Sweet Irish

Irish is now 5 weeks old and I am just now sitting down to write her birth story.  It's been a bit busy with Olive and Irish both doing their own thing and that own thing never seems to be the same thing unless its what time to eat.  Convenient.

As some of  you may know, the Baby Place is now New Beginnings Baby Place.  With the changes and a few other turn-offs, the closer it got to my due date the more nervous I was to have the baby.  Tren and I discussed it and we were going to have my mom there for the birth, to be the alert and sane person in the room.  I had no idea what Tren was going to do this time around, and I was going to be the one having the baby and who knows what could happen there!  So, she was on call and excited to see a water birth.

At one of my appointments, I was told I had to make it to 37 weeks in order to have Irish at the birth center.  I guess if I was in labor before 37 weeks, I went to the hospital?  I don't even know, actually.  37 weeks for me was Friday, August 10th.  I would have one week of work left after my 37 week mark.  That gave me 2 weeks to relax before the baby got here or to have the baby and not go into labor at work.  I was scared that was going to happen since I now work in Caldwell and not 30 seconds away in Meridian.  I was supposed to have an appointment on Tuesday the 7th, but it was cancelled because a mother was in labor and they cancelled all appointments for the rest of the day.  So I rescheduled for the next Monday.

Thursday, the 9th of August, I took Olive in for her 1 year check-up and shots.  That evening Olive broke out in a fever and this fever continued on through the night and actually on to Sunday night.  I decided to stay home from work on Friday to be with her.  We didn't do anything but sit around and snuggle and take doses of Tylenol to try and keep the fever down.  She was miserable.  I felt so bad for her.  Friday night, Tren was giving Olive her bath and I went to take a shower.  It was then that I discovered something.  My belly button was now poking in instead of out.  After the major signs I had and ignored when I was pregnant with Olive, I swore I wasn't going to miss one with Irish.  I went to Tren and asked if he thought it looked different and he confirmed it was now in.  Thank goodness I took a shower, because I probably wouldn't have noticed this otherwise.  I called my mom and told her the news ...  "my belly button looks different, you're on call!"  I'm sure she just brushed this off as sillyness.  After that, I told Belle to get herself an overnight bag ready to go and I got Olive's ready too.  I had already packed for myself and Irish earlier in the week.  I almost texted Becky Brown to tell her to be on call too, but I decided not to.

We got the girls tucked in bed and around 10:30, I went to bed.  Tren stayed up watching TV until about midnight.  Around 12:40am, I felt a little wetness in my drawers and laid stiff as a board thinking "ohhhh crap! please no!"  After a few seconds, I slowly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.  I sat on the toilet trying not to cry and or panic.  I peed.  Nothing else kept on coming out, like it had when my water broke with Olive.  So, I stood up and still, nothing.  So I stood there for a minute.  Looked at my pregnant self in the mirror for a minute thinking how it couldn't be happening already.  Lordy.  Then after no more fluids came out, I went back to bed.  I laid there for a minute waiting for the contractions and nothing.  But I just knew this was it. So, I announced to Tren that I "thought" my water had just broke.  It wasnt the "pop!" like last time, so I wasn't positive. We talked about if we should call someone because I wasn't totally sure and then in the heat of the moment I decided I didn't want mom there for the birth I wanted her to stay home with sick Olive and take care of her.  We kept talking and I just laid there and then the flood gates were lifted and I said "oh crappp!  It really did!!" Tren popped right up and called the Baby Place, excuse me, New Beginnings Baby Place, and I called my mom.  Dad answered and I said "my water just broke" and he said "your water just broke?" and I said yes and then he said to Mom "Emmy's water just broke" and handed her the phone.  I told her we had decided we would go alone and that I'd rather she stayed at the house with the girls since Olive wasnt feeling good.  So, they said they'd be on the way.  Then I started crying.  I was feeling so sad for my baby Olive and was feeling bad leaving her in the middle of the night when she was so miserable.  After this panic, Tren decided to call Becky and see if she could come over and she was right over.  I was under control and ready to go when my parents arrived.  By then, Tren had convinced me that he wanted my mom to go with us still and Becky could just stay at the house until the girls woke up and then take them to her house.  So, Dad and Mom hopped in their car and Tren and I hopped in ours and we were off.  We didnt quite make it in 12 minutes like last time, which was fine.  I was feeling anxious and didnt want to get there and face what was to come. 

The doors to the birth center were locked when we got there.  After knocking and a contraction or two, Rachel answered and we went in.  Dad stayed in the waiting area and Tren, Mom and I went to the back bedroom.  Rachel was the only one there.  I stood at the bed and Rachel said I could lay down if I wanted to.  I wanted that tub filling.  I told her I wasnt going to do it in the bed and I wanted the tub to fill up.  She turned the water on and started bringing over the birth stool and the birth ball (or whatever it is called) and I just stood there leaking all over the floor not wanting anything to do with those things and wanting the tub to fill quick.  Mom told me to tell her I didnt want any of the things she was bringing out so I did and she put them away.  I asked Rachel to check me to see how close I was to go time and she did and said I was ready to push whenever I wanted to.  "whenever" I wanted to... which was not any time soon!  I laid on the bed and breathed through the contractions because I was not having Irish on that bed,... all exposed and out there and uncomfortable.  Finally the tub was filled enough so I could get in.  I got in and she said again I could push if I wanted to.  Well, I didnt want to, so I didnt. Tren took his spot behind me outside the tub.  The tub was completely filled so again I could push if I 'wanted' to.  No thanks.  I did give a few pushes and all the pain and memories came flying back from just a year ago and I really didn't want to push.  At all.  I shook my head...  I said "I don't want to do this"... "I can't do this"...  over and over.  Soon Sarah arrived and I asked if they needed to check Irish's heartbeat.  Sarah did this and Irish was calm and peaceful.  I gave a few good pushes, but I was getting cramps in my hips during my contractions and pushing and that made me stop pushing early and waste the contractions.  After what seemed like forever to me, probably because half the time I was just sitting there soaking and saying "I dont want to do this", Mom told me, in only the way your mother can, to Push.  I didn't want to because it hurt so bad, but because she told me to I did. (how weird is it that my mother can still have this control over me?)  She helped me push and breathe and then push and breathe.  Rachel and Sarah both told me good good good.  Tren was there pushing with me. :)  Irish was getting close and Rachel told me to give a really big push and then breathe and then she would coax me how to keep pushing with my next contraction.  So, I gave a really big push and holy mother! I think I pushed harder than she'd expected because Irish's head popped out and it hurt so bad and I reacted to the pain and tried to get away from it and without thinking started standing up or backing away.  That was the worst feeling.ever.  I sat back down in shock and she said to push again and get her out all the way.  My body was confused, and I couldnt focus to push.  Rachel pretty much twisted Irish and pulled her out.  I swear I felt every little bone in her body as it came out.  But there was my little sweet, big lipped baby.  Irish had humongous lips!  They were bright red too.  This was funny.  She seemed so little and had long arms and huge hands and even bigger feet.  But those lips!  They were killing me.

Irish Walker Sundquist
August 11, 2012 2:26am
6lbs 8oz 20inches

Something funny...  When Sarah was measuring and weighing Irish... the first time she measured her, she got 20 inches.  Irish looked longer than that.  So she decided to do it again and asked Tren for his help.  She had Tren hold the measuring tape and the top of Irish's head.  She held the end where the measurement was read.  She got 20.5 inches this time.  After she left, Tren admitted that he was afraid he was going to push too hard on Irish's head, so the tape slipped a little.  At the pediatrician's office, 2 days after Irish was born, their measurement was 19 and 3/8" long.  She shrunk. So, her real length is unknown.

Blogspot has changed things since I blogged last and I don't know how to add pictures.  Annoying.  So, I'll try and figure this out and attach some when I get the chance.