BLAIRE GRACE: A BIRTH STORY

AKA the longest/shortest labor.

It had been quite the pregnancy, but we made it.

At 37 weeks we breathed a sigh of relief; we were full term. We graduated down from perinatolgy and I met my new OB and I immediately liked her. I remember it being kind of a stressful time since my first labor was so fast (under 7 hrs), and second labors tend to go half as fast, and I continued to contract daily for three months, sometimes coming every three minutes. Because of all these things, we were advised to call an ambulance during a high traffic time, and we also had to think of and secure care for our toddler when we left for the hospital. We had Plans, with friends and neighbors ready and staying close by their phones day and night. I continued to contract daily; at one point in these last few weeks I had Daniel come home from work early, and twice we checked into to the hospital, and every time they would stall out.

At almost 40 weeks I told my OB I had enough. We had been admitted the night before to the hospital for what we thought was labor again, with no further dilation. I requested an induction. She explained that at this hospital, they typically didn’t induce until 41 weeks without a medical reason. I asked her to sweep my membranes and she did. She then happily announced I was now at a 3, and along with a few other points on the Bishop’s Scale, I was now a candidate for an elective inductive, and how was tomorrow morning for me?

“Tomorrow?”

I had held my breath every day for the last three months, in constant mild pain from contractions, so stressed, desperately hoping to make it to 37 weeks or as close as possible. Then for three weeks, I was doing everything I could to end this pregnancy well and as soon as possible, and now the option of “tomorrow” lingered in the air. Did I want it?

“Let me think about it.”

The next option I had to schedule when my OB would be on call was three days later, Monday, my actual due date, 5/27, exactly 40 weeks. I needed more information. I went home to think. I texted my group of mom friends: “Who here has been induced and what was your experience was like?” The results were mixed. I weighed all the options and methods of induction, and carefully considered it. I was an excellent candidate for an induction, especially considering how fast I had gone with my first labor, but emotionally, it was a difficult decision. The pregnancy has been complicated and layered and this decision felt that way too.

The nurse called to schedule me for Friday and I asked, “Could we actually do this Monday?” She agreed, and I was on the calendar. It felt bizarre to be picking the birth date of a child. Like, who has that much control in life? On the flip side, I knew this stressful pregnancy would end at some point, but having that date scheduled and knowing it really would all be over soon, was so freeing for me. In the midst of all the uncertainty, there was some certainty. I was relieved.

My perspective and mood immediately shifted. I knew these would be my last few days pregnant, maybe ever. I was determined to enjoy it. On Friday morning I took Trey to our favorite brunch spot for a last “just us” date. The rest of the weekend was just as joyful: we went to the beach, we flew kites, we ate dinner outside. It was sunny and warm and felt easy and lighthearted again. I needed those days. I needed to finish this pregnancy well, after all that we’d been through. I needed to leave it all on a high note, and I did.

…..

It’s May 27th, a sunny and warm Monday morning on Memorial Day Weekend.

7:02am. My phone rings.

“Hi! Are you ready to have your baby today?” a warm and enthusiastic voice asks.

“Well, I’m not actually sure!” I respond.

The warm voice laughs and talks me through what I’m thinking. I explain what I can in two minutes, that I’d like to know my options, have a specific order of events if possible, including breaking my water first, and use the lowest dose of pitocin as a last resort. She says absolutely, and explains a little more of the process to me. I can tell she is a seasoned nurse; she is both knowledgeable and kind, and I immediately like her and feel an overwhelming sense of peace about the whole process. I say okay and we decide to come in.

We grab our bags that have been packed for weeks/months, and we all pile into the car to take Trey to the grandparents. (My in-laws had been traveling on and off all month, but luckily they were back in town the actual night before.)

I remember thinking, this is all so very calm and such a contrast to Trey’s birth and all of this wild pregnancy.

9:15am. We leisurely park at the hospital and stroll into triage. Nurse Tracy greets us, who thinks we are her elective induction, but it’s actually a different patient. She says, “Oh you will LOVE Jelaine.”

We do, in fact, love Jelaine. She was confident and warm, empathetic and knowledgeable, and I know I am in good hands.

10:30am. First order of business: get that epidural. Jelaine calls for the epidural but I somehow immediately realize I am starving and need to order a turkey sandwich. I knew I wouldn’t get to eat for a while once the epidural was in, so I ask Jelaine to postpone the order so I can eat. My sandwich arrives and I scarf it.

11:15am. Anesthesiologist George arrives. “Hi, how are you, what’s your pain level, how was your turkey sandwich?” which makes me laugh and immediately puts me at ease. The turkey sandwich story circulates on the floor all day. Over the course of the next 24 hours I proceed to order no less than NINE huge sandwiches and scarf them all. Birth makes me starving.

It seems funny to get the epidural when you aren’t in any pain, but this was the order of events I requested as I knew once I was really in labor this would all go so fast. I get lucky with a veteran anesthesiologist. The epidural takes to both sides, and he gives me a half dose to start.

12:30pm. I’m at a 3.5, 70%. My OB breaks my water, as requested. Contractions increase to five minutes apart for a while, but this was pretty typical for me, and they eventually stalled as usual.

4:05pm. I’m at a 4. My OB recommends pitocin at a 2. My nurse talks her down to a 1 since I go so fast. Pitocin at a 1 starts. After a few minutes, I start to feel some contractions. I feel about 6 in 20 minutes, and I press my epidural button to increase the dose and page Jelaine to see if we can get to the full epidural dose instead of half. I tell her it’s about a 7/10 pain, but it is also totally copable, no tears. She comes in, and seeing how regular the contractions are, turns the pitocin off. I feel pressure and tell Jelaine. She looks surprised, checks me, and with an even more surprised look on her face tells me I’m at a 10. From a 4 to a 10 in 20 minutes. In twenty years of nursing she has never seen someone go that fast, and she says if I ever were to birth again, to seriously consider having another induction. I am so relived I made the right choice for me. We wait for the pressure feelings to increase and for the baby to come down a bit.

6:00pm. My OB and a second nurse Brea walk in. There are only four of us in the room this time, and it is quiet and calm. It’s such a contrast to the team of a million people at Trey’s birth since there was meconium in the amniotic fluid and I needed the respiratory team available. I liked this one much better.

6:06pm. I push three times within six minutes and Blaire Grace is here, perfectly healthy. I cry tears of joy, relief, gratitude. It was calm and peaceful and so redemptive in a million ways, especially after that pregnancy. I could not believe it.

Jelaine notes that my labor was just under two hours, with active labor only twenty minutes and a delivery in three pushes, earning me the “history of precipitous labor and deliveries” title. I am grateful for all of it: the way we made it to full term, the millions of ways this story could have gone differently, that we got our baby girl, that her birth was so good, that I felt so empowered and got to call all the shots, that my awful pregnancy was over. For all of it. What a journey.

Birth. Postpartum. Raising children. Growing a family. It’s all such complex, messy, beautiful, challenging, hard, good, redemptive work. Worth a million awful pregnancies and all the postpartum emotions combined. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat, just to have her here. A new little life, our littlest love. Grace upon grace upon grace. Love you, sweet Blaire! Honored to bring you into the world and humbled to be your mom.