Annabel Violet
My sweet little daughter is here! And currently napping hard in her swing, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to start writing her birth story for my keepsake.
But first, meet Annabel Violet, born Sunday, February 26 at 4:11am, weighing in at a whopping 8lbs 15oz and measuring 21in long. Isn't she lovely?
Backing up...on Saturday, February 25, I woke feeling like this surely had to be the day. I'm not sure if it was intuition that we were on the cusp of something or just sheer desire to no longer be pregnant. But either way, I was gearing up for the day while trying to not get ahead of myself in case nothing happened. Story of a pregnant lady at 39 weeks.
I knew I wanted to get out of the house and move, so we went to the mall for a couple brief errands and then Costco. Surely Costco of all places would put me into labor. I started feeling a few cramps, but that's it. I mostly just wanted to get the heck out of there. I should say this isn't unusual in my non-pregnant state. I hurried Jon along, who thoroughly enjoys browsing just about every aisle, and home we went. After getting Carter fed and down for a nap, I laid on the couch and felt no signs of labor. I won't deny I was pretty bummed. But I knew she was on her on timetable and I just needed to be patient.
That evening we had dinner plans with Jon's parents. It wasn't until we were back home and Carter was in bed that I started noticing some pretty regular contractions. But they weren't painful at all so I figured they were Braxton Hicks. Nonetheless, I told Jon I thought something might be happening and that he should surely get stuff ready just in case. He remained on the couch watching TV which irritated me to no end. I hopped in the shower around 10pm just in case, but by the time I was done and back on the couch, all contractions stopped. Another bummer.
We went to bed and it wasn't until 2:30am that I woke up to use the bathroom and felt my first "this is definitely a real contraction" contraction. I started timing them and woke Jon. I don't know that he truly believed it was time until I ended up bent over moaning through the 3rd one. They were about 5-6 minutes apart, so knowing how quickly Carter was born (~3.5 hours total) we called my mother-in-law and asked her to come over. She arrived in about 30 minutes, around 3:30am, and we were all packed up and ready to go. We snapped a quick "last bump" photo at 3:35am, I had one more contraction in the kitchen, and off we went. I remember feeling the same as we had with Carter, so I figured we had another hour or two before meeting her. LOL...
The moment I sat down in the car, things got intense. Sitting was by far the worst position for me to be in, but with 2 car seats there was no space for me to get on all fours, as I apparently prefer to do in labor. Fortunately there was no traffic at that hour, and Jon sped along nicely, but MAN. It was brutal. Every turn, every bump... At one point I apparently told Jon we should just turn back, though I do not remember this one bit. I was out of my mind, clearly.
We arrived at the hospital and parked at 3:58am (thanks to parking ticket time stamp) and walked into the hospital. I made it to the lobby before the next contraction and by then agreed to get into a wheelchair. The last thing I wanted to do was sit but I knew I could get there faster that way. At the front desk they asked me to initial, sign, and date some paperwork which I found entirely annoying. It was at that moment that I realized my body was starting to push. I told the front desk lady and she said she'd go find the nurse. (We had called ahead, mind you, but no one was exactly waiting for us). When no nurse came out, this lady led us back to triage herself.
They asked me to get on the bed so they could check me and I shook my head. I told them yet again that I was pushing and couldn't stop, so they moved into high speed mode, radioed some people and essentially tossed me on the bed to wheel me to the next delivery room. From there, which was at 4:05am I am told, I pushed on the triage bed for a few minutes until finally there was a decent gap between contractions and I could maneuver onto the delivery bed.
Oh, the pushing. Glad I had sort of forgotten what that pain really is like.
The same "sort of mean" doctor that delivered Carter was there, but I was out of my mind in pain that I didn't care or really notice. Until, as I was pushing the final few pushes and screaming, she yelled at me to stop screaming. I looked at her and saw her wide, angry eyes staring at me over her face mask and was so in shock that I shut up immediately. She then told me to breathe, so I'm sure there was intention in her request to help me. But still. I scream. I did so with Carter's delivery. It's how I cope with the pain.What's wrong with that?
By 4:11am, I made a final push and out came Annabel. A whole 6 minutes in the delivery room.
I fully recognize how incredibly blessed I am to have had such a speedy and safe delivery. I truly do. I am finding myself extra cautious in how I tell this story to people, as I don't want to appear bragging or ungrateful when so many women labor miserably for hours and hours. But, this is my story after all. The nurses that were present seemed very surprised at how precipitous this was, and commented that it was good we didn't wait for another 1-2 contractions at home. No kidding.
The moment I laid eyes on her, my heart soared. My sweet daughter. (I did have someone look to make sure she was "still a girl" - ha). Jon immediately piped in that he wanted to cut the cord, so he did while the nurses helped me out of the rest of my clothes. I was still mostly clothed!
So yeah. 11 minutes. My dear friend Kate was not in town to be there, but I'm not sure she would have made it in on time even if she had been around.
We were shocked at her size. Carter was 7lbs 5oz, so she was nearly 2lbs bigger. I guess the ultrasound was accurate in pinning her to the 90th percentile! Not sure what was different this time around to make her so big...I guess I wasn't quite as careful with my diet, but I gained less so who knows. She has long fingers and toes, which take after my dad's family, and I suspect she will be a tall girl.
Afterwards, I had some bleeding that wouldn't stop. They hooked me up to pitocin to help my uterus contract faster. Because they had it up to full flow, it caused my body to shiver violently. So Jon enjoyed some snuggles with Annabel while I shook under several hot blankets. I was glad they had that bonding moment. When the bleeding still didn't stop, the mean doctor came back in and reached up in there with I'm pretty sure her entire hand to clear out any remaining clots. Holy smokes. That was perhaps worse than delivery. But, she was successful, and the bleeding slowed/stopped as a result. Mean doctor even complimented me on how well I did with the delivery. I wonder if she realized her bedside manner hadn't been very nice. Our nurse had already agreed with us that her reaction at the time was "unpopular" to put it nicely and that I had every right to react how my body needed to.
Apparently everyone in the metro had babies that weekend so we didn't have a postpartum room until several hours later. Which was fine, since I was still dealing with bleeding and getting warm. And trying to wrap my head around what just happened.
We called our parents to tell them the news, but waited to tell them her name until they arrived. Mean, maybe. But we thought it would be so nice to introduce her properly in person, and I think they all liked that (once they weren't waiting patiently to come visit). I loved seeing all the grandparents' face when they laid eyes on her.
Her first name has no story, other than it was the girl name I came across when pregnant with Carter and fell in love with. Jon originally didn't care for it all that much, but it grew on him, and he never came up with anything better. We went back and forth about spelling. Using 'belle' felt way too formal and southern for us, and using one 'n' as in Anabel we thought people would call her Ana (On-a) whereas if we do shorten her name we want it to be pronounced Anna. Jon claims he doesn't want to shorten it at all, but I imagine it will happen and have no problem calling her Anna.
Her middle name comes from Jon's grandma Violet, who passed away a year ago. We feel like she has been a little guardian angel to our sweet girl from the moment she was conceived, so sharing a name is all the more special. Had she held out for another 11 days they would have shared a birthday...but I sure am glad she didn't put me through that additional wait.
Carter arrived by late morning with my in-laws, and he was very shy about coming to me. I think it was the bed and IV and new human in my arms. He eventually warmed up to everything and sat with me, requested to hold her (for 1.5 seconds), and then spent the rest of his visit running around the room pushing buttons, eating cheetos off the floor (that were NOT from us), and playing hide and seek. Surpassing any concern we may have had, as he often does, about him feeling jealous about her arrival.
And that is the story of how Annabel arrived. We are all adjusting to our new normal, which is another story for another day.
Seriously. These two are all mine? What did I do to be so lucky?
But first, meet Annabel Violet, born Sunday, February 26 at 4:11am, weighing in at a whopping 8lbs 15oz and measuring 21in long. Isn't she lovely?
Backing up...on Saturday, February 25, I woke feeling like this surely had to be the day. I'm not sure if it was intuition that we were on the cusp of something or just sheer desire to no longer be pregnant. But either way, I was gearing up for the day while trying to not get ahead of myself in case nothing happened. Story of a pregnant lady at 39 weeks.
I knew I wanted to get out of the house and move, so we went to the mall for a couple brief errands and then Costco. Surely Costco of all places would put me into labor. I started feeling a few cramps, but that's it. I mostly just wanted to get the heck out of there. I should say this isn't unusual in my non-pregnant state. I hurried Jon along, who thoroughly enjoys browsing just about every aisle, and home we went. After getting Carter fed and down for a nap, I laid on the couch and felt no signs of labor. I won't deny I was pretty bummed. But I knew she was on her on timetable and I just needed to be patient.
That evening we had dinner plans with Jon's parents. It wasn't until we were back home and Carter was in bed that I started noticing some pretty regular contractions. But they weren't painful at all so I figured they were Braxton Hicks. Nonetheless, I told Jon I thought something might be happening and that he should surely get stuff ready just in case. He remained on the couch watching TV which irritated me to no end. I hopped in the shower around 10pm just in case, but by the time I was done and back on the couch, all contractions stopped. Another bummer.
We went to bed and it wasn't until 2:30am that I woke up to use the bathroom and felt my first "this is definitely a real contraction" contraction. I started timing them and woke Jon. I don't know that he truly believed it was time until I ended up bent over moaning through the 3rd one. They were about 5-6 minutes apart, so knowing how quickly Carter was born (~3.5 hours total) we called my mother-in-law and asked her to come over. She arrived in about 30 minutes, around 3:30am, and we were all packed up and ready to go. We snapped a quick "last bump" photo at 3:35am, I had one more contraction in the kitchen, and off we went. I remember feeling the same as we had with Carter, so I figured we had another hour or two before meeting her. LOL...
The moment I sat down in the car, things got intense. Sitting was by far the worst position for me to be in, but with 2 car seats there was no space for me to get on all fours, as I apparently prefer to do in labor. Fortunately there was no traffic at that hour, and Jon sped along nicely, but MAN. It was brutal. Every turn, every bump... At one point I apparently told Jon we should just turn back, though I do not remember this one bit. I was out of my mind, clearly.
We arrived at the hospital and parked at 3:58am (thanks to parking ticket time stamp) and walked into the hospital. I made it to the lobby before the next contraction and by then agreed to get into a wheelchair. The last thing I wanted to do was sit but I knew I could get there faster that way. At the front desk they asked me to initial, sign, and date some paperwork which I found entirely annoying. It was at that moment that I realized my body was starting to push. I told the front desk lady and she said she'd go find the nurse. (We had called ahead, mind you, but no one was exactly waiting for us). When no nurse came out, this lady led us back to triage herself.
They asked me to get on the bed so they could check me and I shook my head. I told them yet again that I was pushing and couldn't stop, so they moved into high speed mode, radioed some people and essentially tossed me on the bed to wheel me to the next delivery room. From there, which was at 4:05am I am told, I pushed on the triage bed for a few minutes until finally there was a decent gap between contractions and I could maneuver onto the delivery bed.
Oh, the pushing. Glad I had sort of forgotten what that pain really is like.
The same "sort of mean" doctor that delivered Carter was there, but I was out of my mind in pain that I didn't care or really notice. Until, as I was pushing the final few pushes and screaming, she yelled at me to stop screaming. I looked at her and saw her wide, angry eyes staring at me over her face mask and was so in shock that I shut up immediately. She then told me to breathe, so I'm sure there was intention in her request to help me. But still. I scream. I did so with Carter's delivery. It's how I cope with the pain.What's wrong with that?
By 4:11am, I made a final push and out came Annabel. A whole 6 minutes in the delivery room.
I fully recognize how incredibly blessed I am to have had such a speedy and safe delivery. I truly do. I am finding myself extra cautious in how I tell this story to people, as I don't want to appear bragging or ungrateful when so many women labor miserably for hours and hours. But, this is my story after all. The nurses that were present seemed very surprised at how precipitous this was, and commented that it was good we didn't wait for another 1-2 contractions at home. No kidding.
The moment I laid eyes on her, my heart soared. My sweet daughter. (I did have someone look to make sure she was "still a girl" - ha). Jon immediately piped in that he wanted to cut the cord, so he did while the nurses helped me out of the rest of my clothes. I was still mostly clothed!
So yeah. 11 minutes. My dear friend Kate was not in town to be there, but I'm not sure she would have made it in on time even if she had been around.
We were shocked at her size. Carter was 7lbs 5oz, so she was nearly 2lbs bigger. I guess the ultrasound was accurate in pinning her to the 90th percentile! Not sure what was different this time around to make her so big...I guess I wasn't quite as careful with my diet, but I gained less so who knows. She has long fingers and toes, which take after my dad's family, and I suspect she will be a tall girl.
Afterwards, I had some bleeding that wouldn't stop. They hooked me up to pitocin to help my uterus contract faster. Because they had it up to full flow, it caused my body to shiver violently. So Jon enjoyed some snuggles with Annabel while I shook under several hot blankets. I was glad they had that bonding moment. When the bleeding still didn't stop, the mean doctor came back in and reached up in there with I'm pretty sure her entire hand to clear out any remaining clots. Holy smokes. That was perhaps worse than delivery. But, she was successful, and the bleeding slowed/stopped as a result. Mean doctor even complimented me on how well I did with the delivery. I wonder if she realized her bedside manner hadn't been very nice. Our nurse had already agreed with us that her reaction at the time was "unpopular" to put it nicely and that I had every right to react how my body needed to.
Apparently everyone in the metro had babies that weekend so we didn't have a postpartum room until several hours later. Which was fine, since I was still dealing with bleeding and getting warm. And trying to wrap my head around what just happened.
We called our parents to tell them the news, but waited to tell them her name until they arrived. Mean, maybe. But we thought it would be so nice to introduce her properly in person, and I think they all liked that (once they weren't waiting patiently to come visit). I loved seeing all the grandparents' face when they laid eyes on her.
Her first name has no story, other than it was the girl name I came across when pregnant with Carter and fell in love with. Jon originally didn't care for it all that much, but it grew on him, and he never came up with anything better. We went back and forth about spelling. Using 'belle' felt way too formal and southern for us, and using one 'n' as in Anabel we thought people would call her Ana (On-a) whereas if we do shorten her name we want it to be pronounced Anna. Jon claims he doesn't want to shorten it at all, but I imagine it will happen and have no problem calling her Anna.
Her middle name comes from Jon's grandma Violet, who passed away a year ago. We feel like she has been a little guardian angel to our sweet girl from the moment she was conceived, so sharing a name is all the more special. Had she held out for another 11 days they would have shared a birthday...but I sure am glad she didn't put me through that additional wait.
Carter arrived by late morning with my in-laws, and he was very shy about coming to me. I think it was the bed and IV and new human in my arms. He eventually warmed up to everything and sat with me, requested to hold her (for 1.5 seconds), and then spent the rest of his visit running around the room pushing buttons, eating cheetos off the floor (that were NOT from us), and playing hide and seek. Surpassing any concern we may have had, as he often does, about him feeling jealous about her arrival.
Seeing him hold Annabel was one of the most precious moments of my life - he smiled and nuzzled in close and said, "Hi baby!" in his chirpy little voice. Gah. Then back to running around.
And that is the story of how Annabel arrived. We are all adjusting to our new normal, which is another story for another day.
Seriously. These two are all mine? What did I do to be so lucky?
Loved reading this!! That last photo is just so great with Carter glancing at you. I love it!!! How come I never heard about this mean doctor? That sounds terrible but glad you didn't let it phase you too much. Can't wait to meet Annabel!
ReplyDeleteGah! I'm so glad you take the time to document in such detail. (I'm impressed!) I loved reading every word. Holy cow- how quick! Better watch out if you have a third! Can't wait to meet her!!
ReplyDelete