Birth Story- Big Baby- Vaginal Birth!
I am so grateful to all of our mamas who share their stories. This story is about a big baby, born vaginally after a little jumpstart induction. I love to see women happy with their birth experience, no matter how their journey goes. Congrats mama!
A few days before my due date and scheduled induction I had an ultrasound that had estimated Joseph to weigh 9 pounds 11 ounces give or take a pound. My first thought was of course that I was very much hoping for the “take a pound” as opposed to the “give” part of the technicians comment. I was thoroughly planning for a delivery with no epidural or other pain relief but that number scared me. A lot. I first called a dear friend of mine who I knew delivered a 10 pound baby with no epidural AND she was induced so I knew I needed a pep talk. She assured me that I could do it and told me about a phrase that her husband repeated to her that helped. It was, “You can do anything for a minute.” I went home and prayed that I would go into labor on my own. I didn’t.
My labor was really picking up and I was starting to zone out during my contractions. I was watching Judge Judy (4 o’clock or so) or rather staring at the screen between contractions. There was a case between two lesbians and the one woman’s last name was Massengill. That was the last time I recall laughing until after Joseph was born.
The contractions were getting tougher and tougher to breathe through. I had started to really need to focus, squeeze Doug’s hand, and the sweating started. They checked me and I was only at 4 cm. I was still determined to deliver this baby with no pain relief and so Doug started
reminding me, with every contraction, “You can do anything for a minute.” That reminder seemed to be coming faster and faster with less time to recover. It was now about 6 o’clock and I was feeling as if I couldn’t go much longer. The tears started coming and the pleading with 
Doug to remind me that I was going to do this pain free this time but I would certainly get the epidural next time. So, the nurse checked me again and told me I was dilated to 7 cm. That is when the real tears started. Only 7!? I felt as if I had been in labor for days in that atrocious bed. I turned to Doug and said, “I need something. Something IV. Just so I can rest. I am too tired to do this.” He asked me several times if I was SURE that I wanted drugs. I said I was so very sure, so he told the nurse when she came back in the room. She looked at me with a face I will never forget. “Aw, honey. We can’t give you anything IV after you are 5 cm.” I was so devastated thinking that I was just going to lose my mind when the next contraction started. A few contractions later the nurse asked me if I was feeling any pressure. I thought about it for a second and realized that I was feeling some pressure. It was only a few contractions later that I started feeling an uncontrollable urge to push. I was sitting up on my left hip and telling the nurse, “Oh! I am pushing!?”
She quickly tells me not to push and she is going to check me. She checks me and tells me not to push because I have a bit of cervix left and it could damage my cervix if I push. At that moment, my body didn’t give two craps about my cervix because despite every effort to not push, I was pushing. The nurse made a call and this is when the controlled chaos began. I remember her saying to whoever was on the other end of the phone, “I have got a woman here who is really pushy.” My first thought was, “I am trying to be nice. I don’t want to be that pushy lady that doesn‘t listen.” Then I realized what she meant by pushy. The nurse had her hand between my legs and was holding the baby’s head. That was terribly uncomfortable. I was still on my hip looking over my shoulder at the faces coming in the room. They all looked puzzled and nervous. I heard one person ask another, “Where is the doctor?” and the other answered, “She said she would be here in fifteen minutes 
and that was fifteen minutes ago.” At this point I didn’t care who caught this baby, I was pushing him out. Now. I was still announcing to the room that I was pushing and everyone in the room would answer back, “Don’t push! Don’t push!” to which I would answer with an emphatic, “IIIIIIIII’M PUSHING!” I was looking over my shoulder periodically to look for my doctor and was thrilled when I saw her frantically scrubbing her hands at the sink. They put the stirrups up and I put one leg up, then the other. I saw the doctor slide into position and I went ahead and pushed with everything I had. This time I heard my doctor’s voice chiming in with everyone else, “Don’t push!” Then I swear I hear the doctor exhale in defeat when she said, “Okay 
just one little push.” Then, the next thing I knew the weight of Joseph’s body was resting on my stomach. I couldn’t believe it. There he was. All 10 pounds 3 ounces of him. The instant pain relief I felt coupled with the reality that I had just delivered my second son was euphoric.
My nurse awarded Doug the “Best Coach Ever” award. He was very proud of that award but I was prouder that he stayed right by my side and helped me through what was so challenging, yet so rewarding.
Our beautiful baby boy, Joseph William was born on July 15th at 7:09 pm.
Look Out! Big Baby Coming Through!!
A few days before my due date and scheduled induction I had an ultrasound that had estimated Joseph to weigh 9 pounds 11 ounces give or take a pound. My first thought was of course that I was very much hoping for the “take a pound” as opposed to the “give” part of the technicians comment. I was thoroughly planning for a delivery with no epidural or other pain relief but that number scared me. A lot. I first called a dear friend of mine who I knew delivered a 10 pound baby with no epidural AND she was induced so I knew I needed a pep talk. She assured me that I could do it and told me about a phrase that her husband repeated to her that helped. It was, “You can do anything for a minute.” I went home and prayed that I would go into labor on my own. I didn’t.
A few days later, on Thursday July 15th, 2010, we went to the hospital at 7:30 am. I got the IV , Pitocin started and the monitors put on and since I was really hoping to not be strapped to a bunch of things, I asked the nurse how long I would have to be monitored. She looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears. I explained to her that I wanted to be able to stand up and move around. She side stepped the question by telling me that she would ask my doctor. 
A few hours passed and my husband and I just chatted a bit, watched some TV and kept everyone posted about my status, or lack thereof, via phone calls and text messages. My friend, Michael, came to take pictures in the early afternoon although my contractions were still easy to tolerate. I had been checked a couple of times and I was only dilated to 2 cm. After my contractions started to pick up to the point I was grimacing and asking my husband to stand by me so I could hold his hand, I was checked again. “A good 2 ½!” he said. I couldn’t believe that was it. I thought for sure I would have had more progress than that. It was then that I asked the resident about getting out of the bed and moving around seeing as how the hospital bed couldn’t possibly be any more uncomfortable. He gave me a very sympathetic look and explained that it was not looked highly upon by the hospital to move around during labor. He even explained how it is actually better for getting labor to progress by using gravity (blah blah blah - I knew this… hence me wanting to move!) but they still don’t do it. So when my OB stopped in an hour or so later she told me she was going to break my water and put in the internal monitors. I thought for sure that would mean a bit more freedom in the room. She broke my water and inserted the internal fetal monitor and left telling be she would be back later to check on me. So, while the contractions 
were starting to really pick up I still wanted to move. I asked the nurse again about moving around and she told me that I was to not move at all since the baby’s head wasn’t engaged and if I moved the cord could come down first. So Greatttttttt! Stranded in the awful bed for the rest of the day.
A few hours passed and my husband and I just chatted a bit, watched some TV and kept everyone posted about my status, or lack thereof, via phone calls and text messages. My friend, Michael, came to take pictures in the early afternoon although my contractions were still easy to tolerate. I had been checked a couple of times and I was only dilated to 2 cm. After my contractions started to pick up to the point I was grimacing and asking my husband to stand by me so I could hold his hand, I was checked again. “A good 2 ½!” he said. I couldn’t believe that was it. I thought for sure I would have had more progress than that. It was then that I asked the resident about getting out of the bed and moving around seeing as how the hospital bed couldn’t possibly be any more uncomfortable. He gave me a very sympathetic look and explained that it was not looked highly upon by the hospital to move around during labor. He even explained how it is actually better for getting labor to progress by using gravity (blah blah blah - I knew this… hence me wanting to move!) but they still don’t do it. So when my OB stopped in an hour or so later she told me she was going to break my water and put in the internal monitors. I thought for sure that would mean a bit more freedom in the room. She broke my water and inserted the internal fetal monitor and left telling be she would be back later to check on me. So, while the contractions were starting to really pick up I still wanted to move. I asked the nurse again about moving around and she told me that I was to not move at all since the baby’s head wasn’t engaged and if I moved the cord could come down first. So Greatttttttt! Stranded in the awful bed for the rest of the day.
My labor was really picking up and I was starting to zone out during my contractions. I was watching Judge Judy (4 o’clock or so) or rather staring at the screen between contractions. There was a case between two lesbians and the one woman’s last name was Massengill. That was the last time I recall laughing until after Joseph was born.
The contractions were getting tougher and tougher to breathe through. I had started to really need to focus, squeeze Doug’s hand, and the sweating started. They checked me and I was only at 4 cm. I was still determined to deliver this baby with no pain relief and so Doug started
reminding me, with every contraction, “You can do anything for a minute.” That reminder seemed to be coming faster and faster with less time to recover. It was now about 6 o’clock and I was feeling as if I couldn’t go much longer. The tears started coming and the pleading with Doug to remind me that I was going to do this pain free this time but I would certainly get the epidural next time. So, the nurse checked me again and told me I was dilated to 7 cm. That is when the real tears started. Only 7!? I felt as if I had been in labor for days in that atrocious bed. I turned to Doug and said, “I need something. Something IV. Just so I can rest. I am too tired to do this.” He asked me several times if I was SURE that I wanted drugs. I said I was so very sure, so he told the nurse when she came back in the room. She looked at me with a face I will never forget. “Aw, honey. We can’t give you anything IV after you are 5 cm.” I was so devastated thinking that I was just going to lose my mind when the next contraction started. A few contractions later the nurse asked me if I was feeling any pressure. I thought about it for a second and realized that I was feeling some pressure. It was only a few contractions later that I started feeling an uncontrollable urge to push. I was sitting up on my left hip and telling the nurse, “Oh! I am pushing!?”
She quickly tells me not to push and she is going to check me. She checks me and tells me not to push because I have a bit of cervix left and it could damage my cervix if I push. At that moment, my body didn’t give two craps about my cervix because despite every effort to not push, I was pushing. The nurse made a call and this is when the controlled chaos began. I remember her saying to whoever was on the other end of the phone, “I have got a woman here who is really pushy.” My first thought was, “I am trying to be nice. I don’t want to be that pushy lady that doesn‘t listen.” Then I realized what she meant by pushy. The nurse had her hand between my legs and was holding the baby’s head. That was terribly uncomfortable. I was still on my hip looking over my shoulder at the faces coming in the room. They all looked puzzled and nervous. I heard one person ask another, “Where is the doctor?” and the other answered, “She said she would be here in fifteen minutes and that was fifteen minutes ago.” At this point I didn’t care who caught this baby, I was pushing him out. Now. I was still announcing to the room that I was pushing and everyone in the room would answer back, “Don’t push! Don’t push!” to which I would answer with an emphatic, “IIIIIIIII’M PUSHING!” I was looking over my shoulder periodically to look for my doctor and was thrilled when I saw her frantically scrubbing her hands at the sink. They put the stirrups up and I put one leg up, then the other. I saw the doctor slide into position and I went ahead and pushed with everything I had. This time I heard my doctor’s voice chiming in with everyone else, “Don’t push!” Then I swear I hear the doctor exhale in defeat when she said, “Okay just one little push.” Then, the next thing I knew the weight of Joseph’s body was resting on my stomach. I couldn’t believe it. There he was. All 10 pounds 3 ounces of him. The instant pain relief I felt coupled with the reality that I had just delivered my second son was euphoric.
My nurse awarded Doug the “Best Coach Ever” award. He was very proud of that award but I was prouder that he stayed right by my side and helped me through what was so challenging, yet so rewarding.
Our beautiful baby boy, Joseph William was born on July 15th at 7:09 pm.
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