...And Then There Were 3

“A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.” –John 16:21

I just happened to stumble upon this verse during my pregnancy on a day I was feeling discouraged about my sciatic pain, and it made me feel much better. (Well, when it comes to God, there is no "stumbling upon verses.") Also, since I had decided I was not going to use an epidural during this delivery, it also served as a reminder that I could go without pain relief. Don’t get me wrong, I have used epidurals for my other two deliveries. I have told others to get an epidural if they can. I’m not trying to be a hero of any sort. So why would I choose differently this time? During my labor and subsequent epidural with Averey, I experienced a drop in blood pressure that needed shots of ephedrine, an oxygen mask, and me turning on my side in order to stabilize it. It made for a long uncomfortable night. And when push came to… well, push, the numbing effect of the epidural left me with minimal pressure for motivation to push. However, there wasn’t much pain, so the drugs did their job. Kelsey’s birth was a different story. Since my water had been broken for awhile and I was Group B Strep positive, and the laps I did around the maternity floor didn’t progress things far enough, I was dosed up with pitocin. It eventually made me reach the point where I had to request the epidural. Unfortunately, my blood pressure didn’t stabilize and reached scary low levels, so they had to turn it off. When it was time to push, I could feel EVERYTHING. While it was painful, I realized that if I would have another child, I wasn’t going to mess with the epidural. After all, I knew what it was like to give birth without one. I also figured that since Averey’s labor was 30 hours, Kelsey’s was 11 ½, that the third labor should just be a few hours. Right?

Much to my excitement, at my 37 week checkup on Friday June 22^nd, the doctor pronounced me 70% effaced and 1 cm dilated. I was officially full-term, and therefore could really go at anytime. Since Kelsey arrived at 38 weeks on the dot, I was hoping for another early baby. (Even Averey was born one day before her due date.) Both Jake and I knew that I most likely wouldn’t make it until July. I’d been having random contractions for a week, and I was feeling my stomach could not stretch any further. However, Jake’s uncle had passed away just a couple days earlier. With the services being held the coming Monday, Jake’s only request of Baby G was that he or she stay in until Monday was over. Oh, and not to mention our front and side doors were being replaced that day also. Thankfully, Baby G obliged.

Tuesday was another day off work for me, so Averey got to have a friend over. Kelsey and I went to the pool later on, and then I went to a Pampered Chef party in the evening. I knew I’d head back to work in the morning, but in the back of my mind I thought perhaps my four day weekend may turn into maternity leave…

1:15 a.m. Wednesday. Another random contraction. A bit more painful than before. Then another. Then another. Hmm.  Could this be it? It was enough to get me out of bed and walking, enough to get Jake out of bed, and then not enough to make me go back to bed. I might have fallen back asleep until another random contraction about an hour and a half later. Finally, at 4:15, they seemed to come about every 5 minutes. Jake convinced me that I should probably call the doctor. The OB on call told me to come in and they would check me out. After Jake’s mom arrived at our house, we headed for the hospital. We arrived bright and early at 5:30 a.m. The nurses hooked me up to the monitors, and I was glad to see that my contractions weren’t just figments of my imagination.

And thus began one of the longest days EVER.

My pre-admission questioning had been completed, just in case they decided to keep me. I said I would feel like an idiot if they sent me home for false labor with my third child. The nurse assured me that I wouldn’t be the first one to do so. I don’t think I had the pleasure of being checked to see how far dilated I was until about two hours later. I was a bit disappointed to hear I was only at 3 cm. Then they told me to walk for about an hour. The L & D/Maternity floor at Mount Nittany isn’t exactly a large scenic track, and I had déjà vu from the laps we made as I tried to move Kelsey down the birthing canal three years earlier. At least Jake and I were getting some exercise, although since I hadn’t eaten since 8:00 the night before, it didn’t help my growing hunger. One of the nurses told us that 15 laps was a mile. I’m guessing when it was all said and done that we walked about two miles. And it didn’t do wonders in getting me further dilated.

Jake went down to the snack bar and ate breakfast. I tried to ignore the food, not to mention all of the commercials on TV for restaurants and all sorts of tasty treats. The ice chips just weren’t doing much for me other than making me have to pee quite often which is no picnic when you’re in labor. I was finally able to drink some ginger ale, but those sips did little to satisfy me.

I think somewhere around lunch time, I had progressed to 3.5 or 4 cm. Woo hoo. The doctor said they could send me home and I could be dilated like that for a couple weeks (say whaaat?), or since I had tested positive for Group B strep yet again, they could start me on the antibiotic, kick on the pitocin and get things into gear. Since I delivered Kelsey at 38 weeks, and I was only two days away from 38 weeks, they decided I could stay and get things moving. Not thrilled about the idea of pitocin since it put me over the edge the last time, but my nurse was fantastic. She respected my wishes and understood my reasoning for not wanting an epidural, and while she reassured me that they could do things to prevent the drop in my blood pressure if I chose the epidural, she also said that if I did not want the drugs that she would do what she could to help me achieve that goal.

Even though Jake and I had the TV on, I still lost track of time. The hours (and minutes) seemed to drag, and reading became boring, playing Angry Birds on Jake’s Kindle Fire just became frustrating, and sleeping was out of the question. The pitocin started to amp up the contractions, but they were still tolerable… for awhile. I was so glad to get some Jell-o in the meantime. I savored every slurp. By mid-afternoon, I was up to 5 whopping cm, but then the doctor broke my water so I figured things would really kick into gear!

Not so much. The pain got a little worse, and I got irritated with sitting in bed, so I asked the nurse for a change in position. I decided to be adventurous (?) and go for the birthing ball. I could picture all sorts of clumsy scenarios by sitting on a ball while contracting, but it helped at least move some things along. While I thought that most of my water had surely leaked out, I was proven wrong when I sat on that ball. Holy gushing. Surely I would be close to 10 cm now! But when I learned I was still at just 5 cm, I cried. Both Jake and the nurse assured me that it was all right. She told me that her shift ended at 7:15, and I would have the baby before her shift ended. (Maybe this was after 5 p.m.? I don’t remember…) She suggested that I try the rocking chair, and at that point, I could have stood on my head if it meant the baby would pop out. Well, I think the rocking chair did the trick. The contractions were frequent and ferocious, and I can’t remember the last time (if ever) I screamed like that in my life. I’m sure I scared some first-timer out in the hall. I just didn’t care at that point, and when the doctor came in, she told me that I was ready to push.

Leaving out any gory details, the surprisingly long labor I endured with baby number three turned into the quickest delivery I’ve had. It happened so fast: Jake looking at me and telling me that it was a GIRL, seeing her for the first time, and then Jake’s phone ringing with my mom on the other end, anxiously awaiting any news. (It was a long day for all parties involved.)

Jacey Johna (feminizing Jake's middle name John) Gummo arrived (17 hours after my first contraction began) at 6:38 p.m. on Wednesday, June 27th. She weighed in at 6 lbs. and 12 oz. and measured 20 ¾ inches long (although I wonder how exact a science it is, measuring a newborn who’s just spent 9 months scrunched up in utero). She came out with a nice head of light brown hair, and looked almost identical to Kelsey at birth. It was another amazing experience to give birth to another healthy beautiful girl. And while poor Jake is severely outnumbered, he contends that God knows that he should be able to handle four females under his roof. After all, he was certain we were having another girl anyway (well, he claims that at least up until the last month—then he wasn’t so sure). He referred to Baby G as a “she” every time he touched my belly and was met with a kick. He’s got a better intuition than I do--he's two for two now! I really had no clue; but what a wonderful surprise it was.

I’d forgotten how wonderful and cozy newborn babies are. I said during my last sleepless month of pregnancy that I would rather be up with a crying baby than to be awake and uncomfortable. She wakes us from our slumber, but to nurse her in the middle of the night is incredibly relaxing. And since we’ve pretty much decided that three is our magic number, I might as well cherish this time since it will probably be my last time to enjoy my own infant. Even though she is my tiniest baby and can barely fit into the closet of sisterly hand-me-downs she has, I love her itty-bitty body. While I wonder what her personality will be like—if she’ll be a nurturer mother hen like Averey, or a comical busybody like Kelsey, (or something entirely different) I just want to take this time day by day and soak up the moment. As Averey and Kelsey (especially Kelsey) seem SO big to me now, the time with Jacey seems even more precious because the evidence that babies grow up so fast is staring me in the face (even when I shut that bathroom door).

Nine months feels like such a long time when you only get glimpses of that baby moving and grooving and hiccupping inside, when you’re trying to decide on names, when you feel so exhausted that you wonder how you can function daily. You wonder what this baby is going to look like, what their cry will sound like… and then they arrive, nine months has flown by, and upon seeing that baby, it all falls into place, and you wonder what you ever did without them.