Annabeth's (Really Long) Birth Story :: Part 1

Well, I figured that since my baby is about to turn 3 months old, it was probably time to get her birth story on paper... or, blog, I guess. I have loved reading Griffin's birth story here and there over the last three years and it's important to me that I can do the same with my baby girl!

Let's start at 40 weeks.

That is a big old 40 week belly. Whew.

I was due on Wednesday, January 22. If I had a dollar for every person who told me they though I'd have the baby early or on time, I'd be a wealthy woman. And honestly? I agreed with them. Griffin came 48 hours after his due date and in my heart of hearts, I thought we'd meet this baby before or very close to her due date.

To that, I say, "Bite me, heart of hearts." Apparently I don't know much about my own child and body.

So 40 weeks came. We had our 40 week doctor appointment and although I adore my doctor, he scared the pants off me with all of the risks you run by going over your due date. I think I cried out of fear for about 24 hours. I even called one of my favorite nurses back and talked to her about it. Thankfully, she reassured me that it's his standard speech and that they weren't worried about the baby at all.

Into week 40 we went. It came and dragged on and on and on. And next thing I knew, we were back the next week for my 41 week appointment. I had a NST (non stress test) and an ultrasound where everything looked good. The baby was measuring around 8 pounds and 21 inches and I had plenty of fluid. I was checked and I was about 3 cm dilated and 70% effaced. This was all well and good, but I hadn't had one contraction. I hadn't dropped. Things looked fine on the inside, but it didn't look like much was happening in the way of labor.

After these things, we sat down with my doctor. As I said before, he is a wonderful man and I appreciate him so much. He's not the doctor who delivered Griffin; he moved and I still can't talk about it without tearing up. I know, healthy. Anyway, my current doctor was very much on board with our desire to have another natural birth. Since the baby looked healthy and there wasn't a concern about her immediate health or safety, he said he was fine waiting until week 42 to induce.

However, what you have to know is I was D-O-N-E. I was huge and in pain and exhausted. I just wanted to meet my baby, but again, I wanted to have another natural birth. He told me that if I wanted to be induced, he could do it on Friday, January 31 or Monday, February 3. Tyler and I talked on the drive home and decided that if she hadn't come by then, we would induce. I felt a great amount of peace about this and thought she would surely come before then.

Again, my heart of hearts just isn't as sharp as it once was.

A "date" to my 41 week appointment

Sweet girl! It was kind of nice to have a bonus ultrasound.

My parents were planning to come when I went into labor to keep Griffin. Because they live 5 hours away, we did have a backup in case they didn't make it in time, but my labor had been so long with Griffin that they'd made it with plenty of time to spare before he was born. Since baby sister decided to be born during the WORST WINTER EVER, we were a bit nervous about the questionable weather. After my appointment, they decided to drive down that day so that they'd be here in the event that I did go into labor spontaneously and the weather was poor. I'm so glad that they did. They kept me and Griffin occupied during the long days of waiting.

This seems normal.

And wait we did. We got to Sunday and I still was very, very pregnant. In the week and a half that I'd been overdue, I'd tried EVERYTHING to get un-pregnant. Seriously. Everything. Massage, spicy food, walks, acupuncture, other... things. I tried it all. No dice. So when Sunday rolled around and I still hadn't contracted once, I resigned myself to the fact that I would be induced the next morning.

Truly? Even for someone who wanted a natural birth bad, bad, bad, I was okay with the induction. I wasn't thrilled, but my main goal was a healthy baby. And I just wanted my baby. I didn't care how she had to get here; I just wanted to see her face. After all we went through to have her, I was focused on simply meeting her. It was all about the end result for me.

We had a wonderful day on Sunday. We went to church and my mom made everyone their favorite appetizer while we watched the Super Bowl. I was able to really soak up my last day with Griffin as my only child and I was also prepared for what I knew was to come the next day. That night, as we were watching the game, I started to have some inconsistent contractions, but SPOILER ALERT, they meant nothing.

After I put Griffin to bed (and bawled my eyes out), I put the rest of our hospital stuff together and went to bed. I wanted to get up early to shower, do my hair, and eat a good breakfast before getting to the hospital for our 7:30 AM induction time. I didn't sleep well that night because I was feeling a whole host of emotions-- excitement, nervousness, anxiety, and disbelief that the day was finally here. We'd been waiting for much longer than 9 months for a chance to have another baby and I was bowled over with gratitude that our miracle was finally coming to pass. I also enjoyed a final night of (somewhat interrupted) sleep. It was a good day and I was beside myself with excitement that we'd be holding our baby within 24 hours.

Our last night as a little duo.

I'm going to continue this in another post because with the way I'm going on and on, you'll be here reading for the next week. My word with the long winded. I promise I'll post the second part tomorrow, so stay tuned!

And bless you, you're probably thinking that this whole portion has nothing to do with her birth, but to me, it was a big part of her arrival. I guess that's what happens when you reach the nearly 42 week pregnant mark. Bless.