"All the gory details..."

This is a journal entry from December 26.

Leora Danielle Robinson was born at 2:05 a.m. on Christmas Eve. She weighed 8 pounds 11 ounces and is 21 3/4 inches long. She has a head full of dark brown hair and a very sweet disposition. I love her so much.

So, last Thursday we got a flu-like virus. Because I was dehydrated, I started having contractions, and I couldn't tell if they were painful or not, which made me think they weren't (after a while). Friday I had an appointment with Glenda, and we set up an appointment for an ultrasound and another appointment for this Friday, unless we decided to call Sunday to set up to be induced on Tuesday (Sunday and Tuesday were the days that Glenda was on call this week). But Friday night, I started having real contractions. They weren't very painful, but they started from the bottom of my uterus and spread upwards, which meant they were real. But, not regular, and I slept through them, so friday wasn't the night. Saturday morning I tried to tim my contractions, and it was a little tricky. I'd a have a few within 15 minutes that were painful and then nothing for an hour. All day long. I had one to three contractions an hour all day long. And some were painful and some weren't. We were at John's family's house for the evening, and Alice said something to the effect of "real contractions doesn't mean you're in labor" (it sounds rude/mean typing that, but it wasn't when she said it). I wasn't convinced. We came home around 11, and as we were leaving, I thought about having Rachel come sleep over at our house, which she had done the night before, but since she had just brought her things in from our car, I didn't. So we got home, and I had 4 contractions in 20 minutes, painful ones that lasted over a minute each. So we called up to John's family, and they sent Rachel over. And then nothing for 20 minutes.

And then I had 6 more contractions in 20 minutes, but the first 5 were short and didn't really hurt, and only the last one was over a minute and painful. And then we called the hospital. At 12. I wanted John to talk to the nurse and tell them we were coming in...and she asked to talk to me (which I knew she would, but didn't want to talk anyway) and wfter we talked she suggested waiting an hour to see if they became more consistent or more painful. After I hung up, I started crying. I didn't want to wait for an hour. Because I knew I was in labor. So I waited about 30 minutes, then felt like I had to go to the bathroom. I think moving from lying on my bed to the bathroom induced three contractions, because I had four in 5 minutes, kind of continuous. And after I went to the bathroom, I told John that we were going. He called the hospital again to let them know we'd be there in a few minutes.

When Isaac was born, we parked close and then John had to go move our car. I didn't like that. So we parked in a normal spot and walked across the parking lot at 1. I only had two contractions in the 20 minutes it took to get from our driveway to the delivery floor. (Really, they say to come to the hospital when your contractions are painful, last longer than a minute, and are within 5 minutes. Hadn't happened yet.) And then the nurse had me sit in "the chair." The chair that everyone gets checked in when they come to have a baby. After what seemed like forever (probably 6 or 7 minutes), the I had straps around me measuring my contractions and the baby's heartbeat, and found out I was dialated to 7-8 centimeters (10 is when the baby is born). But the nurse didn't see much movement from the baby, so they moved me into room 5, one of the rooms adjacent to the water birth tub, so they could watch for more movement to make sure everything was fine. But I never made it to the tub, and they actually never started filling it up. I'm still just a little disappointed.

By now my contractions were definitely painful and close together. :) My water broke, and I couldn't tell that I didn't just pee all over the place, but it felt so good to have so much less pressure that I couldn't tell. It was really loud. The nurse looked over and asked if my water broke. I think I said something like "I don't care, but its nice," and John said that it had. (He tells me I go a little crazy right before a baby's born. It scares him a little.)The nurses were trying to get me to lift my hips so they could change the pad that was under me, since it was soaked when my water broke. I thought they were loony--I was having horridly painful contractions, and I was moving anywhere. Well, I did move my hips and they were really fast. I think they just had to remove a pad--they must have had four or five under me, so they could take them out at leisure without trying to replace it with a new one. The nurses kept asking if I wanted to change positions, and I think I said "I don't know," but I'm not sure. Yes, I was very uncomfortable. No, I wasn't moving because it hurt to move.

And then, I had to push. I just had to. I couldn't help it. I said, "I'm pushing. I pushing." I think that the nurses knew that already. They didn't try to stop me. John finally said, "It's okay." Oh. I was allowed to push. That was good. The nurse kept telling me to put my knees down and out or something like that. I understood what she was saying but had no idea what she wanted me to do. John told me later that I was pushing while squeezing my legs together. Oh. The nurse held one of my knees down and john kept the other one down. And I pushed, and a baby didn't come out. It took three pushes before she was born. (No, not very many, but 2 1/2 more than Jeremiah took. I don't know what I was expecting...one push?)

And she was wet and squirming and screaming her little lungs out. And they laid her on my tummy. And she was beautiful. And when she was on my tummy with a couple warm blankets over her, she stopped crying. And I fell in love with her. She's my little girl, and she was finally here.

And then the nurses had me push to deliver the placenta. After a few pushes and it not coming, they decided it could wait a little while. A little while later, they had me push again...and I think it was stuck. I was pushing, they were tugging at the cord, and it wasn't coming. And then it mostly came, but part of it was stuck. It was kind of weird. The nurses were jiggling the part of the placenta that was out, and it felt...weird.

So, yes, from the time we got to the hospital until Danielle was born was about an hour. From the time we decided we were going to the hospital (and might get sent back) was two hours. And from the time we left the Robinson's house and told them we'd come back in the morning to help wrap presents was three hours.

It was wonderful to hold her after she was born. (The on-call midwife arrived about ten minutes after she was born.) I just got to hold her close to me. They waited about an hour to bathe her and weigh her. We just got to be a little family, the three of us. It was wonderful.

And I liked not having any strings or cords attached to me. Not having an IV (they were going to put one in because I was dehydrated, but never got around to it) was nice, not having an epidural. Just me. I could walk to the bathroom and take a shower. I felt like I had given birth, not like I was sick or needed "hospitalization." I don't know how else to say that.

The whole experience was beautiful and wonderful and intensely painful. But the pain made the miracle that much more striking.

And I'm doing fine. I did take liquid ibuprofen at the hospital, and it was more to help my muscles relax than anything else. I would lie down in my recovery room on my side and my back and legs would tense up. I think I tensed my legs when I was having contractions at home, and so my muscles hurt at the hospital. I tore a little when she was born, so I do have one stitch, but nothing hurts from delivery. I think the human body is amazing.