40 weeks. Leo's birth story

It's funny how after you've done something once you decide that the second time will be the exactly the same.  It never is, so why do we seem so surprised when the experience doesn't mirror the first?  This isn't the forum to answer that question.  What I do know is that my sweet second baby was telling me from day one in utero that he is not his brother.  My first experience with pregnancy and delivery was beautiful and perfect, my second experience was different but somehow just as perfect and beautiful.  I am not just saying that, it was better than I could have dreamed.  Let me tell you about it.

It was a Saturday.  May 16th to be exact and I was 39 weeks and 6 days pregnant.  When I hit the 39 week mark I was confused and surprised I was still pregnant.  My first pregnancy had gone to exactly 39 weeks and I assumed this pregnancy would be the same, if not earlier.  Wrong.  Thirty-nine weeks came and went and I was growing bigger and impatient.  The waiting game for delivery is the hardest part of the whole pregnancy for me.  Every day after 38 weeks I would wonder if it would happen that day.  I would clean my floors, make sure every dish was washed, clothes were cleaned, beds had fresh linens, toilets would sparkle and then I wouldn't have my baby only to go through the same routine over and over.  I became slightly obsessed with making sure everything was clean and perfect.  I even broke my own, one day a week, laundry rule to make sure the dirty clothes didn't pile up.  Never mind cleaning up after the busiest toddler I have ever met and trying to ENJOY every last second I had alone with him. I was exhausted.

Back to Saturday.  I had declared on Friday evening that I would have the baby that weekend.  I just knew it.  Besides my due date was Sunday. Plus, my doctor was on call this weekend and I really needed her so maybe if I said it aloud it would actually happen.  I woke up Saturday morning still pregnant and praying I wasn't wrong.  While Ben got ready to head to a Saturday morning workout I weighed the pros and cons of going to the gym as well.  I sent him on his way to the early morning class and announced that he may, or may not, see me in an hour.  I was uncomfortable, tired and figured I wasn't going to get much fitter at this point.  But the pros of moving this baby out of me, feeling strong and getting moving out weighed my tiredness.  I dressed and headed in.  The workout was no joke,  I cut out a few movements though.

5 Rounds for Time: 20 KB swings, 20 SDHP, 20 Wall Balls, 20 Ring Dips

The part that I did not do was a partner carry run to flip a tire and run back.  I didn't feel bad about that, I mean I had done a partner carry for about 10 straight months now! The whole workout a felt a little on the verge of throwing up.  I had to stop to break a few times and I almost wondered if I would make it to the end.  This wasn't a normal feeling for me, I wasn't even working as hard as I could have, but I didn't want to give more.  I finished the workout and sat on the floor to stretch and try not to puke my guts out.  I chatted with friends and Ashley let me know that I had the "you're about to have a baby look".  I sure hoped so!

I headed home with no contractions or baby in sight.  We cleaned up the house, did yard work, I had my nails done and then headed to a party with Jess and her family at their church.  Max and the kiddos got to ride in the tractors and play in the dirt.  Afterward, we played at the playground.  Someone had told me once that swinging induces labor.  I am not sure how much truth that holds, but I swung on the swings as we chatted away.

It was a nice evening and as it started to creep closer to dinner time I was feeling great and wondered if I had been wrong all together about having a baby this weekend.  We decided to go have some dinner.  The night before I had Max we had gone out for Chinese food for Ben's birthday.  That restaurant was kind of gross and we didn't feel like going back there, but figured Chinese food was worth a try so we headed to our favorite place.  Dinner was nice, Max was perfect and we enjoyed our food.  As we were walking out they gave us fortune cookies and the sweet hostess said I was way too small to be due the next day. Bless her.
When we got into the car I opened my fortune:

Ben and I laughed and laughed!! PERFECT!  Having a baby would be the perfect unusual thing to do! Let's get the party started.

By the time we got home I started to feel a little sick.  It wasn't the food, but it wasn't exactly like I had felt when I went into labor with Max either.  About an hour after we were home (about 7:30pm) while we were getting Max ready for bed I started having contractions.  They were short and not super painful, but I knew they were real.  I told Ben to get his stuff together, we would probably need to go in tonight. This was best case scenario.  I new my doctor was on call this weekend and I prayed and prayed that when the babe decided to come she would be there to help me.
 I put Max to bed that night.  As we rocked in his chair the reality of everything hit me like a ton of bricks.  The next bedtime we spent together he would be a brother.  He would need to share his mama.  I would need to share my time.  I cried as he lay his head on my chest knowing this time we spent one-on-one together would come to an end, but knowing he and his brother would be the kind of companions I could only dream about.  I soaked in all the snuggles I could. Only 30 minutes later the contractions were pretty intense. So much that I suddenly took back every last word I had said about wanting to have a baby and immediately wanted to stay pregnant forever.  I told Ben when that first real painful contraction hits it truly makes you second guess how you'll ever handle getting the baby out. It hurt.  I texted Bethany to let her know it was getting real, but I still had no idea how long they would last.  She was going to photograph it for me.  We put Max to bed and by 10pm called Jody to come up and stay at our house so she could be with Max when we left for the hospital.

I showered and prepared as much as I could.  Ben showered and lay on the bed.  We wondered if we should sleep?  It was so foreign to go into labor at night.  We decided to wait until midnight to go to the hospital.  I didn't want to be sent home, and well.... why pay for an extra day at the hospital?    I laid on the bed winced and breathed through every contraction.  Ben lay next to me timing the contractions on my phone.  I've done this twice now where I feel like, "I'm ok, I'm ok,,,, it'll be a while" then suddenly it's like, "Whoa NELLY... baby coming! Get to hospital immediately!!" Around 1am we decided it was go time.

Grammy was at our house to care for Max who was having a hard time sleeping.  There was a lot of commotion around the house and I while I tried to explain what was happening, I am sure more than anything he sensed the change coming.  It hurt my heart to leave him.  I went in, kissed him one last time and we were off.  We drove the truck.  I find that significant only because my pregnant, contracting self had a helluva time getting in and Ben had to help hoist me up.  On the way to the hospital I called my Mom to let her know we were headed in.  She noted that I sounded like I was in pain.  I was, very much.

We parked and headed into the hospital.  Tears and pain and nerves were getting the best of me.  My hands shook and I felt more scared than I anticipated.

We got to the check in desk and I held it together, let them know why we were there and they led me back to a room.  To "check" me they said.  To "see" if I could stay.  I winked at Ben, "OH I WAS STAYING" I told them.  I was dilated 6cm.  I was about 80% effaced and my water was bulging real good.  My water hasn't broken on it's own for either babies.  I wonder if it ever will.

I was group StrepB positive.  I knew that.  They would need to administer 4 hours of antibiotics.  FOUR HOURS!!! I had hoped I was too far along that they would magically find a way to give antibiotics faster so we could skip the 4 hour IV part.  No such luck.  The nurse explained that if my water was broken, or broke during the administration, then they wouldn't do anything to stop labor and they would deliver the baby.  But - if my water didn't break on it's own then they wouldn't break it until the antibiotics were given.  So I was to sit there for 4 hours and contract while I had an IV.  I contemplated as I breathed through my pain.  "I see you had your baby natural last time, are you going to do the same thing this time or have an epidural?" the nurse asked.  Ah, the dreaded question.  Honestly, I still didn't know.... would I, wouldn't I?? Every day my thoughts changed and every day I prayed that when the time came I would know the right thing to do. "Well," I started in "that's a good question.  My problem is that I really need to feel in control of my body.  I need to feel this pain, but your telling me I need to feel it for 4 hours.  I think that might kill me.  The real problem is though, last time I had a baby I pushed him out so quickly that I had a 4th degree tear and I am terrified that it will happen again.  So, I don't know exactly.  I would love to talk to an Anesthesiologist and ask my questions and see how they can help me. Can I do that?" By this point I had decided in my head that I would probably have the epidural assuming the Anesthesiologist didn't say anything that completely turned me off or rubbed me the wrong way.

By this time Bethany had arrived and was ready to party with Ben and I for the long haul.  Can I just pause for a minute and tell you how grateful I am to have her offering her experience and expertise at the births of both my boys.  And of course her final product in the form of photos to re-live the moment makes the experience so magical.

The Anesthesiologist arrived quickly.  I mean, it was 2am.  She walked in the room ready to answer all my questions.  She was knowledgeable, patient and kind.  She explained to me all the options, the benefits and the risks.  She let me talk through my hesitancy without trying to persuade me either way.  I asked if she could do a light epidural.  My reservation with an epidural was that I wanted to feel in control of my body.  I wanted to feel the pain that came with each contraction, but I wanted to be able to bear it for hours.  I wanted to be sure that I would feel the birth of my baby, I wanted to be able to control the pushing and level at which I would push.  I needed to know I wouldn't lose that ability.  She offered a lighter version of her lightest epidural.  She assured me that I would still be able to feel and if it got to a point where I was feeling too much and in too much pain she could come back and adjust.  She also offered me a device that would allow me to give more medication if the pain was too much.  I liked her plan and agreed to the epidural.

Bethany had to leave the room for the epidural and Ben had to sit, masked, in a chair in front of me.  It's a scary thing to think of someone inserting something into your spine.  The risk is real, but then, there is risk in everything we do as mothers. I didn't look at the needle.  She told me I would feel a sensation on my spine and to try as hard as I could to hold still and not jump. They waited through a contraction then I felt the sensation, then a pinch and warmth in my back.  It didn't hurt but it wasn't exactly comfortable either.  She taped the tiny tube to my back and asked me not to move around too much.

I'll tell you now that everything I was hooked up to was the worst part of my delivery.  With my first delivery I wasn't hooked up to anything.  I was cord, IV and blood pressure cuff free.  I was free to move as I chose and nothing was jabbing into my skin.  This time, that was not the case,  Between the IV, epidural, blood pressure cuff and finger pulse monitor I felt like a sitting vital machine and it drove me bananas.  Every time my nurse walked in I asked if I still needed the bp cuff and pulse. Every time she said yes I would sigh and assured her I was healthy.  I am sure I drove her crazy, but the machines drove me crazy!! A couple times I went rogue and took them off when no one was looking.  Then the bp cuff would fill up and try to take my pressure. Obviously I couldn't get it back on in time and it would beep and try to fill up again and beep.  We would laugh and laugh.  I mean, there isn't much to do at 3am and the exhausted delirium started to creep it's way in.  Worst patient ever.

During the beginning stages of my epidural my right side started to go numb and my left side was completely normal.  My nurses were awesome and explained that sometimes you just have to help the medicine head in the right direction.  They placed me on my right side and lifted my left leg into a stirrup.  I looked like a clown, but it directed the medicine into the right spot and everything evened out nicely.  I was quite pleased with the level of epidural.  I could definitely feel my contractions.  Bethany and I would watch them on the monitor and I would compare the severity of the monitor to how I felt.  Some were worse than others, but I felt them all.  Perfect.

Dr. Dunnam arrived before 4am.  I cannot begin to tell you how relieved I was that she was going to deliver my babe.  She delivered Max.  She is my doctor and she knows my history.  The tearing, the recovery.  She was with me through both pregnancies and I wanted her with my through this delivery.  She knew my goals and my fears and it was truly a blessing straight from heaven that I went into labor while she was working.  My mind eased just knowing she would be there.  She checked me.  I was dilated 10cm and ready to have that baby.  The baby's head was pushing against my water and it was bulging pretty seriously, but my water was staying strong and I had 2 more hours of antibiotics. TWO more HOURS!  I couldn't see this process lasting that long. It did.  Every one told me to get some sleep.  "I am having a baby people!!!" I couldn't sleep.  I was too excited and nervous to sleep.  Ben tried to rest on the fake couch on the side of my bed.  He was freezing and vowed next time we have a baby he would wear flannel lined jeans.  Bethany and I chatted and laughed.  I ran the entire spectrum of emotions from excited, to exhausted, giggly, to emotional and in pain.  Just when I would think Ben was sleeping I would say something crazy (like listing ways a person could break their own water) he would pipe in with his logic and remind me to put my bp cuff back on.

When I think back to that moment, laying in a hospital bed, knowing my body was expanding and preparing for a baby to be born a small chill runs down my spine.  I can't explain the emotions exactly as you are laying there, feeling exposed and vulnerable with enough time to think about the possibility of something going wrong and enough faith to know that the details are out of your control and God has his hand completely in this. I play those vulnerable, faith-filled pleading moments back in my head from time to time.  Those are the feelings I want to cherish, those blessed pit-in-my-stomach, giddy-excited happy, nervous moments preparing to meet MY baby - moments.  They are beautiful.

Somehow the 2 hours actually passed.  Around 5:30am a light buzz started in my room with people bringing in tools and nurses warming the baby bed.  GO TIME!  The doctor came in and told me she was going to break my water and that we would have a baby soon.  They got my bed ready and at 5:40 she broke my water.  Ohhhh boy!  Aside from feeling like a warm water balloon broke inside of me and leaked everywhere I could literally feel the baby begin to engage.  I felt excitement and panic sweep over my body.  The pain was intense, let me say that again... the pain was intense.  So intense that I forgot I had an epidural at all. I braced myself with my hands on the sides of the bed and squeezed so hard my fingers hurt. Instead of letting my body push I tried to hold everything in.  I was scared.  So scared.  I didn't want to tear, I didn't want to fail, I wanted it all to stop,  In a period of a few seconds fear stole all my excitement.  I looked at Ben.  "I can't do this. I don't think I can do this!!" I repeated over and over.  He looked at me, kissed my forehead and said, "You can do this.  We both know you can do this."

"Amber, the baby is ready.  We need you to push" said the doctor.  "Puuush" they said. (Who is they?  I am not sure.... the doctor, a couple nurses.  It seems right as I started to deliver the room filled with medical faces. Most who appeared and then disappeared as quickly as they appeared.) I bore down and gave a little grunt.  "Amber, you didn't push" said the doctor.  I knew that.  I was pretending.  Pretending is a bad word, but it's the only one I can think of to describe that moment.  I knew I was supposed to push but I was scared.  Pushing really did a number on me last time.  I looked at Ben.  His eyes said I could do this.  I knew I could do this.  "Okay, I need to know what level to push.  Give me a number."  "TEN", yelled the nurse. "Are you SUURE???" I said.  "Whoa. whoa" said the doctor.  "Amber, give us an 8."  Just then I heard the nurse saying the baby's heart rate was dropping quite severely.  He needed to get out.  "Amber, push with this next contraction."  The contraction came, I closed my eyes, tight. The pain was REAL, I took a second to thank God and admire the amazement of this entire process then I pushed at a controlled 8.  I pushed and I felt him.  I felt the ridges of his face, the sharp bumps of his shoulders and his tiny legs slide out of my body.

I felt sweet relief once I heard his raspy cry. I opened my eyes, they locked on his sweet face and I lost it.  Relief and happiness consumed me as I squeezed him close. I cried as he cried. He was here! I did it! He was safe, I was safe!!
He was born at 5:56am.  16 mins after my water was broken.

I am so grateful for Ben is this baby delivering process.  He is a rock, standing right where I need him giving courage and love.  He is such an amazing partner through this process and the sweeter Daddy then I could have ever imagined.

I looked at the doctor. "How did we do?" During the brief moment of chaos she had said to me that with the pressure it looked as though my body was trying to tear in the same place as it had with Max.  She performed a small episiotomy and I hadn't torn past that.  The sew up job was easy peesy compared to the hour long stitches with my last delivery. It was considered to be a 2nd degree.  It was fantastic.

We snuggled our babe, called our family and Ben cut his cord and bathed him.  My body itched from the epidural leaving.  It drove me crazy.  We were exhausted from an all nighter, but giddy with the arrival of our sweet boy.

It was Sunday.  Sunday, May 17, 2015.  Exactly one year from the passing of Ben's Dad - Edward Walunas.  Our baby boy was born on his due date and the anniversary of the passing of his Papa.  I have no doubt that his Papa was there with him until he came to Earth to be with our family.  I have no doubt he knows his Papa and loves him as much as we all do here on Earth.  I know before our sweet babe came to join us his Papa wrapped his arms around him and no doubt offered his knowledge and wisdom. He made what could have been a sad day, happy.  He took our minds off loss and focused all our energy to joy, and life and love.  We miss Ed, some days so much it hurts, but we are grateful we have our sweet babe, born on the absolute perfect day to help us celebrate life.  I could not have made up a happier beginning to this sweet baby's life.  This sweet birthing experience and the joy of life only further reminds me and reiterates our Heavenly Father's amazing plan and work in our lives.  These moments are so personal and exactly what we need in His timing, which turns out to be our perfect timing.

Leo Edward Walunas.  Born May 17, 2015 at 5:56am. 7lbs 11oz. 20 3/4in.  Absolutely perfect.

Big shout out to Bethany of BD Photography for all of the amazing photos.  Her work tells our story and captures the feelings perfectly. She is amazing and we love her. Thank you Bethany!