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Everett's Birth Story

I suppose the subtitle to this should be, "Or how I gave birth to an almost 11 pound baby." Because it's a question I get (mostly indirectly) all. the. time. When my sister, who lives in Minnesota, was here for Christmas, she saw this firsthand while we were out shopping. A sweet lady stopped us and starting asking about Everett. Usually it goes something like this:

"How old is your baby?"

"2 months old."

"He's huge! How big was he when he was born?"

"10 lbs. 13 oz."

"Oh my gosh...and you had him...???"

I'm still getting used to the fact that strangers want to know how my baby came out of my body. Of course, my sister took this as a sure sign that she was, in fact, visiting "the south" - for northerners would probably not strike up a conversation inquiring about that many personal details.

This is not to say that I don't mind people asking - I enjoy conversations with strangers and don't find their questions overly intrusive. Usually they say something about how Everett will probably play football, and I quickly inform them that THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN because this mom will not sit in the stands for a sport she hates and watch her son repeatedly get tackled. He will play baseball instead. It's at that point people realize I'm not from here...

Anyway - on to Everett's birth story. If you were around for Adler's birth story, you'll remember that when the doctor told us at 36 weeks how big Adler was measuring, I kind of freaked out. But guess what? He came out and everything was OK. 

So this time around, I was ready for the news. The doctor didn't really even need to tell me this time around - some intuition-type thing in me had already determined that this was my childbearing fate. Sure enough, at our 20 and 36 week ultrasounds: "He's measuring big." 

After confirming what we already knew was true, we decided to not go past 40 weeks with Everett. Adler was born 3 days early, so we never had to make that decision. But because my recovery with Adler was very difficult (I will spare you the details here), I wanted to avoid some of the same complications. I'm SUPER thankful that my doctor was on board with what we wanted, but never pressured us into anything because Everett was measuring big. 

In order to avoid an induction, I got my membranes stripped at 38 weeks. I did the Miles Circuit (which proved to show me how ridiculously out of shape I was). And I walked up and down our hill in the backyard. But nothing happened. 

At 39 weeks, my doctor gave me instructions on what to do the day we "scheduled" our induction (you'll find out why I put that word in quotations in a minute...). We were to call the hospital at 5 am to see if they had a bed available. If not, we were to call back at 8 am, and they'd give us a time. My doctor said we'd "for sure" be in by noon. 

Well...we called at 5. No bed. We called at 8. No bed. They told us they'd call us. By noon, I was getting antsy, so I called again. No bed. At this point I explained to the triage nurse that though my stats said 39 weeks 6 days, I wasn't scheduling an induction just to schedule an induction...I had an actual medical reason! She was kind, but didn't care. Eric called back around 5. No bed. At this point I was all kinds of discouraged.

We finally got a call at 11pm asking us if we could be at the hospital at 1:30am. Not exactly ideal to skip a night of sleep before having a baby, but we had waited long we got packed and headed to the hospital in the middle of the night.

I was pleasantly surprised to find out that I was 4 cm dialated when I arrived. The work I had done was not in vain! They started me on pitocin, my contractions began. They turned the pitocin down, and my contractions continued growing in frequency and length.

With Adler, I was determined to at least attempt a natural childbirth. I lasted 12 hours (and only 2 cm) until I caved. And you know what? Adler's birth was (and is still) one of my favorite memories in my life. Natural childbirth was no longer a strong desire for me with Everett. I waited 4 hours before I got an epidural, and that was enough for me. The nurse had actually informed me that I could get an epidural upon arriving since I was already showing significant progress. It was tempting, but Eric talked me out of it. After all, once you get an epidural, labor is a little "boring" for awhile (according to him ;)).

The rest of my laboring story is rather anti-climactic. I progressed, my water broke, I progressed some more...and 12 hours after we arrived at the hospital, it was time to push. When my doctor came in, she said that she didn't think Everett was going to be as big as I thought. "I think we're looking at an 8 lb. baby." I didn't know if she was saying that just to calm my nerves, or if she really believed that. I didn't believe her, so it really didn't matter...but we were about to find out.

With both of my boys, I could feel my contractions during the pushing stage. Having an epidural didn't make me totally numb, and for that I am thankful. Everett came out in about 5 pushes - and unlike his brother, he made his way out slowly instead of kicking himself out in one big push. I heard Everett cry, but before I saw him, one of the nurses had a shocked look on her face.

"Oh my gosh. That's a 10 pound baby. At least."

I just laughed. Neither Eric nor I could really tell if he looked bigger in comparison to other babies. As soon as they put Everett on my chest, he just melted in to me. There's no better feeling in the world. 

Eventually, I let them take him to get his measurements. Sure enough - 10 lbs. 13 oz. and 21 3/4 in. long, born on his due date. 

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