So I totally 100% realise I shared one of the boy's birth stories on the previous blog. I just don't remember which boy's it was. So, in celebration of Caleb just turning one, I will share his. If it was his I had shared previously, forgive me, and check back for a blog update about his birthday party. I will post Cole's birth story around his birthday.
Before I begin, this may be graphic. If you do not want to hear about the delivery, birth, etc, than don't read!!!
We had tried so hard for Cole, that when we found out we were pregnant with Caleb we were shocked. Not only had we not tried, but we were trying NOT to have another baby. I knew we wanted more, but I honestly thought that God had given us our one miracle, and we may never get pregnant again. But just in case-we were not ready for another baby. I wanted the timing to be just perfect....or rather, what I thought would be perfect. In true controlling nature, I wanted to space them out more. That being said, it became very apparent that God had other plans. So, we discovered we were pregnant in April, and to be honest, this pregnancy was a lot more difficult. Caleb decided to be stubborn at his appointments, and we were always chasing him to get his heart beat, to discover his sex, to take his measurements. I seemed to get bigger much faster, and always be in pain. Contractions, or rather, braxten hicks started way earlier. I am a person who hates change, and admittedly, struggled with this idea of a new baby way sooner than I planned. Letting go of the control, and realising this was not my plan, but God's plan was so hard for me. We again used the Quinte Midwives, and again planned for a home birth. I had a due date of November 16th, and was praying baby boy would not come November 10th (Allen's Birthday, and I really wanted baby to have his own special day) or November 11th (this is rememberance day, and to top it off, my Papa died on this day in 1990 of Cancer-to me it will always be a sad day). We made all the plans, had a call list, a hospital bag (just in case) and arranged Angie, Allen's sister to watch Cole.
Nov 10th comes, and I feel a slow leak running down my leg. I called my midwife, she checked me and said fluids were still in tact and it must have just been pee. I was not having contractions so she sent me home. I had been diagnosed with Strep B during this pregnancy, so regardless of contractions once my water broke I was to be on antibiotics every four hours to protect babe. So I go home, a little defeated, because honestly, at that stage of the game, you are desperate to meet this little baby you are carrying. I was ready to NOT be pregnant. Nov 11th comes and I have a normal day, a few contractions, but nothing steady. That night as I lay in bed, Allen was massaging my feet, and I was reminding him of all the things we had to do the next day...take out the garbage, clean the kitchen, maybe take Cole to the movies, etc. All of a sudden a huge flood of water in the bed, and I know for sure this was not just pee. I screamed that my water broke, and we both jumped up and looked at our bed. Definetly not pee. Allen called the midwife on his phone, I called Angie on our house phone. We called my sister, my parents, his parents and Jen (one of my very best friends who I had asked to be present at the delivery). We grab the bag and I am literally shaking. Part scared, part excited. At this point, still no contractions, but we know that due to the Strep B, with my water breaking Baby has no choice. We are not working on his schedule...if he does not start moving soon the risk of infection to him will start to sky rocket. He is on a time frame whether he likes it or not. We head to my parents-our designated home birthing spot. We get the antibiotics in me, and I start getting some steady contractions. Its now 11pm and the contractions are happening every few minutes, but only a 4 out of 10 on the pain scale. I know this is only the beginning....I try to rest, but I am far too excited. By midnight my contractions were becoming intense. By 130 they were full blown, every two minutes. The midwife keeps checking me, but no progress. I am stuck at 4cm. She suggests the bath for pain management, hoping that will relax me and I will dilate.
Let me tell you something-if we ever, ever, ever have another baby, I will get in the bath as often as I can. That bath was a Godsend. I never wanted to get out. The pain went from a 10 out of 10, to a 2 out of 10. It worked better than any medication they could have given me. Sadly, it did not help me dilate. At this point the midwife is suggesting a transfer of care. She can't get my next round of antibiotics in because my veins are terrible, I am not progressing, and the baby is starting to get stressed. I had no issues moving to the hospital, but she kept saying when I got to the hospital I could have an epidural. I laid in that bed for an hour fighting with her. Yes, I would go to the hospital. No, I would not have an epidural. And I would not leave until she understood that. Finally she gave in and said fine, we can decide when we get there, I will not push it. And off we went.
We arrive at the Hospital at around 4am, and I am exhausted. I truly thought this would be a quicker delivery than Cole, and its turning out to be longer. So we get there, and instantly the monitors are on trying to find baby. They can't. I am terrified of course, when I faintly hear his heartbeat...I roll over and there he is loud and clear. Due to my "girlish figure" they are struggling to hear his heartbeat unless I am laying on my side, which, for some reason, the Doctor is dead set against. So instantly they decide he needs a scalp clip. Let me tell you, I was dead set against it. Let me do this I say...let me lay on my side...its not hurting anyone. But no, modern science needed to intervene. I was crying, telling them they were hurting my baby. They kept saying he would not feel it, that it does not hurt him...how do they know that? I know they needed to know he was okay, but I wish they would have just let me lay on my side. Anyways, I am in excruciating pain, they offer the epidural, of course I refuse. My fear of needles is greater than my fear of this pain. I can do this. I have done this before, and I know I can do it again. This pain will pass, and a time will come when I will forget how badly this hurts. Every contraction I have brings me one step closer to my son, and it means one less contraction. I am confident in myself, my abilities and my strength. I may scream, cry and swear *Gasp*, but I will deliver this baby, and I will do it naturally. They offer the laughing gas, and I am not going to lie, I sucked that gas back like it was water. It did not lessen the pain, but it did seem to make the contractions shorter. Looking back, I do regret it, because I feel as though I was watching myself give birth from the air...as if I was not in my own body. I feel like I wasn't truly present for Caleb's birth.
Anyways, its now 950 am. I am exhausted. I am in pain. I was checked an hour ago and I am still at 4 cm. I am honestly suprised they have not mentioned a C-Section, but I am not about to mention it! LOL! All of a sudden, I push. I have to push. I know in my gut its time. I get checked, and I am only 8, maybe 9...they tell me not to push, but I honestly could not help it. I truly believe I was not controlling it, Caleb was, and he was coming out whether I was 10 or not. I pushed three times, and there he was. Screaming mad. Blonde haired which had me very puzzled. He was livid! I have never seen a baby so mad. They cleaned him up , and he was on my chest, not screaming anymore, but looking around the room like okay people, was this all really necessary?
Caleb Thomas Charles White
10:00am
8lbs, 10 oz
22 inches long
