Jennifer's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 12/13/04 -------------------- 9/25/04 8/9/04 7/27/04 7/5/04 6/21/04 6/13/04 5/26/04 5/14/04 5/2/04 4/22/04 4/15/04 4/5/04 2/29/04 2/12/04 1/28/04 12/14/03 12/13/03 12/5/03 11/23/03 11/8/03 10/21/03 10/17/03 10/11/03 10/7/03 9/30/03 9/18/03 9/10/03 9/2/03 8/26/03 8/22/03 7/25/03 7/18/03 7/11/03 1/1/01 -------------------- Jennifer's Introduction

January 28, 2004

January 28, 2004

Collin - 2 ½ years old.
Ireland - 6 weeks old.



Saturday, December 13th, 2003


5:15pm
Woke from nap feeling small gush of discharge. Feeling very comfortable.

6:15pm
Got out of bed after an hour of inconsistent cramping and one more small gush of fluid. Went into the bathroom to see if the fluid was just discharge or actually my water breaking. Put on makeup and brushed hair. Still very comfortable and not even sure I was have contractions.

6:45pm
Woke up Mark & told him I thought I was having contractions every 10 minutes. Still very comfortable.

7:10pm
Shawn called to find out if Mark was going to make it to the show. I told him I thought I was in labor and since I sounded so calm he thought I was joking. Getting a little uncomfortable yet things were still very controllable. So controllable that I told Mark to go play his show and that I would call him when things picked up.

8:00pm
Mark reluctantly left. At this time I was becoming pretty uncomfortable and having some strong contractions. I had to moan through several of them but I was pretty sure that I would labor for along time yet. Since I had a hard time concentrating on the clock during a contraction, I guessed them to be approximately 8-10 minutes apart still.

Called my doula, Rachel, to let her know that I was definitely in labor and that contractions were approx. 10 minute’s apart. She said that she would come as soon as I wanted. I told her that I was fine for now. She said to try to wait to go to the hospital until contractions were at least 5 minutes apart for an hour, but that 4 minutes apart was better.

8:10pm
Called Aunt Chris & told her I was in labor. Had a contraction while I was on the phone with her, put the phone down and moaned through it.

Called Khristina to tell her I was in labor. While on the phone with her I had two contractions that I could easily moan through. I told her I thought they were about 6-8 minutes apart and she informed me that she was timing them while on the phone and that they were only 3 minutes apart. I was getting more uncomfortable and the contractions were getting very strong.

8:30pm
Took shower to see if it would relieve my pain/cramping. It relaxed me but did nothing for the intense contractions that were picking up and coming on strong!

9:00pm
Called doula again, this time in tears, telling her I was at that point that I felt I was letting the contractions get the best of me. I told her I felt out of control. She said that her husband was 20 minutes away and that as soon as he walked into the door she was leaving to come to my house. After we hung up and I had several more intense contractions. I realized that I couldn’t possibly wait for her. I called her back and told her that I needed her to just meet us at the hospital. I told her I felt frantic.

9:15pm
Called Mark to come home
Called MIL to come over

9:20pm
Rachel called back and asked if I wanted her to stay on the phone with me until Mark (or her own husband) got home. I told her that I wanted to just moan and concentrate, not be on the phone. She told me she would see me at the hospital.

9:45pm
Mark & MIL showed up at the same time. I was moaning so loudly with each contraction and feeling the baby move down. Contractions were about 1 minute apart and I thought I would never make it to the hospital. All I kept thinking was how I needed pain relief and how I could never do this without drugs! I was feeling scared and out of control of my own body.

10:00pm
Left for the hospital. The car ride there was excruciating. Every bump in the road felt like someone was twisting my uterus through a hand-cranking washing machine.

10:35pm
Arrived at hospital and both doulas, Rachel and Toni, were waiting for me in the lobby. The minute I saw them, I had a renewed sense of strength. I was immediately checked and at 7cm’s. My OB was called in.

11:42pm
Ireland was born after three pushes!

*********************************************

Several days prior to Ireland’s birth, I was having very painful cramping. It pretty much felt like the worse period cramps ever. It was nothing I couldn’t handle, in fact, I pretty much got used to the pain but to someone who has a low pain tolerance, I could see this being a problem. I tried not to look at it as pain, but as something that my body was doing to help bring my baby into the right position for birth. At my last weekly OB appointment, on Wednesday, December 10th, I was 3-4cm’s dilated and 50% effaced so I knew that the cramping was a good sign. Two days prior to her birth, Thursday, December 11th, I began having lots of mucus-y, blood-tinged discharge which was also a good sign.

On Saturday, December 13th, at 4:00pm, Collin and laid down in our bed for an afternoon nap. We cuddled up and snoozed off fast. Mark was in the living room, on the sofa, watching TV and nodding off himself. He had a show to play that night so he was trying to sneak in a few winks. Around 5:15pm, I awoke to a small gush of liquid between my legs. It wasn’t a burst of anything or seem to be a large amount so I was pretty sure it was more discharge. In the back of my mind, I was sort of wondering if it were possibly my water breaking, but didn’t want to get my hopes up. I lay in bed for several more minutes, paying close attention to my body for signs of labor. The cramping was still present, but there was something a little different about it all. I would have an intense clamping down feeling, low and deep, right above my pubic bone. It didn’t feel anything like a contraction so I didn’t even think that it could mean labor, but just in case, I did look at my clock to see if there was any consistency to them. I stared at my alarm clock, not peeling my eyes off for a second so I could see exactly when the next cramping feeling came on. It was another 15 minutes before I felt the next one. Then another came about 15 minutes after that so I shot up out of bed. I was prepared to start bellowing through the house happily announcing I was in labor when the cramping just stopped. I must have sat there for several minutes, questioning everything I was feeling and going back and forth with myself on whether I was having contractions or not. I decided it was a fluke and lay back in bed. I tried to fall back to sleep but I was too keyed up. Several minutes past and I felt the cramping sensation come back. It was about 6:15pm now and I couldn’t lie still anymore. I got up and used the toilet so I could once and for all see if my water had broken or if I was just having more discharge. I used the bathroom and pretty much knew it was just discharge. There was lots of it but no steady stream of anything was coming out so I knew it wasn’t my water. With Collin, my water broke, so I definitely knew what that felt like. I put on a pad and got cleaned up. Then I figured that, just for the heck of it, I’d brush my teeth, put on a face of makeup and fix my hair, mainly to get my mind off things. You know, a girl wants to look pretty when she’s having a baby, right? I should have remembered and known better - as if hair and makeup are what a laboring woman thinks about.

Collin was still sleeping so I walked out into the dark living room to find a sleeping husband on the sofa. I sat in the Lazy Boy for a few minutes and stared at the living room clock debating on whether I should wake Mark up or not. My cramping was coming back at intervals of 10 minutes so I really started to think labor was starting. I was very comfortable and I didn’t want to panic Mark so I didn’t say anything to him just yet. It was now about 6:45pm and Collin woke up and came out. A few minutes later Mark woke up. I asked if he (Mark) were really awake (so I could go ahead and let him know, I was too excited NOT to say anything) and he was pretty grumpy. I remember saying, ‘Sheesh! You’re crabby! I wanted to tell you that I pretty sure I’m having contractions every 10 minutes.” At that moment it was if he got slapped with the happy stick. He sat up, looked at me and very sweetly said, “oh really!” Yes, really. He just sort of looked at me for a few minutes and we told Collin what was going on and that he would be able to finally meet his baby sister soon. We then talked about what we should do in terms of Mark staying home or him going to play his show. Mark kept insisting that he should stay home and I kept telling him it was okay to leave. I told him that I would probably labor for along time tonight and that he should go ahead and get ready to play the show. Besides, I had access to my doulas and knew I could always call them to come over and help me, if needed.

Between 6:45pm and 7:10pm, I walked nervously around the house feeling contractions every 10 minutes and doing light house cleaning. I straightened up the living room, vacuumed and put stray dishes in the sink. I was very comfortable, still in a great mood and not feeling much pain at all. I didn’t even have to do anything, yet, to get through a contraction. They would come and go without much discomfort. Mark took Collin downstairs with him to check email and to do a few things on the computer before having to shower and change.

At 7:10pm, Mark’s friend, Shawn (guitar player in band), called to see how things were going and if Mark was going to make it to the show. I told him that I was pretty sure I was in labor and having contractions every 10 minutes. I said that I thought Mark would still make it because I wasn’t in any discomfort and would probably labor most of the night anyway. He thought I was kidding with him and trying to pull off a joke. I guess he thought I should have sounded more like what he pictured a woman in labor to sound like. Moaning, screaming, crying - if only I would have known what my very near future held, I would have told him to wait two hours for all that! I hollered down to Mark that he had a phone call and he and Collin came back upstairs.

Several minutes later, about 7:30pm, Mark loaded up the car with his basses, took a shower and got dressed. This is when my contractions started picking up and becoming uncomfortable. I had two pretty intense contractions while Mark was in the shower and had to loudly moan through them. I found that resting my upper body over the sofa cushions while gently rocking back and forth on my knees was a really comfortable position to be while having a contraction. When one came on, I’d lay my face down on the cushion, moan through it and sway back and forth. I was still relatively comfortable and still very excited. I had been avoiding actually timing my contractions because I mainly wanted to rely on and listen to my own body to let me know when things were becoming more intense, not the clock. At one point I tried to time my contractions with Mark’s watch but became quickly frustrated because I couldn’t get the stopwatch feature to work properly and I was already in the middle of a intense contraction. At one point I threw the watch on the couch and said, “Fuck this!” Listening to my own body proved to be much more effective then trying to keep track of the time. But if we had timed them, we would have realized that Mark probably should have never left and that things were going to get intense, fast. Silly us!

I was still very calm despite a few extreme contractions. I still, even now, figured I’d labor like this all night. I wasn’t concerned or worried about things picking up too fast or needing someone with me. Collin was occupied with a good TV show and some dinner and I felt prepared to do this for several more hours. I had explained to Collin what was going on and why I was moaning so he didn’t seem alarmed or upset when I got loud.

8:00pm, Mark left. He didn’t want to leave and wanted to stay with me and Collin but I assured him that things could go on until the wee hours of the morning and that I was fine. I told him that I would call him as soon as I felt I needed him, no questions asked. He kissed me goodbye and then told Collin to be good. He explained to Collin that he needed to help mommy by being a good boy and playing quietly with his toys. He kissed Collin and again, told me to call him ASAP when I wanted him to come home. I could see the worry on his face but he went ahead and, at my request, left.

As soon as Mark drove off, I called my doula, Rachel, and told her that I was definitely in labor and that I was pretty sure contractions were coming every 10 minutes. She asked me if I wanted her to come over and I told her that I was fine for now, just laboring at home and staying calm. We both agreed that a good time to go to the hospital would be when my contractions were at least every 5 minutes apart for more than an hour. She even said that every 4 minutes would be better if I wanted to avoid a long labor at the hospital. She told me that she would get things squared away at her house (she has four children) and to call her just as soon as I felt the need to have her, whether that meant at our home or at the hospital.

A few minutes later, about 8:10pm, I called my Aunt Chris and told her that I was in labor. She was very excited and asking me questions about my contractions. I had one while on the phone with her and had to put the phone down and moan my way though it. I told her that I needed to get off the phone so that I could concentrate. I told her we’d keep her posted and would call when the baby was born.

I quickly called my best friend, Khristina to also let her know I was in labor. She knew before I even said anything and answered the phone with, “Is she coming?!” I spoke to her for a few minutes and she almost flipped when I told her it was just Collin and I at home and that I had sent Mark out to play. While on the phone with her, I had two intense contractions and I had to put the phone down and moan my way though again. When I got back on, she asked me how far apart they were and I told her I thought they were still at least 6-8 minutes apart. She laughed and informed me that she timed them while on the phone and that they were only 3 minutes apart. I was growing increasingly uncomfortable and told her I needed to get off the phone. She told me that I had better call Mark and that she wanted to be called as soon as Ireland was born.

I felt a bit odd, being alone, in labor with just Collin and myself at the house. In one sense it was nice to be alone with my little boy, just the two of us, sneaking in a few last precious moments before our little girl entered the world. It felt nice being able to moan as loud as I wanted and be able to get into any position my body felt in need of. I didn’t have to worry about anyone looking at me or anyone saying anything to me and I was fully able to tune into my body, trust it and relax. In another sense it was almost spooky, being alone, if that makes any sense. Here I was, laboring at home, thinking about my body and my baby, yet at the same time making sure that Collin was okay. It was a huge responsibility. He was doing great, even watching me in pain. He was sweet, stroking my arm, asking me if I was okay. I would reassure him that mommy was fine and that this is what I had to do to bring the baby out. He was in a pretty funny mood and able to laugh and stay calm. I attributed this to me staying calm myself and not losing any self-control. Collin flung himself on the couch, clutched his own tummy and yelled, “Ooooh! My baby is coming, my baby is coming!” I laughed at him and told him how hilarious he was. In between contractions, I’d stroke Collins hair and tell him how much I loved him and how proud I was of him being such a good boy.

Around 8:30pm, I decided to get into the shower to see if the hot water would relax me a bit more. My contractions were really starting to get quite painful and I felt like they weren’t giving me enough of a break to stay calm. I told Collin that mommy would be in the shower and that I’d still be moaning loudly but not to worry. The shower felt nice but did nothing for my pain. I quickly realized that standing up during a contraction HURT and that I needed to get out fast and get back into my comfortable position of rocking over the couch cushions. I had several more contractions while trying to get out and dry off and get dressed. I started feeling out of control since I was trying to do other things like get dressed and answer Collins questions. He was being a wonderful little boy but he was still a child. He needed things, wanted to talk to me and wanted me to fix him certain snacks and play with his toys. I knew that I needed to call Mark to come home. I popped some popcorn for Collin and asked him to please watch TV or play quietly for a while until I could call Gran over to watch him.

It was now 9:00pm and several more contractions hit me and I was beginning to panic. I was in pain and starting to cry because I was getting scared that I was alone. All this led to me tensing up and not being able to get a handle on my contractions. I was still loudly moaning through each one but all I could think about was getting some pain relief. I called my doula and told her I needed her now and that I was starting to lose control and get frantic. She told me that her husband was 20 minutes from home and that she would leave just as soon as he walked in the door. I hung up with her and realized that it would be at least 40 minutes before she could make it to our house. That just sounded horrible to me and I knew I couldn’t wait that long. I called her back and told her to forget coming to our house, to meet us at the hospital.

At 9:15pm, I called Mark and told him I needed him to come home now and to hurry. All I kept thinking was how I needed to get to the hospital and get the epidural. I wanted a natural, unmedicated vaginal birth but at this point, I wanted pain relief more. As Collin sat and watched me fall apart, he grew more concerned and quieter.

I called my MIL (Gran) and told her I would need her soon. She said it sounded like I needed her now and she told me she was leaving her house immediately.

At 9:20pm, Rachel called me back and asked me if I wanted her to stay on the phone with me until Mark got home. I told her that I would do better being off the phone and able to moan. I can’t explain what moaning did for me but it was something so powerful. I once tried to breath, like they teach you in Lamaze, and that did nothing, in fact, it seemed to aggravate me more and make the pain worse. But moaning did wonders. It wasn’t just your run of the mill moan. It was deep, animalistic and Earth shaking. Moaning took me into my own body and made me feel connected and made the pain feel manageable. It was as if the sounds were the pain, leaving my womb and escaping through my mouth and throat. I could hear the pitch changing right along with the change of the contraction. It would start out guttural and slow then it would work its way deeper and louder and longer as my throat vibrated as the contraction reached it’s peak. It felt so good as if it were pain relief itself. It was during the times where I couldn’t get a grasp on my moaning that I felt out of power. Once I regained my sense of being and went back into my mind and body, I felt in control again. I had to keep focusing on the sounds and vibrations to keep things controllable.

I swore it took an hour for Mark to get home, I kept wondering how long it had been because it seemed like time was dragging. It was 9:45pm when Mark and his mom came though the door. It worked out perfect in that they both drove up to the house at the exact same time. This is when Collin fell to pieces. He had been so strong and such a trooper all the time we were alone and I was laboring. He had sat and listen to me moan and weep and beg for Mark to hurry up. As soon as he saw daddy walk through the door he bursts into tears and started to panic. It also didn’t help that my MIL was right behind Mark, making Collin think that something was really wrong. I was in a world all my own so I couldn’t even say anything or do anything for my little boy. I heard Mark tell Collin everything was okay. By this time I was in so much pain that I had my mind made up to get the epidural. I told Mark that I was worried it would be too late to get it because I knew they’d have to run an IV on me first and a bag of fluids before administering the epidural itself. He told me not to worry and that I would get pain relief as soon as we got to the hospital. He quickly ran around the house and grabbed our bags, pillows and personal things. Mark’s mom came over and rubbed my back telling me it wouldn’t be long now. It really surprised me because I’ve never seen her act maternal, even towards her own sons, yet she was rubbing my back and talking to me in a calming soothing voice. As much as I didn’t want to hear her talk (I didn’t really want to hear anyone talk at this point because it was interfering with my concentration) she squeezed in something that actually gave me strength. She said that on the way over, the car in front of her had a vanity license plate. She looked to see what the plate said and in bold letters it said, “TANYA.” For those that are unaware of my past, Tanya was my mother’s name. She passed away on August 11, 2001, from cancer when Collin was just 6-weeks old. Hearing that story made me remember how much my mom was there with me during this time.

Since Mark’s niece and nephew always stay Saturday nights at MIL’s house, so she can take them to church on Sundays, they were with her on this night. Erin (12) and Connor (9) came into the house and helped get Collin calmed down by playing with him. I was actually glad that they were there to help Collin keep his mind off me. MIL asked Erin to come over and rub my back. Mark changed Collin and got him dressed for bed. He then told MIL to let him stay up as long as he wanted, let him eat whatever he wanted and let him basically do whatever he wanted - Anything to keep him happy since neither Mark nor I would be home.

Around 10:00pm, the car was loaded and we were ready to head out. I tried to get up but the contractions were coming on so strong and so fast. They were back to back and I heard my MIL say, “Oh boy! Sounds like the baby is going to be here soon.” I heard worry in her voice. Mark helped me up, helped me with my shoes and coat. I bent down, kissed Collin and told him I loved him then we were off.

It was so freezing cold out. It seemed to make me feel worse because the cold made me shiver and that put tension in my body. I was trying to walk down the stairs in the freezing wind while in so much pain. I needed to stop half way down and moan my way through a contraction. Apart of me wondered if the neighbors would hear me but the other half didn’t care. Of course Mark had no way of knowing what I was really going through and what I was feeling, so he was grabbing my arm gently and telling me to hurry to the warm car where I could sit. I tried explaining to him that hurrying wasn’t going to help while I was right in the middle of a contraction. Once it passed, then I could get a handle on myself and then I could hurry, but doing anything during a contraction just wasn’t going to happen. We got into the car and Mark kicked it into high gear and we hoped onto the Interstate for the 25-minute trip to the hospital. I’d have to say, the trip in the car was nothing short of excruciating. Even though Mark was trying his best to drive smoothly, every little bump in the road felt as if my uterus was being torn apart. The turns, the bumps, the changing of lanes, me having to sit upright, it was all torture. Even me laying the seat all the way back, didn’t help. Someone cut us off on the Interstate and Mark had to swerve over into another lane. I thought I would shoot through the roof with pain. I wasn’t getting a break in between contractions and that’s when I could hear a bit of concern in Mark’s voice. He coolly said, “Wow, those contractions are sure coming fast, aren’t they?” He timed them and they were 1-minute apart and lasting a full minute, sometimes longer. All I wanted to do was get back into my crouching position. We drove and drove and drove and I had contraction after contraction after contraction. Each one took me deeper and deeper within my body. I was moaning so loudly and so strongly that the sound took over me and took me to a place deep, deep into an unknown, unvisited place within the very depths of my essence that I never knew existed. I heard nothing but the moaning and I felt nothing but the contraction. It was just my body floating around in free space. I remember apologizing to Mark for being so loud. He told me that I didn’t sound very loud and that the sounds weren’t annoying but actually quite beautiful and musical. Even though the pain was sharp and piercing at times, there were also times where I welcomed the contraction because it brought me into that place where I could melt into nothingness. The actual painful part of it wasn’t the peak of a contraction, but the very beginning when one started up.

We pulled up to the hospital and got out. There were a few people going in or coming out. Of course I had a few contractions so I was the center of everyone’s attention. One guy was nice enough to let us know that the main entrance was locked and that we’d have to go in through Emergency, which was around the corner. I remember mark saying, “Come on, it’s just around the corner.” I almost crumbled when I heard that. Around the corner meant more walking, more standing, more laboring in the cold wind. Mark said he would run and get me a wheel chair but I didn’t want him to leave my side for even a second so I said that I’d prefer just to walk there. We made it to the automatic doors when someone brought us a wheelchair. The lady just kept looking at us, expecting me to sit down immediately. It was obvious, through my ear shattering moaning that I was having a contraction and couldn’t sit. The lady prompted Mark a few times to get me to sit and all Mark could say was, ‘It’s going to be a few minutes before she can move.” Finally the contraction was over, I went to go sit down, but the footrests were down, preventing me from getting into the chair. At that moment, another contraction hit and it really irritated the hell out of me that I couldn’t sit down. I frantically yelled, “forget it” and went dragging into the ER. A woman from the triage came running out and got a wheelchair ready for me. She told us to go directly up to Labor and Delivery and that she would call and let them know we were on our way. As soon as we turned the corner to get into the elevator my contraction lifted and I felt in good spirits again. We got into the elevator and took it to the 8th floor. I had a contraction in the elevator so it was a good thing it was just us in there. I’m afraid I would have freaked anyone out who might have been in there with us. The elevator doors opened and right in front of me there sat my two doulas, Rachel and Toni, with bags, camcorder, camera, supplies and smiles waiting. They both looked a little relieved because they had started to wonder if I was having the baby in the car. They had been there for a while because Rachel ended up not waiting for her husband to get home. She said that she could hear the anxiety in my voice and knew things would happen fast so she ran and got her grandmother to watch her kids until her husband got home.

I quickly signed a couple hospital forms, Mark gave the nurses our insurance card and we were wheeled into our room. Contractions were still a minute apart, possibly less and the nurses all came in and started getting things set up. I was given a gown and told to go into the bathroom to undress so they could get a strip done to make sure the baby was okay. I stood up and felt a huge gush of liquid and was positive my water just broke. Rachel accompanied me into the bathroom and helped me undress and get into my gown while Toni loaded up the camera and started snapping away. I got back to the bed and lay down. Aside from driving along a bumpy road in labor, lying flat on your back while in hard labor is a close tie for most painful horrendous position your could be in. I remember I kept asking (begging) how long they needed me in this position because I had to sit upright, even if just a little. The nurse swiftly checked me and pronounced that I was a good 7cm, on my way to 8. She instructed the other nurse to call my OB in. The other nurses ran around the room and got equipment ready and wheeled in the labor cart. I was allowed to sit up while the nurse asked me question upon question and I grew even more irritated. Mark rubbed my back while Rachel put ice water to my lips so that I was drinking fluids and gave me a wet washcloth to suck on. Toni was still busy taking pictures and now getting the video camera set up. I was asked about pain relief and when I said I didn’t want anything, the nurse asked me if I knew that a shot of narcotic medicine was also available. I promptly and firmly stated that I knew things were available and I didn’t want anything. I told them that if I wanted something, I would ask. They never bothered me about it again and no one ever asked me if I wanted pain relief. In fact, they were very supportive and gave me lots of warm fuzzies after each contraction. My contractions were the strongest ever and I was beginning to shake and tremble. Rachel said it was a good sign and that I was in transition. A couple times I looked up and said, “I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t” and Rachel said, “But you ARE doing it.” That was enough to give me a little more strength. Another time I looked at Rachel and said, “I just don’t know how you and Toni did this,” to which she said, “Look at you, YOU’RE doing it too!” Those were the only two times I remember not having enough trust in my body. At that point I went into my deep place and stayed there until Ireland was born. I hardly heard anything and didn’t care to even open my eyes. I felt each contraction deep within my womb and concentrated on the moaning and on the pressure. The feeling that overcame me is so indescribable. It was as if I was given a gift. I felt so in tune with my body; so proud of what I was doing and everything I was feeling. I knew I was going to birth this baby unmedicated and it gave me great strength. I felt so womanly so united with the Earth and of all women who’ve given birth in this manor. The only thing that was going though my head were images of laboring woman. They weren’t images of woman in hospital gowns or on operating tables. They were images of woman in their beauty, laboring and birthing in the raw sense. As crazy as this sounds, I even thought about Jeanette. Long ago, I thought I’d seen a photo of her laboring in the doorway of her house, and this image crossed my mind a couple of times. It turns out she never did labor in a doorway at her house but at least whatever it was that was crossing my mind, helped me in my own way. Just the thought of other women laboring, listening to their bodies, trusting themselves, pushing those beautiful babies out, all doing and have done the exact same thing I was doing at the time, gave me incredible power and a feeling I cannot put into words. One of the few times I did open my eyes, I looked over at the monitor to look at my contractions on paper and looked up to see my OB smiling next to my bed. She had been standing there during one of my contractions and she happily said that she was enjoying the music of my moans. She already had her scrubs on and asked if I was ready. She quickly checked me in between a contraction and said that I was at 9 with a bulging bag of water and that it shouldn’t be long. She then told me that if I permitted her to break my bag of water, that she was positive I would have the baby almost immediately. Since I didn’t want to have any more contractions I wanted this beautiful baby out NOW, I told her to do it! I scooted down and she popped my bag and that next contraction, which I was already starting to get while she was still breaking my water, went from contraction to forceful pushing immediately. The pushing was so incredibly intense, so powerful, and so awesome. My body fully took over and there I was, birthing our baby girl. The very next contraction I pushed and Ireland’s head started crowning. The burn I felt was beyond description, like I was literally on fire. I didn’t want to push because of the burn, but I did because I knew that it was an end to the pain. Besides, I honestly had no control, my body was pushing and it felt like I would almost burst open. I remember hearing Mark say, “Oh my gosh, here she comes,” and hearing my doula, Rachel, whisper for me to slow down so that I wouldn’t tear. I couldn’t slow down and during that same push; Ireland’s head was out. My third push, I pushed the baby all the way out and Miss. Ireland Kira-Rose was born. What a marvelous and accomplished feeling. I did it! I overcame my fears, doubts and my wonders to birth our daughter. I did something I always thought I had the power to do, but never really knew if I could do it. I just kept thinking in my head, “I did it! I did it! I did it!”

The first thing out of my mouth was, ‘It is a girl, right?” and everyone said, “YES!” My OB was cleaning her up and I could hear her crying. It was a beautiful sound. I couldn’t see her because of the way I was positioned and the paper was in the way but I could hear and it took everything within me to wait patiently to set eyes on her. I swear it took forever for them to hand her over. I couldn’t wait to get my arms wrapped around my angel. I couldn’t wait to see what and who she looked like, what she smelled like, and to kiss those plump cheeks. When my OB lifted her up and onto my chest I was speechless. She was the most beautiful precious little angel I had ever laid eyes on. She had dark wavy hair and beautiful blue eyes. She looked at me as if she already knew me. I was absolutely lost in her. I was so overwhelmed with feelings that I couldn’t speak or even cry for that matter. She was gorgeous and she was all mine. I loved her immediately just as I had loved Collin immediately. She looked up at me and it was then that our souls intertwined. We had a healthy baby girl. A girl…Collin’s little sister…we really had a daughter. The anticipation, the pain and hard times of the last 38 weeks, all the sickness, and the wondering -all were washed away with the beauty of her being. I looked over at Mark and tears where streaming down his face.

Since I had wanted the umbilical cord to stop pulsating before it was cut, my baby girl lay on my chest and tummy still fully connected to me. It was a magical feeling knowing we were still one, still connected, still belonging to one another. During this time the OB and nurses cleaned things up as Mark and I started to get to know our daughter. A few minutes later, the cord had stop pulsating so the doctor handed over the scissors and Mark cut the cord and I said, “Happy Birthday baby girl!” Soon after, I delivered the placenta and I was shown what it looked like. It was stunning. A gorgeous crimson red, large and fleshy. I took notice of all the veins and curves. It was Irelands home for 38 weeks and 1 day and I found it to be a beautiful site.

Since I pushed Ireland out so fast and so furious, I had a 2nd degree tear, just as I did with Collin. As my OB was prepping me for the stitches, I started asking and worrying about it hurting. I asked her numerous times if it was going to hurt. She sort of laughed at me and said, “yes! It’s a needle, it’s going to hurt but you just had a baby with no pain meds!” It was a pretty funny moment. I was given a shot of numbing med in my perineum and was stitched up.

Finally, I was asked if they could take the baby over to get weighed and since I had had her to myself for about 30 minutes, I told them it was fine. They weighed her; 8 pounds, 14.oz and measured her at 20 ¾” long. Wow, were we shocked. By the looks of her, I could have sworn she was smaller than Collin, but Collin weighed in at 8pds, 1oz at birth. I couldn’t believe how much bigger Ireland was. She was certainly healthy, with Apgars of 9, and we were proud. After she was dressed and diapered, they gave her back to me so that I could nurse. She was rooting like crazy and she latched on immediately and nursed for almost an hour. What a champ I had!

I told my delivery nurse that my after pains were agonizing and asked to have a Motrin. She brought one to me along with a snack of graham crackers and apple juice. She told me that other, stronger meds were available to me if the Motrin didn’t kick in within 15 minutes.

Rachel and Toni asked if I needed anything, fawned over Ireland, commented on my wonderful birth, and then left us to be alone. Mark held his precious daughter while the nurse helped me get up, urinate and get cleaned up. This is the part I dislike most. The blood/lochia draining out and the itchy stitches I could definitely do without. Of course most moms are pumped full of adrenaline so these things rarely matter, as did in my case. The nurse suggested that I take a shower and that they give Ireland her first bath. I declined both. It was late and all I wanted to do was settle in bed with my little angel. I refused her bath because her first temperatures were a little low and I wasn’t going to chance a bath dropping her temp more, risking them taking her from me. The delivery nurse seemed a bit peeved about this and her reasons being that now anyone who came in contact with Ireland would have to wear gloves because she still had blood and fluids on her. I simply shook my head and told them that she was my daughter and I was refusing a bath for her and that was the end of that conversation.

Around 1:30am we were moved down to our post-partumn room. After my fantastic nurse, Pat, came in to introduce herself, she ask me a few questions and then poured over Ireland to talk about how adorable she was. She asked if I had her by C-section because of how perfect her head looked. I then told her how fast my labor went and how her head didn’t have time to get all cone headed. She then, told us a few procedural things and then left us alone to enjoy our new baby. Mark went down to the snack room and loaded up a tray for me full of bagels, cream cheese, apple juice, cereal and milk. I gobbled it all down as if it were my last meal. Food and drink tasted to deliciously good. I was so thirsty I drank numerous glasses of ice water.

Mark got out all my things I needed - lotion, lip balm, photos of Collin and our phone card so I could have them all within arms reach. The minute I saw the photos of Collin, I started to cry. I missed my little boy so much and knew I would be away from him for the next two days. Because of the flu epidemic, they weren’t allowing anyone under the age of 18 up to the hospital so Collin wouldn’t even be allowed up to visit. Mark and I both decided it would be best for him (Mark) to go home so he would be there when Collin woke up in the morning. Mark snuggled with Ireland for a while and then around 3:30am, left for home. I cried when he left, not because I was sad, but because I really knew I’d miss both him and Collin while they were at home and I was in the hospital. The baby was sleeping all snug and I tried to relax and catch a few Z’s myself but that was impossible. I didn’t even feel tired. All I wanted to do was sit and stare at my beautiful daughter. For the next several hours that was exactly what I did. Around 4:30am, the nurse came in to check my uterus and check the baby. Ireland was pretty gurgle-y and “juicy” still from birth and she was having a little trouble breathing because of the liquid still in her throat and lungs. Since my nurse didn’t want to take her from me, she told me to keep an ear out and to call her if I hear anything that would alarm me. About 5 minutes after the nurse left, Ireland started gagging like a cat gags up a hairball. I quickly pushed my nurse button and had her come back in to check Ireland. Just to be on the safe side, they took her to the nursery and suctioned out her nose and put some saline water down her throat to clear the mucus out. Before they did that, I guess Ireland threw up a huge amount of blood and mucus and after that things were better. She had come out so fast during delivery, that her lungs just didn’t have time to compress and get all the juice out of her. During this time, I made a few phone calls and watched some news. This is when I saw they had found and captured Saddam Hussein. My eyes hardly left the television as I watched history unfold. I called Jennifer D. (MT writer) and woke her up to give her the good news. They were expecting my phone call but I still felt bad for waking her and her husband, Mark, up. It’s funny because when I called, her husband answered. It was obvious he had been asleep so I quickly explain that I was Jennifer and that Jennifer was expecting my phone call. He was extremely nice and said, “oh, yeah, wait just a second.” Then I heard him gently awaking Jennifer to tell him I was on the phone. I heard him say, “It’s Jennifer from Nebraska.” Just a few seconds later, a bright and cheery voice came on and said, “Hello!” It was great talking to Jennifer and she was so happy to hear from me. We chatted for several minutes about my labor and delivery and about her posting it on my board. She was a sweetie and was so happy for us.

Around 5:30am, the nurse came back in and told me that Ireland was content and sleeping but that they really wanted to keep her for a few more minutes to make sure she wasn’t going to throw up again or have any problems breathing. They asked me if it were okay to give her a bath to rouse her and get her awake to see if she would be having any more troubles. I gave them permission and tried to rest while she was away. I kept looking at the clock, wondering when they were going to bring my girl back to me. I missed her so much during those few hours. Finally around 7:00am, they brought her back and said everything was fine. She slept for a few hours and nursed a few more times. We snuggled and I lay staring at her all morning.

Once the shift change took place, the new nurses came in to introduce themselves, I got up and took a shower and then ate breakfast. Then I made several phone calls to let everyone know Ireland was born. Everyone was enormously happy and wanted all the details. I couldn’t help but brag that I actually had an unmedicated birth and that things went exactly how I had wanted them to. I was so darn freakin proud of myself that I wanted the world to know what I had accomplished. Everyone gave me kudos and said how strong I was for doing it the way I wanted.

As the sun rose outside my window, I cradled my angelic daughter in my arms, kissed her sweet round cheeks and vowed to never ever let go. Thanks Be To God!