You guys…my son just turned THREE! I’m feeling all sorts of ways about that, but mainly I’m feeling bad that it’s taken me this long to blog about his delivery story! He is my second child, and a lot of what they say about the second child is true for him: we didn’t fill out his baby book the same way we were able to fill out my daughter’s, my pregnancy belly pictures with him were either taken the last day of that week, or not at all, and many of his milestones were realized later like, “wait, was that his first word…or no?” Poor guy. We do really love you, so much!
Let me tell you about the exciting details of this delivery story, and how they differed from my first delivery (of my daughter).
In November of 2014, when my daughter was seven months old, we announced to the world that we were pregnant! We later found out that we would be having a precious baby boy, due on July 18, 2015. We had just moved into a new house, my husband was working night shift as a Sheriff’s Deputy, and I had been working at my new job for about six months. Our life was coming together, and FAST!
My pregnancy with him was much like my first. Not a lot of morning sickness – definitely feelings of nausea, but I wasn’t vomiting. Seabands helped a lot, and I lived off of Ginger drops! I wasn’t as particular about not eating junk food my second time around (like I was with my first) since I had such a bad experience NOT eating Taco Bell for three months when I was pregnant with my daughter, AND THEN eating Taco Bell out of the blue. I ended up in the hospital for what I can only describe as debilitating heart burn.
I gained weight about the same with him as I did with my daughter, but my little bump started showing a tad earlier – around 11 or 12 weeks, whereas my daughter “popped” around 16 weeks.
He very quickly became an active little guy! One we referred to as a future soccer player because of all the late night kicks in the ribs and wiggles all hours of the evening. I was blessed to have no complications with either pregnancy, outside of having low iron and the bad heartburn.
July 4th weekend of 2015 began to approach, and my mom informed me that a full moon was coming. If you’re unaware, there are many old wives tales surrounding pregnancy – some of which have proven (in my case) to be true, and some that are kind of bizarre – one of which is that a full moon can put a pregnant woman into labor. There is some scientific truth to that, so pregnant mamas beware! If a woman is close to being full term around the time of a full moon, it is said that the moon’s gravitational pull can have an affect on the amniotic fluid much like it has an effect on the water of the ocean, and influence when she goes into labor.
I was determined NOT to have my baby on the 4th of July, plus his due date wasn’t until the 18th – so why be concerned, right?
My husband and I had gotten into an argument earlier in the day on July 2nd, so I found myself angry-cleaning (you know what I mean, right?) to relax and sort my thoughts. It was in a moment of furious vacuuming that I suddenly felt a heavy pressure on my cervix. I realized what was trying to happen, so I stopped with the aggressive tidying and laid down. I even went as far as to elevate my pelvis so that baby boy would slide his way back up to my ribs.
And it worked!
Until I woke up at 4:30 the next morning seriously having to pee. I got up to use the bathroom, and BOOM! Contractions started at 7 minutes apart. My husband was still at work, so I called him and told him he needed to hurry home. My parents were on standby to come over and stay with my daughter until we were settled and ready at the hospital.
We took one last picture as a family of three, and off we went to the hospital!
I had been seen only by Military doctors, since we are a veteran family, so I was set to have this delivery at a local Air Force Base. Since it was early in the morning we didn’t hit any traffic, and I knew better this time to try and snack (if I could stomach it) since I would be starving right about the time doctors told me no more food.
I wasn’t fully dilated by 7:00 AM when we got to the hospital, so off they sent me to pace the hospital floors and scoot that baby out! An hour later they checked me and put us in our hospital room.
My birth plan was to go “all natural” for as a long I could. I took advantage of the hospital’s exercise ball and hot shower when I was delivering my daughter, but she was born “sunny-side up” (meaning her face was pointing towards my pelvis instead of facing down, which led to more back pain). My son was positioned face down, so more of my pain was felt in my legs. I did eventually opt to get an epidural, and enjoyed a couple hours with my husband preparing to meet our little man. 
Not too much later, two lady doctors came in, and told me it was time to push! My water had not broken yet, so they manually broke my water! That was an experience. My water slowly broke with my daughter, so it could be described as a trickle…whereas this manually breaking of my water was definitely a flash flood!
With the doctors’ help, I took my time breathing and pushing slowly to ease my son’s head out. My main goal this birth was not to tear. I experienced painful tearing with my daughter that resulted in stitches, and pain into the next three months. My doctors kindly worked with me my second go-round to achieve this.
As I felt my son’s head start to poke out, I reached down and stroked his hair. He was coming!! It was actually happening! After I pushed his head out, one of my doctors asked me, “do you want to help pull him out?” Say what? Am I even allowed to do that? Is it weird that I just asked that?
I started to pull my son’s shoulders out, and as soon as his shoulders were out, I sat up further so that I could get my hands under his arms. I slowly started to pull him out – completely unassisted! I lifted him out, and up onto my stomach – and let me tell you, I highly recommend being a part of such a breathtaking experience!
I rested him on my stomach, and looked at his beautiful blue eyes as he peed all over my gown. He made his grand entrance at 11:53 AM on July 3, weighing 6 pounds and 3 ounces.
Later that day, my parents brought my daughter to the hospital so that she could meet her baby brother!
Every delivery experience is different, and even when you think you have a plan those plans change. I am so grateful to my doctors and nurses that my son’s delivery was so positive!
I had no idea going into the hospital what my day was going to look like. I focused on breathing, dreaming of my son’s first moments, and – honestly – trying to make up my mind on his name.
I still get so excited talking about his birth story, and telling mothers about the surprising experience I had actually being able to pull him out. If you’re pregnant and interested, talk to your doctor and learn if this is a possibility for you!
Thanks for reading, I appreciate you all!
lifestyleofananxiousmom.com 