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It is officially 3 days past ovulation. I even got a little eggie on my chart to prove it!  So this is the day I get to dream.  I get to dream about my next delivery!

I was really hoping for a natural childbirth with Gavin.  I planned on it.  I knew it was going to be hard work but I was sure I could do it.  That is... until I was in labor for the 3rd day in a row.  I think it is what they call prodromal labor but whatever you call it, it was three days of consistent contractions and only short spurts of sleep.  So when I was finally admitted to the hospital I was exhausted and my whole plan was tossed out the window.  If you want to read his birth story, it is HERE. 


When I was pregnant with Joey I was adamant that this time I would have my natural childbirth!  That was the case regardless of my OB's constant reminders of how I would want an epidural.  She even went as far as to try to schedule me a consult with anesthesiology so that my next epidural would be better.  She would then tell me about the chance I would need a c-section and that I should probably get the epidural so that if I needed surgery they wouldn't have to put me out.  I did end up with an induction but I managed to deliver my 10 pound 3 ounce baby vaginally without any pain medication!  It was awesome, but not what I really wanted. Joey's birth story is HERE.

Dreaming about the next one started within about 10 minutes of Joey's delivery.  Not even kidding!  I was delivering the placenta and my OB told me that if I ever needed to deliver a 11 pounder, I had the pelvis to do it!  I was thrilled with this!  Because with that information I could avoid an induction even if I have another big baby.  They can't justify inducing early just to prevent a big baby if there is no reason to believe that I can't push him (or her!) out!  So the planning began!

I do not want to be induced again.  There wasn't a good reason for my last one so let's just let God decide when this next baby will arrive.  In fact, I wish I could have a home birth but something tells me that a midwife wouldn't want to deliver a potentially big baby at my home which is at least a good 20 minutes from a hospital.  Plus, the time it takes to get paramedics to our "off the beaten path" home would be problematic too.  So, in lieu of a home birth I want to have a home birth experience at a hospital if that makes any sense.

I want to be able to walk around.  I want to stand up and go pee when I need to.  I want to eat and drink if the mood strikes.  I do not want anything continually attached to me.  I don't mind intermittent monitoring to make sure baby is doing okay in there, but I want to have freedom of movement with no strings (or cords) attached!  I do not want to feel pressured or told what to do.  If I feel like my body is pushing involuntarily, then God is telling me it is time to push.  I want to let God manage this delivery, not doctors.

Then, after baby is here, I want to nurse right away.  I want quiet and privacy.  After a few hours of getting to stare at and nurse my new little life with Doug at my side, then if the nurses need to do some blood work and other such things then they may.  Then let the visitors come!  I am good at sharing after I get a good long turn! 

Have you thought about how you want your next child to be brought into the world?  If you have a post that involves a birth plan, past or current, link it up below! 

In honor of Joey's first birthday I thought I would share with you all (in some cases-again) the birth story of my Joseph. I knew he was going to be big but that wasn't enough to convince me to not do this the natural way. Well as natural as possible considering I had to have an IV of pitocin to induce labor, was attached to monitors for 12 hours, had my bag of water artificially ruptured, and was told not to push when I needed to push. But, even with all of those things, going through with labor and delivery without an epidural was, perhaps, one of my most proud and defining moments of my life.

When I was at my OB's office for a annual pap a few months ago, I had the opportunity to ask her what the biggest baby she ever delivered was. She said she had delivered and 11+ pounder before but it was by c-section. She admitted that the largest baby she ever delivered vaginally was my Joseph at 10 pounds 3 ounces! I will take that badge of honor and run with it! I love my big 'ole baby!

Joey's Birth Story complete with high quality labor and delivery pictures compliments of Just Us Two photography.

A few days before my due date and scheduled induction I had an ultrasound that had estimated Joseph to weigh 9 pounds 11 ounces give or take a pound. My first thought was of course that I was very much hoping for the “take a pound” as opposed to the “give” part of the technicians comment. I was thoroughly planning for a delivery with no epidural or other pain relief but that number scared me. A lot. I first called a dear friend of mine who I knew delivered a 10 pound baby with no epidural AND she was induced so I knew I needed a pep talk. She assured me that I could do it and told me about a phrase that her husband repeated to her that helped. It was, “You can do anything for a minute.” I went home and prayed that I would go into labor on my own. I didn’t.


My labor was really picking up and I was starting to zone out during my contractions. I was watching Judge Judy (4 o’clock or so) or rather staring at the screen between contractions. There was a case between two lesbians and the one woman’s last name was Massengill. That was the last time I recall laughing until after Joseph was born.

The contractions were getting tougher and tougher to breathe through. I had started to really need to focus, squeeze Doug’s hand, and the sweating started. They checked me and I was only at 4 cm. I was still determined to deliver this baby with no pain relief and so Doug started reminding me, with every contraction, “You can do anything for a minute.” That reminder seemed to be coming faster and faster with less time to recover. It was now about 6 o’clock and I was feeling as if I couldn’t go much longer. The tears started coming and the pleading with Doug to remind me that I was going to do this pain free this time but I would certainly get the epidural next time. So, the nurse checked me again and told me I was dilated to 7 cm. That is when the real tears started. Only 7!? I felt as if I had been in labor for days in that atrocious bed. I turned to Doug and said, “I need something. Something IV. Just so I can rest. I am too tired to do this.” He asked me several times if I was SURE that I wanted drugs. I said I was so very sure, so he told the nurse when she came back in the room. She looked at me with a face I will never forget. “Aw, honey. We can’t give you anything IV after you are 5 cm.” I was so devastated thinking that I was just going to lose my mind when the next contraction started. A few contractions later the nurse asked me if I was feeling any pressure. I thought about it for a second and realized that I was feeling some pressure. It was only a few contractions later that I started feeling an uncontrollable urge to push. I was sitting up on my left hip and telling the nurse, “Oh! I am pushing!?”

She quickly tells me not to push and she is going to check me. She checks me and tells me not to push because I have a bit of cervix left and it could damage my cervix if I push. At that moment, my body didn’t give two craps about my cervix because despite every effort to not push, I was pushing. The nurse made a call and this is when the controlled chaos began. I remember her saying to whoever was on the other end of the phone, “I have got a woman here who is really pushy.” My first thought was, “I am trying to be nice. I don’t want to be that pushy lady that doesn‘t listen.” Then I realized what she meant by pushy. The nurse had her hand between my legs and was holding the baby’s head. That was terribly uncomfortable. I was still on my hip looking over my shoulder at the faces coming in the room. They all looked puzzled and nervous. I heard one person ask another, “Where is the doctor?” and the other answered, “She said she would be here in fifteen minutes and that was fifteen minutes ago.” At this point I didn’t care who caught this baby, I was pushing him out. Now. I was still announcing to the room that I was pushing and everyone in the room would answer back, “Don’t push! Don’t push!” to which I would answer with an emphatic, “IIIIIIIII’M PUSHING!” I was looking over my shoulder periodically to look for my doctor and was thrilled when I saw her frantically scrubbing her hands at the sink. They put the stirrups up and I put one leg up, then the other. I saw the doctor slide into position and I went ahead and pushed with everything I had. This time I heard my doctor’s voice chiming in with everyone else, “Don’t push!” Then I swear I hear the doctor exhale in defeat when she said, “Okay just one little push.” Then, the next thing I knew the weight of Joseph’s body was resting on my stomach. I couldn’t believe it. There he was. All 10 pounds 3 ounces of him. The instant pain relief I felt coupled with the reality that I had just delivered my second son was euphoric.

My nurse awarded Doug the “Best Coach Ever” award. He was very proud of that award but I was prouder that he stayed right by my side and helped me through what was so challenging, yet so rewarding.

Our beautiful baby boy, Joseph William was born on July 15th at 7:09 pm.

I had a very normal pregnancy with Gavin. I gained too much weight but I stayed healthy other than that. I was due on February 13th, 2008 and, of course, heard for 8 months from anyone who asked my due date, "Maybe he will be a Valentine's baby!" I always thought that would be neat but I knew how unreliable due dates are so I didn't want to get my hopes set on any one particular day.

On Sunday night the 10th, I started having gas pain. At least that is what I thought it was. I think I knew deep down that it was probably the start of labor but was sort of in denial. I was no longer working so on Monday I sat around on the couch, doing as little as possible, noticing that my gas pains were starting to happen in a sort of pattern. It wasn't painful really. Just noticeable. When Doug came home from work I explained what I was feeling but was still sure it was really no big deal. Doug decided to start timing them, entering them into a spread sheet on the computer (so very typical of him) and relaying the pattern to me. He decided that he wouldn't be going back to work the next day.

I got a decent night of sleep but by morning the contractions started up again. Doug continued to keep track of things while I tried to focus on other things. By that evening they were undeniably painful and according to Excel, ranging from as many as 10 minutes apart to as few as 5 minutes apart. As first timers we decided that we should probably go to the hospital since I was starting to have a difficult time coping with the pain and there was a snow storm brewing. We took our time, showered, packed the car and headed out into the snow at about 8 pm. Driving down the gravel and rutted out lane was very painful. Every bump felt like I was about to have horrible diarrhea while sitting on a bowling ball. We made it through the snow covered roads to the hospital. We were taken to the Labor and Delivery Triage where after a couple of hours we were sent packing. I was dialated to 2 cm but my contractions has essentially petered out. The nurse also told me that I was way to pleasant to be in real labor. The nurse told me I could walk around the hospital or just go home. We opted for the return trip home since we were both tired and hopeful that maybe we could get some rest. The trek home was a slow one since the storm was in full effect and the roads were completely covered.

I decided to sleep on the couch, or attempt to, so that Doug could get uninterrupted sleep. I watched that night's episode of American Idol that I had recorded and tried to fall asleep. I got very little sleep since the contractions had grown quite uncomfortable and impossible to sleep through. I would close my eyes, rest for 10 minutes or so be awakened by the contraction and try to rest again. This went on all night. In the morning, we decided to get showered and then make a return trip to the hospital partially so that we wouldn't get snowed into the house and we figured that the baby would be coming soon with the frequency and intensity of the contractions. We didn't check in so that we could just walk around until things picked up and we would then check in. It was now Wednesday the 13th, my due date. We walked around the hospital back and forth, stopping every 10 minutes or so to lean on a wall or sit in a chair to breathe through the contraction then off we would go until the next one. In the lobby there was a series of tables set up selling chocolates of many varieties. We bought some and sat down to sample the goods. I look up to see the Triage nurse walking right up to me.

"Are you STILL here?!" She asked stunned.

I explained that we had gone home for the night but came back hoping that with a little walking I would be checking in soon.

Her words were, "When it is time, you will know it. Go home. Get some rest. We'll see you soon."

So back to the car we went. I was so tired. All the way back home in the storm, up the horribly bumpy lane that I swear induced some of the most sever contractions ever, and into the baby-ready house. I was hungry and Doug made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I had a bowl of potato chips topped with Frank's Red Hot Sauce (one of my frequent pregnancy cravings). I talked on the phone with a few of my friends and family and the contractions were so intense that I would tell them to hold on..... okay... just a bit longer... then finish my sentence.

That night we went up to bed at about 8 pm, and tried to watch American Idol. I was zoning out, moaning, and trying to breathe during my contractions. There weren't any more frequent than they had been the past 36 hours but they were certainly getting stronger. Doug called my doctor who said that we should go to the hospital.

Back in the car. Again. Through the snow and ice we went to get to the hospital. The bumpy lane was agonizing this time. I told Doug that he had to stop hitting the bumps and would cry out when he would inevitably hit one. Poor guy. He couldn't win on that one. We got to the hospital ER and climbed into the wheelchair. The nurse at the desk asked my due date and I thought it was cool that I got to say, "Today!!"

Finally I was actually admitted to the hospital and in a room that would be mine for the next three days. It was really late. I was exhausted from so many days with very little sleep. They offered the epidural a number of times but I turned it down over and over until... They told me how it would be a good thing. They said I would be able to rest and that I would need it to push in a little while. I caved. Rest sounded luxurious at this point.

The anesthesiologist came to admisnister the epidural. It took a long time and at least 2 tries before they were able to get it in. I thought the process was terribly uncomfortable not to mention trying to hold still during some of the most intense contractions yet. Well, the epidural only worked as far as causing me the inability to move my legs. I felt each contraction, perhaps a bit dulled but still very painful. They tuned the lights off so that I could sleep but I don't think I managed to close my eyes for more than a few minutes at a time. I would start moaning, panting, and gritting my teeth. Doug's voice would echo from the other side of the room form the recliner, "Just breathe. Just breathe." This seemed to go on for hours. At midnight, I realized that I was about have my baby on Valentines Day.

Toward the end of what seemed like hours I recall feeling like I was forcing myself to pee every time I had a contraction. I had a catheter so I didn't know if I was actually peeing but it sure felt like that was what I was doing- with urgency. So when the nurse came in and checked me and told me I was 10cm I quickly told her. "I think I am pushing." She left the room and I told Doug, "I have to push. I have to push now!"

He called the nurse in and before I knew it the big stage lights came on, the room filled with people and I was pushing. It seemed like there were at least a dozen nurses standing in the room and one of them came up to me between pushes. She introduced herself as a student nurse and asked if she could attend the birth. "Are you serious?! What?! I don't care who you are? Get down there with the rest of the peanut gallery and stop interrupting my pushing!" was all I could think. Thankfully the words that came out were much more polite. Something like, "Sure. I don't mind."

After about 10 minutes of pushing I asked the nurse how much longer this was going to be. I wasn't ready to quit, although it was the hardest thing I had every been through and I wasn't done yet, I just needed to know so that I could know it would end eventually. She told me three more sets of three pushes. I thought for sure she was lying. I figured she was trying to make me feel better about the hours of endless pushing I had ahead of me. Wouldn't you know it... She was telling the truth! Out he came! I recall hearing my doctor saying "Short cord. Short cord." as he laid on my lower abdomen. His back was to me as they cleaned him up, cut the cord and whisked him to the bassinet for scoring and measurement. I still hadn't seen his face.

I learned that he weighed 8 pounds 10 ounces. And then he was finally brought over to me. It was love at first sight. Even if his face was all squished up. He made me a mom. I'm convinced it is the best gift I will ever be given.