Warning: Due to the Graphic Nature of This Post, Reader Discretion Is Advised.

Nothing like a good birth story to get me back to blogging! I hesitate to share these things, but it's really much easier for me to put it all out there in typing than have you nosies awkwardly ask me "how it went"... or worse yet me being in mixed company telling the story and not knowing how much is too much. SO, read if you're nosey... and I know you are.

Unlike many sequels, this one far surpasses it's predecessor. It's all I can do right now to refrain from reading my past blog about Liam's birth story for fear of deleting it out of complete and total embarrassment. What I once thought a "birth story" has been mightily put to shame! Laiden's birth story is the ultimate. It deserves it's own episode of the TLC show and would make every bubbly 8-week-pregnant-first-timer sick. It would make veteran mothers nauseated and L&D nurses cringe. I might be exaggerating just a teensy bit, but only a teensy.

For those of you that don't know. We have been apart of a church planting process for the past several months. The church officially launched September 9th and has been FABULOUS! Anywho, every Sunday without fail, I had contractions. I'm generally not quick to "blame satan"... but Lord have mercy I contracted EVERY STINKING SUNDAY from the time I woke up until a few hours after church. This past Sunday things got slightly more exciting than usual when the contractions didn't go away after church. They continued through the afternoon and actually got QUITE painful. I started bleeding. Nothing major, but enough for me to think twice about it. We were getting ready that night to head to a friend's birthday party and I decided to call my doctor... just in case.

I got in touch with the doctor on call around 4:30. Blah, blah, blah, 33 weeks, contractions, bleeding. Apparently that's enough to warrant a "come on by". I told Will to go to the party and I would just run by the hospital, but he said he would take me and we would skip the party. We got to the hospital and my contractions actually began to die down quite a bit. After a long, drawn out check in process and lots of waiting, waiting, waiting on the nurse to stop chitty-chatting, I was hooked up to the monitor for observation around 6:30.

The nurse observed I was having contractions.

Will asked what he should tell everyone about why we weren't at the party. I told him not to say anything because they were going to tell me to drink more fluids, rest, and go home. 

The nurse then informed us that the doctor needed to check me, but couldn't check me in the room that I was in. She was going to "help us" move to another room. Her help consisted of grabbing Liam and parading him down the halls for all her friends to see. We literally stopped to chat with every nurse from this side of the hospital to that so she could show off my child. While I'm flattered, I was in a backless gown having contractions. It was an entirely different parade for me.

They put us in a Labor & Delivery room. Around 7:30, The doctor came in and observed I was having contractions. After checking my cervix and running a few tests, it was decided that I was 3cm dilated, 40% effaced, and in preterm labor. 

She decided to start Magnesium Sulfate through IV to try and get the contractions to stop. She said it's commonly a "last resort" for this situation, but at 33 weeks she did not want to risk it. If you've never had Magnesium Sulfate... you're lucky! I thought my skin was going to catch on fire and my head roll off my shoulders. I was also given a steroid shot to help develop the baby's lungs. JUST. IN. CASE. As if I wasn't on fire enough, I needed another needle induced burning sensation.

My wonderful parents came and picked up Liam. My dearest friend (who is also my Pastor's wife) - who is literally super woman - came and encouraged me.

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting.

Around 10:30 the doctor checked me again. The contractions had slowed every so slightly, but I was now 4.5cm and 50% effaced. She decided if I went past 5cm she would stop the medicine and let me progress.



More Waiting, Waiting, Waiting and another large does of fire in my veins.

At midnight I was checked again, this time by the nurse... 5.5cm and 80% effaced. Laiden had decided that she was coming despite our best efforts to stop her.

I got some pain medicine and had the Magnesium Sulfate turned off.

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting until I couldn't take it any longer! At 2:00 am I signed my life away for an epidural.

I knew the drill. Bend over, hug the pillow, quick stick, pressure, EUPHORIA! Unfortunately, my epidural didn't go quite as planned. I know I'm a whole-lotta-drama and tend to exaggerate, but when I tell you that I almost DIED I am not joking or exaggerating in the very slightest. The anesthesiologist almost killed me.

I remember my epidural with Liam well. I was shocked that my IV hurt worse and that it took a grand total of 2 minutes to do. I remember that fabulous numbing, warming sensation down my legs that ended all pain. This time was much different. The process seemed to take forever and was horrible painful. Despite numbing, I could feel the epidural going in. Things didn't feel right. Instead of a warming sensation going down to my legs, it went up and spread across my body. My tongue went numb, I couldn't breathe, and at the worst of it I couldn't hold my head up or keep my eyes open. I was terrified. I remember trying so hard to keep my eyes open for fear that I would stop breathing if my eyes closed. I remember trying to communicate my symptoms to my nurses and seeing the panicked looks in their eyes. I kept asking them if I was going to be ok and their "of course, sweetie"'s were far less than convincing. Will says the anesthesiologist was pacing and panicking as well. He kept using big words about his concern for my respiration depression and such to mask the obvious... I couldn't breathe.

It took almost 4 hours for me to regain some sense of consciousness and normalcy - even after they reversed the epidural medication.

The numbness slowly disappeared down my body from my head to my feet. Around 6:00 that morning I was semi back to normal and began to realize that my epidural was disappearing, but the baby was still coming. I began asking about my options.

My anesthesiologist returned. He told me that my epidural was "inserted wrong" and that he could either give me a "low dose" of the medicine when the time was appropriate or try to reinsert my epidural the right way. Neither sounded appealing. He didn't seem up for either one and offered lots of I'm Sorry's.

7:00 was time for shift change. I got a new nurse, but my sweet doctor hung around. She checked me and I was 9cm. She made the decision to break my water. Let me just say - that gush of fluid without an epidural was such a disgusting feeling that I almost vomited. It literally made me sick! The doctor also started pitocin and we prepared for delivery! I started freaking out about the pain. My contractions were getting stronger and stronger. This was the first time I had ever experienced "ready to push" contractions and they were no joke.

My doctor looked at me and said the last thing I wanted to hear:
"The best thing you can do right now for your pain is to have this baby"



I. AM. ABOUT. TO DELIVER. WITHOUT. AN. EPIDURAL.

After 2 more FOR REAL contractions I told Will that I quit and couldn't do this. haha! Luckily my new anesthesiologist showed up. He wasn't willing to do any epidural anything because of all of the issues I had, but he gave me something to "take the edge off". Whatever.

The pain was absolutely horrendous. It made me physically sick. I sweated and vomited and got horrendous shakes. My body had lost it's flipping mind.

After a "test push" that almost delivered Laiden in one fell swoop, they prepped for delivery. I had my doctor and my nurse. Laiden had a neonatologist, 2 doctors, and 3 nurses waiting for her!

My doctor told me to deliver just her head and then stop pushing so she could clear her airway and make sure there was no cord wrapped around her.

WHATEVER.

I DON'T HAVE AN EPIDURAL AND THIS BABY HAS GOT TO GO!

I pushed 3 times.

SOMEHOW within those 3 pushes the doctor convinced my husband to venture south to catch the action. He is forever scarred. He's lucky it was tiny baby Laiden and not melon headed Liam he saw come out!

Laiden arrived on the 3rd push at 8:12 am. She was 4 pounds, 14 ounces and 18.5" long. She was born with more hair than Liam currently has and actually looks like ME!


Please don't comment on my fatty fat fat face and my extra chins.

The NICU crew whisked her away after this quickie photo op. She had some labored breathing but they thought she would do well!

I celebrated my level ONE tear (instead of my previous THREE... Liam really is a melon head) and got stitched up.

I also gleamed a bit feeling all super womanish delivering without an epidural. Anyone who delivers totally drug free needs a psych eval stat.

I have tons more baby-mama-drama to share, but I've come to the end of Labor and Delivery so I'll save Postpartum and NICU for tomorrow. Stay Tuned!