Here's The Story...

Everyone knows I’m a planner and you can bet that I had already planned out the perfect birthing experience in my mind early in my pregnancy. However, God had a different plan in mind…one that was truly perfect.

On Thursday, April 2 I went to my 34 week doctor’s appointment. During the visit I told the midwife that I was concerned because I had been having what I thought were really strong Braxton-Hicks contractions. I was also experiencing a lot of pressure and a few other symptoms that just didn’t feel right to me. She was very nonchalant about the whole issue—and I assume she just dismissed me as “just another first time mom.” My instincts told me that I should have had her check me, but I didn’t want to be rude so I didn’t push the issue. She said she would start checking me at my 36 week appointment. When I asked again about the contractions and told her that I had 30 contractions the day before, she told me that I didn’t need to do anything until I felt six painful contractions in one hour. Before she left she said, “If you go into labor now, we won’t do anything to stop it.”

As we walked out of the office, Ben and I discussed the fact that all of the books stated that doctors won’t stop your labor if you are past 37 weeks, but here we were at only 34 weeks being told that my doctors wouldn’t stop me if I went into labor. We were slightly confused, but felt pretty good because if they wouldn’t stop labor that meant that the baby would be fine if she were born now…right?

That Saturday was the day that I counted as the first day of Spring Break. We spent most of the day trying to get the house organized and ready for Genevieve. I had been experiencing contractions all day, but I didn’t want to bother the doctors because I was literally waiting for 6 painful contractions in one hour. While I did have at least 6 contractions in an hour, I didn’t know if they were painful enough to be considered “painful” by the doctor’s standard. By late-afternoon both of us were tired so we made a mental list of everything we would accomplish the next day, including washing the baby’s clothes, packing my bag, installing the car seat, etc. Little did we know that God had other plans in mind.

I continued to have contractions throughout the day and Ben kept asking me if we needed to call the doctor. I didn’t think the contractions were real because I was only 34 weeks so I just dismissed them much in the same way my doctor dismissed them. When we went to bed, I couldn’t sleep because of the pain, but since I didn’t think it was real I didn’t bother waking Ben up. At around 1:00 a.m. the contractions were about 2 minutes apart, but I was still in denial. At 2:00 a.m. I got up to go to the bathroom and that is when I started hemorrhaging…a lot. At that point I had to admit to myself that something was going on so I woke Ben up, called the doctor, and headed for the emergency room.

When we got to the hospital at around 2:40 the nurse saw the amount of blood that was coming out of me and the look on her face said it all. For the first time, I was completely terrified that something was wrong. The contractions started coming stronger and closer together and since my childbirth class was still three weeks away, I had to be given a crash course in Lamaze. The midwife came in shortly after we arrived to check me (this was not the same midwife I had seen only 3 short days prior to this). She told me that since I was only 34 weeks they were going to stop my labor—I knew I wasn’t crazy to think that it was strange that the other midwife said they wouldn’t stop my labor at 34 weeks! She began checking me and I was convinced she was going to tell me that I was barely 1 cm so imagine my surprise when she said, “You’re 8 cm. You’re having a baby today!”

In response to hearing that I was 8 cm, I believe my exact words were, “Holy Crap! Can I have an epidural, please?” The nurse was trying to be very reassuring, but I could tell she didn’t have much confidence in the prospect of me receiving an epidural. Around that time, I remember hearing the midwife discussing the hemorrhaging. She kept saying that it was a lot of blood and she couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. She told the nurse to go ahead and call the anesthesiologist so I could get my epidural (I found out later that she thought the bleeding had something to do with how quickly I was progressing so she ordered the epidural in an attempt to slow my labor down).

While I was waiting for my epidural (about 20 minutes or so) I continued to labor with Ben on one side of me and my mother-in-law, Marilyn, on the other side. The contractions were pretty constant at that point and the only way I could feel a little relief was to push against Ben’s hand and roll my body practically off of the bed. At one point Marilyn asked if I wanted to hold her hand, but I was convinced that I would break it if I did so she held my legs and kept me from falling off of the bed instead.

Finally, my new buddy Norman arrived to deliver the sweet stuff. As soon as he got the medicine in me, I was a changed woman! Ahhh, glorious relief!

By that time I was 9 ½ cm. I didn’t really know this, but everyone said that I actually experienced the worst part of the pain because the pushing is somewhat relieving. But, I did get to escape the Ring of Fire, so I’m glad I got the epidural.

The midwife told me that she would be back in an hour to check me. Umm, what?! An hour?! I didn’t see how it was possible for me to go a whole hour with only a ½ cm left. Sure enough, I started pushing 10 minutes later.

Not only were my plans drastically changed, but Ben’s were as well. From the day he found out I was pregnant his plan had been to stay at my head during delivery. You know, the “good side.” However, when I started pushing the midwife rolled up a towel and gave one end to Ben and told him to stand in front of me and pull against me so my pushes would be stronger. So we played tug-of-war during the entire pushing phase while Ben got to “enjoy” a front row seat!

After 40 minutes of pushing Genevieve Olivia Stark was born. She came out crying, which was a relief since she was so early. That cry was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. They placed her on my tummy as they cleaned her off and at that moment my whole heart swelled with an all-consuming love for my little girl.

Genevieve Olivia Stark

Born 4/5/09 at 5:27 a.m.

5 pounds, 10 ounces

19 inches long

My labor progressed so quickly that I didn't have time to get into the hospital gown. I delivered Genevieve while wearing my Gamecocks t-shirt!