If you’ve missed my previous posts, read those first! Here are the links: introduction, part one, part two, part three, and part four.

As the contractions pushed our baby closer and closer to the other side, Mary announced – your baby has a FULL head of hair!

What?? Whose baby? What color hair? Tim and I were both blondies when we were kids and neither of us had a ton of hair when we were born. We fully expected a baby with wispy blonde hair. That’s not at all what we got!

When it was finally go-time, Mary called in what felt like the SWAT team. All of a sudden our room was full of hustle and bustle. I had my eyes closed throughout most of my labor as that helped me focus, but I could hear all the movement and caught glimpses of my doctor and the nurses moving things around and getting all set up to bring our baby into the world.

Once they were all set up, everyone got quiet again and then we waited. And waited. And waited. Our baby seemed to have decided he or she was more comfortable on the inside. My contractions stopped. Or so it seemed. I joked with the doctor that the baby had decided to stay put. And then another wave came. And another. Pretty soon the nurses were encouraging me – that was a great push, do another just like that! And again – your baby has a FULL head of hair! Each word of encouragement, the excitement in their voices, it was all so helpful in getting me through those final steps.

When one nurse placed a towel on my chest, that’s when I knew we were really close. I remember feeling hot and sticky under the warmth of that fuzzy towel, but stealing a glimpse at it and thinking – I’m going to have a baby soon! I’m going to have a baby, laying on my chest, wrapped up in that towel in just moments. A few more contractions, one big exhale, so much relief, and the doctor lifted our baby – our BOY – onto my chest. Until then we didn’t know. We had suspected, but we didn’t know for sure that we were having a boy. At 8:51am on Saturday morning I was handed a beautiful, squirming, screaming baby boy.

The doctor asked, and Tim made the game-day decision to cut the cord. And I even surprised myself and asked if I could see my placenta – I grew it myself after all! Instead of being grossed out – which is what I expected – I was amazed. It was much bigger than what I had imagined in my head. I still have no idea how the baby and that placenta fit inside my belly. No clue.

It was extraordinary having made it to the other side. Having a baby in my arms. I couldn’t believe that we made this, I grew this baby, I had just birthed a tiny human being, and we would get to keep him too! What a miracle.

I confess though that it wasn’t pure overwhelming bliss once they placed Beckett on my chest. The total joy would come later. I mostly felt relief at the beginning. Pain, yes. But mostly relief and gratitude. I was so grateful to have made it to the other side. So grateful to have done so without an epidural. And so grateful for both Tim, my nurse Mary, and the doctor who each encouraged and instructed and challenged me in their own way.  

Beckett Elijah Kroll was born on July 9th, 2016, at 8:51am, weighing 8lb 3oz, and reaching 20.5 in. He was chubby and round when he first came out. And he had so much hair. He screamed and screamed as he laid on my chest, and it was the absolute best noise I’d ever heard.

Read the final part of Beckett’s birth story and the story of his name here.

If you’ve missed my previous posts, here are links for the introduction, part one, part two, and part three.

After hesitating when the doctor asked if I was ready for her to break my water, and then feeling like it actually did break before she even left the room, she checked and decided that it did indeed look like my water had broken. (We’d find out later that I had what she called a “high break.”)

As the night wore on, I found myself feeling rather overwhelmed with it all and I remember telling the doctor I might need something to “take the edge off.” She knew that I had wanted to have our baby as naturally as possible, so she sat on the end of my bed and laid out the facts. She told me I was “close enough to having this baby” that taking any sort of analgesic (the alternative to getting an epidural) at this point would make the baby sleepy when he or she was born. I knew that would make it more difficult to breastfeed and assumed that it could also make the APGAR score a bit lower, perhaps resulting in the baby needing to have more time away from me to be monitored when he was born. Because of those things I hesitated, but was also feeling so overwhelmed at how uncomfortable I was during each contraction that I wasn’t sure what to do next.

From the end of my bed, the doctor looked me straight in the face and she said, “I believe you can do this. I’ve never believed anything more strongly in my life. Not a lot of people can do what you have done already. I see strength in you.”

Oh, what a gift.

At that point I didn’t even care if those words were completely true or not, they were exactly what I needed to hear from someone I knew had attended a lot more births than I ever will. Her words gave me the extra boost that I needed when I was feeling completely exhausted.

At some point in the early morning there was a shift change and a new nurse named Mary was assigned to me. She was extraordinary and exactly who I needed at that point when things were getting really difficult. She immediately came in with an encouraging energy and helped me figure out what my next steps should be. I’d been in bed for quite a while at that point and was feeling pretty uncomfortable. Mary immediately helped me out of bed and back onto the birthing ball, showed me how to raise the bed up, and helped get me in a position leaning over the bed that was much more comfortable and productive. 

When it was time for the doctors to switch over, the overnight doctor who had been so encouraging to me came back in with the doctor who would be delivering our baby – he also happened to be my OBGYN so it was great that we already knew him. While she was checking on me one more time before turning me over to the new shift, she realized that my water actually hadn’t completely broken.

Between all the contractions, and even the pushing stage later on, this was the most urgency I heard in anyone’s voice throughout my entire labor. “There’s a bag of waters here. Her water hasn’t broken yet!” And she quickly and firmly told me, “Sweetheart, I’m going to go ahead and break your water.” She didn’t give me any more explanation and I didn’t ask for one. She went ahead and broke my water which was definitely uncomfortable, but not as bad as I had imagined it would be.

As my contractions continued, the nurses kept telling me, “You’ll know when it’s time to push.” I remember thinking – what the heck is that supposed to feel like? I feel like I want to push right now! During contractions I kept saying between breaths, “I’m feeling a lot of pressure! I feel like I’m supposed to push soon!” And mostly I felt like they ignored me for a while. They knew better than I did that it wasn’t time for me to push yet. I imagine I must not have been dilated quite enough. (As Tim read through this story, he told me I was apparently very eager to start pushing! Haha.)

I don’t even remember the transition when it actually came time for me to push, but I do remember Mary teaching me how. “Do you remember the instructions from your birthing class?” I hesitated. “Not at all. You can teach me all over again!” Honestly, I don’t remember learning how to push in our class. I remember a lot of talk about breathing, and that’s what had helped me up till this point. Now I needed a whole new set of instructions. Hold your legs this way, curl your body like this, breathe in, hold it, push, count to ten, don’t forget to keep your face relaxed, do it again.

Tim tells me I pushed for about an hour, but if I had to guess I would have said it was more like 20 minutes. At that point I was tired enough that I kept falling asleep between contractions – something I truly didn’t understand before when people would say that’s what happened to them. I figured you would be alert and attentive till the end. But somehow your body knows you need rest and allows you to get it in tiny increments here and there.

Our room was pretty calm and quiet in between contractions. When I felt one coming on, Tim would grab one foot, Mary would grab the other, and they would push my knees to my chest and help me count down through each push – Tim counting and Mary reminding me to hold my breath and relax my face. We’d do that three times over and then I would rest again. As the contractions pushed our baby closer and closer to the other side, Mary announced – your baby has a FULL head of hair!

Read the next part of the story here.

If you’ve missed my previous posts, here are links for the introduction, part one, and part two.

From the beginning I figured it would be best to hold my “birth plan” with open hands. I truly did not want to come in with a list of demands for my nurses. Mostly I just wanted to experience it all. I wanted to be fully present to the birth of our child. If I had found that I couldn’t be fully present because the pain was too great, then I planned to get an epidural. But until that time, to me, “fully present” meant embracing the experience without medication and remembering that it was something my body was meant to do.

I found it so helpful to remember back to our birth class when we learned that the pain of childbirth is not like other pain that we experience. Rather than something that is done to you against your will, they reminded us that the pain of birth is a sort of side effect of your body bringing your baby into the world. Seeing it that way was so so helpful for me.

I was very uncomfortable sitting in bed, so when I was finally allowed to get up, I took advantage of the birthing ball my nurse brought me and I sat and rocked back and forth on it to ease the discomfort of each contraction. Because of being hooked up to the monitors and IV, it was pretty difficult to move around the room, but I found I was most comfortable sitting on the ball anyway. 

I found that for me, the most helpful thing was to focus on my breathing. I found myself going inwards, closing my eyes and just breathing my way through each contraction. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Over and over. It felt a lot like yoga – breathing through the discomfort, taking my time, and not letting myself get too worked up as things got more difficult.

Since I’d taught at Creative Mornings that day (and had to talk over loud music the whole time), my voice had been more strained than usual, so I found that my throat was feeling dry and scratchy as I tried to breathe through each contraction. It took a lot of concentration to keep my breath under control so I wouldn’t start coughing. It was a frustrating distraction, but one that probably helped me maintain that calmer breath throughout my labor.  My nurse did have to remind me a couple times to calm my breath and keep it under control though.

Tim was extraordinarily helpful throughout my entire labor. He held my hand nearly the entire time and encouraged me through each contraction. In the beginning when I used the birthing ball I found it was helpful for him to rub my lower back as each contraction was fading. Any other time it felt sort of irritating to be touched, but that firm pressure on my back at the end of each contraction helped me feel like they were fading more quickly.

Tim also took it upon himself to watch the monitor and let me know how my contractions were progressing. He only made the mistake once of warning me when a contraction was coming and I quickly told him, “I can FEEL when they’re coming. Don’t tell me that again!” Poor guy. The rest of the time he just watched the monitor and would tell me when a contraction was waning.

Even though I could usually tell that the wave of a contraction had reached its peak and was on its way out, it was so helpful to have him reassuring me that I was almost done with that particular one. He would also tell me when I’d gotten through a really strong contraction – his enthusiasm and encouragement was truly wonderful. “Babe! You beasted that one! That was a big contraction! You’ve got one more under your belt. One step closer to meeting our baby.”

It was also really helpful to have Tim breathing with me, especially when my contractions got a lot stronger. He would hold my hand and breathe along with me through each one. This kept me focused and kept me from breathing too quickly. There was one particular time when my nurse told me my breathing wasn’t good. It was starting to get away from me as the pain got more intense. Whatever it was that she said really helped me to slow down and lower the tone of my breathing which helped each contraction feel more productive. 

Since I was hooked up to the monitors and IV, which made it harder to move around, I just went back and forth between sitting up in bed and sitting on the birthing ball, depending on what felt most comfortable at the time. 

In our bag I had packed a list of scripture verses to carry me through when things got more difficult. I didn’t know if I would actually look at them, but I knew I wanted to have them on-hand in case I needed a reminder or some encouragement.  At one calmer part of the night, I asked Tim to grab that sheet of paper and I read through a couple of them and underlined the ones that stood out. Looking back at my list, I focused ones that had to do with fear – or more accurately the lack of fear in that moment.

Isaiah 41:10 was one of those, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” I remember reading and re-reading those words “do not fear” and “I am with you” a few times in between contractions.

The details get a little fuzzy in my brain as the night went on, but I remember being told I was at 5-6cm and that I needed to lean over on my right side so that I’d thin out more on that side to even things out. As I progressed and got closer to 8cm I remember alternating between holding Tim’s hand and gripping the rails on the side of my bed. I found myself gripping the rails even in between contractions and once I realized it, I found that my hand was cramping up and needed Tim to massage the tightness away. 

Because the details are so fuzzy to me, I don’t really remember the order that everything happened in relation to how dilated I was. At one point the overnight Doctor gave me the option that she could go ahead and break my water for me, which would speed things up a bit, but would also make the contractions stronger. When I hesitated, she reassured me that there was absolutely no rush and I could wait for my water to break on its own if I wanted.

After an epidural, having the doctor break my water was the other thing that really gave me the heebie jeebies, so I decided to wait on that one. Before the doctor had even left the room though I felt that sort of “gush of fluid” they talk about and I remember saying, “I think the baby heard you! I think my water just broke!”

Read the next part of our story here.