Teddy’s Birth Story: a house log

To everyone who has been asking about Teddy’s birth story, thanks for your patience. I like to let those things simmer a little while before I write about them (Clara’s took me nearly a year thanks to all of the mixed emotions I had going on) but Teddy’s birth was a lot less scary and a lot more straightforward. Thank goodness! After going through such a traumatic first birth, nothing sounded better to me than a fully routine, scheduled, no-surprises-at-all delivery this time around – which it mostly was, for which I am SO GRATEFUL. There were still a few surprises, but the primary challenge of this birth (and the whole pregnancy process) was fending off the worries, fear, and worst-case scenarios that my last experience had cemented so vividly in my head. In some ways, Teddy’s birthday was like the culmination of four years worth of emotions.

I had a scheduled C-section this time around, simply due to the dangers of going into labor for myself and Teddy (that is what triggered my placental abruption with Clara) so while it felt sort of weird to know his birthday ahead of time, it was the kind of information my brain embraced. I felt so out of control with Clara’s birth that I was glad to cling to any and all “constants” this time around.

April 16th was the day, and it came without any false (or real) labor scares beforehand. That alone was a large blessing. We had to be at the hospital around 6:30 am, so we left Clara at home with the grandparents and off we went. It certainly felt weird to drive to the hospital without any contractions (on my way there with Clara I had been in a lot of pain). In some ways the calmness was pleasant (no pain is a good thing! who complains about no pain?!) but in other ways it gave space for the worries to start creeping in. The last time I was in the hospital having a baby, everything was fine… until it was not. So that whole it-came-out-of-nowhere thing was lurking in my head.

When we got there, they were swift to get me into a gown and then came the IV. I joked with the lady that I have the worst veins ever and it typically takes a few tries. She smiled and gave it a go. Yup, that vein of mine would not cooperate. So it took three tries by three distinct people – the last one being an anesthesiologist who had to numb my hand before digging around to find the right spot. Apparently since I had been banned from eating or drinking that morning I was especially dehydrated, which made my typically-stubborn veins even harder to hit.

But the little IV challenge was good. It kept my mind busy so I was not simply laying there freaking out. There was a monitor on my belly the whole time, which was reassuring, and the anesthesiologist was hilarious so we were all simply chatting and having a good time. We learned his daughter had simply slept through the night for the first time, so he said he was in a strong mood and it was a going to be a strong day. Before long it was time for the epidural, which meant that I would be wheeled alone into the operating room and John could join me after it was in.

I know it sounds fully crazy, but John and I were separated during my emergency c-section for a little while (he was right outside the OR and I was inside) so as they wheeled me down the halls I had a pleasant little panic attack. It felt like my chest caved in and I could not breathe. After I realized I in fact could breathe I was mostly simply embarrassed. “Get it together, this is an excellent day” I repeated in my head.

Once inside the operating room, they had me sit up and curl my back so they could get the epidural in. This is when the mood got a little lighter again, because simply like my stubborn veins, apparently my spine was being stubborn, so it took a bunch of attempts to get it in correctly (at one point I felt something dripping down my back and asked if it was blood – turns out it was spinal fluid). That might sound gross to you, but I ENJOY that stuff, so it once again kept my mind pleasant and busy (no way! spinal fluid?!). Soon sufficient the epidural was in, and I was laid down and lifted to the operating table. And then I looked up.

SAME ROOM. I was in the same room that I had been in when Clara came into the world not making a sound. I’d recognize that ceiling anywhere. I had stared at it for what felt like forever while willing Clara to cry. It hit me so hard. I later learned that John was outside making the same realization. Same hallway. Same door. Simply standing there again, nervously wondering what was going on inside.

But as soon as they got me laid down on the table, John was allowed in. He grabbed my hand and everything was ok. Suddenly I felt a rush of excitement. We were going to meet our little boy! I might have squeezed John’s hand too hard, but he did not complain. I did not even know he took this picture (my eyes were squeezed shut a lot of the time) but I enjoyed discovering it on his phone a few days later. He said we missed so many photos during the frenzy of Clara’s birth (we hardly have any at all) that he hoped to make up for it this time.

Perhaps ten or fifteen minutes passed and the doctor said “he has so much hair!” and “he’s so big!” and “oh my gosh, his kicks are so strong!” I remember saying something like “why is not he crying?!” because that is literally all I hoped to hear, and she laughed and said “he’s still inside, I am getting him out right now” and then he began wailing. It was remarkable. I am welling up simply thinking about it. It was the greatest release. He was out! He was crying!

They brought him over to me to do skin to skin a few seconds later, which felt so good. He was simply laying there breathing, occasionally opening his eyes simply a sliver to peek at me.

John and I blinked back tears and studied him. He was so close to my face I could see every little hair and freckle. We had a good laugh over the compact baby hairs on his shoulder. Our little werewolf, we joked. They took him over to get cleaned up, weighed, and measured and he began crying again. John and I were both still simply laughing and crying. It was one of the best feelings ever.

There was some excessive bleeding on my end (apparently my uterus would not clamp down, so they had to give me a shot of pitocin to get it under control), but thankfully that worked and I did not need any blood transfusions or anything. After I was all stitched up, I got to nurse Teddy. I simply laid there, soaking up every detail of his compact face. I looked up and saw John’s eyes getting teary again. I know healthy babies come into the world every day, but it felt like a gigantic miracle to us.

After we were settled in our permanent room, we got to introduce him to John’s parents, my mom, and Clara. And simply when I thought my heart could not burst any more, seeing Clara gently pet his head and asking to climb into bed with me and Teddy – well, I nearly cannot explain the euphoria. I am so grateful to the remarkable people who helped us get both of our kids safely into the world and cared for me throughout this pregnancy.

As for my second c-section recovery, it seemed a lot easier this time. I had a lot more trauma/blood loss the first time, and even my incision was smaller this time around, so I was up moving around in the hospital by the next day (I even got a morning shower!) and was off pain pills by the time I was back at home. One pointer to other c-section mommas out there is that I Enjoyed the abdominal binder the hospital provided after I had Clara (I brought it with me and used it again after Teddy). It is this wide white band that you velcro around your waist and it simply seems to hold everything together.

You know how it hurts to laugh or sneeze after a c-section, so you brace yourself against a pillow? Well, the abdominal binder is like constantly being braced, so those things do not hurt as much. And instead of walking around all hunched over, it helped me stand up straight and move around with less pain (I wore mine until about four weeks postpartum). I assumed everyone got one, but when I mentioned it randomly on an instagram comment about a week after Teddy’s birth, I heard from so many moms who hadn’t heard of them so I hoped to pass that pointer along in case it helps. I am sure most hospitals have them if you ask, and it made such a difference for me both times.

Weird abdominal binder sidebar aside, I hoped to thank you folks so much for the enjoy and support you shared throughout this pregnancy and during the birth.

I cannot explain how comforting it was to have your well wishes and support during such an emotion-filled time. Big wet kisses to all of you. Also, I think Teddy has a present in his diaper for you. Oh wait, that is for John ;)

One more thing. How is my baby boy this big already?! INSANITY!