Conversation with myself - "What was that? What time is it? Ok, make a note. Will another one come? Wait, what was that? Was that another one? Should I say something? What else do I need to do? Should I shower? What time is it again? How long was that? Should I track this?"........(repeat over and over and over every day for like one month).
There is nothing like having ZERO control over a situation to drive a control freak straight cray. I thought for sure my third pregnancy with my fourth baby would be shorter than the rest, so you know maybe 38.5 weeks. I figured my iron cervix had loosened a bit over these four years and would be ready to call it quits a bit before 40 weeks. Boy, was I wrong. 39 weeks came...and went. Then 40, then 41. Dear Lord, this had to end at some point right?!
Then, finally, it happened. The first REAL wave of surges. I was elated! This was IT!!!! My sweet Richie was ready to get this VBAC party started and let me experience one of my favorite things, an unmedicated, vaginal birth.
I knew this birth would most likely also be a quick one, (my last son was also a VBAC taking only four short hours) so my husband and I took every precaution to make sure that we did not repeat the mayhem that we had with our last baby practically flying out. After a few hours, we made the call to head in to the hospital and...a few hours later...were sent home due to stalled labor. Nooooooooooooo!
My doctor told me that it would most likely kick up again that evening...I tried to replace my rage with excitement.
Thankfully, he was right and surges started again that evening. Soon they got much stronger and my usual barf party kicked in. It was time to head out!
We made it to the hospital an hour later and I was at 4 cm. Surges continued to be fast and hard and I welcomed them with a (visualized) opening cervix and deep breaths. I had my doula massage the pains caused by back labor with each wave and kept telling myself, "You got this, this is what you've been waiting for, Richie, Mommy is here, let's do this".
An hour later I felt that wonderful, amazing, highlight of my labor- the urge to push. I looked at the nurse and told her it was go time, he was coming. Sho 'nuff I was at 9cm and started to breathe my baby down and out with the force only a "I'm so done being pregnant" mommy can muster.
While some may fear/dread this pat of their birth experience, as a fitness fanatic I get pumped AF. Cardio, abs, lower body, I mean it is really a total body workout. And trust, it is one that I had missed desperately in the last stages of pregnancy.
It took an hour of pushing and while it was unlike anything my previous experience (it only took me two good pushes with my last guy), it was hard core and I loved it. My Richie was a bit twisted and I had one centimeter of sassy cervix that just didn't want to budge. With the help of my husband, doula, phenomenal doctor, nurse, baby and body we all worked together and out my sweet guy came.
The magic had happened and I was riding high on a wave of empowerment and love. There was nothing my body couldn't do. I was Mommy Warrior Princess and the world better watch out. I was ready to jump out of bed, sing from the rooftops, "I DID IT AGAIN!!!!"
All you haters who fear the almighty VBAC, all you medical professionals that doubt the power of a women's body, take THAT!! Ka-POW!
My recovery (if you can call it that) was just as blissful as I remembered the last time. No pain, no discomfort, just absolute elation and pride. I had a healthy, beautiful baby boy to add to my pack and a overflowing heart.
One month later my baby is growing so much each day and amongst all the chaos of four little boys under five I try to press pause as much as possible and enjoy every moment.
From now on I continue to morph back to my old self, and focus on raising another kind, compassionate young gentleman. One who lifts up others, makes good choices and of course...loves his mommy!