I thought I would get a chance to write about Beatrice's birth before now, but already Conor and I have realized that although newborns sleep for about 18 hours a day, the allotment of sleep for new parents is somewhat less to say the least!
So here's the story. On Sunday, we had the most beautiful weather here in Greenville--70 degrees and sunny. So Conor and I decided to take advantage and spend a lot of time outdoors. We walked downtown to have lunch and study and then Conor went off to soccer practice while I went to run some errands. Around 5:30 pm, I called our doula, Kelly, (for those not in the know, a doula is a woman who provides emotional support and help for a couple during childbirth) just to let her know that I was SURE that labor was not imminent. Despite past the due date, I wasn't having any contractions and felt sure the baby was still a long ways off. Turns out I was wrong.
About an hour after having assured Kelly I was not going into labor, I went into labor. At first I thought my busy day of walking had just worn me out so I laid in the bed for a bit and then took a hot bath, but nothing seemed to help the contractions that I was feeling. Conor and I rationalized for a bit that perhaps I was just suffering through a case of food poisoning (nothing like a little denial when you are 9 1/2 months pregnant), and decided to call Kelly to see what she thought. Kelly said it sounded like early labor and made her way over to our house around 10pm on Sunday.
By the time Kelly arrived, I was in some serious pain. My contractions were coming so quickly--it was nothing like the day I had pictured in my mind where I would have several hours to tidy up the house, watch a movie, take a nice long walk with Conor, etc. When our labor started, it got cranked right up! The contractions were lasting about 45-50 seconds with only about a minute break in between them.
All of our birthing plans flew right out the window of course. I now know that you cannot thwart Mother nature. Not with a birthing ball or a warm bath or aromatherapy or hynotherapy or massage or visualization or meditation. All of these were in our birth "plan" to use to get distract from the pain, but I quickly realized there is no way to distract yourself from the fact that an 8 pound baby is trying to squeeze out of you.
So instead, I spent several hours standing with my head against our hallway wall moaning and trying to remind myself to breathe. Around 10:30 pm, we called our nurse-midwife Frieda to consult. Frieda decided to head on to the hospital and get some sleep in the on-call room until we decided to come in. We managed to labor at the house until 1:30 am and I honestly already can hardly remember what was going on during those hours. I know we put some DVDs on (Dirty Dancing and 50 First Dates) and I attempted to take a few baths, but pretty much I just walked around groaning and moaning. Finally we decided to head on in and endured a car ride from hell. Unfortunately, our route to the hospital meant driving down 5th Street--Greenville's bumpiest boulevard. In the 15 minutes it took us to get there I think I had 7 or 8 contractions--no fun.
We got to the hospital at 1:30am, and they recognized that my labor was going strong and took us right back to our room where we learned to our delight that I was already 7 cms dilated. As soon as Frieda told us that, I said, "Seven centimeters--AWESOME!" and high-fived all the nursing staff who was in the room. Frieda said if I could get through about one more hour or so of contractions, the baby would be nearly here, so I resolved to endure without any meds. The next hour and a half are a blur. I spent most of it standing up by the side of the bed or in the shower. Conor and Kelly were amazing at being supportive and pretty much everyone let me do my thing. We kept the lights down and everyone was very quiet (except for me).
Around 3:15am Frieda told us that if we wanted her to break the water, pushing would be imminent. I was quite ready to get the baby out of me by then, so I said yes please. I got in the bed and Frieda broke the water which was actually totally painless and then they told me to push!
I pushed for 10 minutes and Beatrice Anne Harrison arrived into this world! My first words were "That wasn't that bad!" as they laid her onto my chest. Conor was very brave and managed not to faint during the entire thing. However, as soon as Beatrice had arrived, I think all of the excitement caught up with him, and he excused himself to take a seat in the corner. Next thing I know, Baby Beatrice is happily laying on my chest and Conor is in the corner of the room eating some cheese and trying not to pass out. Beatrice was the most beautiful thing we have ever seen of course. Actually I think I said in the first moments of her birth that she reminded me of a little hobbit--very red and wrinkled and extremely mad at being disturbed from her happy home of 9 months. After a few minutes though, she started to transform before our very eyes to the most beautiful little baby girl--head full of strawberry-blonde hair and very dark blue eyes, extremely long hands and feet, and a little dimple on her right cheek. She is everything we every could have dreamed of and are so happy with our new little one!
Yesterday we enjoyed 70 degree temperatures, so even though it was a bit cloudy, we decided to spend the afternoon outdoors. Conor and I loaded Beatrice up in her stroller and took her on her first picnic. There is a park on the Tar River that is about a fifteen minute walk from our house, so we headed to downtown to pick up some food and then strolled over to enjoy some time at the park. The second Beatrice gets in her carseat, she zonks out, so she slept the whole time, but Conor and I enjoyed ourselves. Conor is getting really good at copying Beatrice's funny faces, as the third photo demonstrates. She definitely looks more and more like him (in my opinion!)
