the tale of Phoebe's birth {part final}

... find part one right here

Okay. Where were we? Ready to push!!

Yee Haw.

The room was readied, the baby warmer turned on, and we all geared up to meet the baby. I was so happy because the nurse that helped deliver Sebastian came in to help and I really liked her and it was nice to have a familiar face (other than, you know, Simon) in the room.

Commence pushing.

And pushing.

And pushing some mo.

My doctor said she thought the baby was turned funny but we kept pushing.

And pushing.

And pushing.

And then my doc said she was afraid this baby was OP (occiput posterior - face UP) just like Theo was. And my heart sank. I had been able to push Theo out but my water had broken at 37 weeks with him and he had been pretty small (relatively! Not crazy tiny) and still it had been a marathon of really, really hard work. I knew this baby was bigger and I got a little panicky but I kept pushing.

And pushing.

My doc said the baby had no hair.

Oh, a disappointment of a child already.

Kidding! Lighten up!

And we kept! on! pushing!!!

An hour passed and I was really tired and asked if the baby was moving down at all? Could I do anything differently? Was I a miserable failure at life? And I couldn't stop apologizing because I felt terrible my doctor had come in at 1am to a seemingly simple delivery and had found herself in the middle of a really boring session of pushing.

But we persevered.

And kept on pushing.

They put these little handles on the edge of the bed for me to hold onto to get a little better leverage (my pre-baby self would be freaking at this, "HANDLES?! What?! I can't picture this at all ...") and it seemed to help a bit. The nurse started some pitocin to try and make the contractions a little stronger but still ... the baby was just realllllly stuck with his/her little head sunny side up. I started to close my eyes and lay my head back on the pillow between contractions because I felt awkward after 99999 million pushes just staring at everyone ... doo da doo. I'm sure I looked super dramatic especially when I started asking Simon for some ice chips. Pathetic.

At this point I was starting to think that perhaps I was going to be headed for a c-section. I really didn't want to go down that route but if that's what it took? FINE. I wasn't going to be the patient throwing a big sulky fit about the best thing for the bebe. No one mentioned anything about having to do so and the baby's heart rate was perfectly fine the entire time. My doctor mentioned the possibility of trying the vacuum. I was totally game. I looked at Simon who was nodding emphatically about that option. We pushed for a bit longer and I kept apologizing and my sweet nurse assured me that some people would've given up by now (lies! but ... I ate it UP ... I was a champion - albeit ineffective - pusher). I asked if maybe we could try the vacuum? Simon was still nodding - yes! Let's do it.

I didn't know this but there's a big vacuum that you wheel into the room - heavy duty style. And then there is a little vacuum called a Kiwi and so that's what we used. Or my doctor used ... I didn't touch it.

She popped it on the baby's head and after one push ... out came Phoebe's head! One more push and out she slid completely at 3:37 in the am after two full hours of futile pushing.

God bless the Kiwi. God bless it real good.

During the Ironwoman of pushing I told Simon 99 times that it was DEFINITELY a boy because that was logical. Theo had been stuck and so surely it was another stubborn little boy. SURELY.

And so when we all saw that Phoebe was a Phoebe and not a little man baby .. I burst into tears. I was a big fat emotional casserole of shocked, happy, relieved, happy, and so very grateful. With each baby I get more emotional at the birth because I realize that the baby will soon grow into a little person with an adorable and frustrating and hilarious personality.

She was screaming, exactly like Julia (and a zillion other newborns) had been when she was born. They laid her on my chest and she immediately stopped crying, very much unlike Julia who had screamed for an eternity.

They asked what her name was and we both said, "Phoebe Anika" as I tried to get over my surprise that we had another little lady.

I didn't need any repairs but I guess that makes sense since Phoebe didn't exactly come flying out at the speed of anything other than a three-legged tortoise. I don't know. I don't specialize in lady part tears and repairs.

Simon held her for a bit before they took her over and weighed her and got her cleaned up.

We let our families know that she was here and healthy and fine. I can only imagine the cow my poor mom was having after she heard I was getting ready to push at 1am and then ... SILENCE for over two hours.

She latched on just fine and ate for a little bit while the room was cleaned up. Two nurses eventually came in to bathe her and she screamed bloody murder through the entire thing while I watched Simon straight up pass out in his chair. Polar opposite sleeping habits attract, I suppose. I don't know if I slept a consective hour during my entire hospital stay ... I was too busy enjoying all of the amenities and the silence.

I already told you about the kids meeting Phoebe. I still can't watch the video without crying because I'm a softie.

During my resort stay, every time a nurse or doctor would come in to look at Phoebe they would take off her little hat and couldn't help but comment on the bruise on her head ..

(the best photo I have of the damage, sorry)

And I would laugh because ...

Theo won that war.

AND SO ... that is the birth story of our sweet little Phoebe Anika. After a nice long nap I would gladly do it a thousand times more.

She's worth it. They always are.

Simon's mom's name is Ann and my mom's name is Bettina and so Simon says we have to have another girl and name her Bettinika to make things fair. 

Sounds good to me. 

And if you're in the mood to read more more more birth stories there are close to 300 of them right on over HERE. Enjoy!