Once upon a time in the small town of Oakboro, during a fair weathered evening, it was just a regular Wednesday night at the Stone house..........
My due date was January 25th, which is my Dad's birthday so I was kind of hoping that this baby would come and share a birthday with his Papa, but we all know that babies come when they come, they are not particularly worried about our time table. My brother had called us the evening before to let us know that my sister in law's water had broken and they were on their way to the hospital. All day Wednesday (my due date), I was waiting for news about my nephews arrival, which was a good distraction for the fact that nothing was happening in that department with me. Finally at 8:30, I got a text from my brother saying that Baby Palmer was here! I was so happy that it was over for Christina, and only slightly jealous that I was still waiting : )
I didn't have to wait long.
Patrick was working his regular 24 hour shift at the Fire Department so Randall and I were home alone and I was rocking him to sleep when a contraction hit that felt different from the many Braxton Hicks contractions that I had been feeling over the past few months. After Randall fell asleep I put him in his crib and got into bed myself. The contractions continued to come sporadically but they were strong enough that I was unable to get much sleep. I labored all night and at 6:30 AM, when I knew that Patrick would be up, I called to let him know that he probably needed to come straight home instead of going to his part time job. Randall woke up not long after and he was unconcerned that his Mama was in labor, he still demanded his usual morning routine, so we got up and got the day started. I felt sure that Baby was going to come that day, but as the day went on, my contractions got farther apart until I was having one only every once in a while. My midwife had instructed me to rest since I had been up all night but I was too restless and anxious to relax enough to sleep, so I kept myself busy, cleaning and doing laundry for most of the day. That evening (Thursday) my contractions started back up again and I prepared for another long night of labor.
Throughout the night my contractions became stronger and closer together and around 5:30 I was at a point where I knew I was going to start needing some help to get through them. I woke Patrick up and he called the midwife who told us to go ahead and start making our way to the birthing center, which is an hour and a half away. We also called my parents and sisters to let them know it was time to head to Statesville. Patrick loaded up our bags, a sleepy Randall, and me, and we were off. We got to the birthing center around 7:30 and Marcia, my midwife checked my dilation ( 5-6 cm) and helped me to get situated in the bed so that I could try to rest in between contractions.
After laying in the bed for awhile my contractions started to slow down again so my midwife suggested that I nurse Randall to get them going again, and then go outside and walk one foot on, one foot off the curb. Randall was happy to oblige and it worked like a charm to get my contractions coming every few minutes and they were very strong. After several contractions we got up and headed outside.
The contractions were very strong at this point, some of them had me feeling like I could not continue, but I had the best team of people to keep encouraging me and helping me get through each one.
We came back inside around 11:00 AM and my midwife checked me again and I was 6-7 cm dilated at that point. Time to get in the tub.
Although the warm water felt good, it did not ease the pain of the contractions which were now very strong and at times causing me to panic and wonder how in the world I was going to get through this.
The thing about child birth is that no matter how many "I can't do this" moments you have, you don't have a choice, there is no way to stop the process which is probably a good thing.
After what seemed like forever, but really wasn't, the contractions changed once again which indicated that it was time to start pushing.
I'm going to be honest here: I was totally unprepared for how it feels to deliver a baby without an epidural.
It really hurts.
Like, really, really hurts.
I wish I could say that I was tough and brave and did this major task without complaint, but that would be a lie. When I wasn't yelling, I was begging God and anyone in my line of vision to "please help me" and wishing they would believe me when I said "I can't do it! I can't get him out!"
I'm so thankful for the people that I had around me for this most difficult task because they knew that I was stronger then I felt and that I could do it. And so with their encouraging words surrounding me, I pushed as hard as I could and finally (at 1:26 PM) felt the tiny body of my son come into the world. Marcia pulled him out of the water and laid him on my chest.
Patrick cutting the cord.....
So, at this point I had been in labor for 38 hours, I had not slept in 50 hours and in the past 24 hours I had only eaten peanut butter crackers and a bowl of cereal, and on top of all of that I was losing more blood then was normal so once they helped me out of the tub and onto the bed, I was completely depleted. Patrick took the baby and got in the bed next to me to do skin to skin until I was alert enough to try and nurse.
For the next few hours we lay in the bed and rested and nursed, at some point they weighed the baby and found he was 8 pounds 13 ounces and 21 inches tall; a whole pound bigger then Randall! They gave me a bag of fluid to help me get my strength back and then helped me take a shower. At 7:00 PM we left the birthing center and headed home.
There are so many things to be thankful for in this experience. My little sister Emily missed being there when Randall was born but when I called her to let her know I was in labor, she jumped in the car and drove from Kentucky so she could be there for the birth. I was so glad to have her there, especially since Randall adores her, he was very happy to stay close to her while I was laboring. I am so thankful that Randall was able to be there with us and that we didn't have to spend any nights away from him. My mom and dad were both able to be there which was such a blessing of comfort for me. I knew that my Dad was praying me through it, and my mom was continually telling me how amazing I was and she took all these great pictures that I will treasure forever. I really don't think I would have been able to make it without my sister Jennifer, and Patrick. Jenn is the best doula anyone could ask for, she helped me get through each contraction, using counter pressure, kept me changing positions, and most of all, in my moments of panic, her calm, firm voice brought me back to a place of peace and focus. Patrick didn't say much, I know he was so glad to have Jenn there to do the coaching, but he never left my side, always there to hold my hand, whisper how proud of me he was, and remind me of the reason we were there.
Now that I am a little further away from it, I can see how blessed I was during this experience. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but I am a stronger person because of it. I tend to doubt myself on a regular basis, often choosing not to try new things because I feel sure that I will fail, but look what I did! I got through the hard and painful and brought a beautiful little person into the world.
Praise the Lord!
When my Dad came in to see me after the delivery, I said something about how hard that was and he simply nodded and said "yes, but it can be transformative if you let it". (love that guy)
Lord, let it transform me.
It wasn't that long ago that I wasn't sure that I would get to have even one child and the Lord has given me two beautiful little boys.
Thank you, thank you.
Our newest Little Love, Wyatt Dean is the perfect addition to our family.
Beautiful! What a trial, and glad that it is over for you now. Enjoy your little ones. :)
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