Jackson Robert: Born January 10, 2014 at 5:24pm. 7lbs 10oz, 20" long

Thursday, January 9, 2014 was just like any other Thursday. I was home studying for my boards, Mike went to work but was planning to come home early for my 39 week appointment and then for him to get his hair cut.

Around 3pm we entered the doctor's office, and my OB did the usual check, and asked to strip my membranes. For those curious, it's a very common procedure done (depending on your OB) between 37-42 weeks in which the doctor separates the amniotic sac from the inner lining of the uterus using a sweeping (tornado) motion with her hand/fingers. Dependent upon how dilated you are prior to the procedure, it will either hurt like hell or you won't even feel it. Being the impeccably lucky (NOT) individual that I am, Jack was so low and me only 2cm dilate, I was pretty sure in the 30 seconds it took my OB to strip my membranes that I was going to have a baby in my arms by the time she was done. That was the second most painful thing I've ever done... probably for Mike as well, as I screamed more in that 30 seconds than I did during actual labor. Good news for the Mamas out there who are considering having it done at the end of their pregnancy: if it does hurt for you, it will only hurt for 30 seconds.

The long and short of membrane stripping is this: it releases a mass amount of your own hormones (prostaglandins) into the cervix as the amniotic sac in which the baby is floating is stripped away from the inside of your uterus. This surge of hormones will ultimately ripen the cervix for labor, signaling the uterus to get this show on the road. For some Mamas it works like a charm, for others it doesn't do a darn thing. It has no negative effects on baby, and can actually aid in shortening labor if it does work. So my recommendation: try it. If it doesn't work the 1st time, try it at your next appointment. If it doesn't work the 2nd time, don't be a fool. Give your poor lady parts a break and just be patient.

So 39 weeks along, on January 9th at 3pm, my OB stripped my membranes, told me to go get a cheesburger, and wait for something to happen. Which is ultimately what I did (though it was in fact a chicken sandwich, not a cheeseburger), then went with Mike to the Vici Institute to get his haircut at 4pm. Mike's stylist, though a total sweetheart and actually very pretty, took FOREVER to cut his hair, so I was chilling out there until almost 5:30pm waiting for him. By 5pm, I started feeling a little woozy, maybe some indigestion, I thought. We left the salon and I remember turning to Mike as we walked to the car, saying "I feel weird. I need to go home."

So, seeing as I wanted to go home, we went to Pick n' Save instead. Because that makes sense. We grabbed a few items, a movie, and walked out to the car. It was now almost 6:30pm, and I was getting uncomfortable. Uncomfortable like when it's that time of the month. That can't be right... PMS? What is going on here?

And then 7pm hit, and let me just say, all I wanted to do is take 24 ibuprofens and drown myself in a lavender-scented chocolate jacuzzi. At least for myself, I went into this thinking labor contractions would feel like a tearing, or burning, or sharp pain, or anything but what they actually were for me. I was expecting gut-wrenching, machete-to-the-insides kind of pain. I was having Braxton Hicks contractions since 28 weeks, and while they were uncomfortable and made the outside of my tummy feel like a cement wall, they were NOTHING compared to labor contractions. Labor contractions were like the worst period cramps I've ever had in my life. I tried lying in every position on our couch, walked up and down the stairs and did laps around the house about 3,672 times. I took a hot shower, took a cold shower, tried warm compresses, tried watching a movie, tried listening to music, tried stretching... but the pains kept getting stronger and closer together, between 3-4 minutes apart and lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute. By 10pm Mike was convinced: "Mandy, for real, you can call the hospital now."

Now I have to explain my predicament here: I've been working in Labor & Delivery for over a year. I'm the one telling Mamas when to come in, when the fluid they lost or contractions they're describing to me on the phone sounds like the real deal. I've been the one standing next to them coaching them through pushing and holding their legs up, doing their assessments, and doing baby's assessments and checks. For a year now I've been in the driver's seat, directing Moms & Dads on what to do. But when it's you, when you're the one in the passenger seat, all that knowledge and smarts and common sense falls out the back of your head and all that knowledge basically turns into a crockpot of gooey stupidity. So the last thing I wanted to do was call my friends at work for a "false alarm." But after a great deal of nagging and coercing from my more-sensical-than-I husband, at 11:15pm I called work, and what do ya know, my friends gave me those exciting but scary words every soon-to-be-mom wants to hear: "Yeah, Mandy, I think it's about time you came in."

Here we go...

So, around 12:15am, on January 10th, Mike and I packed up the last of our things, I ate my "last meal" (all I could muster by this point was a banana) and arrived at the hospital in our schnazzy little Corolla, parked that baby right outside the skywalk, and made our way to the 6th floor of Children's & Froedtert Hospital. It took us a grand total of 10 minutes to drive from our house to the hospital, and about 20 minutes for us to walk from the parking structure to the Labor & Delivery unit. No, it was not because it was a long walk. It was because me, being the non-sensical laboring mother I was, absolutely refused a wheelchair. I NEEDED to walk. Don't ask me why, but I even got annoyed with the janitorial lady who was vacuuming because she was kind enough to offer me a wheelchair. I suppose when your contractions are coming with a vengeance every 3 minutes, it doesn't matter whether you're sitting or standing, it's gonna hurt regardless, so what's a wheelchair gonna do anyway?

Almost there!

Get you there faster, that's what. For goodness sake, Moms, take the damn wheelchair when someone offers it to you.

Fake smiling for the camera in between contractions

My admission went like any other admission, I had to be poked 3 times again for my IV as my veins are every nurse's worst nightmare. Not that it mattered- a little poke in the arm or hand was nothing by then. 1am came and went, as did 2am. By 3am the breathing and relaxing techniques were no longer working as my body went into transition and I couldn't stop throwing up with each contraction (praise God all I'd eaten was a banana), and the doctor finally came in and said I should consider getting an epidural as things weren't getting any better. I graciously obliged by that paint, and let me tell you: getting that epidural was the best decision of my freaking life.

Breathing...

Now let me say, I was totally hoping for a natural labor and birth. I still believe that's beautiful, and it's what

we women were made to do, so all the more power to those women who can make it the whole nine yards without an epidural their first time around. But I am 100% content with joining the epidural club. Why? Because it was like
a night and day difference in how I was able to function after that point. Granted, my legs turned into the consistency of a jellyfish, but once they placed the epidural I was able to breathe again. The vomitting stopped, I could feel baby moving, and Mike came into bed and snuggled with me and rubbed my awkward jellyfish feet while we watched Boy Meets World and I feasted on water and ice chips. I could relax and can genuinely say I was comfortable. By 4am I was able to call my mom myself and tell her Jack was on his way so she could come. I was able take a nap with my husband, and laugh with my mom in calm and quiet. There's something to be appreciated about being able to really enjoy those last hours and minutes with those closest to you rather than focusing on your breathing and distracting yourself. And seeing as my labor ended up being 22 hours long, I sure am glad I did. Going back, would I get the epidural again? Oh hell yes. I would get it sooner if I could.

Oma came to keep me sane :)

At 5am my water broke, and I was 6 cm dilated. My OB arrived, and predicted Jack would be here by lunchtime, and that she'd hurry through her clinic patients to get back in time as she was not on call that day. By 11am, I was at a standstill. I was still 6cm, 100% effaced, and at +2 station. The RNs nor the OBs could understand it, as everything had moved so fast up to this point and then I got stuck with no progress. At that point they started pitocin to hopefully induce a progression, but nothing seemed to be working.

I don't even know how many bags of LR they'd
pumped into me by this point, but you can see from
the photo I was puffy!

This is the part where things got scary. Once a woman's water breaks, it is preferred she gives birth within 12 hours due to a risk for chorioamnionitis- an infection of the internal membranes of the sac and uterine lining due to irritiation brought on by labor contractions. Seeing as my water had broken at 5am, I was due to have Jack by 5pm. By 2pm, I had spiked a fever and the doctors were assuming the worst: indeed I had gotten chorio. A resident came in and gave me the scary news: If I didn't have at least a 1cm progression within the hour, I would need a c-section. Yes, I did cry like a baby. Who wants a c-section if they can help it? And then I demanded they up the pitocin and I sit up in bed to stretch and get this kid to put some serious pressure down there.

Holding Jackson for the first time

And at 3pm, my OB returned for the scariest check of my life. Who knew the words "8 centimeters" could

cause butterflies to fly out your ears? Praise God for that. The last 2 hours are a blur, as my temperature rose to 101F and I became more and more sleepy, and the doctors ordered antibiotics for the chorio infection. At 5pm, my OB checked me one last time and found I was complete. And after 5 rounds of pushing (in between which we had a decent amount of laughter, which was very much needed by this point), at 5:24pm Mike and I finally got to meet our son. 7lbs 10oz, 20" long. He was perfect. After 22 hours of labor, some 20 minutes of pushing, and a whole bunch of tears and laughter, it was all worth it. And I was ready for a cheeseburger. Maybe five.

Due to the long labor and fast delivery I had, Jack was born with transient tachypnea, which is common in babies whose moms do not push very long. When a baby moves through the birth canal, the contractions of the uterus typically put pressure on the baby to push excess fluid out of the lungs on their way into the world. If a mother has a short delivery, this pressure is cut short and many times babies are born with excess fluid in their lungs, causing them to breathe faster than normal. As a result, Jack had to remain in the hospital for extra monitoring for a few days before he could come home. By the 3rd day, needless to say Mike & I were very, VERY ansy and couldn't wait to come home. We were so ready to begin our lives as a family and settle into a new routine with our little one.

For the time being, Jack is doing amazing. He is the most beautiful, perfect, silly snuggler we've ever met. He has Mommy's round face and chin and Daddy's hair color, nose and lips. As all newborns do, he has bright beautiful blue eyes which we'll find out around 6-9 months if they remain that color or change. And our favorite part: he has hair :) Lots of it, with some curls down by the nape of his neck, just like Daddy. We're so in love with this little bundle it's hard to really explain just how amazing it is to be parents for the very first time. Extremely exhausting, but so worth it, to say the very least.

Jack's first night home was the worst due to being circumcised literally 2 hours before being discharged, so Fussy McFusserson kept us up all night. In the days following, he sleeps 3-4 hours each night as I have to wake him up for feeds. His pediatrician gave us the ok to let him go 4 hours if he can due to maintaining a good weight and having no major signs of jaundice or other health problems. So we're very thankful everything is going so well thus far.

Thank you so, SO much to all of our amazing family members and friends who provided us so much support in the months leading up to Jack's birth. We are so grateful to have brought him into the world surrounded by so much love. Now on to the most fun, demanding, and hardest part: parenthood. And seeing as we have two dogs to parent as well (one of whom thought Jack was treat when we first brought him home... Riley), this should be a very, very amusing journey.