours... six hours... eight. All through the night I contracted. Breathed. But no progress came. And they stopped.
I guess it would be no surprise that Sunday's sunrise found me frustrated, exhausted, and utterly confused. What was going on!? I was supposed to know how this whole labor thing works... and yet I was more lost than ever. Moreover, my uterus seemed to be stuck in an everlasting contraction of sorts. I just couldn't get it to relax. I felt as though I had done enough crunches to satisfy even Marine standards.
To ease my weary and troubled mind, I spent the morning browsing the internet trying to find some consolation as to what was going on. Then I stumbled upon a support group for mothers dealing with
prodromal labor. It was a jackpot of encouragement to me as I identified with all the symptoms to a "T". I wasn't going crazy. Phew.
At my husband's insistence, though, I decided to phone my midwife to tell her what had been going on and to ask for a sleeping pill so I could get some rest. After just a few seconds of dialog she replied, "well sweetie, it sounds like you're wrestling through some nasty prodromal labor."
Gee. Maybe I should have called her to begin with and saved myself the time of research. :-)
She suggested I come in for a brief non-stress test for the baby and she'd check to see if the contractions had been productive or non-productive. She reasoned, "Given what happened with your first birth, I just wouldn't want to prescribe you a sleeping pill if you're farther along than we realize."
Matt and I headed to the birth center and after two hours of monitoring (Jadyn wasn't quite as active at first as they would've liked) my midwife announced I was 3 cm and 60% effaced. I was somewhat relieved all my efforts hadn't been in vain. She offered a sleeping pill or a Tylenol PM for sleep, though she explained my contractions were registering strong enough that I would likely still awake with them. I took the Tylenol and we headed home with instructions to take a hot, relaxing bath to see if my uterus would relax.
It felt so good to have a "diagnosis" of sorts as to what was going on. But my mind still worried as to how I would know when real labor kicked it. From my research, many mothers who had prodromal labor would end up in transition out of nowhere. Given our close call reaching the birthing center with Morenna, I was more and more nervous that this baby would come at home, or in the car. And what if the contractions lasted for days, or even weeks longer? It's not unheard of. Prodromal labor is a nasty, mean, thing.
But my husband lit candles. And turned on peaceful music. The water felt wonderful and I fell asleep. Peacefully asleep. Right there in my bathtub.
Later we put Morenna to bed and then curled up to watch
Christmas in Connecticut. My contractions were still coming strong, though, and eventually brought tears to my eyes. I had a good cry. Surprisingly, my whole body relaxed after that for the first time in a while. I fell asleep in the middle of the movie. It was just what needed to happen.
Matt woke me to go to bed a short while later. By the time I reached the bed, though, a wave of nausea swept over me along with the chills. Then I knew. The time had come.
We called our midwife and quickly packed up and headed back to the birthing center. The moon was bright and full as we drove the empty roads. My husband was the perfect driver and we all made it in one piece. :-) His watch chimed midnight as we walked through the doors. I was 5cm and 80%. What a relief. Things were finally happening.
As I soaked in the birthing center tub a short while later, my worries popped up again. What if things stopped? I hadn't slept in two nights - what if this took all night? Was I too tired to manage the non-medicated birth I wanted? I just wasn't sure if I had it in me. We prayed. And God was gracious.
My worries only lasted a short time. Within an hour of being in the tub, I felt the urge to push sweep over me. Yet I was only a 7cm and 90%. My midwife suggested breaking my water. We debated the issue... and then within the next contraction, it broke on its own. Dilemma solved.
And then things really moved fast.
With each subsequent contraction, I pushed... and progressed. 8cm... 9cm... 10. Those contractions were so intense. They didn't even compare to the ones I had with Morenna. But they brought Jadyn to my arms in less than an hour. And then it was all over.
And I didn't cry. I smiled.
We had been at the birthing center for two hours and forty-one minutes.
Jadyn's birth itself was very peaceful. I had wished for that when selecting a midwife this time around and it was exactly how I wanted it. Jadyn was immediately placed on my chest and made only a small whimper. I rubbed her and cuddled with her for more than an hour while the nurse and midwife took care of their various duties. (I tore again, unfortunately... but that is another story in itself. Apparently the shoulders of an 8lb baby need more room to enter the world than those of their smaller but older predecessor.)
Matt sat quietly with me as we stared at the new addition to our family. It was wonderful.
So how long was my labor? the nurse asked. I had no clue what to say. But the midwife smiled and said, "oh, just put down a really long time... like since Tuesday".
Tuesday... Wednesday... Thursday... Friday... Saturday... Sunday... all that mattered was that she was finally here. And it was all over.
God had been faithful once again. And we praised Him for his grace.
Welcome to this world, my sweet little girl. It was a joy to give you life.
More pictures to come, I promise. :-)
And I have video and pictures of Morenna and Jadyn's first meeting that I just can't wait to share!
Other pictures are available here.
Removing the tile that I just recently had Dad install, like in July.
Hmm, that pipe might just be in the way.
Excellent craftsmanship by an excellent craftsman...er, craftsmen
