Well here I am on my due date with a birth story to give rather than a long list of complaints about waiting for baby. I bet your almost as relieved as I am :)
Ironically, I wrote my last post complaining about being 39 weeks pregnant the day - well night - that I went into labor.
Last Wednesday the kids were home from school because of power outages and we had fun making Christmas crafts. I also was doing as much as possible to induce labor on my own, so while I was at my mom's I would keep running to the stairs to do ten laps up and down. They say stairs can do the trick, so Tuesday and Wednesday I probably walked 50 flights + all together. I also had been stuffing my face full of pineapple. I also did a 2 mile walk aerobics video on Tuesday and Wednesday and went all out. Walking is supposed to induce labor, but with the crazy wind and rain storms walking outside was not an option. I sat in deep squats and just tried to keep busy...in many ways...if you catch my drift... And as I went to lay down to sleep around 11:30 pm the contractions started.
I ignored them at first because they weren't anything out of the norm. Then when they were getting more intense and closer together I got out of bed around 12:30 am to walk around to see what would happen. They were every 3 minutes or so, but not lasting too long. Around one I called my mom to tell her I needed to go in and that we would be dropping the kids off. At this point I couldn't walk during the contractions and could talk, but REALLY didn't feel like it. So I packed our bags, woke Brigham up, packed up the kids, dropped them off, and headed to the hospital. I really did not enjoy laboring in the 30 minute car ride. Terrible.
When we pulled up around 2:00 am I entered through the emergency room. I walked in and told them I was in labor and they sort of freaked out because they thought I was super early because my baby bump didn't look that big, but when I told them I was 39 weeks they calmed down.
After being taken to triage, they wanted me to "prove myself" even though my contractions were every two minutes. I was dialated to a 5 and 80% effaced. Still, they made me walk the halls for an hour. I. Was. Ticked. I was in so much pain, not to mention the nurse, like normal, couldn't get to my cervix because the baby's head was so low and my cervix was so posterior. It was excruciating as she tried to tell how dialated I was. And after that check, I was bleeding all over the place. But whatever. I would prove myself.
When the nurses came to check me in an hour I was actually freaking out because my contractions were still coming but weren't nearly as intense, so I said a prayer with Brigham in our room that things would go well and that we wouldn't be sent home. Prayers were answered as the nurses came in and asked how things were going. Then they went to check me again and I had only dialated to 5.5 cm. But then they saw how much I was bleeding. Suddenly extra nurses were called in and checking me all concerned at the amount of blood, and THEN I was FINALLY admitted.
It was 5 am before I was admitted to a labor and deliver room of my own and the anesthesiologist was there waiting. Boy was I glad, because at this point my contractions had picked up again to the point where my whole body was shaking and I couldn't control it. He was fast, efficient, and good at what he did. And although I was terrified to get an epidural sitting up (I always had them laying on my side) it was just fine and I love him.
It was a relief to finally just rest. Laboring from 11:30 pm - 5:30 am was LONG, considering my longest total labor and pushing together was 8 hours, and I had just gone 6 before getting the epidural. I still was only at 6 cm when my mom came around 6:30 am to be with us. However, I convinced the doctor to break my water so that things could speed up.
The baby was doing well during all this, and as I've mentioned before, he's sensitive to touch and very active, always kicking my belly where pressure was applied. Well anytime the nurses wrapped the monitoring straps around me he would kick and kick at them until they slipped off. Also, the nurses kept trying to feel his head to make sure he was the right direction, but he would wiggle up and away from them. They were shocked and laughed about it as he did it every time. And they had to keep adjusting my straps and then watch my belly bounce as he started kicking at them again right after they fixed them. I think he's going to be a stinker, this one.
After they broke my water I was left alone for a couple hours or so as I was at a 6-7. I started feeling nauseous and hungry and tired and started shaking again. And then I was fine. It seemed as though my contractions has slowed again so we called the nurse in. She checked me and I was at a 9. It seems that when I was feeling nauesous I went though transition and I had progressed. So the nurse said that they would give me another hour and check me again, unless I started feeling pressure or the urge to push. My mom and I looked at each other and knew that they were crazy.
Not ten minutes later I felt pressure and an urge to push. We called the nurse in and she checked and said I was ready and that we'd give a practice push. As I started to push with the next contraction she yelled STOP! I was shocked. "Don't push - this baby is right here and we need the doctor!"
The doctor was summoned and it was about 20 more minutes before I was given the go ahead to push. And with the next two contractions I pushed out my beautiful baby boy at 10:16 am.
He cried louder and longer than my first two, but still wasn't very distressed. He calmed down quickly and just laid on me until the cord stopped pulsing with a look of dismay.
It was like, "What have you put me through? I have a headache." We laughed and cried and I marveled at this sweet human being.
After the cord stopped pulsing, Brigham cut it and he was taken to be weighed and measured as my small tear was stitched up and the placenta delivered.
7 lbs 13 oz and 18.75 inches long, he is my smallest baby by only one ounce.
After measuring him we spent some skin to skin time.
I look like I felt - tired and like I has labored all night. But I was so happy. It was my longest labor by far, at just under 12 hours (Lydia was 8 and Ammon was 4 hours), and I missed the scheduled pitocin and epidural that pushed labor along with my first two, but it was also fun to see what it's like going into labor naturally and see what my body can do on it's own without the pitocin.
Kendrick Nelson Tappana looks like his siblings, and I can see both of them in him. Most everyone says he looks like Ammon, but he's got some Lydia in him too and I can see more of my side in him than I have been able to see in either Lydia or Ammon.
I call him my little gorilla man because he has a bigger nose and heavy brow that he likes to scrunch up so he looks like a little gorilla. Especially right after he was born, with everything still swollen and his hair all fuzzy, he looked just like one.
We went though all the normal hospital ordeals and Kendrick has his first bath.
He enjoyed the bath at first, until they took him out of the water. And then he cried the hardest I had heard him yet. It was a warning of things to come. This boy does NOT like the cold.
Under the warmer, when he was comfortable, they tested out his neck and leg strength. He showed them he's got some strength. I could have told them that :)
That night my parents brought the kids to meet their brother. It was so sweet and I loved having my other children there to meet him.
I was really worried at how my children would react to their brother. Throughout my pregnancy they were both pretty apathetic about the whole thing, with Lydia getting a bit more excited near the end. I was happy that they both wanted to hold him and seemed to like him. As we've brought him home they are both enamored and wary of him. They enjoy holding him and don't quite care for how much of our time he takes up.
Ammon likes to play it cool, and act as if he's not that interested. But occasionally he asks to hold him and when he thinks no one is paying attention, he strokes his head or his cheek. Melts my heart. Ammon also always asks, "Where's the baby?" and comes running when he cries to see what's going on.
Lydia likes to say loudly, in the highest-pitched voice you can imagine, "HI KENDRICK!!!" It kills your ears, but is so sweet I don't ever stop her. She loves to hold him and always tells me to give him a hug while she's at school. She did have a day when all the change got to her and she cried that she didn't understand why everyone cared about the new baby so much. Poor thing, change is hard.
Although the hospital was good about leaving us alone to rest, they really didn't provide a lot of the things I was used to from my other deliveries. They didn't have socks or a onesie with gloves to protect Kendrick from scratching himself. And this boy got my fingers and nails, just like Ammon did, and he was doing a number on himself. In this picture you can kind of see where his face was scratched up.
The day after I delivered I finally pulled out the outfit I had picked out for the hospital that had sleeves to cover up his fingers.
I also had fun playing with his head of hair, making mohawks and enjoying some of his awake time.
I was worried he would be like his brother and not open his eyes for the first two weeks of his life, but he's been right in the middle between Lydia, who always had her eyes open staring around, and Ammon who NEVER opened his eyes. He likes to sleep a lot and sit with a concerned look on his face, but he will struggle to open his eyes and look around and focus. I love it.
When we were FINALLY discharged (it took forever, not until 4pm the next day) It was fun seeing the progression of packing up this little man to bring him home.
And at home we've truly been enjoying ourselves together as a family. Of course recovery stinks and I hate this time with the bleeding and the hormones and the pain more than I can express, but at the same time having a newborn that we've waited so long for is so wonderful, I really can't complain.
God answered our prayers in so many ways before and during this pregnancy, during labor and delivery, and after. I would be so ungrateful if I didn't acknowledge His hand. When I finally became pregnant and felt that confirmation from Heavenly Father that it was time, I couldn't stop the tears of gratitude. And I can't stop them now. This boy is so beautiful, and even with all my health issues he's perfect so far. It was everything I hoped for and that I was so afraid wouldn't happen. All the waiting, and praying, and tears have helped me appreciate this special time more than I ever would have before and I'm so grateful to Heavenly Father that he chose to bless me with a yes to my prayers to have another baby.
Because really, these three are my three greatest things that ever happened to me and their dad. We would be lost without them. They are my world. I'm so excited to celebrate Christmas time with my little family and I'm so grateful to everyone that has prayed or helped me along during the waiting, the sickness, the praying, and the big event. And I'm SO grateful that I get to type out this birth story today with my little boy grunting and squeaking beside me. I'm one blessed girl.
You can expect my future posts to be flooded with pictures of this young man. Prepare yourselves :)
It hardly ever snows in Washington, and I always miss it. This year we've had multiple days of snow falling.
