Birth.

There really wasn't ever a clear "due date" for Emmett.  According to ultrasounds, among other things, the estimated due date was anywhere from September 4th to September 12th.  I also consistently measured 1 week bigger throughout my entire pregnancy.  According to my calculations, he was due around the 7th.  We went with the 12th, just so that no one started freaking out when he was "overdue."  The last 2 weeks or so of my pregnancy were absolutely the most uncomfortable I've ever been.  I cried. A lot.  I was certain that if this baby wasn't already "overdue" it was going to be, and that I was going to be pregnant forever.

Then, on Monday, the 10th, I started having contractions about 1:30 in the afternoon.  They were anywhere from 7-13 minutes apart and weren't getting any stronger or more regular.  This went on until 5:30PM, when they slowed down to about 15-30 minutes apart, and I was pretty sure it was a false alarm and I was totally bummed out, so I cried some more.  Then, 2 hours later, at 7:30PPM, I started having some better, stronger contractions 10 minutes apart while getting the kids ready for bed.  We got the kids into bed, and I took a bath while contractions kept coming 8-10 minutes apart.  I tried to lay down while Tim rubbed my feet with some essential oils (clary sage, jasmine, and lavender) but the contractions kept coming.  About 9PM we went for a short walk around the neighborhood and they kept coming, closer - stronger - and definitely regular.  We called my mom and my dear friend Jenica, who was my birth attendant again for this birth (she was with me when I had Mia also). 

About 11PM they were 3-4 minutes apart, but I was walking and able to talk through them.  Tim made me call my midwife (he still remembers me giving birth to Mia shortly after our arrival at the hospital - I'm sure he didn't want a repeat of that!)  She recommended I go in to be checked since it was my #3 baby, and I was group B strep positive and needed IV antibiotics during labor.  I was pretty bummed because I knew it was still early and I wanted to labor at home as long as I could, but knew it was probably a good idea to go in.  I was just praying I was dilated enough to be admitted since it's about a 30 minute drive to the hospital, and I labor much, much better when I can be up and walking and moving, and not strapped into a car. 

We arrived at the hospital just before midnight, and I was a 4+ and 90% effaced with baby at a -1 station.  Just good enough to be admitted! I'm glad I went in early this time because they were able to monitor me (aka strap me to a bed for 30 minutes), started the IV antibiotics, and asked me a billion silly questions, all while the contractions were manageable.  Baby's heart rate wasn't doing quite what they wanted, so they had me drink some apple juice and he perked right up, so they were able to unhook me from the bed and let me move around freely.  I paced the room with every contraction for a while, and my midwife came to check on me and then went to help an OB in another delivery.  After 30 minutes the L&D nurses made me lay back down to be monitored again, which was harder this time, and when my midwife came back she said I didn't have to be strapped down anymore, and that she would monitor me every 30 minutes while I was standing up instead.  Bless her!! At this point my midwife, mom, dad, Jenica, and Tim sat and chatted while I walked and walked.  I was getting fairly uncomfortable, and decided to sit on the birth ball and labor for a while.  Tim and Jenica rubbed my back and shoulders and reminded me to stay loose and relaxed. 

Around 2AM, I went to the bathroom to see if emptying my bladder would help relieve some of the pain with contractions.  I came out of the bathroom, and BOOM! Massive contractions started hitting one after the other.  I started to get hot and nauseated, which probably meant transition had hit.  Everyone helped me onto the bed, where I knelt down, my face towards the wall/head of the bed, and they raised the head of the bed to a 90 degree angle, and I hung onto it with my arms, so I was pretty much just kneeling.  Tim and Jenica were squeezing/pushing my hips together with each contractions, which helped a lot with the back pain, and my mom was wiping my head and neck with a cool wash cloth because I was so hot and sweating a ton.  I started wanting to push a little with each contraction, but the pushing actually hurt more, which was odd since pushing usually relieves some of the pain at that point.  My midwife thought there was probably a very small part of the cervix left (called an anterior lip) and that was what was causing the extra pain.  At that point she went ahead and and checked me for the first time since admission, and I did have that small portion of cervix, so with that contraction she tried to push it out of the way so the baby's head could start moving down.  Man! That hurt! But, it worked. 

Things were pretty intense at this point, and I'm not sure what all happened in what sequence because I was so focused on, well, trying to birth a baby, that I wasn't totally aware of what was going on around me.  My mom held a fresh cut lime under my nose at some point, which invigorated me at first, until it started making me sick, so she just stuck with wiping the buckets of sweat coming off my face.  The labor and delivery nurses came in and wanted me to turn around onto my back so they could hook me back up to their monitors (because "it's policy") and my awesome midwife said something to the effect of, "If that's policy, then stand there and hold the monitor on her belly because she's not moving."  I'm sure the nurses were thrilled, but they stood there and held the monitor to my belly.  At some point, my midwife thought that laboring in a different position might help a little (like squatting) but I seriously couldn't move at that point.  I was stuck kneeling, holding onto the head of the bed for dear life. 

My contractions were so intense, and when this babe started moving down into the birth canal, I knew he was big, and I kept thinking, "They're going to have to use the vacuum because I can't get him OUT OF ME!"  I only swore once, though, so I'm pretty proud of myself.  Every contraction felt like an eternity, but everyone kept saying, "You are so close! You're almost there!" And I would think, "You said that an hour ago!" when in reality it had only been about 2 minutes.  My water was still intact, and we kept going back and forth about weather or not to break it.  We decided to let it stay intact because I had group B strep and had only had 1 dose of antibiotics (instead of the 2 they like to give), and I was also running a temperature of unknown origin of 38 degrees Celsius, and if I did have an infection, the baby was being protected by the water sack around him.  My mom was mopping more sweat off my face, and Jenica was helping me breath down, instead of the high pitched, panicky breathing I started doing a few times. She kept me really focused. 

And where is Tim during all this, you might ask?  Well, he had donned a pair of sterile gloves, and he was down "there" with my midwife, stretching me as the baby crowned.  My mom asked me, in between contractions as the baby was crowning, "How are you feeling, Kate?" I remember saying, "Like I'm pushing a baby out of my crotch." Yep - that sums it up! 

The water was still intact, and then POP! it broke.  There was some meconium (possibly - it was such a small amount that they weren't sure) but they called in NICU and respiratory.   And then, maybe 5 minutes (or less) later, at 2:40AM, there was a baby! Tim delivered him, as the midwife coached him through it, and then Tim announced, "It's a BOY!"  And that baby boy started hollering - which is the best sound ever! I said, "I knew it!" and they passed my big baby boy to me through my legs, and I held onto his slippery self.  I had to have someone take him for a minute so that I could turn myself around and sit down to hold him. 

My midwife checked me for tearing, and announced that there was none - not even a little - which was an absolute miracle considering his size!  I attribute it to 1) being able to birth in a semi-squatted position instead of flat on my back, 2) the fact that I let my body push on its own since I could feel when I needed to push due to no epidural, and 3) the fact that my husband's 2 hands and my midwife's 2 hands were down there stretching everything while Emmett made his debut.  I honestly think I would have had complications and possibly a C-section if I had been strapped to a bed, lying flat on my back, and trying to birth a 10 pound baby.  Miracles never cease!

Right after he was born my mom said, "That is a 10 pound baby!" and my midwife said, "Nah. Maybe 9."  When they got him on the scales, I'm pretty sure everyone was surprised and we busted up laughing.  I'm also sure they shorted my little man on his length at birth, by about an inch or so.  We'll never know!

Emmett was on our list of names for little boys, but there were some others I was leaning more towards.  After he was born, I just wasn't sure about those other names.  I couldn't say, "I'll wait and see what he looks like" because, seriously, babies are just squishy and wrinkled when they're born.  Somehow, Emmett just fit him, though.  Later, we looked up at what Emmett means:  Strength or Powerful.  Fits this little man perfectly.

I loved my Medusa bangs. I think I lost a liter of water in just sweat alone.  This is right after birth.  Pretty sure he's still attached at the cord.

He was a little "jittery" right after birth, and so I nursed him right away.  He latched on really well and nursed for a full hour! They moved me down to the mom/baby unit an hour after delivery, where he went with daddy and had his first bath.  My midwife said I could go home that evening if the pediatrician cleared the baby.  However, during his first 24 hours, he had a hard time keeping his blood sugars up because he was so big.  I nursed and nursed him, but eventually had to supplement him with formula a few times when his blood sugars dipped to the mid-lower 40's.  Also, his hematocrit was a little on the higher side (he was the opposite of anemic), and then with me being group B strep positive and not getting 2 full doses of antibiotics - well - 3 strikes, and we had to stay the night.   We were cleared to go home the next day, so really we ended up only staying about 36 hours.  I only ever had to take Motrin for pain, and never had to take the Lortabs, which was a good thing because baby boy was so sleepy because of the low blood sugars already, and adding Lortab to that would have made it that much harder to nurse and keep his sugars up. 

Just before leaving the hospital.  Man, I hate hospitals. Haha. I'd rather be the nurse than the patient, any day!



He did have a little jaundice and had to be checked a few times, but never had to go under the lights, which we were worried about as his body broke down all those extra red blood cells (from the high hematocrit).  My milk came in within 48 hours and helped flush some of that jaundice out.  He does have a cow's milk intolerance, so I've had to cut out all dairy.  We also ended up with thrush his first weekend home, so I've cut out all extra sugars and all yeast.  No gluten. No dairy.  No yeast.  No sugar.  Seriously?! I'm breastfeeding, and I'm starving! I'm eating a lot of meat and veggies, with some rice and plain oats on the side for carbs. It apparently hasn't affected him or my milk supply much because today at his 2 week appointment he was 11 pounds 1 ounce and 22 1/4 inches long. We also had some trouble with his belly button stump being pushed off and bleeding/oozing because of a granuloma.  They cut the stump off on Saturday, and then today the pediatrician touched it up with some silver nitrate.  It looks OK, we're just watching for a fever in case it does become infected.  And just because it's gross - here's a picture.

Gross, right?

And just because he's cute:

2 weeks old.  Cute, right?

My physical recovery has been amazing.  I have to remind myself to be patient with myself, because I tend to do too much just because my body feels great. I don't, however, remember being quite this emotional post-partum.  3 kids is a lot.  I thought I would be exempt from the "3 is the hardest" - just because my other 2 are older, but 3 is definitely hard.  Bed time/evenings are pretty much chaos around our house.  My other 2 might be older, but they are still little, and they need their mama more than ever.  Having a new baby around is an adjustment for everyone.  But we all love Emmett so much, we can hardly contain ourselves every time he squeaks, or burps, or makes a funny face.  Giving him a bath is almost too much to handle with all the little "helping" hands I have involved.

Emmett - I'm glad you came to us.  You belong here.