My fair lady...the whole story

Phoebe Grace

Here are a bunch of photos from our hospital stay (or, as Lucy called it, the "baby hotel") -- followed by my birth story for those who want to read it.

The day before Phoebe was born...in early labor, but clueless

Right after the birth...in shock!

Family picture right after the birth

Resting in our room

Goldilocks

With Nonno

With Nonni and Nonno

Three generations

With Grammy

Lucy meeting her little sister for the first time

Very curious

We are now 1-2-3-4!

Going home outfit

I'm going home today! And it's Valentine's Day!

Happy family

Me and my girls :)

Mommy and her baby

The story...

The story begins on Thursday, February 7. That morning, I had my 39-week doctor's appointment. She told me I was dilated 3cm and could go into labor at any time. To try to get things going, she stripped my membranes. From the appointment onward, I started having very irregular contractions -- they were painful but not too bad and were sporadic. I figured that labor was near but not imminent. On Monday morning (Feb. 11) I went back to my doctor for a check -- and I was dilated to 4cm. That is a lot! I had figured that maybe this would be the case because of all the contractions I had over the weekend. I was prepared to plead my case for an induction, but I didn't need to -- she said that because my labor could start so quickly, she wasn't comfortable with me staying pregnant much longer. So we put an induction into the books for the following morning. At that point, she said it was 50/50 I would go into labor on my own that night anyway. The best advice she had was to get someone to come here to be with Lucy because she didn't think I would have time for someone to get here once things got going. She wasn't kidding at all when she mentioned that it was very cold out and thus it would not be optimal for me to deliver a baby in the car on the way to the hospital.

I went home and my mother-in-law came to watch Lucy while we scurried around getting things together...my last opportunity to nest before the big arrival. I started to have more regular contractions, but they weren't that close together and still were not all that painful. I could still talk through them...though some would argue that I can talk through anything, so I guess that's not a good indicator! At around 8pm, my parents arrived to stay overnight. Lucy went to sleep and Jeff and I hung out in bed watching Dexter on tv. I was ok through the first episode we watched from 10-11, but I did feel the need to start writing down the times I had contractions. Looking back now, I can firmly put this into the "what was I thinking not going to the hospital?" category. The contraction times are still on a pad of paper next to my bed, as follows:

10:16, 10:24, 10:31, 10:42, 10:52, 11:00, 11:11

(Still, I refused to believe I was in real labor. Yes, duh. I am stupid.)

At 11:30, I was feeling pretty achy and tired, so I turned over to try to get some sleep. The contractions kept going and I kept track of them in my head. Jeff said that he was doing the same. At just around midnight, I started to think that maybe I should start to formally record the contraction times again. At 12:09, I had a pretty bad one and thought...ok, maybe we should think about going to the hospital. Just then, I felt something very different. Not a kick, not a contraction. And I knew what it was. About 2 seconds later, my water broke. Ok, now it was time to go!

We got dressed in a flash and got out the door. Now the "fun" really began. The car ride to the hospital can best be described as one giant contraction. I think maybe I had 5-10 seconds between each one. I didn't know if I wanted Jeff to drive quickly so that we could get there, or slowly so that we wouldn't hit any bumps. Thankfully, there was zero traffic and we were able to fly on the highway and we made it to the hospital in record time. At one point in the car I really felt the urge to push -- I am SO glad that I did not! When we got to the hospital I was beyond in agony. They brought me a wheelchair and I shouted obscenities through the lobby, up the elevator, and into the labor and delivery unit. I remember shouting "it's an emergency!" so that they would not stop to check me in or anything like that. When we got into a room, I told them I needed an anesthesiologist, but the doctor checked me and said I was fully dilated. No time for an epidural. They had me start to push right away. I was still cursing and yelling...it was like something out of a movie...the type of movie where your mother tells you that birth isn't really like that, etc. But it was for me! The nurse told me that I had to be quiet and hold my breathe to push. So I decided that my obscenity-shouting, though cathartic, was not going to help matters and that the quickest way to get this process done would be to shut up and push with all my might. And that's what I did. And three pushes later, out she came. They put her on my chest right away and the first thing I noticed was the full head of very blonde hair. It made the experience even more surreal because I really thought this baby would have dark hair like mine. We knew immediately that Phoebe Grace was the right name for her.

I have to say, in the end I am glad that I got to experience an unmedicated childbirth. It really was a gift, just in strange and painful packaging! I actually have a newfound respect for my own body and what it can do and I feel pretty powerful. And it was so nice to recover from a birth without an i.v. lock in my arm. Phoebe, so far, is such a sweet little girl who just loves to nurse and be held. Lucy, so far, is an amazing big sister who is in love with her little sister and constantly asks to hold her, "pet" her, kiss her, etc. She is starting to learn that Phoebe's "little noises" are ok (Lucy is very sensitive about anyone being not "ok"). And so far, no real jealousy -- though I am sure it will rear its head before too long. For now, we are enjoying our first moments home as a family of four and we are feeling very, very blessed.