So although I've been blogging for more than 2 years, I realized that I have never shared Aria's birth story! With all this new baby hullabaloo, it's brought up so many old memories that I want to make sure I document on in the baby book and on the blog!
Some of you may know that when I was pregnant with Aria, Dez and I decided to not find out the gender. It was a cute idea at first but it drove our parents totally crazy. We figured gender neutral items would do and when the baby arrived we would get things more geared toward the gender. At about the 20 week mark, I was absolutely positive we were having a boy. We threw out names like Malachi (Kai), Cruz, we even bought one comforter with sports gear on it, just in case.
We had planned to have a natural birth. I even checked out the natural birthing center at the hospital I was designated to. I read up about all the benefits of a natural birth for baby and mom. How hard could it be, right?
At 37 weeks, I had a regular check up on a Tuesday. I saw my OB, Dr. Winthrop in the morning and she excitedly shared with me that I was 2 cm dilated. I was terribly surprised to say the least remembering the fancy Doona carseat/stroller we had ordered from BuyBuy baby hadn't even arrived yet! She assured me that it could be days or weeks before I gave birth, so I went home and continued on with my day.
Calling me "active" while pregnant would be an understatement. I single-handedly set up the nursery when I was in nesting mode. I successfully put together the crib, the rocking chair, hung all the closet gear, hand-painted and framed a canvas, picked out every tiny piece of decor to be nailed into the wall, or sit nicely on the steel bolted shelves I power-drilled into the wall. I even changed out the electrical fixture because everything had to be perfect for our new babe.
In the evening following my appointment I was still moving like a champion. I was crushing piles of laundry and whipping up my daily craving-baked lemon chicken, while I waited for Dez to get home from work. He got home around an hour after I was feeling minor contractions. We ate and got comfortable on our bed watching tv until he started drifting off to sleep. Unfortunately, I was wide awake when the contractions gradually started to increase.
Soon, they were almost intolerable! I had the bright idea to take a warm bath. I filled the tub with warm water and epsom salt and slid into the tub. It felt amazing for the first 15 minutes and I got out because I didn't want to overheat. For a few minutes, the pain stopped, only to return with a vengeance. I ripped off my towel and sunk back into the tub for another 15 minutes. This time, when I got out, they only stopped for a few minutes.
I remember putting on a sleeveless flannel nightgown (it was September) and I laid in the bed next to Dez swatting at him every few minutes when the contractions started up again. He was dazed but reached out his hand to squeeze when the pain got too tough. Soon, I was sweating buckets and I forced him to wake up so I could call the nurse.
I could barely make it through the phone call without screeching in this poor woman's ear and she politely told me it was time to get my -ish and make our way to the hospital. We were stunned! No baby bag was packed. I was jamming stuff into my petite Vera Bradley duffle through the contractions which were now only a few minutes apart. I had to stop at times while packing sitting on all fours just trying to get through the pain of each one.
Slippers, check, nightgown, check, newborn outfit, check, eyeliner? Sure, throw that in there. I'm pretty positive it was the most ill-prepared bag in history. I coiled up the straps in my arms and my beloved snoodle pillow (curved pregnancy pillow) and Dez was ready to take us to the hospital. He raised his phone for a selfie and I almost punched the phone out of his hand. We got into my sedan He drove eagerly to the hospital which was only 10 minutes away. I screamed in the backseat of my Hyundai, laid across all the seats. I was pressing the door of the car with my soles so hard that my left foot kicked a hole through the speaker of the car. It was almost 3:00 am so luckily there was no traffic because nobody was on the road that early.
When we got to the hospital, it was after-hours so the normal entrance was locked. We felt defeated and desperately tried to find the entrance while I waddled around in pain with my pillow in hand. We had to enter through the emergency room of the building, and when I realized the room was absolutely full, I realized I looked absolutely ridiculous. I had a Ludacris fro, I was sweating all over my face. I'm trying to block everyone's view of this tragedy with my gigantic pillow and the woman at the front desk was entirely too calm.
"What are you here for?" She asked us. I'm 37 weeks pregnant and I'm about to have a baby." I responded with a hand on my belly and a grimace. She called the Ob unit and told me to sit in a wheelchair while we waited for assistance. Soon, my name was called and Dez wheeled me to the triage room where the nurse asked me to pee in a cup for her. "A WHAT?" I thought. I was absolutely positive I was going to have our baby on the floor of the bathroom.
"You're 10 centimeters dilated," she informed me as I laid on the hospital bed when she finally came back into the room and checked on me. Even though we had planned to have a natural birth, I was ready to throw all of that out the window for pain relief. I asked for an epidural and she uttered, "It is too late for that, you're about to have this baby, now." They wheeled me over to the delivery room and I gripped the hospital bed darting my eyes from left to right as I watched the nurses scramble to prepare for delivery.
Thank GOD, my normal Obstetrician Dr. Winthrop was on call and she walked into the room and greeted me with a smile. "Didn't I just see you today?" She laughed. Once she was dressed and ready she checked the monitors and told me I needed to get ready to push. Dez was standing to the right of the bed doing his best to walk me through their instructions and stay calm. Pushing wasn't the hardest part, the contractions were, but by now, I was exhausted and I felt like she would never make her way through; even though I pushed as hard as I could.
With one last gust of energy, I was able to bring her into the world. She cried and her daddy gladly cut her umbilical cord to assist them and they whisked her away to be cleaned. At 3:42 a.m on a Wednesday, they informed us "It's a girl!" And we looked at each other in total shock. We were grateful for whatever gender our baby was and were just glad she was healthy and safely in our arms.
Hours later, we cradled her in our arms checking her face and all her tiny toes. "What should we name her?" I asked Dez. Aria? I asked. Aria. He agreed. Aria Rose. Aria Rose clocked in at 6 lbs. and 6 oz.
Baby was perfect, and we all left the hospital together a day later after staying only that first night in the hospital.
Fun fact: Mommy popped a blood vessel in her eye which was visible in all our initial pictures together.
Did any of you have to switch up your whole birthing plan? What did or didn't work for you all? Sound off below!
Follow @youngdumbmama new post alerts.