Baby girl is sleeping peacefully by my side as I make her newborn appointments, get her situated with insurance, wash her first “big” load of laundry, and catch up on household bills and emails. It’s amazing how life feels like it stops but it doesn’t really. I want to take a moment to share her birth story while it’s still so fresh in my mind.
If you’ve been following me the last year or so, you’ll know that I have been patiently expecting my second child. And yes, it has been nearly a year. With my son, I was able to workout everyday, maintain a full-time job, and “nest.”
While preggo with my son, I learned anything and everything about L&D. I took a class at the hospital and became extremely educated on all the various interventions, birthing techniques, and together with my husband, crafted the “perfect” birth plan. It was a pretty easy pregnancy… until I nearly reached the 42 week mark (short by 2 days).
This pregnancy compared to my first was uncomfortable, given her positioning in my belly. Working out was a challenge past four months and I reached a point where I decided to simply enjoy this pregnancy instead of putting so much pressure on myself to workout, eat “clean” and conform to all the societal pressures put on pregnant women. There are so many!
So I did my beauty thing, blogged all about my StitchFit Maternity boxes, and had fun with my growing bump!
I experienced 3 weeks of early labor pains – and by early labor pains, I mean doctor visits that ended with, “you could go into labor any day now.” There were two emergency L&D runs because of decreased fetal movement and my fear that my water broke. Needless to say, I couldn’t wait when it was actually time to go to the hospital!
Like I mentioned before, we educated ourselves on all our options, all the interventions, researched emergency procedures… man what a blessing to have all this information available to us.
We chose to have her at the hospital instead of at home simply because we both felt comfortable that our doctor knew our birth plan and would respect it. We also trusted the doctor and hospital staff to make necessary emergency interventions, if needed. Having the peace of mind of modern medical technology at our fingertips sealed the deal for us.
If you thought by reading this post you’d get the nitty gritty details of how long my labor and delivery went, how long I pushed, whether she was delivered vaginally or via c-section, whether or not I was medicated or not, you thought wrong. After all, why does it matter? I brought a healthy life into this world… my body grew a little life! Wowza!
Sure, if a fellow pregnant woman or friend asked, I’m happy to share those intimate details of my birth story with her. But conversations of this nature are in my opinion, reserved for in-person coffee or phone dates. They share the details of how I brought life into this world. Which at the end of the day, doesn’t really matter. It’s just another societal pressure placed on women to have a baby a certain way! I’m so tired of seeing how the delivery story turns into the birth story and not the little life and momma’s recovery!
My body carried life into this world, which is a miracle and blessing in and of itself. I know I am blessed to carry a baby, let alone to term. I never forget that. Her birth and her health are my badge of honor. Not the nitty gritty details of my labor – because do those really matter?
…the same holds true for families who decide to adopt and finally get to bring their baby/kiddo home.
…or the same holds true for families who need surrogates to bring their babies into this world.
…or the same holds true for families who sought fertility assistance to bring their babies into this world.
…or the same holds true for family members who are raising little bitties for their family members.
The focus here should be the parent and child – the health and well-being of both. The journey of parenthood and childhood, which is way more important in my opinion, than whether or not a baby was born vaginally or via c-section, with or without drugs, etc.
We are at home, all of us adjusting. Big brother loves… wait, adores his little sister. He dances for her, plays music for her, kisses her, and combs his hands through her hair. He insists that I bring her to bed with him at night so we can all be together. Even if she cries, he knows that’s the only way she knows how to communicate. Of course, we’ve been prepping him for quite some time on how it would be, so I’m not surprised that he’s doing as well as he is.
My husband, well, he is completely enamored and smitten with our little girl. He’s the best daddy ever and the best husband. No, really he is. For me anyway 🙂
Thank you for reading my birth story!