(and a little disclaimer about the pictures: I'm having a moment of vanity and feeling super embarrassed about how less than flattering I look in them. I'm a little annoyed that I'm forever preserved for posterity looking like that, but I keep reminding myself, hey, real life right? That's what normal people look like after 8 hours of labor and 3 hours of sleep (I hope).)
Early in my pregnancy I began to worry about just the logistics of going into labor. Peter works an hour away and depending on the time of day, could definitely be stuck in a ton of traffic trying to get home or, worse, stuck on BART. My last labor was only 4 hours and babies tend to come quicker the more you have. We decided that being (safely) induced when the time came would probably be the best bet, so I wouldn't have the baby on my living room floor waiting for BART to get it's act together. Pending doctor approval, I tentatively scheduled my induction for Oct 8th.
The week of was rather nerve-wracking; unsure if my doctor would give me the final go ahead (I had to be progressed a certain amount beforehand for her to feel it was okay), plus lots of random episodes of contractions that felt like maybe she was coming on her own. And I was so over being pregnant. Just completely done. Everything hurt all the time and I was turning into a real grouch! Thankfully, when I went into my weekly appointment I was already at 4cm and 70% effaced, so my doctor had no qualms about inducing me the next morning.
I spent the afternoon trying to finish last minute things, run last minute errands, and make it through super painful contractions that suddenly started. I actually thought I was going to go into labor that night, but they eventually went away (much to my disappointment; you know you've been pregnant for 9 months when you actually welcome labor pains!) Overall, it kinda felt surreal; like I couldn't actually comprehend the fact that I would just have a baby the next day.
The following morning Peter and I loaded up the car, left the kids with Grandma, and headed off to the hospital. Things were very slow at first; the nurse just kinda took her time and chatted with us until she was ready to start pitocin around 9:30am. Everyone, my doctor, the nurse, me, thought this would be a fast induction, baby out around lunch time. However, little girl had other plans.
Peter insisted on the "going to the hospital" picture. I had barely any sleep the night before thanks to contractions and maybe a little anxiety
Things finally settled down and I tried to get a little rest. I thought for sure I was getting close, but the nurse checked and found I was still at a 4! I couldn't believe it. The baby kept wiggling and moving like nothing unusual was going on, which meant she wasn't really engaging the cervix to dilate. About an hour later, I started to feel this bad pain in my left hip, which then spread to my back, and the next thing I knew I was feeling my contractions--hard. The nurse went to go find the anesthesiologist again and I struggled through the pain (I'm a total pain wimp, plus jumping in in the middle is rather difficult). The weird part was I only felt the pain on my left side, while my right was still in pain from being so numbed out. At this point, I hit the wall. The "I don't think I can do this, I'm so discouraged I'm still at a 4 and have eternity to go" wall. It's totally irrational and frustrating but you start to wonder if you can just give up and stop. I started to worry that being induced was the most awful, selfish thing I had ever done and that my baby just wasn't ready to come out. Obviously, not.
Thankfully, the doc came back and gave me "the button." The button that I could push every 10 minutes to give me more meds! It took 4 pushes (so 40 minutes) of painful contractions before they finally subsided and I got back to resting/kinda sleeping. The nurse checked me again and I was maybe a 6. Kinda disappointing, but at least things were starting to move.
labor sure looks awesome, huh?
I started to feel the pressure mounting and it did start to hurt bad; not nearly as bad as with Ellie, but it was still miserable. I would definitely say waiting for everything to be ready to push was way harder and more painful than actually pushing. I kept telling Peter "this hurts so much more than I thought!" It was a little freaky and I began to get scared, just of the unknown I was approaching, but Peter did a great job of keeping me calm and there was no hysteria or screaming like last time, thank goodness!
Finally everything was ready, the doctor broke my water, and I started to push. I only pushed 4 or 5 times and out she came! My first thought: She's so tiny!! They put her right on my chest and I actually had my first emotional "I'm gonna cry" response to having a baby (my last two were not so sentimental, mostly OHMYGOSHTHATWASTHEWORSTTHINGEVER).
And then it was all over. And somehow magically you can't even think about all the pain and frustration and suffering this child put you through the last 9 months of your life, you're just happy and in love. And it just makes no sense that you can't wait to start being sleep deprived and stressed out and binge-eating cookies at 2am because nursing makes you starving. But this little baby is everything and always and you just never want to let go. That, I think, is true love.
These pictures were taken about 20 minutes after birth. She looks so perfect, right?! Apparently, the bag of water kept her head from bearing down and kept her from looking all squished, so even with the slow progress it all worked out in the end!
Meet Lucy Diane Hamilton, born Oct 8th at 5:52pm, 6lbs 11oz, 20 in. My smallest baby and my sleepiest. We all love her so much!
The first thing Eleanor said when she saw the baby, "Baby say my name!" She was very insistent on that.
The kids really loved meeting their sister! They kept wanting to hold her and touch her and just watch her.
Of course, Lucy had to meet the princesses right away.
Hamilton: party of 5
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