{Emeline Ruth's Birth Story}

And some thoughts about pain...

Wednesday, August 19^th was our last day of summer break. I was determined that we were going to have a fun day and end summer with a bang. Who knew that boy would it ever end with a bang!

The girls played with friends all day. They got to have a friend picnic at lunch, play in the kiddie pool, and ride their bikes to their hearts' content. 

I just did a zillion loads of laundry and crocheted a hat for whenever baby Emmy did decide to make her debut. With all my pregnancies I have lots of Braxton Hicks contractions. I didn’t seem to have as many with this one but they were quite a bit stronger and more numerous the few days prior. I kept track of them on an app on my phone so that I’d be sure to know when to go into the hospital. Maylee came really fast and without many painful contractions, but they were close together. I don’t even think we were at the hospital for an hour before she was born so I’ve been a little paranoid that I’d have this baby in the car or something crazy like that. 

I started the day with only two in an hour. They progressed to three in an hour from 2:00 to 5:00, but I had 5/hr from 5:00-8:00 and they were a little uncomfortable. I slowly seemed to get more contractions but they were SO irregular. Like 20 minutes, 9 minutes, 12 minutes, etc. But from 8:00-9:00 I had 8 contractions (again, like 12, 9, 6, 13, 7… so irregular and nowhere near 5 minutes apart) but I just kind of had the feeling like they weren’t going to go away that night. I called my mother-in-law Teri and she came and got the girls for a sleepover even though she had work the next day and I was still worried that this was just a false alarm. I’d be so embarrassed if it came to nothing! At 9:30 Dennis called our wonderful neighbors and he came over and I received a blessing. I felt much better after that but still felt like I wasn’t in enough pain to actually be in labor (the same thought I had with Maylee until they broke my water 10 minutes before she was born!) so I took my time grabbing my things, took a little bath, had Dennis take my picture, and we were off to the hospital.

The look he gave me when I asked him to take my picture...

Only 2 more hours left being pregnant! Woot woot!

Naturally my contractions would get further apart (like 7-9 minutes) as we went to the hospital. Our friend Jenn walked us up to the maternity ward from the ER after hours entrance.  Things were pleasant and we joked the whole way up. I was worried (again like Maylee’s) that I didn’t look miserable enough and they wouldn’t admit me, but we took our time getting hooked up to the monitors. The Labor & Delivery nurse was training a gal on her first day there so there was a lot of talking and explaining. It was after 11:00 by the time they checked me. I was disappointed to hear I was only 4cm, maybe 5, but my waters were bulging (whatever that means) so she said it was good I came in just in case they broke. She still wasn’t 100% sure that they’d keep me at the hospital until she checked with the doctor and he gave them the go ahead to let me stay. They asked if I was planning on an epidural. I had been telling myself all along that if things moved as fast as Maylee’s did that I’d forego the epidural and just tough it out for 10 minutes of pain (always trying to save a penny! I laugh at that now!) I was really worried about the “ring of fire” pain more than the contractions and told them that. They had mentioned the possibility of a local anesthetic, but we decided to revisit the question after they checked me again in an hour. She told me it could be a long night and wanted me to walk around to try and help things progress. I was a little uneasy being unhooked but at least I was in the right room to be delivering a baby if nothing else. I really don’t think they believed me when I told them that my previous labors moved pretty fast. 

It was in that hour just before midnight (right after they checked me and unhooked me from the monitors) that my contractions actually got a little painful and close at 2-4 minutes apart (still not regular). I did not have a single painful contraction before then, just uncomfortable. My mom was awake at her house but I didn’t want her to come in until I was closer. We waited to call her until they checked me again right after midnight. The nurse said, “You’re not gonna believe this. You’re at an 8. The average is usually only one cm an hour, not four.” I wanted to be like, “told ya so!” but she seemed genuinely surprised that things were moving that fast.

We revisited the anesthesia question, but this time with a little more urgency. It was quite possible the anesthesiologist wouldn’t even make it in before I delivered. At the time I remember thinking of how annoying and inconvenient it would be for the doctor to be called in at midnight and then get there only to be too late to administer the epidural. The nurse told me she would help me with with my breathing and other pain management… I feel  like she was kind of rooting for me to go natural. I don’t blame her now; I did make the decision all on my own NOT to call the anesthesiologist right then, but if I could go back again I wouldn’t have batted an eye lash for whatever the inconvenience or whatever that bill would have been for ten minutes of relief! Hahaha! Curse my cheapness!


So we proceeded. Sans drugs. Not one itty bitty Tylenol. Nothing. I have never felt anything so boldly,  vibrantly, shockingly painful in my life than I did in that last half hour! I used to think I had a high tolerance for pain. I laugh at myself now!

Doctor Allen came and broke my water at 12:20. Apparantly I labored for another half hour but it felt like 10 minutes to me. There was meconium in the amniotic fluid which I knew meant that the NICU team would have to check Emmy out as soon as she was born. It seemed like a dozen people flew into my room all at once and started setting up tables and tools… But no one seemed too worried and (surprisingly) I wasn’t worried much about the meconium either. I had a feeling she was doing just fine. Me, on the other hand… The contraction pain grew exponentially. It was manageable, but not by any other means than really loud “Ow” sounds coming out of my mouth. All I could think about was not dying.

Mom arrived right before they broke my water. I was a little paranoid about the camera having the right exposure settings so in-between contractions I’d have her take a snap of me, hand me the camera, fiddle with the settings, then hand it back to her before the next contraction came and I would feel the urge to destroy anything I could get my hands on. (A little dramatic? Yes. If you haven’t experienced it- don’t judge.) 

So I got the settings right for that handsome guy over there...

But the lights are quite a bit brighter over here. Don't let the smile fool you. This was in-between contractions. 

But seriously... Hand me the camera mom so I can make sure the settings are right. 

A handful of painful contractions later (manageable… but just barely), the nurse said there was still a little bit of a lip left to dilate and not to push. I thought, “Okay. That won’t be hard. I never really ever felt like pushing with my other two deliveries. That urge must be broken in my body.”

Holy cow, 2 contractions later my body was pushing and I was not in control of myself whatsoever. I told the nurse “I can’t not push!” Immediately I experienced a pain that I was sure could only accompany death. All of my muscles were conspiring against me to tear my body in half... and then there was a whirl wind of breaking down the bed, a short break from the pushing sensation, and then it was back with a vengeance. There was no way I could stop it- just as there was no way I could stop the next contraction from coming. I'm not sure if I was ever given the go-ahead to actually push, but I was pushing. The words “Holy Smokes” come out of my mouth. I think I was in disbelief that anyone could actually survive that kind of pain, let alone have the outcome be something so amazing and beautiful as a little person. I remember thinking, “I will not survive another contraction. I have to consciously push as best I can or I WILL pass out.” 1 Push. Loooooooud scream. Forget breathing. Forget pain management. Ha! 2 Push. There was no measuring the decibel level in that room. I’m surprised that all are not now deaf as a result… I hear a voice telling me to look down… “What does that mean? Why would anyone tell me to look down if there wasn’t anything to look at… Wait!” Sure enough… There was a baby! My baby! Holy smokes I survived! My pain was so quickly replaced with joy (and relief) I couldn’t catch my breath!

I’d like to think that in the couple minutes it took for the nurses to check Emmy out and declare her perfectly healthy that all I could think about was how wonderful and beautiful and amazing the whole experience was, but I remember promising myself that I would not only never turn down an epidural again, but that I would demand to get one as soon as possible. I had a discussion with the doctor in the minutes following about how Heavenly Father helps us forget the pain. I believe Dr. Allen called it a blessing, but I think it’s a trick so we have more kids. ;-) Even now, 4 days later I don’t remember what it really felt like, only that I made an oath to never do it “natural” again! AND... I only really experienced it for a half an hour. How does anyone choose that for hours on end?! I applaud you amazingly strong women. I think it requires mental strength more than anything- I feel like I’m physically strong, but I know I’m not mentally strong. I also feel like if you’re going to do it natural it needs to be for the right reasons. Does anyone go to the dentist and refuse sedatives because they want to prove they’re tough, are afraid of needles, want to save the doctor the trouble of giving a shot, or because they want to save a few bucks by refusing? No. That’s just ridiculous. I will never scoff at a mom that refuses an epidural but I would never EVER encourage someone to go without unless they had a good reason.

In summary, I don’t find labor and birth an empowering, beautiful and spiritual experience, and I don’t think you’ll ever talk me into thinking that way (nor do I think it's bad to feel that way), but for me I LOVE getting to hold my baby for the first time, and it’s when all the doctors and nurses clear out of the room (which is usually pretty fast) and you just get to hold and really see your little miracle… That’s when I feel close to heaven and I can really feel my Heavenly Father’s love. Families are such a wonderful blessing He's given us.

I love brand new squishy newborns!

Waiting to get to hold her for the first time

She was so fascinated with her tongue for the first few days

  Emmy was just perfect. Dennis opted not to cut her cord (can’t say I blame him- wouldn’t be my favorite part of the birth experience either) and she was cleared by the NICU nurses after just a couple minutes. She was 6lbs 11oz, 20 inches, born 12:58am. They wrapped her up and handed her to me and I couldn’t stop staring. I love squishy newborns! It amazes me how much their features change in just a few days, let alone a few weeks! I think I’ve figured out what parts look like who, but then they change and I just don’t know! But mostly, she looks like Emmy. :-)

We decided on Emeline Ruth for her name. I’ve always liked the name Emeline but even more so I really really like the nickname Emmy. I didn’t know this until we were looking through family history records for name ideas a few months ago, but I have a great great grandma named Emeline. Ruth is Dennis’ paternal grandma. I love that Emmy has a name with meaning and I hope she likes it as much as I do.

Emeline is an absolute sweetheart and we are so happy to have her in our family! We’re still a little bit disbelieving that we have 3 little girls now, but we’re excited. Life is pretty wonderful.