Monday, December 1, 2014

Darla Rae Hasler's Delivery

Darla Rae Hasler's Delivery Story

An accidental water birth


The Pre-Labor Clues

Although I was surprised she came two days early, in retrospect, I did have some big hints that labor day was looming near. So for all you nine-month pregnant women out there who are looking for subtle hints that your baby's coming soon, here were a couple of impending labor signs I experienced the day before Darla was born:
  1. I finally had the nesting urge kick in. I cleaned and organized several closets and we finally set up the crib in our room. 
  2. I was very antsy and irritable all day. I was so impatient with Paul by dinner time I almost cried with frustration.
  3. I had a sudden burst of energy and went for a ninety minute power walk in the morning.
  4. For the first time in my pregnancy, I had a major decrease in appetite. That was very weird to me.
  5. I had diarrhea all day long. (Sorry. You can't avoid TMI in labor stories.)
  6. My braxton hicks contractions were much more frequent than usual, and my lower back was crampy.
At about 10:00 pm on Saturday, November 22nd, I felt a tiny leak, which I assumed was urine. (Wetting my pants was nothing new to my third-trimester self.) But when it kept leaking in little bits, even after using the restroom, I decided to take more notice. After laying back down in bed at about 10:30, something changed and the tiny leak turned into a gush. This was not pee. I'm so good at suppressing false hopes, that it took me quite a while to convince myself that, yes, this really is the real thing and I needed to tell Blair. I decided to wait until contractions were something to speak of before sounding the labor alarm. Sure enough, I felt a slightly painful contraction radiate from my lower back. I told Blair, and I sensed that familiar excitement from him. The next contraction didn't come for another 7-10 minutes, but we both knew how quickly things could progress so we texted my mom and the Nilsens. Gary came over to spend the night with Paul before my mom would pick him up in the morning. 

Getting to the Hospital

The ride to the hospital was much more relaxed and pleasant than the ride to Paul's delivery. My contractions were only slightly painful and were about 6-7 minutes apart. We strolled through the Emergency doors at around 11:45 and spoke light-heartedly with the man at the desk. It was not serious yet. However, I do remember telling Blair that I was pretty tired. It worried me to be feeling so exhausted at the beginning of this marathon. I still had a nasty cough from a lingering cold, and I had lost a lot of sleep in the last few days. 

We were in Triage for a while. It was pretty obvious my water actually broke; I was leaking all over the place. The contractions were picking up in intensity as we waited in that room, talking to the RN, head nurse, and midwife. They were awesome and kept asking us what we wanted from them and what kind of experience I hoped for throughout labor. When I told them I wanted to use the labor tub, they said it was all mine whenever I wanted it, but the midwife kept stressing that they do not do water births and that I was to get out of the tub as soon as it was time to push. The head nurse felt Darla through my tummy and predicted a baby around 7 lbs. I tore very badly with Paul so I asked them for tips on how to avoid tearing this time. They talked about holding off and going slowly. I laughed in my head thinking about the freight-train intensity that took over my body last time. I told them that Paul was out in about three pushes - less than 15 minutes, but that I would try to go more slowly this time.

At around 12:30 we were taken to room #1 - the largest room and closest to the tub. Contractions were pretty painful by this point, (though I could still talk through them), and were about 2-3 minutes apart. They started the process of looking for a vain to give me the first round of antibiotics. (To our disappointment, I tested positive for Group B Strep again. I didn't get the full dose of antibiotics with Paul, so we had to stay at the hospital longer than we would have liked. I really wanted to avoid that this time.) They jabbed my arm and digged around for a vain... in vain. Just like last time, they had to call in a vain-poking expert, and just like last time, the expert resorted to inserting the hep-lock into the back of my hand *shudder*. I had to be hooked up to the antibiotics for about 45 minutes, during which, I signed all the paperwork. (Below is a picture of the actual room I labored in... at least for the first little while.)

Not Fun and Games Anymore

As it got closer to 2:00 am the contractions (I use this word a lot. Not sure how to avoid it.) were painful enough that I had to stop, consciously relax, and breath through them. We had the lights dimmed and Blair had some soothing music playing. After using the bathroom, I had Blair ask the nurse to bring me a birthing ball. The ball felt good to sit and bounce on between contractions, but during each contraction, I had to brace myself against the bed. They were so intense, it was getting harder to focus on relaxing. It didn't feel like back labor this time, which was nice, but it was still super painful. The RN asked me if I wanted to use the tub yet. I said "no" simply because I didn't want to jump in the tub too early and stall labor. I think it was the very contraction after she left that made me change my mind. I had Blair call her back so they could get the tub ready. I was getting desperate for some kind of relief.

The Heavenly Water! 

It was around 3:00 am when we got to the labor tub. It was large and deep and very inviting. Oh, the relief from that warm water was indescribable! I sank into that heavenly water, rested my head on the head cushion, and didn't move from that position for at least an hour. The contractions became somewhat bearable again and I was able to relax through each one. The long breaks between contractions was a luxury I didn't get to enjoy during hard labor with Paul. (Below is a picture of the labor tub I spent three hours in.)

As labor (I use this word a lot too) progressed, I was getting restless again. Time started to drag on and on in that dark room. It felt like we'd been in there for days as the merciless pain pummeled me over and over again. I was starting to lose my cool. I was able to keep my focus and relax through the first half of each contraction, but each one was just too much, and by the second half I was thrashing and moaning. That familiar frantic feeling started to creep up inside me. Darla, for some reason, liked to move and squirm during contractions. Oh my word, that hurt so much! Plus my occasional lung-hacking cough turned the the torture level up ten notches. I was so exhausted that I actually started to feel my body trying to doze between a couple contractions, but, of course, sleep was a distant fantasy.

I thought, I need a blessing. Five seconds later Blair asked if I wanted a blessing. It was short and encouraging and perfect. Shortly after receiving that blessing, I was given a slightly longer break and was able to actually fall asleep for a minute! The best part was that I was able to wake up before getting hit by the next contraction. When I did wake up I said, "What? We're still here?" It felt like a nightmare-come-true, but that one minute of sleep was surprisingly helpful. I could stay on top of the waves again... somewhat.

The Heavenly Popsicle! 

I was nauseous, but my hunger was stronger. At around 4:15, I asked for something to eat. The nurse gave the options of jello or a popsicle. The popsicle was the right choice. The cold felt so good in my hot body, and it was slightly distracting to suck on something. I highly recommend eating a red popsicle during labor. Despite the nausea, (and the fact that I'd been watching my mucous plug float around the tub water with me), Blair said I inhaled that popsicle like a vacuum.

At 4:40 or so, the RN hooked me up to the antibiotics for the second dose. She said that I only needed to stay pregnant for 30 more minutes in order to receive the full dose of antibiotics and be in the clear. She administered it at the highest speed which caused the skin in my hand to sting and throb. I didn't mind the sting, in fact I welcomed anything that would potentially distract me from the contractions (yeah, right). At 5:15 the RN unhooked me from the antibiotics. I made it!

At about that time, Blair set up music in the tub room after asking me if I wanted it. The music was helpful in a strange way. It made me feel like I was in a dramatic scene from a movie where I was on my deathbed, or fighting in an intense battle in slow motion. For some reason that heavy emotional feeling gave me the ability to breath deeply like I was supposed to. The best song to labor to is Hallelujah by Billy Joel. It's calm and relaxing, but doesn't mock the seriousness of what's happening. It makes one feel like a silent, fierce fighter!

Blair

I just have to take a paragraph to say Blair was an amazing coach. He kept giving me water to drink, would talk me through the contractions, rub my neck and shoulders, kiss me and tell me what a wonderful job I was doing, assure me that I was strong and that each contraction was getting me closer to the finish, demonstrate deep breathing, sing or hum quietly, and keep a fresh washcloth on my sweaty forehead. The only times he left my side were to get something for me. I kept thinking that if I were him, I'd be asleep in the chair. Not to mention, Blair's the kind of person who doesn't flip out over seeing someone in distress; he stays calm and level-headed and the grossest sights and smells of labor don't even phase him. I can't believe how blessed I am to have him by my side during labor and throughout life. As long as he's next to me, I feel like I can do anything!

The Final Stretch...?

Blair and I like to compare labor to running a race. For the last hour or two Blair had been telling me I was in the hardest stretch, which meant I was almost done. It certainly felt like I had been in transition for hours already, which is what I kept telling him, but as each contraction somehow got stronger and longer, I'd realize how delusional I must be. I thought that since I'd been through this before, I'd know what I was going through and could tell when I was in transition, but now I felt so out of touch. I desperately wanted someone to tell me exactly how much longer I had to endure this, because I obviously had no clue. What mile mark was I at? We both wondered out loud whether the water was slowing my labor down. Blair said he didn't think that was necessarily a bad thing since my last labor gave me no breaks and this one was. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I don't think I was capable of thinking rationally at that point anyway. The scariest part of labor is not knowing how much longer one has. That, to me, makes it harder than running a race.

I noticed I was shivering occasionally. I couldn't tell if I was actually cold, of if my body was just so exhausted from handling pain that it was twitching and flipping out. In any case it made me think about temperature, which made me realize the tub water was not nearly as warm as it used to be. At my request, the RN showed Blair how to filter in warm water again. That change was so amazing, I wondered why none of us thought of doing it sooner!

Despite the water being warm again, I was feeling less and less in control of the waves of pain that were now officially one on top of the other. No breaks to contractions creates the same panic as getting no breaks for air in waves of water. It's exhausting and it's honestly terrifying. I was praying silently at this point that delivery would come quickly because I was beginning to lose my mind. I was feeling defeated.

Then, I Felt It... 

...that incredible force I remembered so well. My body was heaving and pushing. I was afraid of pooping in the water. Although I'm sure it was very apparent from the grunting that came from me, I told Blair once the contraction was over that I felt very "pushy". The RN must have called in the midwife and head nurse at hearing me say that, because they came in pretty quickly. The head nurse asked if I wanted to be checked and I said "yes" because I knew this was it. She seemed to think she could take her merry time, explaining that they can  check me while I stay in the tub and blah blah. I said "hurry!". When she eventually did check my cervix, she said she still felt some of the sack on the baby's head and that I was barely dilated to a seven. Then she added, "actually, it's more like a six". That was slightly disappointing to hear, but that didn't change what I was feeling. I knew my body was getting ready to push this baby out.

The head nurse said she thought I still had some time if I wanted to stay in the water for a few more contractions. I was glad to hear that because I did NOT want to get out of the water, nor did I think I could if I tried.

Bloop!

As soon as they left the room, not even five minutes since the last "pushy" contraction, all hell broke loose! My body squeezed me with more power than I thought it had. I opened my mouth to say I needed to get out of the tub, but instead of my voice, I heard an ugly, guttural scream escape me for the duration of the delivery... which was not long at all. I felt everything happen in super speed. At 6:14, her head descended, crowned, and forced its way out in a matter of seconds. Thank goodness the RN was still in the room. She heard me scream, told Blair to pull the emergency cord for the extra staff, and told him to go open the door. I heard her say, "Breath!" then, "Oh! Here's the head!". Within the five seconds Blair had turned to get help, our baby was born and he missed seeing it. It was nice to be so light and mobile in the water. I was gripping the side of the tub with one hand and was half floating on my side until Darla came out, at which point I was on my back so the RN could place her on my chest.

Meeting Darla

The head nurse and midwife were in the room very fast, but not fast enough. I was already holding my baby and trying to make sense of what just happened. The first thing I noticed was the brown and red water that surrounded me. I was sitting in a giant toilet bowl. (Birth is a beautiful yet gross thing.) Then I realized I was holding my baby! I looked down at her. She was completely covered in creamy, yellow vernix, and she was so perfect. I immediately felt a deep love and responsibility for this little soul. I noticed she wasn't crying and I wondered if she was breathing. The RN must have wondered the same thing, because she started vigorously rubbing Darla's back. We came to realize she had been breathing all along through her nose. She was so peaceful. Unlike Paul, who opened his eyes right away, Darla kept her eyes closed and almost seemed to sleep her way into the world. Blair was right there by my side again, saying, "you did it!" and, "there she is!". They let him cut the umbilical cord, which was kind of short.

Meanwhile, my body was in shock. I was convulsing and shivering and twitching. The shaking didn't stop for a full hour after delivering her. At one point the nurse asked me to move my leg, and it took me a couple seconds to make the mental connections necessary to comply. ("Where's my leg? How do I make it move?")

 The very same midwife who stressed the importance of getting out of the tub, was now very congratulatory and saying things like, "You did a wonderful job!" and "You're our first water birth!". Blair later told me that the nurse who was overseeing the birth floor for that night actually came into the room during this time. The head nurse who told me I was only dilated to a six only minutes before was now defensively trying to explain the situation to the head head nurse. (I obviously don't understand the medical staff's hierarchy.)

The clean-up and stitch-up 

After about five minutes or so, they had me step out of the tub and get on the gurney-type bed. I was shocked by how much blood was coming from me When all was said and done, the room looked like the scene from a massacre. No wonder they "don't do water births"! I pitied whoever had to clean up that mess.

Amazingly, I only had minimal tearing from that fast delivery. But the local anesthetic they administered didn't even touch me. I felt every stitch. Thankfully there wasn't as much damage this time, but ouch! About an hour after delivering Darla, I took the shower I so desperately needed. It felt heavenly!

They weighed and measured Darla. She was 7 lbs 14 oz, and 19 3/4 inches long. After looking at her all cleaned up, I was surprised by how much she looked like Paul when he was born. Even her cry reminded me of him. As time goes by, though, she has definitely started to take on her own look.

Post-Delivery Musings

It's interesting that both my labors were so similar. Both times my water broke while in bed getting ready to sleep. Both times I was GBS positive. Both labors were technically eight hours long: Paul - 12:15 to 8:06am, Darla - 10:00 to 6:14am. However, unlike last time, I didn't have hard labor the entire time; real labor didn't really pick up until about 1:00am, so that's closer to five hours of intense labor.

Some differences:  This time I didn't feel the labor all in my back, like did last time. It was more uniform all around my abdomen. Also, I had an actual on-off pattern to my contractions, so I could catch a breather between each. That was certainly not the case with my first labor. Darla was moving somewhat throughout labor, unlike Paul. And, like I mentioned earlier, it was NOT comfortable.

I finally tried using a pressure-point technique for pain management that we learned in our Bradly birth classes. You're supposed to firmly press your finger at the center point between your eyebrows. I had forgotten about this trick during Paul's labor, but tried it out this time. It was hard to tell if it was working, but it must have been, because every time I tried it, I was able to stay still and calm during a contraction. I would say it's worth trying.

Yet again, I was reminded to listen to my body, not the people who tell me how dilated I am.

After this experience, I feel like water-birthing is the only way to go. If I ever do this again, I really want to have a planned water birth.

Overall, it was an intense, rich, and very satisfying experience! I love the euphoric high that comes after delivering a baby naturally. And I love the immediate bond I feel for my little family - especially Blair. There's nothing else like it! I'm so in love with my little girl already! I feel so unfairly blessed!













Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Baby girl on the way!

 
18 Weeks

30 weeks
35 weeks (today)

This little girl has been GROWING in the last few weeks. I was feeling somewhat small and contained until suddenly *POP* belly!

The heartburn miraculously stopped about a month ago (haleluja!). Does that mean the baby has "dropped"? I never know when that happens. 

 It's getting down to the wire. We just installed the car seat, but there's still so much to do! I'm still waiting for that nesting urge to kick it...

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Tillamook and Hike

There are so many things I love about Blair and Paul. One of them being they both love to hike as much as I do.

On a whim, we decided to drive to Tillamook and spend our Saturday hiking Cape Lookout (and rewarding ourselves with yummy dairy). If you haven't done that hike before, it's a beautiful 5 miler that takes you out to the tip of the cliff-filled peninsula. Would you believe that our three-year-old Paul practically did the whole thing on his own two legs... happily? There were only a couple brief stretches that Blair had him on his shoulders. This kid is a natural-born hiker! Not only did he walk more than 4 miles of it himself, he was RUNNING up the hills at the end of it! We started the hike at 1:40 and finished around 5pm. After hours of hiking he somehow had the energy to run uphill for the whole end of it! Here's proof in video:

I was fully expecting Paul to be tired and pleasant during our car-rides, and whining and complaining during the hike. But it was the complete opposite. He was whining and screaming in the car both ways, but was sooooo happy to be outdoors during our hike. Crazy kid.

It was a relief when he finally fell asleep on the way there.
These two would run ahead of me and hide until I came. Paul would just laugh and laugh!

Proof we made it!

We were all pretty tired and hungry after Cape Lookout, so we stopped at the Tillamook Cheese Factory for some well-deserved dinner and icecream.

Is is just me, or do our faces look photoshopped into the Tillamook car? We were there for real! I promise! haha


Paul's 3rd birthday

Catch up time!

We celebrated Paul's third birthday on the fourth of July. Blair's family was already getting together for food and fun at a park so we did the lay thing and just tagged Paul's birthday onto an already planned party. (Let's see how often this happens in Paul's life.) Paul didn't know the difference and had a blast!

Paul's been practicing holding his "three" fingers and was quite skilled at it with both hands before the big day hit. Of course, I don't have a picture of that. But here are some other pictures and videos from the event. Enjoy!








Yay! Squirt guns!








Thursday, April 10, 2014

Paulisms

Some funny Paulisms as of late:

"I'm always a funny boy, but not right now." This was said while he was tired and mellow. I guess his usual, loud, and crazy self is what he calls "funny".

"Let's go walk on the chewy rocks!" Hey, if there can be crunchy rocks there must be chewy rocks too, right?

As Blair headed out the door for work, Paul cheerfully told him, "Have care of your day, daddy!"

To my horror, Paul has developed an obsessive love for the word "poop". He thinks it's hilarious to randomly exchange a word in his sentence for that word. I'm hoping the potty humor is getting out of his system early...
While watching me use the sewing machine he warned, "Be careful mommy, that needle could go really fast and then you would have no fingers anymore."

I overheard this little gem while Paul was playing with his trains:
" 'Help me crain!' shouted the train anxiously." As if he were narrating a story book.

"See you in a few whiles!"

"See you next later, guys!"

Paul also really likes using the word "usually", but he uses it like we would use the word "sometimes". Example: "Usually I tell you yes... and usually I tell you no."


I tell people that Paul is 150% boy. He's all about trains, planes, trucks and cars. If those vehicles are crashing and fighting, that's even better! He also would live outside if I
let him. I often find him digging up worms, handling centipedes (true story!), running, splashing in the mud,
and THROWING anything and everything! And, man, does he have a good arm! He would make a great pitcher some day! I should get it on video just so you can see what I'm talking about. Now if only I could get him to stop trying to practice in the house.

Photo courtesy of Gary Nilsen

 As rough and tough as he likes to think he is, Paul's still a baby at heart and can be frightened into fits of girly screams without one even trying to startle him. He also has a very tender heart and is excellent at comforting anyone who is sad, just by giving a big hug and saying, "It's alright. Don't be sad. I'm sorry."

He sure makes life exciting and enjoyable! We love our Paul!












Sunday, February 2, 2014

Potty Trained (at the beginning of the year!)

Paul is (mostly) potty trained! Hurray!

I had been meaning to tackle the potty issue with Paul for a while, but it wasn't until the last week of Christmas break that I finally took the plunge. It really felt like a leap of faith because I was still debating up until the very night before the planned time. My plan of attack? The "three-day potty training" method I read about all over the internet.

I say "mostly" trained because he still wears a diaper at night, and he still isn't wearing big boy undies during the day. That's right. My boy goes commando every day. That seemed to be the winning factor to his potty-training success.

How did I do it? I literally spent three whole days in the kitchen with a naked-bottomed boy, building train sets and eating (and drinking!) snacks.

The first day went surprisingly well. I was not expecting Paul to be able to "hold it" for as long as he would. (Three hours was normal!) There were a few accidents in the beginning, but as soon as he realised he got a sticker, fruit snack, and a mommy dance every time he went in the toilet, he was gung ho about it the rest of the day! I thought, this is going to be a piece of cake! 

Of course, pride comes before the fall. Enter day number two. I thought he did so well the first day, I could go ahead to introduce the undies on day two rather than day four. Boy was that a mistake! As soon as one of those undies touched his skin, he was a leaking faucet! We went through all of his undies in the first half of the day and the novelty of potty training was wearing off for Paul. His confidence and excitement were dwindling. He was starting to resist. I began to seriously doubt whether he was ready, and was almost ready to give it up all together. But, I decided to take my mom's advice and keep surging forward. I took off those silly undies (who needs them anyway?) and made up my mind to make this way of living his only option now. No more diapers during the day and that's that!

But what did that mean? Was I going to have to carry around a half-naked child and a portable potty everywhere? I crossed my fingers and put him in loose fitting pants for the second half of day two. Bingo! I found the perfect balance!

By day number three, his (and my) confidence sky-rocketed as he was going in the toilet most of the time with no accidents. It was awesome!

We only had a set-back a couple weeks ago when he experienced constipation for the first time, and he developed a fear of going #2 on the toilet. This resulted in him holding it until it was un-holdable, and at the most inconvenient times. One of those times we were playing outside with some friends and I thought he had stepped in some dog doo. I figured I would just clean his shoes once we got home. Well, I got some texts about an appointment I forgot about and was late for. I rushed Paul home to keep my appointment, only to find the inside of his pants and shoes were covered in his own doo. Not fun.

But he is back on track and doing better than ever. It's a great feeling to have that mountain mostly behind us. He seems a lot older now too. :)