But for now, instead of catching up on all the things we've been up to (buying a house, moving, building and planting our first real garden, etc) I think I'll just jump right into Eveyln's birth story.
My pregnancy with her had been much like Elise's, no complications, exact same weight gain, and of course, I went long again. AGAIN. Per instruction from the midwives, I was practicing my positive affirmations that this baby would not go over and would come right on time thankyouverymuch. Ah. Sadly, this was not the case. Evelyn stayed in 16 days past my due date. For those who haven't had any kids or any up close and personal experience with pregnancy, the end is a slog and every hour you stay pregnant is tiring. Additionally, I happened to know exactly no one who had gone over their due date in women around my age. Only women my parents' and grandparents' age could claim being 'allowed' to go past 40 weeks. In fact, the majority of the women I knew in my midwife groups and women in hospitals, all had their babies early. So, you can imagine my frustration watching all these other pregnant ladies burst while I'm twiddling my thumbs. When you've been pregnant for almost 11 months, you get pretty impatient. Also, pregnancy with a toddler? It is no joke. I felt almost completely unable to care for Elise properly. Of course, I met all of her basic needs, but playing? Chasing? Even picking her up and putting her to bath or bed? Nearly impossible in those last months. Talk about feeling guilty.
Anyways, I was READY. Ed's birthday comes and goes and I can't believe after all the jokes I made about there being no way this baby was going to come on his birthday because it was 'too late', that I am still pregnant. Well not for long apparently. I woke with some pretty strong contractions around 1:15am on the 20th. Not ready to get too excited, I told Ed to stay in bed and went downstairs to try to encourage labor. My mom was still in town waiting for this crazy baby to appear so I texted her that I was up and thought maaaaaybe something was going on. It all felt like it was going very slowly - it was not. After a couple hours of alternating between sitting on the couch and falling to my knees with each contraction, I began to get sick. Last time, that was when things got 'serious.' So I woke Ed around 4am and told him this was really happening. I felt pressure to keep up this pace so I could get the baby out before Elise woke up. It amazes me that just smothering myself with a throw pillow was enough to keep my moaning from waking her all of those hours.
I think the midwives arrived not too long after that and mostly stayed out of the way for a good bit. They checked on me and the baby and all was fine so we just kept on laboring. This was about the time I started to check out just a little bit and get antsy that this was taking so long. Once again, let me say, it was not. The pain this time around just made it feel like time had turned to taffy. Torturous. I thought that moving to the tub would help with the pain but boy was I wrong. It was agonizing. You can imagine my disappointment that it was not as big a relief as I had heard. I told Ed I wanted the hell out of that tub and moved back into the bedroom. Ed thinks this was probably me transitioning, and he's probably right because I was not as graceful about labor from this point on. Read: many expletives. If I wasn't saying them aloud, I was saying them over and over in my head. My midwife said I kept saying 'this is so much more painful!'
I asked the midwives for some help at this point, anything to get this baby OUT. We tried some positions that I don't need to describe in detail here, but it was hands down the most painful experience. I remember looking down at my naked body and I was covered in sweat. It was just rolling off of me as if I had been running a marathon. The midwife and the midwife student were unbelievably supportive. The student was so soothing when I felt like I just could not do it this time around and just wanted to go to a hospital and get someone to do this last bit for me. But I was determined as HELL. No more labor for me. No more being pregnant. After this baby I would never have to do this again! This baby had to come out now. So I told everyone to stop touching me and thought of nothing but seeing this through to the end. I ended up on all fours, which oddly, was where I was with Elise when things were getting serious before Mom and Ed had to have my get on my back in case they had to help with the baby. Remember, the midwives didn't show up to my first birth until 15 mins or so before Elise came out. Not long after that my water finally broke and then Evelyn followed shortly after. I remember the midwife saying I could touch her head and that I could take my time, that there was no hurry. I did hold her head on the way out briefly, but I was done. I was hurrying to get this finished and have the baby in my arms. And then there she was! All 21 inches and 9.5 lbs ish of her at 8:49 am.
This is our first picture together, still on the floor in the bedroom.
She was super quiet, not disconcertingly so, just like she was watching you, unlike Elise who was hollering in my face. It was a much calmer endeavor this time at the end. Funny how the girls took such different paths here. Elise was a perfect, easy, comfortable 20 hr labor, but a horrible immediate postpartum experience. Evelyn was a painful, challenging 7.5 hr labor, with a relaxing, easy postpartum experience. I don't think either is better than the other, just vastly different.
I'll try to amend this when I get a chance to check with Ed and Mom about what they remember. Next post? Evelyn's belated one month recap.
I've missed writing, you guys. I'm sorry I've so many run on sentences and incoherent thoughts. I'm very out of practice, but, I hope to polish my skills again and get back at it. Add exercise, singing and housekeeping to that skill sharpening list too!
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