You all know how I love a good birth story. I spare no details... be prepared this could get long. The end of this pregnancy had been far different from the other 3. On Thursday and Friday night I had regular strong contractions in the middle of night that got me out of bed. I went downstairs both nights to start cleaning up and then they'd stop abruptly. Saturday morning I got a text from my beloved midwife in Dallas suggesting I take stairs two at a time to help the baby's head settle into a better position just in case that was the reason my labor was stopping. I got the text while we were at the park so I walked up and down the bleachers for a good 15 minutes. Best work out I've had in... oh you know 9 months at least. We came home I took a nap and then headed off to buy the Hunger Games and get a pedicure with Jeni while I contracted regularly.
After dinner David and I put the kids down and started watching our movie. The contractions kept coming but they were 20 minutes apart. At about 10pm they started to hurt more and came every 7 minutes. I didn't want to call Ben in the middle of the night to come over so I decided around 10:30 to call him so he could crash at our house even though I knew I wasn't too far along yet. I was anxious just to know if tonight was the real deal. See, I really am starting to identify with normal pregnant women. We walked into the hospital about 11pm, the nurse checked me and said I was at a 5 and 90% effaced with the baby at a zero station. I wasn't really disappointed because I knew I came in early and I'd have to deal with the consequences. I asked which doctor was on call and I didn't recognize his name so I asked what she thought of him. When she replied with "he's okay" I decided to call my OB Dr. Skinner (the Bishop from the other ward) who had agreed to come in even if he wasn't on call. The nurse made me call him so she wasn't obligated to call the on call doc and I felt bad when I told him I was only at a 5. This entire pregnancy I had promised Dr. Skinner I would walk in at 8cm and all he'd have to do is catch. He said it's no big deal and showed up about 11:40pm then joked that I should already be fully dilated. He then told the nurse to only monitor me a couple of minutes every half hour and to let me stay on my feet. He headed off to sleep and David and I made a couple of rounds through the hallways.
Contractions started to pick up to every 4-5 minutes and I was over with walking so we turned on the Syfy network (one of only 10 channels) and watch some crazy zombie movie to pass the time. It was at that point when contractions were getting stronger that I realized I had completely forgotten how painful real contractions were. How does that happen every time? I informed the nurse when we checked in that I was a hands off patient and she got the message loud and clear because after the initial checking she didn't touch my cervix again... later she would decide that was her bad. She came in about 1:45am for another monitoring. Then she headed out the door. As soon as she left I knew I was getting closer. David was rubbing my back with every contraction and I kept telling myself it's going to get worse just wait till you hit transition. I sent a text to my sister at 1:58am that said "this is taking forever" and literally as I put my phone down I barreled my head into David's chest in pain. I knew I was about to lose it emotionally because it hurt so bad and I said to David "I want to cry, that means this is it." That was the quickest transition I had ever experienced and I told David I needed to go to the bathroom one last time and then we'd call the nurse in. My only disclaimer is that I've never had an IV during labor and was unprepared for the need to pee every 5 minutes during the entire laboring process.
So I sat down and realized immediately the urge to bare down. I say bare down because I haven't had to "push" since I was delivering Ashton. The girls just slid out when I stopped trying to hold them in. I attribute that to the fact that I never laid down with either of them during delivery. Anyway... back on topic. I sat down and realized what was happening and told David to go get the nurse. I stood up and my water broke. Did I mention we haven't done this hospital thing in 4.5 years? So a call button that was next to my right elbow wasn't even acknowledged until after the delivery. Standing all alone in the bathroom and I literally felt Lucy start to crown and said right out loud "No Lucy, no!" I had no chance of keeping her in and I didn't really feel the need to. I had pulled both of her sisters out on my own and this wasn't all that different except I was missing my midwife. So I let her tiny head come out right into my hands as I'm standing in the bathroom by myself. Not two seconds later David and the nurse show up. The nurse who had only been in L&D for about a year looked at me shocked and asks if I can make it to the bed. Right lady... don't mind me and the head I'm holding in between my legs right now. Realizing who I'm dealing with I go ahead and push the rest of her body out as the 2nd nurse walks in who is far more comfortable with the situation. I hold her close to me and the 2nd nurse is very calm and helps clear a way a loose knot around her neck. The cord was short so I'm still kind of crouched down waiting for someone to figure out what to do with me. Yes, it was in this moment that I missed my birthing tub but also I felt simultaneously elated that I had just caught girl #3. The 2nd nurse told the 1st nurse to grab a towel and the 1st nurse grabbed one and threw it on the floor to soak up the water... the 2nd nurse and I both looked at her in shock and I told David to reach behind him and grab that towel to put on the baby. Random moment that stuck with me... mostly because I was calm enough to know the nurse needed help.
Then Dr. Skinner came walking in as I'm standing their holding Lucy still connected to the cord. He's become a pretty good friend to David and I these past few months... I swear the first thing he says to me is, "Oh you guys are funny...". Nurse #2, the competent one, now tells me to just sit down on the toilet for a minute so they can cut the cord. The Doc comes over and clamps and David cuts. Literally the minute after it is cut I hear a "Plop!" and there goes my placenta right into the toilet. This was a pretty great moment for me because I loathe pushing out the placenta. At this point I walked over to the bed and the nurses took Lucy and started cleaning her off. She was gargling a bit, nothing serious, and she was breathing continuously but it was a great reminder to me that even though I can do the delivery on my own I felt so relieved to have trained professionals there to make sure my baby was okay afterwards.
The rest was pretty textbook and smooth. Dr. Skinner made sure I didn't tear and that my placenta was intact. I wasn't sure who had to fish it out of the toilet... lol but I know it was examined and was just fine. In fact I'm pretty sure the clamp was still on one end of it when they scooped it out. I'm trying not to smile as I type this because I still find that part so humorous. Dr. Skinner kept walking around looking at me like I planned to deliver her on my own. My only defense is that if I had really planned it I probably wouldn't have chosen the bathroom as my ideal location. But I love how it all happened. Almost as natural as the other two girls who were at home.
Still nothing like seeing the person you love most in the world holding a new baby. It doesn't get old.
The obligatory new baby shot. I'm posting for posterity's sake only.
David got home from the hospital at 3:30am and still managed to get the kids dressed and to church at 9am the next morning. They went to the first hour and afterwards came right over to meet their little sister. They couldn't get enough of her.
After a few minutes they finally looked up to say cheese.
This is one of my new favorite pictures ever. Hannah cannot get enough of Lucy. She is going to be the best big sister.
And there you have Lucy's story and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
