Tuesday, April 8, 2014


Today my little Eleanor Blythe turned 6 months, half a year! I've been a mother to this beautiful little soul for half a year. I couldn't be more lucky! As I write this she's sitting in her bumbo, sucking on those dumb straps that will never be used for their intended purpose, and cooing at me. She has a light in her eyes that's indescribably joyful and I'm convinced that it's my purpose to keep that light right where it is.

Today I woke up tired and completely unmotivated and I'm pretty sure Ellie did too. Then I realized it was a birthday day and celebrations needed to happen. We ate some delish ice cream for breakfast and I put Ellie in her confetti dress and we joined Melinda and Brookie at the park. I most definitely have a sun baby, too bad her poor fair skin doesn't agree. It was a lovely day...but how about a birth story?

Please note: this is long and the pictures of me are...not cute.

The last week of my pregnancy was quite the ride. I started the week off with two solid days off puking my guts out. I then finished the week at work, wept as I walked away from the U and my wonderful job and co-workers on Friday, watched more like slept through General Conference on Saturday and Sunday and then spent that Monday (my actual due date) in labor. I didn't know it though.

I had some irregular contractions early early Monday morning from about 2 - 3 am and then I was just mostly uncomfortable for the rest of the day. Other bodily things happened, but I'll spare you. I actually didn't pack my hospital back until my actual due date, ugh I can be such a procrastinator. Honestly though, through all of my dr. appointments no one thought this little gal was going to be coming on her own. We had an induction scheduled for the 14th, the following Sunday. I was dilated to like 0.5 and about 40% effaced. Would you have gotten excited over those numbers? Me either.

Monday night around 10 p.m. J.rue and I finished up our frozen burritos and I started getting contractions again. I was sure that they would be around for just a little bit like the morning before, but they stayed around. I sent j.rue to bed just in case we would have to take an early morning drive up to the U Hospital. I showered (3 times) to try to help the pain, but to no avail. I figured that since I was showered I might as well get ready. My contractions started getting gnarly. They would roll from my back to my front and rolled up to my teeth. Every time a new contraction came along I have to grip to sink and tippy toe around. Contractions are miserable.

I called the hospital and they told me to call back once my contractions were 4 minutes apart. I live about 30 minutes away from the U of U so I'd be damned if I was going to be sent home after driving all the way up there, especially in the middle of the night. So, naturally, I started doing laundry. Sitting on our bean bag chair helped...a little. I waited until my contractions got down to 3 minutes and called again. The PA said that I could come in and if I wasn't far enough along they could at least give me pain meds, but she encouraged me to wait until my contractions were two minutes apart. I went upstairs and tried to get some sleep. I had that dumb contraction timer on my phone and I was so tired I started falling asleep between contractions, which were about 3-4 minutes apart. All of a sudden my contractions must have gotten bored and they decided to get irregular and I was waiting 6-8 minutes in between contractions, but I couldn't handle those dang contractions any longer. I woke j.rue up in the grouchiest state (me, not him) and told him that he was driving me to the hospital to get pain meds, and probably nothing more. It was 2 a.m. how cliche.

The roads were deserted and I was grouchy as can be. I wanted j.rue to talk to me, but not about stupid things. I thought women who gave birth naturally were stupid (I REALLY DON'T THINK THIS, I PROMISE). I thought that it was stupid that the U was so far away. It was also stupid that we had to drive anywhere at 2 a.m. when j.rue would have to go to work in the morning. We pulled into the lot and I waddled/limped into the hospital. The super nice security guard offered me a wheelchair (which I declined because...? Ugh, so dumb when I'm in pain) and took us up to labor and delivery.

We were then greeted by the sweetest PA who promptly got me situated and checked. I was holding my breath and telling her that I was sorry for wasting her time. I really just wanted the pain meds so I could get some sleep. She popped her head up (from you know where) and exclaimed that I was at a 5! I broke down in tears. She looked at me flabbergasted. She told me that it meant I could stay, I just had to be at a 4. I replied saying that I knew, I was just SO happy I didn't have to drive all the way home. She quickly gave me my IV, told me that it would hurt much more than my epidural that I was about to get and sent me on my way.

I had a lovely labor and delivery nurse. She promply gave me pain meds because I had to wait about 30 minutes for my epidural. Of course they started asking me important questions AFTER those loopy pain meds. Remember how I am on laughing gas? Well, this wasn't as bad, but kind of close. My resident (yes you read that right RESIDENT) finally arrived to give me my epidural . It took him 3 times and 30 minutes to get that sucker in. You know how my PA told me that the IV would hurt way worse. No. Just no. The nasty pressure is indescribable and feeling blood run down my back. Yes. Plus, he didn't have a single shred of humor, which is a huge problem for me because I say stupid things when I'm nervous. It's my coping mechanism. He didn't find me entertaining, not one bit.

Once that joyful task had been completed several nurses started the prep. I was wondering when they were going to break my water, but I wasn't going to ask. I'd heard that a tool, which closely resembles a crocheting needle was used, so you know. that didn't sound scary

The nurses were having a hard time keeping track of Eleanor's heart beat so they had me put on an oxygen mask, I'm still not totally sure why, but I'm not one to ask questions. Okay I am, but really, I was in labor. The plastic smell of the mask made me super nauseated. I politely asked for a bowl, but I kind of learned that you can't ask for things politely, you must ask for them urgently. Luckily, I figured that out right in time for them to get a bowl beneath my mouth. At the same time I was throwing up a felt a huge gush of water. I was SO relieved! I wouldn't have to go one of one with that crochet needle at all! One of the nurses checked and she then informed that that I had actually peed my pants, but probably in more medical terms, and that I hadn't broken my water. Nuts. So I had my water broken, it wasn't so  bad really. I actually just didn't look.

Rule numero uno whilst giving birth. Release yourself of any and all expectations of obtaining any pride. It will briskly be stripped from you, I promise.

Right after this second joyous event my mom and brother arrived. While they watched movies and ate snacks, I ate ice chips and tried to ignore the fact that my epidural was starting to ware off on one side. Since the nurses couldn't keep track of Ellie's heart beat I was told to lay on my left side and that I couldn't move to any other position. You better believe that I pushed that epidural button every 10 minutes on the dot.

(pushing the button)

Around 7 am they were still having a hard time keeping track of little Ellie's heartbeat so they had to put one of those heart rate monitors in her head...while she was still inside. I still shudder thinking about it. I didn't even know they could do things like that. Around 8:00 the nurses sent my mom and brother to get lunch. J.rue almost went, but decided that I shouldn't be left to my own devices, thank goodness!

Right after they exited to breakfast the nurses started prepping me for practice pushes. I honestly don't think there was a time when I felt dumber. They would tell me to push and I seriously could not tell if I was or not. I know this all could have been avoided, but seriously. No. So for the next couple minutes I "tried" pushing. All of a sudden my doctor arrived and said I was having a baby...now. I kept saying that  he was mistaken. I was actually doing to start pushing around 9, because it makes sense to argue with your doc. He simply responded with, no you're having this baby now and these forceps are going to help. Then walked in the two biggest sizes of salad tongs that I've ever seen in my life. Shudder. I don't even know which size they used, and I'm completely fine with that.

I started pushing (I think) while frantically asking the nurses to page my mom. I pushed 3 times in two rounds and am pretty sure that very little, if any, progress was made. Finally my mom showed up so I had j.rue on one side and my mom on the other, I was feeling pretty okay about everything. Thank goodness because all of a sudden there were about 15 people squished around me and my doc said that if I didn't get her out this round of pushes, we'd be having a c-section. I've never tried to do anything so hard in my life. I pushed with all my guts and I felt a release of pressure and our Eleanor was here at 8:30, 15 minutes after I started pushing. Yikes!

They cleaned her up and I had her on my chest in seconds. I couldn't believe she was here! I kept asking if she was cute (I already knew she was) and saying that "I have a baby!" but I was too tired and too scared to move her body to get a good look at her. My mom was crying and I'm pretty sure j.rue got a little teary eyed as well.  I finally got my hands on my phone and saw the most angelic little face as wide awake as could be. I then checked for a butt chin and hair. She had both and I was more than okay with that.

Oh and while all of this was going on they stitched me up. It took them LONGER to stitch me up than it did to push her out. Can you guess how my recovery went? Let's just say that when the epidural wore off the first words out of my mouth were "people willingly do this twice?"

Of course I would do it again a million times just to get my sweet Ellie again, it just took a month or four to get to that conclusion.

The rest of my hospital stay was stressful and painful, thank goodness for percocet and stool softeners (yes I said it, if you want, I'll shout it from the roof tops!) It wasn't all bad though. I had the best nurses a girl could as for, was spoiled with visits, and got to snuggle my baby cakes all the live long day. I chose to send her away to the nursery both nights and I felt terrible at first, but then I got to sleep, so I got over it pretty quickly. The night nurse did mention that Ellie was already a leader. She had a lovely soprano voice that started a chorus of soprano voices at 3 am. That's my girl. The only thing I regret is that I don't have a picture of the 3 of us that I can find ANYWHERE! I hated how I looked so that was probably a factor, but I'm not missing out on that next time. J.rue was there for every second and was and still continues to be the most patient, loving, and supportive husband and daddy every. Ellie and I couldn't have lucked out more and we thank our Heavenly Father for him every day.

Maybe I'll write about my recovery sometime, but it was hard and it was long, and I don't want to paint giving birth in a negative light. But I did learn that every recovery is different and if you're in pain it's legitimate even if the girl next to you was running errands two days later. Oh how I hope for a recovery that quickly next time around.

Anyway, that's how our sweet Eleanor came to be and it makes my heart flutter just reliving it while writing this post. I've never loved anyone the way I love her and I feel so blessed that she's mine, and forever at that.

1 comment:

  1. I adore the picture of you and Ellie where you are just holding her. I feel like I am watching a private piece of heaven. (not that you felt heavenly mind you) Loved the story. Thanks for sharing.