Birth Story: Andrew's Arrival

As many of you know, I have had contractions off and on since week 20 of this pregnancy. I started getting regular contractions a couple months ago, and even went to the hospital at 31 weeks because they did not go away and were coming closer together. After that visit, however, I began to just ignore them.

Until I couldn't take it anymore.

On Friday night (Oct. 30), I broke down and sobbed for relief. Ben gave me a Priesthood blessing. This blessing did not promise my pain would go away, but did bless me with the strength to endure. I was also blessed that I would deliver the baby at the right time, and that the baby would be healthy.

I assumed that the "right time" was 2 weeks from then, according to the plan. See, I was to be induced a week before my due date. We had already arranged for Ben's mom to come out and help take care of Emily during the delivery and post-delivery. Everything was organized.

My plan was not the Lord's plan.

Remember Saturday's post? Yeah, that was my breaking point. After a very long night of painful contractions, I called the doctor and told him everything that had been going on. I didn't think I was in labor, but wanted the dang contractions to end. I was in a lot of pain and very sleep deprived because of their persistence.

The doctor was awesome. He sympathized with me and suggested I go to the hospital. He said that since I was not full-term yet (I was 36 weeks and 5 days, full-term is 37 weeks), I could not be induced. However, if I was dilated enough they would not stop the contractions and I could deliver the baby.

I didn't think I would be having this baby, so I called up my sister (who just happened to be in town from Alaska!) and asked if she could take Emily while we went to the hospital. I told her we would probably be out in a couple of hours.

Ben came home from school and took me to the hospital. After a check, they told me that I was dilated to a 3. I was quite surprised. But, after two hours I had not progressed. So, I was sent home with pain medication and a reminder of when I should come back-when the contractions were strong enough.

We picked up the Queen and profusely thanked my sister. I put her on baby watch, just in case the baby did decide to come.

I went home and tried to go to sleep. The contractions were too strong, so Ben suggested I take the pain killer. I did. It did not help.

In fact, my contractions became so strong that I could only lay on my side and moan. I tried to let Ben sleep as long as possible. But, by 3 am they were too strong. I woke him up and informed him we were going back to the hospital.

He looked at me, said "Okay" and immediately fell back asleep.

I turned on the light and began to pack.

After I had everything in the bag, I woke Ben up again and said we were leaving now. He got the hint. He helped make sure I had grabbed everything we needed, and then grabbed Emily from her room.

While driving, Ben realized how close together the contractions were coming. He drove faster.
Once at the hospital, we were told that children under the age of 14 were not allowed inside. Yep. 4 am and we could not bring Emily inside. We begged for allowance until we could call someone and have them pick her up. The lady reluctantly agreed.

Once I was in the triage room, the nurse checked and said--you are dilated to a 5! You are staying!

Yes! I immediately asked for the epidural. She smiled and said she would notify the nurse anesthetist.

Now, I must tell you how grateful I am for friends. At 4 am, I knew who we could call to come and get  Emily: My dear friend, Rachel. So, I called her and told her our predicament. She did not even think twice. She came to the hospital and picked up our sweet daughter. I gave Emily a kiss (a hurried one because I had a rather strong and painful contraction at that moment) and told her I loved her. I would not be able to see her again until at least Monday.

So, a couple hours and an epidural later (which was so wonderful!), I was re-checked and told I was dilated to a 7 1/2. Ben called my sister and told her that if she wanted to see the birth she better start driving.

She got there right in time for the nurse to come in and say she was calling the doctor.

The doctor arrived, broke my water, and I began pushing.

5 minutes later (not joking!), Andrew arrived.

Unlike the Emily's birth, the nurse asked if I wanted him on my stomach immediately following the birth. I said yes, and got to share precious moments with him before they weighed him.

It was a very spiritual and special time.

I finally let them take him, about an hour later, to measure him.

Andrew Herman Turner
6 lbs. 3 oz.
20 inches long

My sister left a while later to take over with Emily. She kept her the rest of the weekend, bless her heart.

Since Manly arrived 2 weeks before we expected, we were in a bit of a predicament. We could not bring the Queen in the hospital, and Manly wouldn't be released until Tuesday morning, at the earliest.

Enter Mom.

My mother called and said she was flying in on Monday to help out.

After I was able to relax, my mind went back to the blessing Ben gave me. Even though the timing was off in my mind, Heavenly Father was looking out for us. He knew we would need help, so He helped my mother find a way to come out and help us. He knew Emily would not be able to come in the hospital, so He made sure my sister and friend were available to help us out. He knew Andrew would come early, but assured us that he would be healthy. Which, he was. The pediatrician was very happy with Andrew's progress. Apparently most babies born near-term have respiratory and/or other problems, but Andrew did not. He was a very strong and healthy baby boy.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers. Thank you for your help and your offers for help! We are very blessed with good friends and family that willingly help us out when we need it.

We love having little Andrew around. Emily gives him many kisses and is patient with my restraints. I will post more pictures of both of them soon.

Emily's Birth

I was in labor for a total of 15 hours. I decided before I gave birth that I wanted to try hypnobirthing. Ben and I went to 6 sessions with our wonderful hypnotherapist, Diana, and practiced at home until I went into labor. Hypnobirthing allowed me to experience a pain-free labor until my water was broken artificially. After my water broke I felt pain that I hadn't experience before and decided that I did not like it and asked for an epidural. After that I pushed for 20 minutes or so and Emily came into the world. I learned a few lessons from my experience.

1. Do not go to the hospital until absolutely necessary.
2. Do not allow myself to get talked into speeding up labor, allow labor to progress naturally.
3. Fight for my rights and speak up when I don't like something!
4. Find a midwife that does not do episiotomies (luckily I fought my midwife on that point and won!)
5. If I tear, talk to the midwife about not sewing up the tear.
6. Remind the midwife that I would like to hold my baby before they weigh and do all the post-birth stuff.
7. Listen to Ben and allow him to bring me into relaxation.
Despite the fact that some of our experiences with this labor left us with a bitter taste in our mouths, I cannot complain. Emily was born healthy and I was healthy. We had a great nursing staff that helped me with breastfeeding and answered all my questions. I am very grateful for the lessons we learned from our first experience with having a baby.

To Emily: Your Arrival

Though I was a week late on my period, I refused to take a test.  At least until I could surprise Ben.  Naturally, as soon as he heard the test wrapper--at 4 am--he couldn't resist tumbling into the bathroom.  Since it wasn't a secret anymore, he sat with me as we waited for the results.

And there they were: two pink lines.  A perfect gift to your father on his birthday.

At exactly 22 weeks, while I was sitting in my morning class, I felt the first kick.  I had waited, somewhat impatiently, to feel those movements.  The location of my placenta--directly in front (behind?) of my belly button, insulated my skin from feeling your movements sooner.  Anyway, I felt the first movement and immediately stopped paying attention to the lecture.  I could hardly wait until I could call your father.

Two weeks later, I had an appendectomy.  It was a terrifying experience.  I am extremely glad nothing happened to you.

Finally, things settled down.  I eagerly awaited, and prepared, for your birth.

At 38 weeks, 10 days before your official due date, I took castor oil to get things going.  Within hours, I was having regular contractions.  Per the birth training I had used (hypnobirthing), I breathed through them.  They were intense, but I did not feel any pain.  By midnight, your father convinced me to pack our bags and head to the hospital.

Once there, we settled in for the hour wait to see if we would be admitted.  While I continued to breathe through the contractions--the peaks continued growing while the time between was shrinking--your father watched the Olympics.  At that time of night, the only event on was speed walking.  Talk about thrilling.

Though I had not progressed too far, the nurse convinced my midwife to admit me because clearly my contractions were not going to slow down.

The nurse wheeled me to our room and Ben turned on calm music.  I used a variety of breathing techniques to keep my body relaxed and felt as comfortable as I could.  Between contractions (which were happening every 30 seconds), I dozed.

Although I should have felt exhausted, I could not wipe the smile off my face; nor rid my body of the adrenaline.  I was to meet my little girl soon!  I would be seeing the face I had pictured so perfectly for the last 9 months.  I was ready.

As with most first pregnancies, the labor was slow and intense.  I was admitted in the hospital at 1 am.  By 7 am, I had progressed to a 6 and the midwife encouraged me to have my membranes ruptured.  I was too exhausted to argue, so she went ahead. Though things had progressed calmly, once my membranes were ruptured, the pain rocked through my body.  Sending me into spasms.  I tried everything.  I went to the bath, walked around (the hospital's strict policy of constant fetal monitoring did not ease my sufferings), and had Ben massage my back.  I breathed.  I pictured calm images.  Nothing worked.  At 9 am, a different midwife (one who I did not like) looked in, checked me, and insisted I start on a Pitocin drip.  Her reasoning was I had slowed down.  Since I was clearly in pain, and not in a condition to respond rationally, I agreed only after requesting an epidural.  My plan of natural birth went out the window, and I was okay with that.  And so was Ben.

I hunkered down, waiting for the anesthesiologist.  When he arrived, he asked that I stay still.  Since my contractions were still overlapping, with only a few seconds break in between, I knew this request would be utterly impossible.  With Ben's stabling hand, I held still long enough for the doctor to insert the needle.

Once the anesthesia spread through my blood, my body relaxed.  I was able to breathe slowly again and finally able to rest.  After a few hours, the nurse checked me and, much to my surprise, announced I had progressed to a ten.  She called the midwife and everyone else who is involved with the birthing part (I don't even remember who was in there, I just remember it was a big group of people).

Unfortunately, the midwife was not patient and holistic like she had learned in training.  After only one push, she said she would need to perform an episiotomy.  I refused.  Each push she would say the same thing and I would vehemently disagree. I knew I didn't need one.  I held her off long enough to push you out.  By that time, only 15-30 minutes had passed and I had pushed maybe 5 times.  When I felt your head and feet come out, heard your cries, and saw your face, I had a rush of emotions.

The silly midwife did not give you directly to me.  Instead, she handed you off to the nurses for your first bath as she sewed my few tears up.  Your daddy and I had to wait until almost 10-15 minutes after your arrival to hold you.  Everything felt surreal.  I couldn't quite grasp that you were really mine; that I was your mom and Ben was your dad.  I held you and, between exhaustion and fear, felt disconnected from the moment.

When I finally sat down to nurse you, it was both beautiful and incredibly painful.  I bore the pain and successfully managed to nurse you almost the entire time in the hospital. (It took 4 months for the pain to finally subside, but I grew to really love it and have never regretted sticking with it.)

There were many things I felt angry about with your birth.  As time progresses, the pain, anxiety, and fear of those first negative experiences fade.  I now look fondly on the labor and birth.  You were the first; as such, there are many special moments that are incomparable.

That first night, Ben held you.  I was physically and emotionally spent and needed some sleep.  You were awake that entire night, just looking at everything around you, exploring your new world.  As I woke up sporadically throughout the night, I would see you and your father gazing at each other.  You with curiosity, your daddy with amazement, and I fell in love with you and your father (again).  I knew those moments he had were moments that would be repeated--with both of us--over our lifetime.

There are many moments that I worry I have let you down.  As I grow more confident, I feel I am growing into being your mother. From birth to now, I still feel this sweet connection with you.  I love to hug, kiss, and snuggle you.  Thank you for loving me despite my many imperfections.

I remember our small family then.  You were--still are--the center of our attention.