Birth Story Pt 2

Here is the part one of the birth day.

Now we are on on to part two- where all the excitement begins.

I should also mention that I asked my Grammie if she would be there on the delivery day to take pictures for us. 

Nothing too graphic, just everything leading up to the birth and then the details right after- cutting of the cord, holding her for the first time, getting weighed etc, etc. 

Little did I know I would be getting both National Geographic shots and the other details, but I am so thankful for these photos, nonetheless!

There will be no pictures in this post until the end, but trust me- it's for your own good and it's worth it!

So I begin pushing.

And pushing.

And pushing.

And getting frustrated.

And more frustrated.

And more frustrated.

All those smiles that I had the whole day were quickly disappearing at that point.

That is, until I was pushing and farting.

Yeah, that's how mature I am.

Every time I would push and fart I would mess it all up because I would start laughing. 

Mature, I know.

This is where I wasn't a huge fan of the epideral. I am thankful that I didn't feel hours and hours of painful contractions because I am sure I would have been completely exhausted when it came time to push. I was thankful that the epidural had worn off enough that I was able to feel when a contraction was coming and when I needed to push, but I wasn't able to tell if I was making any progress or even if I was really pushing or pushing right.

To be honest, the only way I could tell I was pushing and pushing correctly was when I was farting!

Hey, they tell you to push like you're pooping..it's bound to happen!

And for the record, I never pooped on the table. 

Of course at this point, with the occasional chuckles at my passing of gas, all modest is so far out the window. I don't even know where it is. 

I continue pushing, I got into the groove, my epideral continued to wear off and they were telling me I was doing great.

They could see her head, they could see her hair and they asked if I wanted the mirror.

I didn't.

They thought it would help me and I would enjoy it.

So I gave it a shot.

I hated it. 

Not because it was too gory or gross, but because in my head I was thinking I was making way more progress than I was. 

When they said they could see her head....we are talking like the size of a quarter.

I was picturing the head. 

Not her cowlick. 

So I quickly told them to take that away, that I was doing better thinking I was nearing the end.

It was starting to get more painful {duh} and you know how previously I stated I didn't like that the epidural was allowing me not to feel my pushing very well...well, at this point in the game, I was ready for an overdose of that stuff. 

I was kind of wishing I had clicked the trigger throughout the day. At least once or twice!

I started pushing at 8:15 by 10:15 the Dr tells me there's about 30 minutes left.

The past two hours actually went by fairly fast so I knew this next 30 minutes would fly by.

Let me tell ya, these last 30 minutes were the worst.

It's the part that I am still trying forget about. 

First of all, "ouch" would be a complete understatement. 

Second of all, the ring of fire is no joke and much much more than a Johnny Cash song.

This was the most painful thing in my entire life.

Up until this point I was doing really well, there were times when I was a tiny bit snippy {I prefer the word focused}, but I was still able to smile, joke, laugh at my farts and talk.

But no more.

This was all out the window with my modesty somewhere.

Around 10:20 I started feeling sick.

So not only are we lingering in the ring of fire waiting for contractions but now my nausea kicks in. 

Well, for those of you have been following my pregnancy you know that I have been throwing up the whole time. Since 6 weeks. Throwing up once a week, sometime multiple times a day for 33 straight weeks. 

So of course I can't end my pregnancy without doing so. It just wouldn't be complete.  It would be wrong.

Unfortunately they didn't find a puke bucket fast enough and I got sick. 

In their defense it verrry quickly turned from "I feel sick" to "here it comes!"

Not only did I get sick- I got sick with my hand over my face. Laying down. 

It goes a little something like this:

hand over mouth + laying down=throw up to go

- on my face, on my gown and all in my hair. 

Because, you know, the whole legs wide open-bleeding-farting thing going on wasn't glamorous enough.

At that point I thought I had died. 

Both the nurse and my mom were wiping down my hair and face with wet cloths and all I could see was the bright light above me.  It felt like an ER scene in a movie, ha! {hmm too much TV for me maybe?}

So I get sick, dry heave, the whole shebang, meanwhile there's a baby head half way out my woo-hoo.

I get a new gown, and thankfully, as unfortunate as that whole incident was, it ended being a good refresher and refocus for me. 

This was the final stretch. 

And the most painful thing of my entire life.

Oh, I said that that I already?

Well it really was. 

Oh. my. goodness.

Hard to believe it is something so natural because in the moment it certainly doesn't feel like it.

It got a little scary towards the end, I needed to slow down my pushing {which is really hard!} because the cord was wrapped around her neck. We were actually worried about that when we saw our 3D ultrasound because it looked like she was wearing a scarf! This part didn't phase me too much because I was in too much pain and too focused on getting her out- she just told me when to stop pushing, I never really knew the cord was around her neck until after. 

The Dr. was right on about the time and by 10:36 Adalyn arrived!

Apparently, she came out looking a little blue and both my mom and Mr. B were a little nervous.

{Again, something I'm glad I didn't know or see}

She quickly gained color, cried her sweet little cry for about 10 seconds and they placed her on me.

On my face. 

Bloody. 

I was trying really hard to soak in the moment, but I'm not gonna lie- I was a little grossed out. 

I did a good job hiding that, huh? Ha!

Then I realized I shouldn't look quite so grossed out by my own child..

I wasn't kidding, see the blood on my cheek?

My mom was quick to wipe it up for me so I wouldn't have it for the rest of the pictures. 

Thanks, mom!

Mr. B was in tears right away.

{Making me look bad, but the whole bloody face thing threw off my tears}

I still couldn't believe what just happened and how painful that was.

Shortly after all of that Mr. B cut her cord.

She had the longest fingers and monkey toes. 

She weighed in at 7.9 and was 21" inches tall and her head was 14" in diameters.

We were both overflowing with love and marveling at her cuteness.

She was so alert and stayed awake for a few hours

The delivery was extra special AND history making because this is the same Dr who delivered me 24 years ago. I was the first one that she delivered that she also delivered for.

 I was so blessed to be surrounded by such awesome family. 

Mama Grace & Mr. B were great coaches- even though my mom's counting changed octaves due to her excitement and it annoyed me. 

My Grammie took wonderful pictures to document such an important day- some a little graphic and I have no idea what to do with them, but they are amazing and I am so so thankful for them.

First family photo

4 generations 

Papa G and Mr. B's family were troopers waiting around all day. 

Proud dad{s}

Proud grandpas.

It was a long day,  9:30am-10:36pm, but worth every.single. minute. 

We are so very blessed. 

This guy amazed me.

I saw a whole other side to him those few days in the hospital that I had never seen before.

And I know I will have a lot more of those moments in the near future.