Short background on my last birth: water broke in the middle of the night when I was 36+2, labor didn’t start, pitocin, fairly fast-moving labor, no epidural, posterior baby, pushed 30 minutes to deliver my sunny-side up daughter, 7 lb 4 oz and perfectly healthy.
Because my first baby had come so early, by the time I was 37 weeks with my son Ozzy I felt “overdue”. I’d been having prodromal contractions and crampiness for about two weeks. I was so tired of feeling like “is this it?” I’d been dilating and losing bits of mucous plug since 35 weeks. I went in for an appointment on Monday morning, August 30th, and I was 3 cm and 80-90% effaced… my OB said “any day now” which he’d been saying for two weeks so I was just like “yeah whatever.”
The rest of the day, it was like all the prodromal went away. No contractions, no cramping… I felt fairly good, although very tired and very sick of being pregnant. Ozzy was moving fine, so I figured this was just a sign that I was going to be pregnant forever, or for at least another week. Of course I was extremely wrong about this, but this mindset made me miss several “red flags” that should have tipped me off on how the labor was going to go.
At 7 pm I talked to my mom on Facebook, telling her how calm things had been all day and saying “I give up. I’m never going to have this baby.”
Around 8 pm, we got Emma down for bed, and my husband wanted to go over to a friend’s house and have a beer. Since I wasn’t having any contractions or anything, I said go ahead. I fixed a snack and got on the computer for a while. By 10 pm, I started feeling “Braxton-Hicks”… a definite tightness, but not painful. Out of boredom I was timing them on contractionmaster.com, while chatting with some friends. The timing convinced me that it was just more silly prodromal—they were 5 minutes apart or so, but way too short, only like 20-30 seconds long.
So I basically ignored them. My husband got home at 11, and I mentioned that I’d timed some contractions, but said that they weren’t anything “real” and I was just going to go to bed. I went in and laid down next to Em and tried to get some sleep.
I’d been laying down for about a half hour and dozing, although as soon as I’d doze off I’d feel another contraction and it would kind of wake me up, and I’d change position or roll over to my other side. Then I suddenly felt this weird “kick” that was like a pop, and felt a squirt of fluid. I thought “holy crap, did my water just break.” The thing was, it wasn’t as “gushing” as it had been with Emma… more of a trickle. But it still really seemed like that was what it was.
My husband was still awake so I went into the living room and told him I thought perhaps maybe my water might have broken, but don’t get too excited because I’m not sure. We talked about it for five-ten minutes. I went to the bathroom, and checked it out some more, and became fairly convinced that’s what it was. But at this point Emma had woken up and came out into the hallway. I told Jason that I was going to get Emma back to sleep, then we’d figure out what we were going to do.
I went and laid back down with Em, but she was not at all seeming like she was going back to sleep, and I kept getting contractions which were seeming more than BH now—kind of painful. So after about ten minutes of that, we got back up and I told Jason that I was getting real contractions, I was sure my water had broken, and Em was wide awake, so let’s just make our phone calls. At this point it was about 12:15.
My mom was my Lamaze coach—she lives about an hour and a half away. So I called her first. She left immediately to drive up. Next I called my MIL, who only lives ten minutes away, to come over and stay with Em while Jason and I went to the hospital. Then I called the OB office. I was happy that once again I’d lucked out and my own doctor was on call that night. He said to come in, I said that we were waiting for my MIL to get here and then we’d head on in. About 12:30 at this point.
I started getting antsy while waiting for MIL. The bags were packed, so I just grabbed some last minute things like the phone and charger, IDs, insurance cards, cash. Jason had fixed Emma a cup of milk and put on Winnie the Pooh, and she was pretty wound up from all of the excitement. I was pacing around the house, still timing contractions but feeling kind of weird about everything.
MIL got to the house finally at about 10 minutes to 1. We all went out in the yard because we had to put Em’s carseat in MIL’s car. I kissed Em goodbye and then kind of paced around near the van waiting while Jason messed with the carseat. I was starting to really feel the contractions, and was having thoughts like “I wonder if I can do this, I think I may need to get the epidural” which was Red Flag number one… it didn’t even occur to me at the time that hmm, that’s the thought you have when you hit transition. I thought there was no way I was that far along already, and that I was just being a wuss.
We get into the van and start heading to the hospital at 1:00. I start breathing through contractions, feeling silly as I do because everyone says don’t breathe through them right at first, wait until you really have to. But I was feeling so rough I felt like I had to. As we’re driving I’m glancing at the clock and noticing hmm, I just had a contraction at 1:00… then another one at 1:03… then another one at 1:06… at this point I am so stupid because it’s like “hey idiot, your contractions are coming three minutes apart” but I could NOT get it through my head that I was really in labor. Looking back it was probably because last time with the pitocin and the posterior baby, it was much much more painful, and these contractions just felt like they weren’t hurting ENOUGH.
But I was feeling a bit anxious/nervous and wound up. Jason wasn’t driving fast enough. I felt like we had to be moving faster and I was very anxious to get there. Once we got there, we went around to the wrong entrance and then had to back track to go to the ER entrance since it was so late at night. While we’re walking across the parking lot I realize that the contractions are now about 1.5 minutes apart. I have to stop walking, and basically hang from Jason’s neck/shoulders, while moaning through the contractions. Then walk more—then have another contraction—then walk more, etc. THEN I start feeling pressure, which terrifies me because I remember what that type of pressure feels like and it suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks—you’re about to have this baby SOON. I had a flash of fear that I was going to deliver the baby in the parking lot. Part of my mind was like “you’re overreacting, you’re going to feel stupid when you get up there and you’re only 4 cm dilated” but part of me knew.
By the time we got to the building and to the elevator I was in pretty bad shape. I remember telling Jason that it was hurting really really bad. As soon as we got into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor, a contraction hit and I went right down on the floor, hands and knees, trying to rock through the pain. I think we totally terrified the woman who was in the elevator with us.
The door opened and Jason helped me up, we went down the hallway and they let us in. Had to stop for another contraction. Then, we’re in the room—at this point it is 1:15 am. I think the nurse knew from how I was acting that things were pretty far along. I said I had to pee and ran for the bathroom. I think I left most of my clothes in the bathroom floor. I was feeling more pressure, and the pain was very bad. I hopped up on the bed and told the nurse to check me—I was so scared that I wasn’t far along and that something was wrong. She said 8 cm, 90% effaced, +1 station. I had a contraction immediately afterwards and moaning/relaxing was not working, it was really getting on top of me. I wanted to sit upright on the bed, and then stretch my legs out wide pretty much straddling the bed, with one leg hanging off of either side. It helped the pressure in my hips. Next contraction, knowing I was in transition helped and I just let go into my transition-stage breathing, focusing my eyes on this black light-switch high up near the ceiling. It really helped, SO much better. I wasn’t panicked anymore, feeling in control. The nurse—Jackie—says “very good, that’s great, breathe—were you planning on getting an epidural?” I say “no” and she says “great, probably not time anyway.” I hadn’t pre-registered yet, so there is another nurse in there trying to get all of my information, I keep ignoring her because contractions keep coming and I have to breathe through them. Jackie is being great, rubbing my back and saying “you’re doing awesome, you’re doing really good, the doctor will be here any minute.” Another nurse comes in around this time. They ask if I am GBS + and I say yes, so that puts them in a tizzy and they run around getting an IV and antibiotic. In the meantime, Jason is sitting in a chair by the wall, staying out of the way while the nurses are all running around me, waiting for me to give him instructions, haha. I remembering thinking at one point “as soon as all these nurses clear out I’m going to get him to sit behind me and rub my lower back.”
The nurse gets the IV in, and another nurse runs out to get something else, and only Jackie is there for a moment, when suddenly, oh crap, here comes the major pressure. I almost fall back on the bed from where I’m sitting, catch myself, and yell “I have pushing urge!” Hahaha no idea why I used that particular phrasing, funny now that I think about it. Jackie freaks out. “No, don’t push yet, blow, like you’re blowing out candles.” To be fair I think I did try like one little blow, but nah that wasn’t cutting it. I kind of tuned her out because instinct completely took over and I just put my chin to my chest and started pushing. She sees me put my head down and goes into a panic, yells for the other nurse to come back. The contraction ends and I can feel his head down there and I know it’s time. Another contraction comes right away, again they are still telling me not to push, haha! So I tuck my head and push again, and out he comes all at once! Jackie catches him one-handed because she didn’t have time to put her other glove on.
I feel him leave and start yelling (just like last time) “oh my god! Oh my god! Is he okay? Oh my god!” They are saying “he’s fine” and I say “why isn’t he crying!” and then he starts crying. They hand him up to me and put a blanket on us and he is covered in vernix but so pink and healthy looking! I look at the clock, it is not quite 15 minutes since we got into the hospital.
The doctor showed up about ten minutes later, and my mom who didn’t get a chance to coach me this time, haha, about five minutes after him.
So that’s the story of Oswyn James… 8 lb 1 oz, 20 inches long, born at 1:29 am on August 31st, 2010, after a pretty wild ride.
Because my first baby had come so early, by the time I was 37 weeks with my son Ozzy I felt “overdue”. I’d been having prodromal contractions and crampiness for about two weeks. I was so tired of feeling like “is this it?” I’d been dilating and losing bits of mucous plug since 35 weeks. I went in for an appointment on Monday morning, August 30th, and I was 3 cm and 80-90% effaced… my OB said “any day now” which he’d been saying for two weeks so I was just like “yeah whatever.”
The rest of the day, it was like all the prodromal went away. No contractions, no cramping… I felt fairly good, although very tired and very sick of being pregnant. Ozzy was moving fine, so I figured this was just a sign that I was going to be pregnant forever, or for at least another week. Of course I was extremely wrong about this, but this mindset made me miss several “red flags” that should have tipped me off on how the labor was going to go.
At 7 pm I talked to my mom on Facebook, telling her how calm things had been all day and saying “I give up. I’m never going to have this baby.”
Around 8 pm, we got Emma down for bed, and my husband wanted to go over to a friend’s house and have a beer. Since I wasn’t having any contractions or anything, I said go ahead. I fixed a snack and got on the computer for a while. By 10 pm, I started feeling “Braxton-Hicks”… a definite tightness, but not painful. Out of boredom I was timing them on contractionmaster.com, while chatting with some friends. The timing convinced me that it was just more silly prodromal—they were 5 minutes apart or so, but way too short, only like 20-30 seconds long.
So I basically ignored them. My husband got home at 11, and I mentioned that I’d timed some contractions, but said that they weren’t anything “real” and I was just going to go to bed. I went in and laid down next to Em and tried to get some sleep.
I’d been laying down for about a half hour and dozing, although as soon as I’d doze off I’d feel another contraction and it would kind of wake me up, and I’d change position or roll over to my other side. Then I suddenly felt this weird “kick” that was like a pop, and felt a squirt of fluid. I thought “holy crap, did my water just break.” The thing was, it wasn’t as “gushing” as it had been with Emma… more of a trickle. But it still really seemed like that was what it was.
My husband was still awake so I went into the living room and told him I thought perhaps maybe my water might have broken, but don’t get too excited because I’m not sure. We talked about it for five-ten minutes. I went to the bathroom, and checked it out some more, and became fairly convinced that’s what it was. But at this point Emma had woken up and came out into the hallway. I told Jason that I was going to get Emma back to sleep, then we’d figure out what we were going to do.
I went and laid back down with Em, but she was not at all seeming like she was going back to sleep, and I kept getting contractions which were seeming more than BH now—kind of painful. So after about ten minutes of that, we got back up and I told Jason that I was getting real contractions, I was sure my water had broken, and Em was wide awake, so let’s just make our phone calls. At this point it was about 12:15.
My mom was my Lamaze coach—she lives about an hour and a half away. So I called her first. She left immediately to drive up. Next I called my MIL, who only lives ten minutes away, to come over and stay with Em while Jason and I went to the hospital. Then I called the OB office. I was happy that once again I’d lucked out and my own doctor was on call that night. He said to come in, I said that we were waiting for my MIL to get here and then we’d head on in. About 12:30 at this point.
I started getting antsy while waiting for MIL. The bags were packed, so I just grabbed some last minute things like the phone and charger, IDs, insurance cards, cash. Jason had fixed Emma a cup of milk and put on Winnie the Pooh, and she was pretty wound up from all of the excitement. I was pacing around the house, still timing contractions but feeling kind of weird about everything.
MIL got to the house finally at about 10 minutes to 1. We all went out in the yard because we had to put Em’s carseat in MIL’s car. I kissed Em goodbye and then kind of paced around near the van waiting while Jason messed with the carseat. I was starting to really feel the contractions, and was having thoughts like “I wonder if I can do this, I think I may need to get the epidural” which was Red Flag number one… it didn’t even occur to me at the time that hmm, that’s the thought you have when you hit transition. I thought there was no way I was that far along already, and that I was just being a wuss.
We get into the van and start heading to the hospital at 1:00. I start breathing through contractions, feeling silly as I do because everyone says don’t breathe through them right at first, wait until you really have to. But I was feeling so rough I felt like I had to. As we’re driving I’m glancing at the clock and noticing hmm, I just had a contraction at 1:00… then another one at 1:03… then another one at 1:06… at this point I am so stupid because it’s like “hey idiot, your contractions are coming three minutes apart” but I could NOT get it through my head that I was really in labor. Looking back it was probably because last time with the pitocin and the posterior baby, it was much much more painful, and these contractions just felt like they weren’t hurting ENOUGH.
But I was feeling a bit anxious/nervous and wound up. Jason wasn’t driving fast enough. I felt like we had to be moving faster and I was very anxious to get there. Once we got there, we went around to the wrong entrance and then had to back track to go to the ER entrance since it was so late at night. While we’re walking across the parking lot I realize that the contractions are now about 1.5 minutes apart. I have to stop walking, and basically hang from Jason’s neck/shoulders, while moaning through the contractions. Then walk more—then have another contraction—then walk more, etc. THEN I start feeling pressure, which terrifies me because I remember what that type of pressure feels like and it suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks—you’re about to have this baby SOON. I had a flash of fear that I was going to deliver the baby in the parking lot. Part of my mind was like “you’re overreacting, you’re going to feel stupid when you get up there and you’re only 4 cm dilated” but part of me knew.
By the time we got to the building and to the elevator I was in pretty bad shape. I remember telling Jason that it was hurting really really bad. As soon as we got into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor, a contraction hit and I went right down on the floor, hands and knees, trying to rock through the pain. I think we totally terrified the woman who was in the elevator with us.
The door opened and Jason helped me up, we went down the hallway and they let us in. Had to stop for another contraction. Then, we’re in the room—at this point it is 1:15 am. I think the nurse knew from how I was acting that things were pretty far along. I said I had to pee and ran for the bathroom. I think I left most of my clothes in the bathroom floor. I was feeling more pressure, and the pain was very bad. I hopped up on the bed and told the nurse to check me—I was so scared that I wasn’t far along and that something was wrong. She said 8 cm, 90% effaced, +1 station. I had a contraction immediately afterwards and moaning/relaxing was not working, it was really getting on top of me. I wanted to sit upright on the bed, and then stretch my legs out wide pretty much straddling the bed, with one leg hanging off of either side. It helped the pressure in my hips. Next contraction, knowing I was in transition helped and I just let go into my transition-stage breathing, focusing my eyes on this black light-switch high up near the ceiling. It really helped, SO much better. I wasn’t panicked anymore, feeling in control. The nurse—Jackie—says “very good, that’s great, breathe—were you planning on getting an epidural?” I say “no” and she says “great, probably not time anyway.” I hadn’t pre-registered yet, so there is another nurse in there trying to get all of my information, I keep ignoring her because contractions keep coming and I have to breathe through them. Jackie is being great, rubbing my back and saying “you’re doing awesome, you’re doing really good, the doctor will be here any minute.” Another nurse comes in around this time. They ask if I am GBS + and I say yes, so that puts them in a tizzy and they run around getting an IV and antibiotic. In the meantime, Jason is sitting in a chair by the wall, staying out of the way while the nurses are all running around me, waiting for me to give him instructions, haha. I remembering thinking at one point “as soon as all these nurses clear out I’m going to get him to sit behind me and rub my lower back.”
The nurse gets the IV in, and another nurse runs out to get something else, and only Jackie is there for a moment, when suddenly, oh crap, here comes the major pressure. I almost fall back on the bed from where I’m sitting, catch myself, and yell “I have pushing urge!” Hahaha no idea why I used that particular phrasing, funny now that I think about it. Jackie freaks out. “No, don’t push yet, blow, like you’re blowing out candles.” To be fair I think I did try like one little blow, but nah that wasn’t cutting it. I kind of tuned her out because instinct completely took over and I just put my chin to my chest and started pushing. She sees me put my head down and goes into a panic, yells for the other nurse to come back. The contraction ends and I can feel his head down there and I know it’s time. Another contraction comes right away, again they are still telling me not to push, haha! So I tuck my head and push again, and out he comes all at once! Jackie catches him one-handed because she didn’t have time to put her other glove on.
I feel him leave and start yelling (just like last time) “oh my god! Oh my god! Is he okay? Oh my god!” They are saying “he’s fine” and I say “why isn’t he crying!” and then he starts crying. They hand him up to me and put a blanket on us and he is covered in vernix but so pink and healthy looking! I look at the clock, it is not quite 15 minutes since we got into the hospital.
The doctor showed up about ten minutes later, and my mom who didn’t get a chance to coach me this time, haha, about five minutes after him.
So that’s the story of Oswyn James… 8 lb 1 oz, 20 inches long, born at 1:29 am on August 31st, 2010, after a pretty wild ride.
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Excellent birth story and even though I already said congrats in our DDC --
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