On Thursday May 15th we had a doctor’s
appointment where I was being stress tested/monitored. I’d been monitored 2x a
week for the last 2 weeks because I had some odd things come up in my labs, and
the baby was borderline not having enough amniotic fluid. So they were being
cautious and doing extra monitoring and ultrasounds to ensure everything was
OK. I’d also been put on modified bed-rest (I did not need to stay in bed, but
she did not want me doing anything more than light housework). That got me out
of work a week or so early. SA-WEET! So
on Thursday she offered to check me again to see how far I was dilated. The
Thursday prior (at 38 weeks) I was dilated to a 1 and 30% effaced… so things
were progressing, and looking on target for my due date. She checked again at
39 weeks and I was dilated to a 2 and 50% effaced. They saw on the monitor that
I was having a lot of little contractions- like constantly. So it made sense
why I felt like it was “that time of the month” all the time. I also was
complaining that she had a foot stuck back in my ribs, acid reflux was worse
that day and it was hard to breath. So I was pretty miserable and hoping baby
would just get the heck out of there. After the appointment I felt those little
contractions get a stronger and felt pretty sorry for myself because most
likely I’d be uncomfortable for another week until my due date or beyond.
The next morning on Friday May 16, I woke up at about 6 AM
TOTALLY panicked because I could not feel the baby kicking. She kicks pretty
much constantly, and I could not feel her. ALSO I was usually up every two
hours with acid reflux/kicking during the night, and I had slept for 8 hours
straight. I drank some ice water and poked my belly trying to get her to move,
still nothing. I was terrified that those cramps that I had the day before were
a bad thing. I remembered that when she did not move during one of our
monitoring appointments the Dr. put some loud vibrating thing on my belly. I
found Jon’s electric razor and put the flat edge against my bump and EUREKA!
She moved! After all the panic I started to notice that those obnoxious cramps
seemed to be getting more intense. I laid back in bed and got comfy enough to
fall in and out of sleep until about 8 am.
I got up at 8 and started timing the contractions. They were
stronger, and lasting about 30 seconds, but not super consistent. When Jon work
up around (A rare day he got to sleep in!) 9 he saw me on the couch breathing
funny and staring at the timer on my phone. He asked me if I was OK and I just
looked at him and said “I’m pretty sure we are having a baby today!”. My plan
was to labor at home for at least a few hours before we headed to the hospital.
It is really obnoxious that the hospital is 1 hour away. I did not want to go
there too early and just get sent back an hour home. But I also did not want to
wait so long that I was having the baby in the car. I kept on trying to call my
mom in Sacramento, but she was NOWHERE to be found. Her flight was 4 days away
and I knew she would be mad if the baby came before she got here! Jon and I
started to frantically accomplish everything that we wanted to get done before
baby got here. I cleaned house, did the dishes, and hauled the laundry to the
complex laundry mat. Jon fixed a water leak in our car and went to the
neighboring town to vacuum out the water that had accumulated in there. We did
some research if I should eat anything, and decided to just eat some cucumber
and tomato slices for lunch. All the while contractions where getting stronger
and fairly consistently 5 min apart. I called my Dr. office around 1 to let
them know I was in active labor, and the gal on the other end just said “uh,
why are you calling us? Go to the hospital!” I did not feel like it was time
yet, so I spent an hour curling my hair and applying make-up. LOL! Then we
started getting our bags together and gathering electronics/pillows/snacks and
other miscellaneous things that were not in our bags yet and packed everything
in the car for the long trip to the hospital.
We left for the hospital at 3pm and arrived around 4pm. It
was a beautiful warm sunny day. We stopped for Jon to get a slurpee, and some
water for me to drink. The windy ride down along the ocean was uncomfortable. Contractions
were stronger and I was getting anxious to get there! We made bets on how far
along I was dilated. Jon thought 4 and I was hoping for 5. We were so sure that
we were staying that upon arriving Jon
lugged in our two suitcases, camera, tripod, two pillows and a boppy behind me
as I waddled into the birthing center. I looked at the receptionist, smiled and
told her that we were here to have a baby. I don’t think she took me seriously,
probably because I was smiling and my hair and make-up were flawless. It was a
really good hair day- I regret not taking a picture! We went into a tiny monitoring
room where they hooked me up and we could see that the contractions were pretty
strong and pretty consistent. I stood up because they were stronger when I was
standing and I did not want them to send me home! I also wanted them to do the
work that they needed to do so that the baby would come out as soon as
possible. She measured me and I was dilated to a 4 (Jon won!) and 75% effaced.
They admitted us and we got the room we requested. Availability permitting, you
could either have a garden view room with a bigger tub, or a mountain view room
that still had a tub with jets, just not as big. I wanted a mountain view room,
because the mountains are SO pretty. The nurse tried to talk me into a garden
view because the tub was bigger and I was going to try to go natural, but I
stayed strong. I was happy that I did. Looking at the mountains outside my
window on such a pretty day helped during contractions.
We got to our room and they hooked me up to a monitor. I let
them know that I would like to move around, and on the tour of the hospital she
made it sound like they only did wireless monitoring. She said that she would
look for the wireless monitor, and would ask my Dr. if I could just be
monitored once an hour. My Dr. was in the
hospital until 9 that night! That was lucky because I go to a group of Dr’s and
it is kinda just luck of the draw who actually delivers you. I REALLY liked my
dr. and my second choice would be the midwife from the same group. Both of them
encourage natural birth, and Dr. Stickly had worked with me for 6 months to GET
pregnant, and was the main person I saw while pregnant. I did see the other
dr’s at least once so that I would not have a stranger deliver me. We’d been
trying for about a year before going to her for infertility. So it was kinda
cool that we were finally to the point of having a BABY! I was happy to see Dr.
Stickly there and she said that they could take me off the monitor. Not being
tethered to the bed we started walking the halls, and I started doing squats.
The contractions were getting more intense, but Jon was a good coach helping me
breath through them, rubbing my back and shoulders and squeezing my hand. I had
consistent 3-5 min breaks in between contractions. Periodically I was texting
my family on group chat what was happening. They joked that it was just a hoax
because how on earth would I be able to text while having a baby! I
felt just fine in between contractions though.
They got us a birth ball and I
sat on it and rocked back and forth and Jon massaged my lower back. While we
were doing this around 7PM a new nurse came in and started asking all of sorts
of questions that probably should have been asked upon arrival…. Like if I take
any medications, am I allergic to anything, family medical history (mine is
pretty long LOL). So I’m having some pretty intense contractions while she is
asking all of this and I need to stop every few min to breathe through them.
I’d been doing such a good job and keeping my cool that I don’t think she
thought I’d progressed much- plus my hair still looked too good to take me
seriously. I asked her when they would check to see how far along I was. She
said that they usually do not unless there is a reason to, but she would since
I asked. So I got on the bed and as soon as I did I felt super nauseated. I
told her that I thought that I was going to throw up, but she did not hear me,
so I said it again. She still did not hear me, so I said it again and Jon said
at the same time GET THAT TRASH CAN, SHE IS GOING TO THROW UP. Right then I put
my hand over my mouth and started throwing up. BUT since I had only drunk water
and Jello the last 7 hours the throw up went through my fingers and I sprayed
it ALL OVER the nurse! Not just on her clothes or shoes, but in her face and
hair and all over that side of the room. It was like a water hose when you put
your thumb over it to make it project farther. She grabbed the trash can real
quick and I continued to do my thing while she went over to the mirror to whip
off her face and hair and scrubs. I felt SOOOOO bad. She assured me that she
has 4 kids at home and this was no big deal for her and that they had extra
scrubs at the hospital that she could change into. She also said that it was a
good sign that I was in transition and that now she had a reason to check me.
Sure enough, I was at a 7. I’m pretty sure watching me throw up in her face was
a close second to the actual birth of our baby for Jon. He still tells me how
awesome that was.
I’d been reserving getting into the tub for when I got to
about a 7. So in the jet tub I went. Jon put some orange vanilla scented
essential oil in the tub with me and dimmed the lights and put on some relaxing
music. During contractions he would sprinkle water over my shoulders and hold
my hand. We were in there for about an hour and a half before I got out to be
monitored. PLUS I was turning into a raisin. It was around 9pm at this point
and I’d progressed to about 8.5-9 but that her head was not down very far
because my water had not broken. The nurse said that as soon as it did that the
baby’s head should come right down into position. I told her to just break my
water so we could get this party started, and she said that it will probably
break on its own and just to keep going. So we got on the birthing ball out
again, and I did some squats and rocked and bounced. I was feeling pretty good
about how everything had gone. Probably too good. I was feeling like super
woman, and that having a baby really was not all too painful and that either
everybody else were just big wimps, or I must have amazing pain tolerance/self
control.
We were on the ball for about an hour, heavy contractions. Jon helping
me breathe through them, getting me hard candy to suck on, massaging my back and
getting countless ice chips. My Dr. had been called into surgery and the
mid-wife Tina Doyle (my second choice to deliver me) just got there. She apologized
for not being there earlier because her kid was graduating from the 1st
grade. Now it all made sense why nobody would break my water an hour ago! So
she broke my water and announced that baby had pooped in it. I was worried, but
she said that it would be OK, and to keep going and if the baby did not cry
right away she would suction out her mouth. The contractions after my water
broke were different. They were stronger, and I was more tired. I LOST it. I
asked how long it would be before I would have the baby and she said it could
be up to 3 hours. I started to cry and told her that I could not do it for 3
more hours and that I needed drugs, some sort of drugs, ANY SORT OF DRUGS. The
contractions got harder and harder, my breathing fell apart, Jon was scared
because I was in so much pain. The nurses all kept telling me to breathe
because I was mostly crying/yelling/holding my breath during contractions. So
turns out I am NOT super woman, and my hair was a disaster and it turns out you
really don’t care how you look or if you drug your baby, or even in you get a
dreaded C-section you just want it over.
The Mid-wife suggested that I get back
in the tub and she would talk to the anesthesiologist. It turns out the anesthesiologist
thing was all a rouse, it was too late to do anything, and she knew I wanted to
go natural and told me she would talk to him to trick me. Jon managed to get me
in the tub, but it was not the relaxing experience it was before. Now I was
just a WET hot mess. Not doing any better at breathing, and clinging onto the
hope that any minuet the anesthesiologist would come in and save the day (Joke
was on me!). After an hour of horrible pain they put me back on the bed
and checked me and she said that baby was down and I was a 10 and ready to
push!!!!!
When I got to push it was a totally different experience. It
hurt worse, but somehow I was outside of my body. Also I was STARVING, and all
I could think about was the faster I can get this baby out, the sooner I can
eat. That was incentive enough. In the movies it seems like when they say the
head is there and it is time to push, you push like 2 times and the baby was
out. That is a bunch of bull. I impressed the nurses with how strong I pushed.
I broke a whole bunch of blood vessels in my face I was pushing so hard. They kept
tell me she had lots of hair, and I kept thinking that she would be out the
next push. Nope. It took 39 min of pushing. The nurses all said that was really
good for your first baby. Maybe they were just being nice. She came out
screaming. What a relief! Surprisingly Jon cut the cord, he has been anti
cord-cutting, but after seeing what he saw, he said in the moment it was not as
gross as he thought it would be. They put her right on me and we got to snuggle.
She did have a lot of hair and really big eyes staring at me. I was shaking and getting stitches, and
clutching onto my new baby for dear life. Jon held us both and we were in that
moment for about an hour. It seemed like 5 min. We could not get enough of her.
The nurses came in with a scale and a bath she was weighed her in our room and
cleaned up a bit. Jon started snapping pictures. Hazel Kalia Hoof was born at
11:39 on Friday May 16th 2014. She weighed 7pounds 5 ounces and was
20.5 inches long.
Daddy got to hold her skin to skin while they got me out of
bed and made sure I was OK. When I got back in bed (about 3 am) I was wired,
and the baby was wired, and Jon was dead dog tired. I told him he could sleep
for an hour or so because I had too much adrenaline/hormones or whatever going
through me to sleep anyway. Me and baby Hazy ended up staring at each other for
3 hours straight until the sun started coming up. It seemed as though we were both
in awe of what happened to us. I am so grateful that she was born healthy
without any complications. I can’t believe that I was able to go through with a
natural birth. I had my doubts. If you asked me right after she was born if I
would go natural again, I would say NO WAY. But a couple of days removed I was
already planning the next natural birth. So I think I will go in with the same
mindset that I did this time, I will go to the hospital prepared for natural,
and see how it goes. I am not anti-epidural, and I am not hardcore enough to
have a baby at home. But I do think it is amazing what our bodies can do and
labor went so well for us that I can’t imagine it any other way.
It was not until we were walking out of the hospital and
getting into the car a couple of days later that it really hit me that we were
leaving as a FAMILY! So happy/relieved/thankful that I cried tears of JOY the
whole way home. We love you baby Hazel!
