Our Birth Story

I know “birth stories” are a dime a dozen, but here’s another one. Why? Because I worked extra hard for this one, you better believe it.

Photo Credit: Erica Kirby Photography

On August 13th, 2018, we went to the doctor for what seemed like the 42nd time in two weeks with high hopes that I (and by “I,” I mean my stubborn cervix) had made some progress. I was 39 weeks pregnant and beyond miserable. Also, it was mid August in the South, y’all. Feel for me, but feel for my husband more. LORD.

Our sweet doctor came into the room with that smile on her face like “I know you hate everything and everyone right now,” she was dead on. She then proceeded with the super fun pelvic check and sighed. JUST WHAT I WANTED TO HEAR. “Well it’s softening,” she said. Long story short, we were induced that night at 5pm. Why? Because I couldn’t take it any longer and they were certain my baby was going to be around 10 pounds. I’m 5’3” and my husband is 6’4”, good times.

So we’re in the hospital, drugs administered, laying around waiting for some action. They told me I could eat before midnight so naturally I ate some Chick Fil A. I ate it all but two nuggets, my nerves were all over the place. My parents and husband stayed in the room with me that night, my parents on the floor and hubby on the bed/couch contraption. I woke up around 3am STARVING. All I could think about was those two nuggets in the trash can. If I could have gotten up, you already know. There was no shame in my game. I brought some saltine crackers in my purse (is that normal?), and needed them desperately. I whisper yelled to my husband, nothing. Dead asleep. I whisper yelled to my Mom, nothing. Also, dead asleep. I thought I could hit them with a pillow and hopefully wake them up, but what if they didn’t wake up? Then I would be out my precious pillows. Finally I whisper yelled enough that my husband woke up and begrudgingly retrieved them for me, he was tired, bless his heart.

So the morning time rolled around, 0600 on the dot, a nurse comes in to check me and I had made “some” progress. We played cards, kept track of how many people commented on my super cute, patterned hospital gown (my husband thought I was being way too extra, jokes on him), watched tv and visited with friends. Contractions were happening, I had a hand held fan that was my best friend and I had to pee about every 15 minutes or so. The contractions were happening regularly but still no progress. I was hungry and tired and trust me when I say, when I am either of those things, you don’t want to be in my line of sight.

The nice nurse said “Do you plan on having an epidural?” HELL TO THE YES, I DO. That happened around 9:00pm on Tuesday night. Now up until this point, I had dreaded that damn needle in my back. I was scared, shaking and massive. “Curl your back like a mad cat!” Yeah, ok buddy, do you see this beachball in front of me? Two pokes later, I was numb.

Resting and waiting, they broke my water at 2:30am on Wednesday morning, that’s 24 hours without food people and I’ve had every popsicle on that floor just for documenting sake. Fast forward 14 hours, the doctor came in and said it was time to call it. “We need to take her.” I had a fever and her heart rate was all over the place.

Let me give you some background on me real quick. I didn’t get my blood drawn until I was 30. Why? Because I have had a phobia my entire life. I had my wisdom teeth taken out when I was 23, that’s the only kind of surgery I have ever had. So you can imagine what my brain did when they told me I was about to be cut open WHILE I WAS AWAKE. I cried my eyes out but pulled myself together knowing that it was time to MOM UP.

Penelope Elizabeth was born on August 15th at 5:14pm. She was perfect and worth every bit of it.

Since then I’ve been welcomed into the Mom club and learning it all the hard way as I normally tend to do.

What was your birth like? Was it dreamy and went according to plan? Did you do drugs or take the natural route? I read every “birth story” blog I could get my hands on because I NEEDED to know the details. I needed to prepare myself for every possible scenario and pain. Now, hopefully my story can give some scared to death mama to be some relief in that it’s doable and you can do anything in that moment because you have to boo- boo.

Cheers, Lana.