First of all--if you haven't heard the song--"Fingerprints of God" you are missing out. It is a wonderful song that I often hear on the radio and relate to my husband and now 2 beautiful children. Part of the verse goes "I can see the fingerprints of God--when I look at you." You just know and believe in God and his creation when you see evidence of his wonderful miracles.
This blog is written for Alaina so she knows how she made it into this world--Hopefully I will persuade Dad to write his version so she may also have that.
Tuesday morning (Sept 23rd) I woke up early as usual--but something was different. I went downstairs, grabbed a bite to eat and snuggled in on the couch. It was just before 5. That is when I had a contraction. Big deal--I am used to them by now. I have been having them pretty consistently for 10 days now. After two more followed within the half hour I did feel that something was different about them this time. Within an hour I had 6. Still--I wondered if this was really something or not--I had often had contractions for several hours 10 minutes apart--yet I had a feeling this was it. I waited for one more--and decided that if it happened within 10 minutes I was going to wake Rob and let him know that I was thinking today was the day. I walked upstairs during that contraction and woke him up. We sat in bed a little bit and timed them together. They were still coming 10 minutes apart. We went downstairs and started planning our day.
We called Nana around 6:30 just to give her a heads up and let her know that we may be needing her today. We then waited for Ky to get up, we had breakfast, I did some laundry, Rob vacuumed--basically we were trying to get the house in order for the big event. Contractions were still around 8 - 10 minutes apart. I then suggested that we go for a walk so that I could walk ourselves into a quicker labor. This appeared to help. As we walked my contractions increased to 4 - 7 minutes apart. I was getting happy. I was ready to get this over with and get back to my old self--not to mention meet our newest family member. There is a park nearby in our neighborhood and I suggested that we stop there and let Ky play while I do some further timing of contractions. Once I sat down on the bench my contractions stopped. ARGH! I was pretty angry. I didn't want to be the one that cried wolf--yet how would I know? This was the closest I have gotten! I told Rob, lets walk home and he can go to work for the remainder of the day. We ate lunch together and Rob left.
Of course, and oddly enough the contractions then began again. At this point I had planned to resume my day. I was in a rush and was ready to leave for the Y. However, prior to this, I was timing and realized that my contractions were now 5 -7 minutes apart and getting stronger. Hmmm....I had decided already though that I was going to work--and if it was really labor I would know soon for sure.
I traveled to work and noticed that my contractions were indeed getting stronger. I let my coworkers know what is going on. My boss informed the building manager and the told me that she was scared that I was going to give birth at the Y and wanted me sent home. We laughed and I continued to work my shift. I continued to time the contractions and they were often 4 -5 minutes apart, yet not strong enough for me to rush to the hospital--just enough to be a nuisance. At around 3:00 I realized that I would not be able to go to bed like this tonight. I called Rob and recommended that we call his mom and see if she would be willing to come to our house after work tonight and help with Ky. Rob agrees and does so. At 5:00 I leave work and break down into tears as I drive home. I realize I have been contracting for 12 hours--yet nothing to go to the hospital with. I begin to pray that God would break my water or strengthen the contractions--ANYTHING. I cry all the way home. Ky keeps asking me why I am laughing. I tell him I am not laughing. I just can't deal with this day anymore!
I got home and parked the car in the driveway, let Ky out of his car seat and called my mom--after all she is a pro--she had four kids. Ky is playing in the driveway as I am bawling to her. I am so tired of pointless contractions. I want to sleep again. Why am I being tortured like this? Rob pulls into the driveway, and he is clearly concerned and wondering what is wrong with me. He has no idea why I am crying or who I am on the phone with. Then it happened. I was having a contraction and feeling the pressure build when my water broke. Down my legs, on to the driveway and for the first time I felt relief. Not just from the pressure build-up, but also because now we were finally getting somewhere. I yelled to my mom "My water just broke" and hung up on her. Looking back at this, I bet she was then a mess--wondering if I could get to the hospital, or if Rob was around, etc... But all I was thinking was God had answered my prayers. He heard me. Today was the day after all. Hallelujah!
At that point Rob tells me his mom will be there any minute. She actually left work early to come be with us. Another work from God--first of all--how else was I given an urge--or directive to have Rob's mom come and secondly for her to leave work early--more evidence of his presence in my life and how he watches over me--and for those that don't understand why this is a miracle--Rob's mom lives 1.5 hours away. She was our sitter for Ky. When your water breaks you are supposed to go immediately to the hospital because the baby could come right away--plus you increase your chance of infection the longer you are not monitored and undelivered.
Not to mention how awesome was it for my water to break outside! No mess to clean up!
So at that point we ran inside, drippy legs and all and finished packing our bags. I called the hospital to let them know we were coming in. I also sat down to eat some food (I learned this from the last labor) and sent out a few quick emails and updated the blog.
Rob layered his seat with a trash bag---yeah I was leaking fluid everywhere and off we went. On the drive I called family members and let them know we were on the way to the hospital. I also noticed the contractions were increasing in intensity.
We arrived at the hospital and then made our long walk to the maternity ward. And it was a long walk--with me leaking fluid along the way--yuck and how embarrassing.
We checked into triage and they checked me out. First the confirmed my water had indeed broke, second they confirmed my contractions, third they confirmed my baby had a head--okay funny story here. So a first year resident comes to do an ultrasound to make sure the baby is head down, and yeah she couldn't find the head. She was a very nice girl--but as a Dr. I really don't think you should ever tell your patient (me) that you can't find their baby's head. Now I knew my child had a head, so it really didn't bother me, but I did find it amusing that she told me "I can't find your baby's head, I am going to call another Dr."
They also confirmed I was 4 cm dilated (yeah! the day before I had been 1 cm. dilated) and I was 90% effaced by 7 PM. Now here was the problem. They had so many patients laboring that they did not have enough rooms for everyone--including me and a couple of other women in triage. Well Rob was disheartened by not getting a room (especially one with a jetted tub.) I guess I was a tad bummed too--but honestly, I was just so happy that I was truly in labor that I had little to complain about.
They hooked me up to an IV--something I also was trying to avoid with this labor, but I was informed that since I was high risk (VBAC) I had no choice. I named my new buddy "Frankie" and we made the best of the situation. Also, because I was a high risk patient and they were overbooked I did get strapped to my bed for a while. This sucked because my doc had told me that they had remote monitors that I could wear so I could get out of bed and walk around. Luckily I had a great nurse-Felicia-who retrieved one for me later--so I did lots of walking.
At 10:30 I scared Rob. I had contraction after contraction after contraction. Hey--I was focusing on my breathing--but couldn't talk--it kind of freaked him out and he pulled the emergency cord. I had a roomful of people run in and then my water broke--again. I guess this happens sometimes. Anyways they checked me again because they thought I might be ready to give birth right away. They discovered I was 7 cm. YEAH ME! Our nurse then informed us that a birthing suite had opened up and I was in competition with the lady in the triage room next to me for the room. Whoever was going to "go" first was going to get it. I guess the other lady was a pro at birthing because she won the room. However, I had convinced the staff I was going to go soon as well so they started looking for other options of places to deliver me. (The triage room was really too small to do a delivery in--and the supplies were lacking.) My triage nurse was a little stressed as well since she had never had anyone deliver in triage before.
I also need to add at this point that I did not have my own bathroom. So each time I had to go (which was pretty often—think IV) I had to walk back to the triage area and use a shared restroom—and yes I wheeled Frankie with me. Rob also started coming with me when I had Frankie since navigating became a little difficult.
Once in the recovery room they quickly began rearranging and bringing in things for a delivery. The contractions continued to get hard and strong and I was getting excited about having the baby. Then midnight came and things began to turn. My contractions were still strong, but they started getting farther apart (5 -7 minutes.) It was really bizarre how the changing of rooms coincided with this phenomenon. Around 1 AM I asked to be checked again. I knew that I wasn’t dilating like I should have been. Sure enough I was still at 7 cm. At this point I should have been near 10.
I started changing positions hoping that something would stimulate the contractions to move closer together. Nothing seemed to work. Eventually the Dr. came and visited and said, Pitocin, C-Section, or Epidural. Any or all were options I had. I did not want to choose any at the time so I continued to labor slowly. Some contractions were rough, but because they were not frequent I was actually starting to doze in the downtime. Rob and I discussed our options and decided that we would try and epidural. At this point I was feeling that a C-section was more probable and I wanted to be awake for our baby’s arrival. The Dr. had also said it might help me to relax more and let my body just take over.
If you remember my blog of Ky’s birth you remember that the epidural was the worst part. Previous to this delivery I had written a birthing plan for Rob and included info on what he needed to do if I got an epidural. Rob was great. He made sure that the anesthesiologist talked me through it and he held me tight. It was nothing nearly as horrific as the first time---and at one point the tube was outside of my spine, which was very uncomfortable—and he had to readjust.
We got the epidural around 4 AM and I laid on my left side hoping to get the contractions going again. I was talking to Rob, when a nurse ran into our room and started yelling at me to roll over to my other side. It was then that I realized that our baby’s heart rate had drastically slowed. The nurse began yelling for a doctor. She had me lay back and rubbed my stomach. The heart rate remained labored. She then inserted her hand and tickled the baby’s head. The heart rate went up for a second but continued to slow.
At this point she did get one other nurse to join her and they were looking for oxygen to give me—but had difficulty finding it since they were unfamiliar with the room. At some point they got a mask on me and the Dr. came in and informed me that I needed an emergency c-section. During this time I remember telling myself to stay calm and breathe. I knew that it was important to breathe deeply since they could not find the oxygen. I could not panic. When the Dr. said emergency c-section I could only nod my head yes. I remember a tear sliding down my face brought my attention back to my breathing. I really didn’t care at this point. I just wanted her to be okay. Thankfully her heart rate did return back to normal---but that was a very scary 5 minutes. Something I never want to relive again.
When the heart rate returned to normal, everything slowed down. The c-section was not as urgent, however they still did not want to waste any time. I was wheeled into the operating room and Rob put on his snazzy little white jump suit.
They were much nicer to me this time around in the operating room as well. I think my perspective is more positive this time around because I was prepared for the possibility of this happening—and I had been through it before. I was rolled over (like a beached whale) onto the operating table (epidurals make your legs feel like they weigh 200 lbs each.) Then I was disrobed and strapped to the table (seriously this is how it happens—and you wonder why I had a bad first experience.) The anesthesiologists were much nicer this time. They talked with me and even made a few bad jokes. After they numbed me completely I began to get the shakes badly. This I also expected since it happened last time.
Rob came in shortly after they started cutting. It took much longer this time to get the baby out since they were cutting through scar tissue. When the time came, they lowered the curtain so I could watch our baby pulled out. It was a moment I will never forget. I watched them pull out this pink child covered in goo and blood (not the prettiest picture but you don’t really focus on that when it is your child), the cord was hanging down. She was long and let out a raspy, yet solid cry. That was my little girl. They then whisked her away, pulled the curtain back up, and resumed their work. I remember asking Rob—“Is it a girl?” We knew the gender, but also know that it is not 100%. Rob didn’t know. It took a few minutes to get that verified.
Our little girl was born on her due date, September 24, at 5:24 AM.
They cleaned her up in the operating room and I listened as the nurses talked about her to Rob. Kylan was whisked to another room so I never got to listen or see much after that—plus Rob had left with him. Rob and I had a bet going on weight—he had said 7 lbs 12 oz, I said 8 lbs 2 oz. The nurse thought Rob was going to win—but I won when she weighed in at 8 lbs 5 oz. Shortly after that one of the nurses brought my placenta over for me to see (another request I had had.) It was neat to see this 2lb liver shaped organ that provided everything for my child. I also saw where the umbilical cord had been attached and the sac that she was in. Amazing! Isn’t it neat the way that God made our bodies!
Our little girl was brought over to me shortly afterwards. She had the chubbiest cheeks and my dark hair! But still resembled Kylan in so many ways! What a beautiful baby!
It took a long time for them to finish stitching me up and then in recovery for them to remove the epidural and clean me up. Finally I was able to hold my little girl. She was beautiful. So thin, yet her face was so chubby! She was so quiet. She had not cried since the moment they pulled her out of me. She seemed very content and just kept looking around.
The nurse placed her on my stomach—I was going to attempt to nurse. This little girl immediately rolled over and latched herself on. The nurse was amazed and so was I! And that pretty much describes her eating now. I have done very little to teach her how to latch on. She has been a natural at eating from the get go. I have been blessed to have 2 children who have so quickly taken to the breast.
To continue my amusing too many babies being born story, I was quickly kicked out of the recovery room since another birthing woman was coming. I was lucky in the fact that I got the last post partum room. I got moved up in priority since I had had a c-section. (There’s a blessing to a c-section, and more yet to come!)
By the way there were 14 babies born on Sept 24 at the hospital I was at, and another 10 or so at the other local hospital. A baby boom!
The Dr. came and talked to us later about the c-section. It turns out that while they were operating they discovered that my uterus was paper thin in the area of the incision. This meant that I would not have been able to push the baby out on my own. It also meant that I would have been a high risk for a uterine rupture. Another blessing to having a c-section. We talked a little further, and she confirmed that I could still have more children if I wanted to, but any future pregnancies would have to be via c-section and several weeks early.
Thank you God for slowing the contractions, and thank you God for not rushing me into letting them administer the pitocin—which would have started the contractions up again. Thank you God for the brief heart rate drop that alerted all of us that something was not right. All things happen for a reason and I know that God was watching over my daughter and I then.
We didn’t get much sleep on that Wednesday. The joy was too much! A girl to go with our boy. What family could be happier!? We did cat nap a little. At one point that morning the nurse took our girl to the nursery to bring her temperature up. She told me she would bring her back in 20 minutes. When more than an hour passed I sent Rob to get her. I was nervous and wanted her back in my vision. All was good, it just took a little longer than expected to get her temperature back up.
Rob and I waited until the nurse gave our baby girl a bath before we named her. She still had goo on her and we wanted to see her all cleaned up. Unfortunately, it was early afternoon until a nurse was free to do so (remember all the births!). After the bath, we discussed her name. We pretty much had two finalists. We had discussed naming her Leila if she had dark hair or Alaina. We chose Alaina. Alaina is the Gaelic form of Helen. It also matches her brother since he has a Gaelic name. Alaina means “little rock” or “beautiful joy” both of which I think fits her. Her middle name had been discussed for a long time. I liked the name Autumn because she was a fall baby and also because Rob’s mom’s last name is Herbst which is German for Autumn. We also liked the name Annaleen—which we made up—it combines 5 strong women in her life. G’ma Anna on Rob’s side, Ann is my middle name, G’ma Arlene on Rob’s side, Rob’s mom Kathleen, and my mom Maureen.
Autumn won out—it just fit better and because there are no Herbsts to continue the family name it seemed appropriate. So that is the story of her name. Alaina Autumn Schnake.
A few quick words on recovery. It was much easier this time. I knew what to expect and it didn’t hurt as much (I think because all my nerves down there are probably dead from being sliced twice.) I stood up by the end of that day. By the next day I was walking and they pulled out all my tubes. It was sad to see Frankie go—but I was ready. I even convinced the docs to let me go home a day early. The only concern I have had is with the large gaping hole on my left side. Apparently the skin did not come together right so I literally have this large area of ugliness and scariness. The docs have said that it is okay, it will just take longer to heal as I will have to wait for new skin to form over it.
Lastly, I must write about Kylan. As all of this was hardest on him. Ky stayed with Nana and G’ma Jan at our house. Rob had to stay with me at least a few days until I could get up to tend the baby. Ky visited us several times. He was obviously very confused. It appeared to him that we had moved to the hospital to live with this baby and left him with Nana. How hard this had to have been on him!
Once in the recovery room they quickly began rearranging and bringing in things for a delivery. The contractions continued to get hard and strong and I was getting excited about having the baby. Then midnight came and things began to turn. My contractions were still strong, but they started getting farther apart (5 -7 minutes.) It was really bizarre how the changing of rooms coincided with this phenomenon. Around 1 AM I asked to be checked again. I knew that I wasn’t dilating like I should have been. Sure enough I was still at 7 cm. At this point I should have been near 10.
I started changing positions hoping that something would stimulate the contractions to move closer together. Nothing seemed to work. Eventually the Dr. came and visited and said, Pitocin, C-Section, or Epidural. Any or all were options I had. I did not want to choose any at the time so I continued to labor slowly. Some contractions were rough, but because they were not frequent I was actually starting to doze in the downtime. Rob and I discussed our options and decided that we would try and epidural. At this point I was feeling that a C-section was more probable and I wanted to be awake for our baby’s arrival. The Dr. had also said it might help me to relax more and let my body just take over.
If you remember my blog of Ky’s birth you remember that the epidural was the worst part. Previous to this delivery I had written a birthing plan for Rob and included info on what he needed to do if I got an epidural. Rob was great. He made sure that the anesthesiologist talked me through it and he held me tight. It was nothing nearly as horrific as the first time---and at one point the tube was outside of my spine, which was very uncomfortable—and he had to readjust.
We got the epidural around 4 AM and I laid on my left side hoping to get the contractions going again. I was talking to Rob, when a nurse ran into our room and started yelling at me to roll over to my other side. It was then that I realized that our baby’s heart rate had drastically slowed. The nurse began yelling for a doctor. She had me lay back and rubbed my stomach. The heart rate remained labored. She then inserted her hand and tickled the baby’s head. The heart rate went up for a second but continued to slow.
At this point she did get one other nurse to join her and they were looking for oxygen to give me—but had difficulty finding it since they were unfamiliar with the room. At some point they got a mask on me and the Dr. came in and informed me that I needed an emergency c-section. During this time I remember telling myself to stay calm and breathe. I knew that it was important to breathe deeply since they could not find the oxygen. I could not panic. When the Dr. said emergency c-section I could only nod my head yes. I remember a tear sliding down my face brought my attention back to my breathing. I really didn’t care at this point. I just wanted her to be okay. Thankfully her heart rate did return back to normal---but that was a very scary 5 minutes. Something I never want to relive again.
When the heart rate returned to normal, everything slowed down. The c-section was not as urgent, however they still did not want to waste any time. I was wheeled into the operating room and Rob put on his snazzy little white jump suit.
They were much nicer to me this time around in the operating room as well. I think my perspective is more positive this time around because I was prepared for the possibility of this happening—and I had been through it before. I was rolled over (like a beached whale) onto the operating table (epidurals make your legs feel like they weigh 200 lbs each.) Then I was disrobed and strapped to the table (seriously this is how it happens—and you wonder why I had a bad first experience.) The anesthesiologists were much nicer this time. They talked with me and even made a few bad jokes. After they numbed me completely I began to get the shakes badly. This I also expected since it happened last time.
Rob came in shortly after they started cutting. It took much longer this time to get the baby out since they were cutting through scar tissue. When the time came, they lowered the curtain so I could watch our baby pulled out. It was a moment I will never forget. I watched them pull out this pink child covered in goo and blood (not the prettiest picture but you don’t really focus on that when it is your child), the cord was hanging down. She was long and let out a raspy, yet solid cry. That was my little girl. They then whisked her away, pulled the curtain back up, and resumed their work. I remember asking Rob—“Is it a girl?” We knew the gender, but also know that it is not 100%. Rob didn’t know. It took a few minutes to get that verified.
Our little girl was born on her due date, September 24, at 5:24 AM.
They cleaned her up in the operating room and I listened as the nurses talked about her to Rob. Kylan was whisked to another room so I never got to listen or see much after that—plus Rob had left with him. Rob and I had a bet going on weight—he had said 7 lbs 12 oz, I said 8 lbs 2 oz. The nurse thought Rob was going to win—but I won when she weighed in at 8 lbs 5 oz. Shortly after that one of the nurses brought my placenta over for me to see (another request I had had.) It was neat to see this 2lb liver shaped organ that provided everything for my child. I also saw where the umbilical cord had been attached and the sac that she was in. Amazing! Isn’t it neat the way that God made our bodies!
Our little girl was brought over to me shortly afterwards. She had the chubbiest cheeks and my dark hair! But still resembled Kylan in so many ways! What a beautiful baby!
It took a long time for them to finish stitching me up and then in recovery for them to remove the epidural and clean me up. Finally I was able to hold my little girl. She was beautiful. So thin, yet her face was so chubby! She was so quiet. She had not cried since the moment they pulled her out of me. She seemed very content and just kept looking around.
The nurse placed her on my stomach—I was going to attempt to nurse. This little girl immediately rolled over and latched herself on. The nurse was amazed and so was I! And that pretty much describes her eating now. I have done very little to teach her how to latch on. She has been a natural at eating from the get go. I have been blessed to have 2 children who have so quickly taken to the breast.
To continue my amusing too many babies being born story, I was quickly kicked out of the recovery room since another birthing woman was coming. I was lucky in the fact that I got the last post partum room. I got moved up in priority since I had had a c-section. (There’s a blessing to a c-section, and more yet to come!)
By the way there were 14 babies born on Sept 24 at the hospital I was at, and another 10 or so at the other local hospital. A baby boom!
The Dr. came and talked to us later about the c-section. It turns out that while they were operating they discovered that my uterus was paper thin in the area of the incision. This meant that I would not have been able to push the baby out on my own. It also meant that I would have been a high risk for a uterine rupture. Another blessing to having a c-section. We talked a little further, and she confirmed that I could still have more children if I wanted to, but any future pregnancies would have to be via c-section and several weeks early.
Thank you God for slowing the contractions, and thank you God for not rushing me into letting them administer the pitocin—which would have started the contractions up again. Thank you God for the brief heart rate drop that alerted all of us that something was not right. All things happen for a reason and I know that God was watching over my daughter and I then.
We didn’t get much sleep on that Wednesday. The joy was too much! A girl to go with our boy. What family could be happier!? We did cat nap a little. At one point that morning the nurse took our girl to the nursery to bring her temperature up. She told me she would bring her back in 20 minutes. When more than an hour passed I sent Rob to get her. I was nervous and wanted her back in my vision. All was good, it just took a little longer than expected to get her temperature back up.
Rob and I waited until the nurse gave our baby girl a bath before we named her. She still had goo on her and we wanted to see her all cleaned up. Unfortunately, it was early afternoon until a nurse was free to do so (remember all the births!). After the bath, we discussed her name. We pretty much had two finalists. We had discussed naming her Leila if she had dark hair or Alaina. We chose Alaina. Alaina is the Gaelic form of Helen. It also matches her brother since he has a Gaelic name. Alaina means “little rock” or “beautiful joy” both of which I think fits her. Her middle name had been discussed for a long time. I liked the name Autumn because she was a fall baby and also because Rob’s mom’s last name is Herbst which is German for Autumn. We also liked the name Annaleen—which we made up—it combines 5 strong women in her life. G’ma Anna on Rob’s side, Ann is my middle name, G’ma Arlene on Rob’s side, Rob’s mom Kathleen, and my mom Maureen.
Autumn won out—it just fit better and because there are no Herbsts to continue the family name it seemed appropriate. So that is the story of her name. Alaina Autumn Schnake.
A few quick words on recovery. It was much easier this time. I knew what to expect and it didn’t hurt as much (I think because all my nerves down there are probably dead from being sliced twice.) I stood up by the end of that day. By the next day I was walking and they pulled out all my tubes. It was sad to see Frankie go—but I was ready. I even convinced the docs to let me go home a day early. The only concern I have had is with the large gaping hole on my left side. Apparently the skin did not come together right so I literally have this large area of ugliness and scariness. The docs have said that it is okay, it will just take longer to heal as I will have to wait for new skin to form over it.
Lastly, I must write about Kylan. As all of this was hardest on him. Ky stayed with Nana and G’ma Jan at our house. Rob had to stay with me at least a few days until I could get up to tend the baby. Ky visited us several times. He was obviously very confused. It appeared to him that we had moved to the hospital to live with this baby and left him with Nana. How hard this had to have been on him!
On Thursday, he was worse than ever. He had several tantrums/meltdowns during his visit. We then decided it was best for Rob to go home that night and for Nana to leave that way Ky could have some normalcy back in his life. This did help. The next day he was in better spirits, but was giving me the cold shoulder on the visit. He still did not understand why I wasn’t home. We showed him my “owie” and explained to him that we were waiting for the dr. to say it was okay for me to come home. This is also the explanation we have given him for why I can’t pick him up—but yet we know he still does not completely understand. I carry his sister everywhere, yet I can’t pick him up. 5 more weeks until I can carry my little boy again—and you know I will be smothering him when that day comes.
As far as feelings towards his sister. He seems okay with her. He sometimes seems curious, other times pays no mind to her. I think we will have to wait and see.
For now though we have been blessed with 2 beautiful children. Thank you God for all you have given us! And thank you for your love and support.
As far as feelings towards his sister. He seems okay with her. He sometimes seems curious, other times pays no mind to her. I think we will have to wait and see.
For now though we have been blessed with 2 beautiful children. Thank you God for all you have given us! And thank you for your love and support.
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