In case you missed it on social media, let me introduce you to the newest member of our family, Theodore "Teddy" Starr Vaneria (more pics at the bottom of this post)! He was born on Friday, July 12th at 3:17am, weighing 8 lbs 10.3 oz. and measuring 21" tall. We brought him home on Sunday, July 14th and are all [obviously] COMPLETELY in love with him--especially his big sister, who cannot stop hugging and kissing him every chance she gets. As promised--and because I love reading other people's birth stories--I wanted to share Teddy's birth story before I start to forget all of the important details. As a quick summary for those who don't want to read the novel that follows, I'll just say that this birth was the exact opposite of Charlie Mae's traumatic birth (which you can read about here). I left this birth experience feeling strong, empowered, and healed, for which I am so grateful. You can read all of the nitty gritty details below: On the week of Teddy's birth, starting on Monday night, I started having period-like cramps. In fact, the cramping that I felt on Monday night was intense enough that I started to wonder if it was the beginning of labor; when I went into labor with Charlie Mae it started as cramps just like these, so I thought the same thing might be happening again with Teddy. But as the week wore on, the cramps continued with no sign of real labor, so I stopped reading into them. Then on Thursday, July 11th, Charlie Mae and I were out on our usual morning walk when I started to feel the cramps more intensely. We got home from our walk and went to the grocery store. As we walked around Whole Foods, I found myself slowing down and holding my belly with each cramp, and thought that perhaps I should start timing them when I got home, just to see if they were somewhat regular. When we got home around 11:30am, I used the app on my phone to time the cramps and sure enough, they were somewhat regular, each between about 5-10 mins apart. I kept paying attention to them throughout the next few hours and when Ben got home around 1:30, I told him that I might be in the beginning stages of labor. At these words he got bug-eyed and crazy looking (haha!), and I told him not to freak out (LOL) but to start preparing as if I was going to go into labor that night, just in case. Over the next few hours as Charlie Mae napped, we slowly packed up, cleared the beach stuff out of the trunk of my car, called Ben's mom to ask her to come sleep over, and prepared ourselves for a nighttime labor, just in case. The contractions continued to intensify and become more and more regular slowly throughout the day, and around 5pm we went for a family walk during which I started to feel them even more and had to start walking much slower than usual. We had dinner as a family (I ate a big meal in case it would be my last for a while), I put Charlie Mae to bed--bending over her crib to have a few intense contractions while I did so--and then Ben and I came to the conclusion that this was the real deal, so we should try and go to bed early in an attempt to get some rest before things got serious. I called my midwives and alerted my doula that I was in the beginning stages of labor and would probably be coming in sometime in the next 12-ish hours, and then we climbed into bed. But silly me! To think I could sleep through these contractions! By 9pm they were intense enough that with each contraction I had to jump out of bed, lean over the bed, move my hips, and moan. I was having back labor again (which happened during my entire labor with Charlie Mae) and the contractions were STRONG. I eventually moved into the nursery so Ben could sleep and labored on my own, each contraction more and more sensational than the last (and stronger than I thought they should be at this time). Around midnight I called the midwife again and asked her what she thought I should do about coming in. I was set on laboring at home as long as possible, but also had a 25-min drive to the hospital so was worried about having these intense contractions in the car and about making it in time. I should also pause to mention that I was positive for Group B Strep this time around. For those who don't know, GBS is a bacteria that can live in the vagina of 25% of healthy women and doesn't affect the woman, but can be transmitted to the baby during labor and if it is transmitted, can be dangerous. It's really not an issue if the mom gets intravenous antibiotics every 4 hours during labor, but it is important to get these antibiotics to protect your baby, so that made it important that I get to the hospital in time to get those antibiotics in me before I had the babe. SO...when I called my midwife and she could hear how intense things had gotten, she told me I should come in--especially because I needed to get the antibiotics. I woke Ben up, said let's hit the road, and we did. <OH MAN THAT DRIVE TO THE HOSPITAL!!!!> On the 25-minute drive, I had about 6 or 7 contractions. Taking them sitting down was miserable; we had all of the windows down and I was just throwing back my head and moaning like a wild animal. In fact, if there's one theme to Teddy's labor and birth, it's that I turned into the most raw, primal, animalistic version of a person that could ever exist--I was only tapped into the sensations in my body and didn't care AT ALL about anything else happening around me. We got to the hospital around 12:45 or 1am, walked to the maternity unit (I was offered a wheelchair but DID NOT want to sit again), and were immediately escorted into the tub room, which is the room I had requested when we called. My midwife came in and checked me and said I was at 5 or 6 cm dilated, so she was glad I came in. They hooked me up to a fetal monitoring device in order to get a "20 minute strip" on the baby's activity and started getting me set up for IV antibiotics while I continued to labor leaning over the bed. The next little while was spent trying my best to get through my crazy contractions while they did the intake basics and got what they needed from me. All I wanted to do was get in the tub and get some relief, but they had to fill it (which takes FOREVER) and get the stats on the babe in my belly, which was hard because I kept moving to get through the contractions, which would knock the monitor out of place, which would then lead to the nurse having to move it again to get a read and thus, made it take a lot longer. As I labored on the bed (now on hands and knees) waiting for the tub to fill and the fetal monitoring to be over, my water broke and things started to get even more intense. A little after this I was checked again and pronounced to be around 9cm (so those last 3-4 cm happened in just an hour or so), but I was not fully effaced yet (there was just one tiny part of my cervix left) so I was told we had a little more to go before I could start to push. This same thing happened when I was in labor with Charlie Mae and I was told to push too early, which is thought to be one of the main reasons that things started to go in the wrong direction, so I was very nervous about pushing too early again and took their advice. At some point around this same time the tub was finally ready and I was allowed to get in, which was a GAME-CHANGER. Getting in the tub gave me the tiny bit of relief that I needed in order to get through the last 30 minutes or so of contractions before I had to get out and push. While I was in the tub I had my "bloody show" (ugh I hate that term!) and everyone told me not to worry, that this meant things were about to happen. Right after this, I started getting the urge to push with each contraction. I had just been checked and had been told that I wasn't totally effaced yet, so everyone told me to hold off on pushing. This was SO crazy hard because I felt like I no longer had any control over my body, but I didn't actively push any harder than my body was doing on it's own with each contraction. My time spent laboring in the tub was marked by loud noises (I kept having to be reminded to keep them low and deep, and tried to do this by saying "opppeeeennn" in a low, loud voice, encouraging my body to open), but the sensations were so intense that this was very hard. While I was in the tub my amazing doula arrived (things had gone so fast that although she left home as soon as we got to the hospital, she didn't get there until the very end of my labor) and she started helping me with the back labor by taking over for Ben, who was applying counter-pressure on my back with each contraction and saying very encouraging things to me. Her presence had an immediate calming effect and definitely made me feel even more confident in my ability to get through this. As my urges to push got stronger and stronger and I started yelling "I'm pushing!" with each contraction, they told me to get out of the tub so I could be checked once more and so that I could push if it was time (we had decided before labor that I would push on either hands and knees or on my side so that my risk of tearing would be lower, considering I had an episiotomy and 4th degree tear when I had Charlie Mae). Thus, I got out of the tub (INTENSE!), got up onto the bed (INTENSE!), and my midwife checked me again (INTENSE!). The good news? I was ready to push! The bad news? Teddy's heart rate was dropping with each contraction so they wanted me to try and push him out quickly. And that's just what we did! I got on my side holding a leg up and my birth team guided me through how to push with each contraction. They were extremely encouraging and somehow--although it felt impossible at the time--I pushed him out in about 5-7 pushes (not sure exactly how many). At one point they even had me reach down and feel his head, which was both encouraging ("he's coming!") and discouraging ("he's nowhere near out yet!)". When Teddy came into the world, I felt an immediate flood of relief. Physically, it was a high like no other because the pain was finally gone. They put him on my belly--his cord was short so he didn't reach all the way up onto my chest--and then for a few seconds, things got scary: he was floppy and purple and wasn't crying. I started screaming "Why isn't he crying?" and the nurses quickly cut the cord and whisked him across the room. They sucked some fluid out of his nose and mouth and gave him some pats and he started crying and all was well, but in those 5-10 seconds when he wasn't moving or making any noises, I was completely panicked. Ben had to leave and go into the bathroom because he thought he was going to faint. But as soon as Teddy was aware and crying, they brought him back over to me and laid him on my chest. Once I knew he was okay, I felt complete. We were later told that because I had pushed him out so quickly, he may have just been stunned (or his lungs might not have been compressed for as long as usual) and just needed second to get acclimated to the world outside. But whatever the case, that one scary moment did not cloud the experience as a whole because otherwise, it was all pretty incredible. Once Teddy was on my chest and we started introducing him to breastfeeding for the first time, I was able to push out the placenta and was then given a bit of pitocin to help with the bleeding. I was then stitched up (I had a 2nd degree tear--WAY better than last time!) and we were done except for the excruciating contractions that came with breastfeeding and the uterus massages that I was given every once in a while to help my uterus return to it's normal size. Within an hour, everyone was gone, the lights were low, my birth playlist was still playing softly, Ben was asleep in a rocking chair next to my bed, and Teddy was nursing on my chest. It was just me and my doula, Lindsay, who hung around for a little longer and then left so we could rest and have some time as a family. Of course I couldn't sleep until way later in the day because I was so hyped up on adrenaline and oxytocin and pure LOVE. For the next few days as we recovered, I just couldn't believe what had happened: how quickly Teddy came into the world, how raw + unfiltered the experience was, how strong I felt after doing what I had hoped to do. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done and yet I had done it and now I had a beautiful baby in my arms. It felt like a miracle (and still does, 10 days later). So there you go. I think I'll close this novel here and talk more about the postpartum experience (thus far) in a future post, but I just want to say thank you AGAIN to all of you who encouraged me to try for the birth I wanted this second time around. It was so helpful to hear all of your positive second birth experiences and recommendations on resources, tools, etc. I am so thankful for your support and so thankful for this experience. Here are a few more pics of Teddy/the fam for those who missed them on Instagram! ...And now back to maternity leave!
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HELLO!I'm Mary Catherine, a Cape Cod-based yoga teacher, painter, designer, writer, mom, and list-maker extraordinaire. My goal is to inspire you to start living a more creative, simple, joyful, + purposeful life.
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