Naomi Grace | A Birth Story

Monday, January 19, 2015






Miss Naomi Grace is one month old today. WE MADE IT A MONTH YOU GUYS. I think it's safe to say that the past month has been the most challenging of both our lives. But this whole parenting thing? It's pretty darn incredible. Throughout most days I have moments when my heart could just explode with how much love I have for this little girl. And then other moments when I find myself bouncing her on the exercise ball for hours on end, debating how long I might last before I wet myself if I don't use the bathroom sometime soon. Too much?

We were expecting her debut on December 4th. ELEVEN days later, I tapped out and picketed outside the midwives office asked the midwifes to be induced. Before we went into the birthing center, I reluctantly admit to taking a few tablespoons of castor oil to...ya know...move things along. I'm still gagging over the sink just thinking about it. And no, that melted plastic-like "oil" didn't convince Naomi to budge. 

So we went into the birthing center on a Saturday night to be induced. The hours that followed involved lots of Seinfeld and McFlurries and "oh! I THINK that was a contraction" contractions. Things had gotten much more intense by the morning and all day Sunday was a lot of working through those in hopes of seeing that girl's face by the end of the day. We rolled on balls, walked hallways mid-contraction as the happy pregnant couples toured the center (you should have seen their faces), "watched" the Packer game, and asked the midwife about a thousand and six times...HOW MUCH LONGER?! I was all for the natural birth thing but, friends, if things got real...and they did...I was all for the huge needle in the back that makes it all go away. 

By Sunday night I was put on Pitocin to keep things moving along. And then things got REAL. You never think that you'd find yourself pants-less in a huge bathtub, nearly breaking off your husband's hand bones, sobbing and shaking in pain and using choice words towards a very nice woman that you don't know very well and a nurse who for some reason feels the need to keep pouring cold water in the tub. But there you are. There. You. Are. I finally got out and since I was still only 5ish cm and who knows how much longer I'd be doing that...it was time for the big huge needle in the back. 

So the angels in green gowns and masks came in with their magic potion and papers to sign and bright lights and before I knew it, the very nice man told me how I'd start to feel a warming sensation crawling up my legs. YES SIR, YES I DO! THANK YOU! And all I could think was...everyone should have babies this way! Even though I totally respect any and every way people want to have their own babies. After 24 hours of labor, I could finally close my eyes for a hot second and gather the scattered pieces of what was left of me so I could finish this thing. 

We did not have a baby that night...in fact, my dear out of town sister slept in the bathtub that night and Jeremy in a chair as we waited for Naomi's head to move it's way down so I could finally push. After several hours of holding a peanut shaped exercise ball between my legs and a little bit of sleep, Monday morning came and it was time to push. Two and a half hours went by and we were still at it. Since her head was facing up, it was nearly impossible to try and turn it and impossible to birth a baby that way. I rested for a half hour...by this time I had not eaten or drank any water because of the epidural for over 12 hours. Oh! Did I want some water. A person cannot go on like that! 

This little girl and I and the good Lord in heaven had a little exchange of words that morning. This baby was going to come out. She was! So we went back at it again. During that time I'm pretty sure the midwife made me order breakfast and asked me why my toenail polish did not match my fingers...the master of distraction techniques I tell you. The epidural had started to wear off and I was like, "Oh h-e-double hockey sticks NO." I got a small little tie-me-over dose and an hour later, after 3 hours of pushing...she was out. She came FLYING out. I have never felt that kind of relief in my whole life. And there she was, our little girl. Her forehead all bruised and her noise smooched in on one side. We had a hockey player on our hands! The rest of the morning was all a blur. Pretty sure I guzzled some water and ate that breakfast I ordered hours before. And dear sister who slept in the bathtub got a chance to hold her before it was time to head back home. 

As far as I'm concerned, there will be no repeat of this whole giving birth thing for awhile if I have anything to say about it. But Naomi has totally rocked our world since then and I am one very, very proud mama. 

Happy one month birthday, Naomi. We made it!

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