“This is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside-down. And I’d like to take a minute, just sit right there, to tell you how I became a mom of two boys and lost all my hair…” Can’t you just hear the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air busting it out right now? Maybe I added that last part in. And, maybe, I am embellishing just a little bit.
Beckett’s birth story is an interesting one. As I mentioned here and here, it was already a difficult pregnancy compared to my pregnancy with Harrison. I was already scheduled for an induction on April 4, a little less than a week before Beckett’s due date of April 10. Well, during my 38-week appointment, my blood pressure read high, I mean really high (for me). It was 147/98 or something in that range. I knew it would be high because I was feeling funny: headache, queasy, “floaters” on the wall at times. That prompted my doctor to order a blood sample and a 24-hour urine analysis (fun times). That was Wednesday. On Thursday, we had dinner at David’s sister’s house with her and my mother-in-law. Again, I was feeling really tired and my calves were feeling pretty tight. I lay on her couch, and David’s mother recommended I take my blood pressure. She had brought a cuff with her knowing I’d had some high readings recently. It was high again. We waited 10 minutes after I lay down some more and re-read it. High again. I called the doctor’s emergency line, and when she called me back, she told me to check-in to the hospital.
Now, I could’ve told you (if you’d asked) right then that a baby was not coming that night. However, David, who had already brought Harrison home to put him to bed, seemed to be thinking and hoping otherwise. I called him to tell him we needed to go to the hospital for some monitoring, and he packed the car with my labor and hospital bag. We were there for a couple of hours, and then home by 10:30. No baby. And I was glad. He needed to wait a little longer.
Well, remember here where I talked about my Valentine’s gift to David? He had written, “I love you because YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE OUR BABY! Oops. That wouldn’t come for a few more days.
So, fast forward to Monday, April 2. I had an early afternoon appointment with the perinatologist, so we asked David’s aunt if she could pick Harrison up from school and keep him for us. She suggested we go enjoy lunch together one last time before baby arrived, and we eagerly agreed. Good thing, too. Just as we were finishing lunch, I noticed I missed a call and message from my doctor. She said my urine analysis came back fine, but my blood sample came back, and she wanted me to call her.
The gist was that I needed to get to the hospital because she wanted to deliver our baby by that evening. I remember starting and re-starting phrases and sentences on the phone with her multiple times because I was not prepared to have this baby. Granted, he was scheduled for 2 days later, but that seemed like an eternity away at that moment. I recall asking if it was alright for David to go back to our house and get my things. They weren’t in the car, and don’t ask me why since we’d already been to the hospital once and I was on bed rest. We should’ve been more prepared. I wasn’t sure if she meant she wanted to deliver now or what. She explained that although she wanted Beckett to come that day, she wasn’t going to expedite the process beyond what we’d already discussed.
I pretty much had the same course of action that was taken with Harrison. I had tested positive for Strep B again (if you’re wondering, a positive or negative test the first time is no indication of what the results will be other times), so they had to run two courses of antibiotics. I got this awful pain in my right thumb and forearm from where the antibiotic ran. I do not remember that from last time. I was almost crying, so they had to turn the dosage down a little. They started the pitocin soon after the second course of antibiotics. I once again did not understand why they did this. It apparently was not because my contractions weren’t regular enough, but because I wasn’t feeling them strongly enough.
Oh, I forgot to mention that I was already 5 cm dilated when we got there. I was only about 65-70% effaced, though. With Harrison, I was 5 cm and 90% effaced when we arrived. Anyway, I remember around 4/4:30 the on-call doctor coming in and talking about breaking my water. I must have had this very confused and scared look on my face because she quickly said, let me check you first. I was then 6 cm dilated on my own, so after calling my doctor, she said they would wait until 6 pm or so. I was relieved because I just didn’t feel ready for Beckett to arrive. It didn’t seem right.
So, a couple of hours passed and the doctor came in to break my water. I was still not very effaced, so when she did it took a while and nothing much happened until 30 minutes or more later.
My parents arrived, followed shortly by my older brother and his fiancee. We exchanged some pleasantries while I breathed my way through contractions (which I’m still not convinced David or anyone else realized I was having; or, at least, the extent to which I was having them). After they left, the contractions became much more powerful and closer together. I asked the nurse how close together they were, and could we please turn off the Pitocin. She explained they were where we wanted them, 3 minutes apart. I said, “No, they are much closer than that.” She replied, “I mean from the start of one to the start of the next one.” Grr….
Around 8 pm, I said, “I need to push”. The nurse told me she would call my doctor. Yeah, um, I meant right then and now. I knew Beckett was coming. The nurse asked me if I could roll over (I was on my side), and I said I wasn’t sure. She said I needed to roll over, so she and David helped me. She took a look and exchanged some words with the doctor (do they think I can’t hear them?), who said, “I don’t think her doctor is going to make it.”. Nope. Beckett arrived at 8:05 pm. Whew! My doctor had told me she didn’t think I would have to push long with him, and she was right. I think I gave 3 long pushes, and he was out.
And he was beautiful. He was small and perfect. He was my 5 pound, 10 ounce, perfect little peanut. I don’t know his APGAR (probably perfect 🙂 ), but that was the furthest from my mind. I just wanted to hold him close and not let go.
Beckett was definitely a baby that has done “better out, than in”. He left the hospital at 5 pounds, 5 ounces, and was up 2 ounces a day later at his first doctor appointment. Three days later, he was up to 6 pounds. By 6 weeks, he was 8 pounds, 6.5 ounces, and at 8 weeks, he was 10 pounds, 9.7 ounces. I am such a proud mother, and am so blessed to have another healthy baby boy.