Life is a roller coaster. Having a baby is a roller coaster on hormones. Both roller coasters can never be planned for accordingly, because you never know what is around the bend.
I learned this seven years ago when our third baby was born.
With my second baby, our daughter, I was blessed to experience a water birth at our local hospital. It was a heavenly experience (as far as labors go) and I was excited to have the same experience with my third child. Along with planning my water birth, I again decided I wanted to know the sex of my baby. With babies, I don’t fly by the seat of my pants. I need to shop and wash newborn sleepers. I need to organize and have everything in place well before the baby comes home. It’s like therapy.
At 18 weeks, the ultrasound technician told us we were having another girl. By my third trimester, I had stacks of newborn sleepers and new crib bedding. I redid our daughter’s bedroom for her and her new sister. We had a name (Ella) and a new pink patchwork car seat. I was fully prepared, with everything in place. There was nothing to do when my baby came home other than be a mommy.
At exactly 37 weeks, I awoke around 1am. I had terrible pain in my stomach. The pain was different from labor pains; it was strong and intense. My labors were quick with my first two munchkins, but they always began with gradual pain which then progressed quickly. This didn’t feel like labor, more like Samurai knife torture right through the middle of my pregnant gut.
I tried to walk it off, but it got worse. I did the three things every pregnant woman is supposed to do when she isn’t sure if the contractions (or gut wrenching knife pain) are real; I walked, drank water and went to the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later I woke my Hubby. The pain was now excruciating. My exact words to him were, "I don't think I'm in labor. But something is wrong. We have to go to the hospital."
Hubby called our friend to stay with our two sleeping children, and then we called my parents and my midwife. By the time we were leaving, about ten minutes later (this is 1 hour after my first pain woke me), I could barely stand. The pain in my stomach was so intense I felt like I was being ripped apart. There were small breaks for me to breathe, but labor had contractions with minutes in between. Not seconds.
Hubby called our friend to stay with our two sleeping children, and then we called my parents and my midwife. By the time we were leaving, about ten minutes later (this is 1 hour after my first pain woke me), I could barely stand. The pain in my stomach was so intense I felt like I was being ripped apart. There were small breaks for me to breathe, but labor had contractions with minutes in between. Not seconds.
The hospital was thirty minutes away. Hubby drove in silence and I breathed. About five minutes from our house was a small local hospital. We were driving past it when Hubby looked over at me in the dark. "Do you want me to pull in?"
I was silent. I was in pain. I couldn't speak.
"Jodie! Do you want me to pull in?"
I whispered yes. The stabbing pains were agonizing. As we were about to pull into the parking lot, I had an ounce of relief. I thought about my midwife, whom I adored. I thought about my planned water birth. I began to shake my head, "No...no...keep driving...I can make it...."
"Are you sure?" Hubby hid his panic well.
"Yes. Get on the highway." Hubby did as I asked. The highway to the hospital only had exits every few miles, and we were in a rural area.
Only five minutes in, I felt pressure. I felt the baby's head. I began to cry.
Hubby looked at me and he knew we were in trouble. The highway was black; no one for miles. I whimpered to him, "You have to call 911. The baby is coming. You have to call 911."
This is where Hubby amazed me. There was no hesitation. I waited for an "Are you serious?" but there was none. He called 911 and kept his composure. He will never know how much gratitude I felt for his moment of composure.
As Hubby dialed 911, I sat in silence. I breathed. My water hadn't broken. I felt pressure, but we had time. I rocked in my seat, I have time...I have time... the words soothed me as I said them in my head.
Hubby told the 911 operator he was pulling off exit 12. Exit 12 was a mile away, and there was a State Police Barracks there. The operator assured us a police officer would meet us outside. For the first time since I woke up in pain, I felt like we were going to be alright.
I was silent. I was in pain. I couldn't speak.
"Jodie! Do you want me to pull in?"
I whispered yes. The stabbing pains were agonizing. As we were about to pull into the parking lot, I had an ounce of relief. I thought about my midwife, whom I adored. I thought about my planned water birth. I began to shake my head, "No...no...keep driving...I can make it...."
"Are you sure?" Hubby hid his panic well.
"Yes. Get on the highway." Hubby did as I asked. The highway to the hospital only had exits every few miles, and we were in a rural area.
Only five minutes in, I felt pressure. I felt the baby's head. I began to cry.
Hubby looked at me and he knew we were in trouble. The highway was black; no one for miles. I whimpered to him, "You have to call 911. The baby is coming. You have to call 911."
This is where Hubby amazed me. There was no hesitation. I waited for an "Are you serious?" but there was none. He called 911 and kept his composure. He will never know how much gratitude I felt for his moment of composure.
As Hubby dialed 911, I sat in silence. I breathed. My water hadn't broken. I felt pressure, but we had time. I rocked in my seat, I have time...I have time... the words soothed me as I said them in my head.
Hubby told the 911 operator he was pulling off exit 12. Exit 12 was a mile away, and there was a State Police Barracks there. The operator assured us a police officer would meet us outside. For the first time since I woke up in pain, I felt like we were going to be alright.
But as Hubby pulled off the exit, there was splash of warmth down my legs. My water broke. I started to break down, yelling and crying. I was panicked and afraid. We were out of time.Hubby pulled into the State Police Barracks seconds later. He threw the car in park. Three things then happened simultaneously; I heard Hubby tell the 911 Operator "There's no one here! There's no one here!” he ran around to my side of the car, and I threw my seat in recline. By the time Hubby opened my door I was pushing.
On that cold October night, we were alone and Hubby was ready to deliver our baby. I most certainly, in all my planning and birth preparations, did not plan for this.
The operator talked Hubby through the mechanics of delivery. I don't remember any of it except him removing his sweatshirt to wrap our newborn in. I went from sheer panic and fear, to nothing except my desire to push. I pushed my baby into this world with such determination I remember nothing other than my focus.
After three pushes our baby was born. In the front seat of our minivan Hubby caught our baby and untangled the cord from its neck. I remember relief, just relief from the agonizing, gut wrenching intense pain. I laid back and relished that moment of relief.
The operator talked Hubby through the mechanics of delivery. I don't remember any of it except him removing his sweatshirt to wrap our newborn in. I went from sheer panic and fear, to nothing except my desire to push. I pushed my baby into this world with such determination I remember nothing other than my focus.
After three pushes our baby was born. In the front seat of our minivan Hubby caught our baby and untangled the cord from its neck. I remember relief, just relief from the agonizing, gut wrenching intense pain. I laid back and relished that moment of relief.
Somewhere through my cloud of what the heck just happened to me? I heard my Hubby, "Holy sh*# Jodie, it's a BOY!"
I knew I was supposed to be shocked and amazed, but at that moment it could have been a puppy and I wouldn't have cared. There was so much for me to take in I couldn't absorb it. Hubby wrapped the tiny precious person in his sweatshirt and placed him in my arms. I sat in the front seat of my car, in the middle of nowhere, staring at my new baby. After a few wails to let us know he was alright, he slept quietly in my arms.
Two policemen may have caught the end of my delivery, but I couldn't have cared less about the peep show with all the pain I was in. An EMT arrived minutes after them and they stayed with us and monitored our vitals. I just sat, in shock, holding my new munchkin. My BOY munchkin.
When we were loaded into the ambulance, I was euphoric and eternally grateful as the reality of what just happened began to set in. At only 5lbs 13oz, born with the cord wrapped around his neck in the front seat of the car, my baby was healthy.
The aftermath of the birth was the front seat of our car being destroyed (ever seen red jello?) and we now had an abundance of baby girl attire to return. We also had no name for our new baby. After a night of thinking about our new son and what to name him, Hubby decided we should name him after where he was born.
I knew I was supposed to be shocked and amazed, but at that moment it could have been a puppy and I wouldn't have cared. There was so much for me to take in I couldn't absorb it. Hubby wrapped the tiny precious person in his sweatshirt and placed him in my arms. I sat in the front seat of my car, in the middle of nowhere, staring at my new baby. After a few wails to let us know he was alright, he slept quietly in my arms.
Two policemen may have caught the end of my delivery, but I couldn't have cared less about the peep show with all the pain I was in. An EMT arrived minutes after them and they stayed with us and monitored our vitals. I just sat, in shock, holding my new munchkin. My BOY munchkin.
When we were loaded into the ambulance, I was euphoric and eternally grateful as the reality of what just happened began to set in. At only 5lbs 13oz, born with the cord wrapped around his neck in the front seat of the car, my baby was healthy.
The aftermath of the birth was the front seat of our car being destroyed (ever seen red jello?) and we now had an abundance of baby girl attire to return. We also had no name for our new baby. After a night of thinking about our new son and what to name him, Hubby decided we should name him after where he was born.
It wasn’t my first choice, but neither was having my son in the car. I decided it was time to start making concessions.
Looking back, the whole experience is still very surreal. Aside from my memories and our 911 recording, we have a birth certificate that states "Parking Lot" as place of birth. We don't have any video other than a few minutes of me holding our son in the front seat of the car. We don't even have an accurate birth time. No amount of planning or preparation could have prepared me for how I delivered him, or discovering “she” was a “he.”
Looking back, the whole experience is still very surreal. Aside from my memories and our 911 recording, we have a birth certificate that states "Parking Lot" as place of birth. We don't have any video other than a few minutes of me holding our son in the front seat of the car. We don't even have an accurate birth time. No amount of planning or preparation could have prepared me for how I delivered him, or discovering “she” was a “he.”
Miraculously, even without a prepared bedroom and pre-washed wardrobe, I had a baby. And he was perfect. Thanks to grandma, he even went home dressed as a boy in a boy car seat.
Life has a way of surprising us, but it also has a way of making everything work out. We just need to be ready for surprises and remember to enjoy the ride.
My birthing plan story is Chapter 2 in the MAM Blogger Real Parenting Guide. I encourage you to read other chapters and find out more about all the stuff, like the bottles, pacifiers and teethers that MAM makes to make the job of parenting easier.
Want to win a $100 Babies “R” Us gift card?
Leave a comment below answering the following question: “What’s the funniest thing you or someone you know said while in labor?”
Sweepstakes Rules:
No duplicate comments.
You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:
Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post
Tweet (public message) about this promotion; including exactly the following unique term in your tweet message: “#SweepstakesEntry”; and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post
Blog about this promotion, including a disclosure that you are receiving a sweepstakes entry in exchange for writing the blog post, and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post
For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.
This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winner will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.
The Official Rules are available here.
This sweepstakes runs from 08/21/13-10/07/13.
Be sure to visit the MAM Brand Page on BlogHer.com where you can read other bloggers’ posts and find more chances to win!
Life is a roller coaster. Having a baby is a roller coaster on hormones. Both roller coasters can never be planned for accordingly, because you never know what is around the bend.
I learned this seven years ago when our third baby was born.
With my second baby, our daughter, I was blessed to experience a water birth at our local hospital. It was a heavenly experience (as far as labors go) and I was excited to have the same experience with my third child. Along with planning my water birth, I again decided I wanted to know the sex of my baby. With babies, I don’t fly by the seat of my pants. I need to shop and wash newborn sleepers. I need to organize and have everything in place well before the baby comes home. It’s like therapy.
At 18 weeks, the ultrasound technician told us we were having another girl. By my third trimester, I had stacks of newborn sleepers and new crib bedding. I redid our daughter’s bedroom for her and her new sister. We had a name (Ella) and a new pink patchwork car seat. I was fully prepared, with everything in place. There was nothing to do when my baby came home other than be a mommy.
At exactly 37 weeks, I awoke around 1am. I had terrible pain in my stomach. The pain was different from labor pains; it was strong and intense. My labors were quick with my first two munchkins, but they always began with gradual pain which then progressed quickly. This didn’t feel like labor, more like Samurai knife torture right through the middle of my pregnant gut.
I tried to walk it off, but it got worse. I did the three things every pregnant woman is supposed to do when she isn’t sure if the contractions (or gut wrenching knife pain) are real; I walked, drank water and went to the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later I woke my Hubby. The pain was now excruciating. My exact words to him were, "I don't think I'm in labor. But something is wrong. We have to go to the hospital."
Hubby called our friend to stay with our two sleeping children, and then we called my parents and my midwife. By the time we were leaving, about ten minutes later (this is 1 hour after my first pain woke me), I could barely stand. The pain in my stomach was so intense I felt like I was being ripped apart. There were small breaks for me to breathe, but labor had contractions with minutes in between. Not seconds.
Hubby called our friend to stay with our two sleeping children, and then we called my parents and my midwife. By the time we were leaving, about ten minutes later (this is 1 hour after my first pain woke me), I could barely stand. The pain in my stomach was so intense I felt like I was being ripped apart. There were small breaks for me to breathe, but labor had contractions with minutes in between. Not seconds.
The hospital was thirty minutes away. Hubby drove in silence and I breathed. About five minutes from our house was a small local hospital. We were driving past it when Hubby looked over at me in the dark. "Do you want me to pull in?"
I was silent. I was in pain. I couldn't speak.
"Jodie! Do you want me to pull in?"
I whispered yes. The stabbing pains were agonizing. As we were about to pull into the parking lot, I had an ounce of relief. I thought about my midwife, whom I adored. I thought about my planned water birth. I began to shake my head, "No...no...keep driving...I can make it...."
"Are you sure?" Hubby hid his panic well.
"Yes. Get on the highway." Hubby did as I asked. The highway to the hospital only had exits every few miles, and we were in a rural area.
Only five minutes in, I felt pressure. I felt the baby's head. I began to cry.
Hubby looked at me and he knew we were in trouble. The highway was black; no one for miles. I whimpered to him, "You have to call 911. The baby is coming. You have to call 911."
This is where Hubby amazed me. There was no hesitation. I waited for an "Are you serious?" but there was none. He called 911 and kept his composure. He will never know how much gratitude I felt for his moment of composure.
As Hubby dialed 911, I sat in silence. I breathed. My water hadn't broken. I felt pressure, but we had time. I rocked in my seat, I have time...I have time... the words soothed me as I said them in my head.
Hubby told the 911 operator he was pulling off exit 12. Exit 12 was a mile away, and there was a State Police Barracks there. The operator assured us a police officer would meet us outside. For the first time since I woke up in pain, I felt like we were going to be alright.
I was silent. I was in pain. I couldn't speak.
"Jodie! Do you want me to pull in?"
I whispered yes. The stabbing pains were agonizing. As we were about to pull into the parking lot, I had an ounce of relief. I thought about my midwife, whom I adored. I thought about my planned water birth. I began to shake my head, "No...no...keep driving...I can make it...."
"Are you sure?" Hubby hid his panic well.
"Yes. Get on the highway." Hubby did as I asked. The highway to the hospital only had exits every few miles, and we were in a rural area.
Only five minutes in, I felt pressure. I felt the baby's head. I began to cry.
Hubby looked at me and he knew we were in trouble. The highway was black; no one for miles. I whimpered to him, "You have to call 911. The baby is coming. You have to call 911."
This is where Hubby amazed me. There was no hesitation. I waited for an "Are you serious?" but there was none. He called 911 and kept his composure. He will never know how much gratitude I felt for his moment of composure.
As Hubby dialed 911, I sat in silence. I breathed. My water hadn't broken. I felt pressure, but we had time. I rocked in my seat, I have time...I have time... the words soothed me as I said them in my head.
Hubby told the 911 operator he was pulling off exit 12. Exit 12 was a mile away, and there was a State Police Barracks there. The operator assured us a police officer would meet us outside. For the first time since I woke up in pain, I felt like we were going to be alright.
But as Hubby pulled off the exit, there was splash of warmth down my legs. My water broke. I started to break down, yelling and crying. I was panicked and afraid. We were out of time.Hubby pulled into the State Police Barracks seconds later. He threw the car in park. Three things then happened simultaneously; I heard Hubby tell the 911 Operator "There's no one here! There's no one here!” he ran around to my side of the car, and I threw my seat in recline. By the time Hubby opened my door I was pushing.
On that cold October night, we were alone and Hubby was ready to deliver our baby. I most certainly, in all my planning and birth preparations, did not plan for this.
The operator talked Hubby through the mechanics of delivery. I don't remember any of it except him removing his sweatshirt to wrap our newborn in. I went from sheer panic and fear, to nothing except my desire to push. I pushed my baby into this world with such determination I remember nothing other than my focus.
After three pushes our baby was born. In the front seat of our minivan Hubby caught our baby and untangled the cord from its neck. I remember relief, just relief from the agonizing, gut wrenching intense pain. I laid back and relished that moment of relief.
The operator talked Hubby through the mechanics of delivery. I don't remember any of it except him removing his sweatshirt to wrap our newborn in. I went from sheer panic and fear, to nothing except my desire to push. I pushed my baby into this world with such determination I remember nothing other than my focus.
After three pushes our baby was born. In the front seat of our minivan Hubby caught our baby and untangled the cord from its neck. I remember relief, just relief from the agonizing, gut wrenching intense pain. I laid back and relished that moment of relief.
Somewhere through my cloud of what the heck just happened to me? I heard my Hubby, "Holy sh*# Jodie, it's a BOY!"
I knew I was supposed to be shocked and amazed, but at that moment it could have been a puppy and I wouldn't have cared. There was so much for me to take in I couldn't absorb it. Hubby wrapped the tiny precious person in his sweatshirt and placed him in my arms. I sat in the front seat of my car, in the middle of nowhere, staring at my new baby. After a few wails to let us know he was alright, he slept quietly in my arms.
Two policemen may have caught the end of my delivery, but I couldn't have cared less about the peep show with all the pain I was in. An EMT arrived minutes after them and they stayed with us and monitored our vitals. I just sat, in shock, holding my new munchkin. My BOY munchkin.
When we were loaded into the ambulance, I was euphoric and eternally grateful as the reality of what just happened began to set in. At only 5lbs 13oz, born with the cord wrapped around his neck in the front seat of the car, my baby was healthy.
The aftermath of the birth was the front seat of our car being destroyed (ever seen red jello?) and we now had an abundance of baby girl attire to return. We also had no name for our new baby. After a night of thinking about our new son and what to name him, Hubby decided we should name him after where he was born.
I knew I was supposed to be shocked and amazed, but at that moment it could have been a puppy and I wouldn't have cared. There was so much for me to take in I couldn't absorb it. Hubby wrapped the tiny precious person in his sweatshirt and placed him in my arms. I sat in the front seat of my car, in the middle of nowhere, staring at my new baby. After a few wails to let us know he was alright, he slept quietly in my arms.
Two policemen may have caught the end of my delivery, but I couldn't have cared less about the peep show with all the pain I was in. An EMT arrived minutes after them and they stayed with us and monitored our vitals. I just sat, in shock, holding my new munchkin. My BOY munchkin.
When we were loaded into the ambulance, I was euphoric and eternally grateful as the reality of what just happened began to set in. At only 5lbs 13oz, born with the cord wrapped around his neck in the front seat of the car, my baby was healthy.
The aftermath of the birth was the front seat of our car being destroyed (ever seen red jello?) and we now had an abundance of baby girl attire to return. We also had no name for our new baby. After a night of thinking about our new son and what to name him, Hubby decided we should name him after where he was born.
It wasn’t my first choice, but neither was having my son in the car. I decided it was time to start making concessions.
Looking back, the whole experience is still very surreal. Aside from my memories and our 911 recording, we have a birth certificate that states "Parking Lot" as place of birth. We don't have any video other than a few minutes of me holding our son in the front seat of the car. We don't even have an accurate birth time. No amount of planning or preparation could have prepared me for how I delivered him, or discovering “she” was a “he.”
Looking back, the whole experience is still very surreal. Aside from my memories and our 911 recording, we have a birth certificate that states "Parking Lot" as place of birth. We don't have any video other than a few minutes of me holding our son in the front seat of the car. We don't even have an accurate birth time. No amount of planning or preparation could have prepared me for how I delivered him, or discovering “she” was a “he.”
Miraculously, even without a prepared bedroom and pre-washed wardrobe, I had a baby. And he was perfect. Thanks to grandma, he even went home dressed as a boy in a boy car seat.
Life has a way of surprising us, but it also has a way of making everything work out. We just need to be ready for surprises and remember to enjoy the ride.
My birthing plan story is Chapter 2 in the MAM Blogger Real Parenting Guide. I encourage you to read other chapters and find out more about all the stuff, like the bottles, pacifiers and teethers that MAM makes to make the job of parenting easier.
Want to win a $100 Babies “R” Us gift card?
Leave a comment below answering the following question: “What’s the funniest thing you or someone you know said while in labor?”
Sweepstakes Rules:
No duplicate comments.
You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:
Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post
Tweet (public message) about this promotion; including exactly the following unique term in your tweet message: “#SweepstakesEntry”; and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post
Blog about this promotion, including a disclosure that you are receiving a sweepstakes entry in exchange for writing the blog post, and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post
For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.
This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winner will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.
The Official Rules are available here.
This sweepstakes runs from 08/21/13-10/07/13.
Be sure to visit the MAM Brand Page on BlogHer.com where you can read other bloggers’ posts and find more chances to win!
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