Moments of Ruth (and Matthew): February 2022

PREGNANCY

My pregnancy with Rory was a complete surprise. I wasn't ready to have another baby after having such a hard time with Jesse's postpartum and babyhood, and was even debating whether or not I really wanted a fourth child at all, even though I've always wanted four children. I agonized about it, wondering over and over whether I had another pregnancy and postpartum in me, remembering vividly how difficult it had been to go through Jesse's pregnancy and the terrible breastfeeding fiasco that followed in the fourth trimester, which involved a horribly cracked nipple (that took 8 weeks to heal and was so painful that even brushing a bedsheet against it at night would bring me to tears), multiple cases of mastitis, thrush, and lots of pain and crying and sleep deprivation.

I didn't think I was pregnant when my period was late in June. We had recently gone on a vacation to St. George and Jesse and I had dropped a feeding, so I figured my cycle was just recalibrating with all the changes. But then July rolled around and still no period. On July 4, I decided to take a test just to put my mind to rest. It was the first time in my life I ever took a pregnancy test hoping for a negative. I was shocked when the positive line came up right away, very strong. We hadn't been trying at all!

Well, all of my doubts about whether or not or when we would have a fourth went away. We were having a baby! This would be our second gap of 21 months apart (Nancy and David are also 21 months apart). I got nauseous the very next day after taking the pregnancy test, and since I always get nauseous at 6 weeks, guessed that was about how far along I was. I was stressed and not happy at first, but things were definitely getting better as Jesse got older, and I adjusted to the idea, getting through the harder moments by telling myself "this is the last time!" though that also made me sad in a hormonal way. The first thing I did was to wean Jesse, who was 14 months old and still nursing, but only once going down for naptime. It was a big relief to be officially done, which we were on my birthday, when I was 8 weeks pregnant.

It turned out to be a fairly easy pregnancy and went by fast, as pregnancies do when you are taking care of multiple small people at the same time. The first trimester was a lot of nausea, exhaustion, and nonstop peeing, but not much throwing up. The second trimester brought some pelvic pain and I got very worried and depressed, since my pelvic pain and lower back pain had been horrendous with Jesse and lasted almost half of the pregnancy. To try to stave off the pain, I started doing a lot of pelvic floor exercises from videos I found online. That, coupled with regular barre and yoga and weightlifting classes I was taking at the fitness center, really seemed to help me. In fact, by the third trimester, I actually didn't have any pelvic pain and was walking much better than I had been with Jesse, or even with Nancy and David. I still didn't have great energy and got worn out from other things (dun dun dun), but pelvic pain was not nearly as big a deal this time around. Huzzah!

I decided to keep the gender a surprise this pregnancy, but I got a lot of strange impressions throughout which I had never had before with any of my others. I felt strongly that this baby was a lot like Matt, very calm, easygoing, chill, etc. They told me they were a "lucky" baby, optimistic, not a worrier, and were going to be a singer just like Matt. The bigger I grew, the fewer impressions I got, and I wondered if it was all just fanciful or wishful thinking in my own head. Then Baby would nudge me and say something like "I'm here, Mom," or "I'm not going anywhere," and I would feel comforted and reassured. I felt more in tune with this Baby than I had with the others, particularly during labor, but I'll get to that.

June 28, 5 weeks pregnant but had no idea!

My July 4th test

10 weeks

20 weeks

30 weeks

THE PRE-BIRTH STORY

I was worried all pregnancy long about Baby coming too early, and had asked the midwives early on what date I absolutely needed to get to in order to deliver at the birth center. That date? February 7. I could make it that far, right? Or could I... Jesse came at 37 weeks and Nancy came at 39 weeks, so it was a legitimate concern. I was measuring roughly one week ahead at every visit. Then, on Thursday, January 27, at 35 weeks, I woke up at 3:30 AM throwing up and having diarrhea. I was having sporadic, weak contractions and was too nauseous to eat anything. Was this labor? I was panicked that it was. I had an appointment that day anyway at the birth center, so we called my mom to watch the kids and I got Matthew to go in with me. I was shaking and still nauseous, but not really having contractions. They gave me a cervical check and while Baby was "low," the cervix was still high and shut. After three bags of IV fluids, a bath, and some disgusting coconut water, the midwife checked me again. This time, unfortunately, she said it seemed like there were some changes to my cervix. In retrospect, I think my body was very confused to be at the birth center, taking a bath, but not actually in labor, and was doing its best to try to go into labor since we were in the place after all where I had birthed all my children.

Anyway, it was decided that we needed to go to the hospital. I was not coping well with this news and struggling to articulate my feelings or to make logical decisions at this point. I was still shaking, exhausted from going on 1-2 hours of sleep, and feeling like I had been hit by a freight train. We went to the hospital, a very stressful and also strangely boring experience, which will no doubt end up costing us an arm and a leg once we get the bill. The nurse took one look at me and offered to have me go straight to a room while Matthew filled out mountains of paperwork. I was grateful for this, since I was barely able to stand at this point and was trying to wrap my head around the idea that I might end up giving birth at 35 weeks in a hospital, not at all what I had planned. Once in the dark hospital room alone wearing one of those gowns, I tried to calm myself down. I peed. I drank water. I shook. They put belts on me to monitor contractions and monitor Baby. Contractions were weak and sporadic. Baby was "perfect." The nurse gave me a much more rigorous (shall we say) cervical exam which reminded me of what it felt like to have an IUD placed. It was not pleasant at all. However, afterwards, she told me the good news, which was that I was definitely not in labor and that I would not be having the baby today. Then I got a shot of steroids to speed up Baby's lung development and was told I needed to stay for an hour of monitoring.

I was so wound up that it was very hard for me to stay still on the bed for an entire hour. I forced myself to do it, in the end, and once I was covered up in a warm blanket and doing my breathing exercises on my left side, moving as little as possible, I finally stopped shaking. That's when I finally was able to calm down. All signs of labor slowly died down. The nausea was still holding on, but finally I felt like I could stomach some broth, some Gatorade, some Ensure. They discharged us from the hospital and I drank all the fluids I could handle when we got home and took Benadryl and went to sleep for a solid 5-6 hours. When I woke up, the nausea was gone and the contractions were gone. I felt much better and my appetite returned. It was just a stomach flu! I could still deliver at the birth center!

However, now I was terrified of labor coming on at any moment, and so I did as little as possible to aggravate my stomach or that might stress my body out. I relied heavily on Ensure for the next two weeks, and stayed in bed as much as I could. Once the stomach flu was gone, I got a cough and a sore throat (it was probably COVID, although I never got a positive test), which would come and go and come and go for the next - um, actually it's still happening, and this is close to four weeks later. I felt sore and achy and tired. I was lucky enough that I was able to work from home. I rested a lot. I bought a subscription to Hulu (best decision ever). So. Much. Ensure.

This went on, with me having days where I felt strong and like I would make it all the way through February, and other days where I worried that I would go into labor so fast we wouldn't even make it to the hospital. Finally, we reached February 7. It was a huge relief to me to make it this far, but I was still anxious because we hadn't done the GBS test yet. My appointment was scheduled for Feb 7 to do the test, but it was cancelled at the last minute because of a birth. We rescheduled for February 10. I could make it to February 10...right?

34 weeks

at the hospital at 35 weeks, worried that I was having the baby

THE BIRTH STORY

When I got out of bed at 9:30 AM on Wednesday, February 9, I felt fluid run down my legs and realized my underpants were soaked. I had just woken up from an unusual but lovely stretch of 6 hours and now had to start trying to wrap my head around the idea that I was on the clock to have this baby within 48 hours (actually, the midwives told it me it was 72 hours). I was hugely grateful that I had had a great night's rest to start off my knowledge that I was going into labor probably today. That was the first gift Rory gave me in this labor story.

At 11 AM I called the midwives, took in a sample to confirm it was my amniotic fluid (it was), and discussed plans. Because I was again just barely 37 weeks, we hadn't yet administered the GBS test, but we did it right then and sent the test to the lab.

I was not having contractions at all. Maybe one an hour, so mild they hardly registered. However, I was immediately nauseous and didn't eat the entire day, instead drinking water, Gatorade, Pedialyte, chicken broth, and Ensure to stay hydrated and keep up my energy. I went "into myself," as you hear pregnant women say a lot, meaning I listened hard to my body and its needs and did whatever I felt like I needed to do. I peed a lot. I walked a little bit in my backyard. I lay down and tried to nap. I watched TV. I leaked fluid all day. I tried to prepare mentally for when the contractions would be painful by reminding myself I needed to surrender to them and not fight them. Mentally, this is the hardest part of labor for me, accepting and letting the contraction take over your body.

At 4:30 PM I began to have bloody show. A lot. Bright red. The change was exciting and encouraging, but contractions were still so mild. So far apart. So not even close to active labor. From my past experiences, I thought there was no way we could go to the birth center until I was actually having painful contractions. We were all hoping they would pick up naturally in the evening, but at the rate things were progressing, I was getting ready to face the fact I might have another sleepless night of labor ahead.

I updated the midwives and they decided it would be wise to come in that evening at 7 PM for a round of antibiotics just in case I went into labor. We still didn't know the GBS test results and wouldn't for 24 hours, so it couldn't hurt, right? At 5 PM I sent Matthew and the kids off to the pool while I puttered around at home. I tried cleaning up some toys and doing other chores and just moving around to get the contractions going. This started a few and I started to time them at about 5:15 even though they were still very mild and easy to breathe through.

At 6:30 Matt's sister Katie came to watch our kids so we could make the appointment. I was having contractions but trying to encourage them to get bigger, so I began practicing my birth positions and noises. Nancy thought I sounded hilarious. The contractions were very manageable and I didn't need any help from Matthew, so I figured I was probably somewhere between a 2 and a 4.

We left for the center around 7 and I had a long (1:30) contraction in the car. The longest, hardest one I'd had yet and while I couldn't get comfortable in the car. I was encouraged but also annoyed that it had to happen in the freaking car.

When we climbed out of the car, I could tell my walk was slower than before and I was having to breathe and stop now for the contractions. However, they still didn't seem that painful, so I felt like things were early, not yet to the point of active labor.

The midwives immediately asked if I'd be okay with a cervical check first, and I agreed, still thinking I'd be at a 2, or best case, a 4. When she said, "You're effaced 90% and dilated to an 8," I was floored.

I couldn't believe it. I repeated it over and over again, as it really dawned on me that not only was I in active labor, but I was almost in transition and the baby was going to be here soon. Matthew said he knew at that point we weren't going home. The midwives immediately sprang into action, filling up the tub and taking all kinds of notes on the situation.

At 7:30 PM I felt the first real contraction, one I actually needed Matthew's help to get through. By 7:40 I was in the bathtub (the same one I gave birth to Nancy in!), trying hard to find a comfortable position and failing. After each contraction, I drank Gatorade and I peed. I was so uncomfortable and starting to get scared about being in this much discomfort for a long amount of time. A few things that helped: one midwife told me to reach inside and feel the head, and I did and it was there and closer than it had been before! Another one of the midwives told me I was so uncomfortable because "on the other side of the discomfort is your baby." After a couple of hard contractions in uncomfortable positions, I couldn't take it in the tub any more. I was disappointed because I wanted a water birth, but I knew I needed to stand up. Once I stood up, my body instinctively leaned forward and I suddenly knew I was going to poop. The next contraction was indeed poop, but also brought that giant big full feeling of a baby's head and body moving down the birth canal. I had forgotten what that felt like, but was immediately reminded. Oh yeah, this is what that feels like! I knew then that Baby was one or two more pushes away. I screamed with this contraction and all the midwives closed in around me. I found this strangely funny, like I was controlling them with my voice. Then I sat back down in the water and they retreated. This was Rory's second gift to me, that I did get to have a water birth (and the shortest of all my labors!).

In 2 giant pushes (which I hate calling pushes because I never feel the urge to push; instead, I have to hold it back until the skin stretches and just wait for the contraction to do the pushing), out he popped. (My phone tried to autocorrect that to "out he pooped," which is funny and accurate.) I could feel his head starting to come before I was ready and I felt that "ring of fire" feeling and immediately pulled back from it and begged him to wait just a little bit. And he did, giving me a few more seconds of pause to stretch and wait for the contraction to do the pushing. It was the easiest delivery I've ever had, and once again I knew with absolute certainty that I had not torn. Rory's third gift to me. No stitches, no tearing!

He was born at 8:07 PM in the exact same tub as Nancy after less than an hour of me realizing I was in active labor. Everything about his birth was how I would have chosen it and I couldn't believe what a surreal, quick, and almost pain-free labor it had been.

I was incredibly surprised he was a boy, and am still processing that I have a girl and three boys, never the family dynamic I pictured. However, he is 100% the sweet, gentle, mild, chill personality I connected with while pregnant. My chillest babe by far. He sleeps the longest of any of my kids (who never slept well even as newborns), sucks on everything we give him, didn't cry once at either one of his heel-pricks, and is just an incredible sweetheart. His name came to me in the middle of the first night, and it was one final surprise, since it hadn't been one of our top names, but I felt immediately, confidently, "His name is Rory."

He is my smallest baby, but has the most hair, and it looks dark. His facial features are still forming, but he looks like Matthew and my father-in-law to me. I love him and I'm so glad he's here.