Lyla's Birth Story

My mom always told me that babies kill brain cells, and you know what? It's true. Lyla was born five months ago, and already, I feel that some of the specific details of her birth feel foggy. I never want to forget the most wonderful, painful, life altering day I've ever encountered, so that leaves us here. Shall we begin?

I was seven days past my due date, and I was MISERABLE. (PSA: If your doctor tells you that you will go into labor early, just know fate will have you being late. That's just how it works - ask anyone). I was starting my second year teaching special education at a local middle school, and I had quickly grown tired (literally) of walking up and down long hallways all.day.long. I stuck it out for as long as I could and smiled through coworkers asking every day, "You haven't gone into labor yet?!" I have to admit, I was wondering the same thing. Where was this baby?!

On that seventh day, Kyle and I headed to the OBGYN to get checked for progress. We packed our hospital bags in the car and dropped off our dog, Raleigh, at the in laws - just in case. The midwife checked me, and praise sweet baby Jesus, I was dilated to a three. YES! But I still technically wasn't in labor. The midwife couldn't believe I hadn't gone into labor on my own yet, but I guess Lyla is stubborn (like her parents). The midwife monitored the baby's heart rate for 30 minutes and checked her fluid levels, and thankfully, decided that I didn't need to wait any longer. She told me to grab a light lunch and head to the hospital.

To be honest, this wasn't at all how I imagined this happening. I assumed I would have the slow beginnings of labor in the comfort of my own home, like all the forums described. WRONG. I didn't want to be induced but couldn't stand the idea of waiting a moment longer to meet my daughter, so I didn't protest.

Kyle and I decided to grab some Publix subs before we headed to the hospital. Mine was plain jane turkey with a little mayo (I was trying to eat bland foods so I wouldn't get sick later - epic fail, y'all). I managed to choke down half the sandwich and some fruit despite my excitement/nervousness, wrapped up the other half to take with us, and headed to the hospital.

On the way there, Kyle was giddy and excited while I was quiet and reflective. I was trying to wrap my mind around what was about to occur. All the planning, research, prayers, appointments, baby showers, all of it came down to this day. It was time. Holy freaking crap.

Within 30 minutes of arriving at the hospital, we were taken back to our delivery room. It was massive with beautiful cherry hardwood floors, space for Kyle to sleep and even a flat screen TV.  Kyle and I don't have cable, and as silly as it sounds, I was pretty excited to be able to watch HGTV while I was laboring. A full day with Chip and Joanna AND room service -am I about to give birth, or am I on vacation?

Our room could easily fit plenty of our family members and good thing, because we were already growing a fan base in the waiting room eager to meet LC. It was a busy afternoon in the Labor and Delivery Unit, so I only saw a nurse once every hour or two. Eventually, someone finally came in and hooked me up to my first Pitocin dose (affectionately nicknamed Devil's Juice, if that tells you anything).

For those few hours following my first dose, I felt nothing. Literally nothing. My nurse would look on the monitor, see a contraction, and I wouldn't even know it had happened. Kyle smiled at me and said, "maybe you're a lot stronger than you think you are. Maybe your body is handling the contractions like a champ." I smiled back and hoped for the best, but I was pretty sure the hard part had yet to arrive. In the mean time, we had family come into the room. We socialized, laughed and killed time for about an hour. In fact, I was feeling so good that I wolfed down the other half of my sandwich despite the nurse telling me not to eat anything. What can I say? This mama-to-be was HANGRY.

Finally, they decided to double my dose. I started to feel some pain, so I sent my family back out into the waiting room and prepared myself for what was to come. I was hurting but still able to talk through the contractions. Soon afterward, the midwife came in and broke my water (which, for the record, is completely disgusting. I felt like I had peed on myself). That's when things got intense.

Simply put, the midwife was wonderfully witty. She helped me to laugh through my pain and even feel calm during the entire labor. She told me that I was a star patient and the only momma to-be on the hallway that was having a "textbook labor." I wasn't sure if she was lying or not, but I definitely felt so blessed to not have any stresses or scares like a lot of other moms have.

A piece of advice I was given (and had intended to follow) was to ask for the epidural when things got extremely painful but not completely unbearable. I was there. I had dilated to a 5 and turned to my nurse and announced "I'm ready for the epidural!" She gave me a confused look and replied, "Really? Already?"

Uh...just kidding? I felt like such a wimp! I needed to be a warrior mama and endure this labor for a little longer, so I settled for a dose of fentanyl. At best, this medicine took the edge off for a grand total of fifteen minutes and made me get dizzy and throw up in the process. I was in completely unbearable pain afterwards.

Lyla was sunny side up, so I had 100% back labor. I didn't feel a single contraction in my stomach. Bluntly put, it felt like someone was trying to rip my lower back in half. When I told my nurse about my contractions, she laughed and said she would rather have 100 normal labors over one back labor. Well good, now I feel better!

What happens next is a little hazy. I remember writhing on the bed calling out to God to help me. I didn't care who saw or heard me. I remember briefly opening my eyes and seeing my always calm and collected husband look utterly terrified. I honestly think he was on the verge of calling in an exorcist. It was NOT pretty.

By the time the anesthesiologist arrived (my new BFF), I was dilated to a seven. I was completely unconcerned about the giant needle that I had been dreading going into my spine. I just needed relief as soon as possible.

The anesthesiologist was a petite, pretty young blonde, who we were certain was far too young to have such a stressful job, but I quickly brushed off my initial judgements and gladly took the epidural. Man, those things are amazing. Up until a few weeks before labor, I had considered forgoing the epidural. I have SO much respect for the mamas who choose to do without, because honestly, that takes guts and a ton of perseverance. The unspeakable pain I was feeling quickly turned into a strong thump in my lower back every 30 seconds or so. My nurse told me to get some rest while I still could, so I tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately, those strong thumps caused too much pressure in my lower back for me to take a catnap, so they upped the epidural. By the time I was actually drugged enough to get some shut eye, the midwife came in and checked me. I had dilated to a ten.

Because the midwife had so many other patients that night, she told me she would be back in about a half a hour. I checked the clock, and it was around 10:30. Oh man, Lyla may actually be born on 8/16/16! No way anyone could forget that birthday! Fast forward an hour later, the midwife finally returned. Time to push!

(I'll skip the lovely details of that part of the story).

A mere 30 minutes later, at 12:03 in the morning, Lyla was born, weighing in at 8 pounds 12 ounces and 21 and a half inches long. 8/17/16. I still maintain she should have been born on 8/16 and blame it on the tardiness of the midwife. Immediately, Lyla's identifier with the L&D staff was "the baby with all the hair." Yup, that was our wild headed baby, and we couldn't have been prouder to claim her.

In total, my entire labor from starting pitocin to giving birth was around 7.5-8 hours. I've heard of plenty of first time moms who endured twenty four hour labors or longer, so I felt EXTREMELY lucky.

You would think things calm down once the baby arrives, but that's not true. As soon as she was born, she was weighed, measured and put on my chest for a little skin to skin time. Wanting to take advantage of those first moments, I immediately tried breastfeeding, and surprisingly, she seemed to already have an understanding of what she was supposed to do. She was then bathed, examined further, and Kyle got his skin to skin time with her. By the time family was actually able to come into our room, it was after four. For those who sat around the waiting room for hours on end, please consider this my formal apology. Havin' babies takes A LOT of time.


After everyone left, we were (FINALLY!) moved to our postnatal room and Kyle set off to get me something to eat. Thank goodness, the beautiful golden arches resided in our hospital. He got me a sausage biscuit, hash browns and a large coke, and OH MY WORD, that had to have been the best meal I've ever eaten in my entire life. Seriously, I could write a new blog post on how miraculous food tastes after labor. OMG. I'm getting hungry just writing about it.

As crazy as this sounds, for months after her birth, I caught myself wanting to relive the entire experience - pain and all. Giving birth, in my opinion, is the most selfless thing a woman can do. I went through the worst pain I've ever experienced because I desperately wanted to meet my daughter. I gave every ounce of strength I had in me to get her in my arms as soon as possible, because the idea of keeping her in my stomach for a moment longer was far more unbearable than the pain of giving birth to her. This entire paragraph probably sounds conceited, and maybe it is, but I've never felt stronger, calmer, or more content in my entire life than I did when Kyle and I brought Lyla into the world. On that day, I became a mother and Kyle became a father. Everything changed for the better. It was the most beautiful experience, and I can't imagine anything coming close to what I felt on the day we welcomed Lyla into our family.