I was warned that my second labor might go faster than my first. But I wasn’t quite prepared for just how fast.
April 20, 2018. It was just a typical Friday for me. I woke up nauseous, but drove Logan to school. This was something special I had added to our routine, as I was feeling “well enough” in the mornings with medication and I could give Daddy a chance to sleep in for the first time in about 8 months. I had also added in a few gym sessions each week, determined to walk the baby out, so I stopped there on my way home. My mother-in-law decided she wanted to take me shopping and to get my nails done, so we hopped on over to Palo Alto to browse for some newborn things at Janie and Jack and Pottery Barn. In the afternoon, we came back to Union City for pedicures. During the drive back from Palo Alto, my mother-in-law asked if I had been experiencing any random contractions, and I hopelessly said no. During the prior week, I had started everything for Operation Baby Eviction. I tried spicy food, walking 1-2 miles per day, and eating pineapple and dates. I had also bounced on an exercise ball for the majority of our 2 six-hour childbirth preparation weekend classes. I was determined to get the baby out. I was devastated when my OB did a cervical check at 36 weeks and said I was only dilated 1-2.
My mother-in-law left me at the nail salon to go pick up Logan from school, and suddenly I started feeling a contraction. Fifteen minutes later, there was another contraction. I had a few more over the following 2 hours, but they were painless and very spread apart still. I was happy to know my body was preparing itself for labor, but I knew it could easily be another 2-3 weeks before baby Roman decided to arrive.
By the time I got home, I was feeling a little nervous, so I did confide in my husband about the contractions, but told him not to worry. I hadn’t experienced any other “signs of labor,” nor had the contractions become stronger or more consistent. I tried to lay on the couch with a heating pad to ease some of the cramping, which helped a little. However, when we got up to leave for my father-in-law’s birthday dinner, I suddenly found that I couldn’t sit down in the car because Roman had dropped so far down into my pelvis. Still, I wasn’t really worried as the contractions were still sporadic and not painful.
When we sat down at the restaurant, I decided it was time to get out my contraction timer on my phone and start timing them – again, “just in case.” Within 15 minutes, I realized the contractions were coming very quickly and lasting longer and longer. I sat right next to my father-in-law, trying to hide my phone so no one would know I was sitting there timing contractions. After about 30 minutes of whispering back-and-forth with my husband after each contraction, we decided to let my sister-in-law know what I was doing. She told us to tell my mother-in-law, but the music was deafening from the mariachi band playing at the Mexican restaurant, so I don’t think she fully understood what we were telling her. Meanwhile, I had texted my mom to let her know about the contractions so she could prepare for the possible 45-minute drive to Fremont and pack bags so they could stay in a hotel in our area after the baby arrived. At that point, I still didn’t think much of it and warned her that it could be a false alarm.
I got up to use the restroom and take a breather, when I realized I had lost my mucous plug. It was at that moment that I realized I was in early labor and I quickly called my mom. My mother-in-law showed up in the bathroom a few minutes later to check on me, and I told her I was fine. I got back to the table and told my husband it’s time to go to the hospital. We made arrangements for Logan to go home with my sister-in-law, and said some quick goodbyes before heading out of the restaurant. My mother-in-law followed us out and said she was coming to the hospital with us.
We went home, and I was told I needed to pack up Logan’s baseball uniform and gear because he had a game the next day and we would need someone else to take him. So, pausing multiple times to fold in half and breathe through contractions, I packed up his stuff and waited. Why was I waiting? Because my husband hadn’t packed any of his things for the hospital bag. My doctor had looked us in the eye at 34 weeks and said to prepare because they wouldn’t try very hard to stop labor at that point. And here we were, at almost 38 weeks, with only my things and the baby’s things packed. I think he was in a daze, because it seemed to take forever, but finally he was all packed and ready to drive to the hospital.
By the time we got to the hospital, my contractions were becoming more consistent again, but still not extremely painful. We went upstairs to the Labor and Delivery floor and began to get checked in. I changed into a hospital gown, and a nurse came and strapped on the fetal heart rate and contraction monitors. I listened happily to Roman’s heart beating away as I began to answer some of the nurse’s questions as she was checking me in. I told her how far apart my contractions were, how they had slowed down for a while, but were starting to become closer together again. We could hear Roman kicking away on the monitor, but I think the nurse turned down the volume so she could hear my answers to the questions. I still wasn’t sure if the hospital would admit me at that point, and I hadn’t been checked for dilation yet. Suddenly, we all heard a big “boom” on the monitor as Roman jolted around, and then all of a sudden it was like the floodgates opened – he had broken my water. The nurse told me that I definitely wasn’t going home now!
My parents arrived soon after, and the contractions became really strong, consistent, and painful once my water broke. The doctors had to break my water with Logan, so I had never experienced how disgusting it is when your water breaks, or how it keeps on coming in gushes with every contraction for a while. I was still able to talk and socialize with everyone between the contractions for an hour or so, but then they became extremely painful – and I’d say I have a pretty high pain tolerance given the miserable pregnancy I experienced. The contractions were coming on strong, one on top of the other, with no break in between. My determination started to fade and not even back or foot massages helped me deal with the pain anymore. I just wanted everyone to go away, or at least stop talking, so I could concentrate on working through the pain. It got to the point where it felt like Roman was cracking my pelvic bone into a million pieces, and at that point I caved and requested the epidural. The nurse said only one person could be in the room during the epidural, and I was honestly very relieved when everyone except my mom shuffled out of the room.
The anesthesiologist came in and the nurse had me curl up my body into the worst, most uncomfortable position and instructed me to hold very still and remember to breathe during the epidural procedure. The contractions were even worse, and I felt them much stronger in the horrible contorted position I had to sit in. It still felt like Roman was breaking all the bones in my body on his way out, and I was a mess. At one point, I even snapped at my mom, telling her she needed to back her chair away from me because I felt suffocated. The nurse tried to distract me, but I didn’t hear a word she said. The anesthesiologist told me the first epidural failed, and if I could have moved, I would have turned around and slapped him. Thankfully, although it seemed to take an eternity, the second epidural worked – or at least they told me it did.
However, I continued to feel intense pain and was freaking out because the epidural didn’t seem to work. They made me suffer through 4 more contractions before telling me that I could give myself a few extra doses of the epidural. I tried that, and even the extra medicine did nothing to ease the pain. While I didn’t feel the enormous pain of the strong contractions, I still felt like my pelvis and back were being broken. That’s when they told me I was having “back labor” because Roman was facing the wrong way. Basically, I had his skull ripping my back and pelvis apart as he moved further down with each contraction. I wouldn’t wish that pain on my worst enemy.
I was crying and shaking through each contraction, but eventually, the epidural took away the pain and I was able to relax. I thought I would get to enjoy a nice little break and build up my energy for pushing. The nurse came in to check my progression, and she told Donnie to come look because she could see the top of Roman’s head. There went my plan to have any sort of break! Luckily, at that point, the epidural was so strong that I literally could barely feel my legs. It took maybe 4 pushes, none of which I felt in the slightest, and he was out! Both our moms were able to be in the room as well, and it was special having everyone there to witness Roman’s arrival.
They placed Roman on my chest, and everyone was crying and fussing around me, but all I could do was lay there in complete shock as I felt his tiny, warm body pressed against mine. The pregnancy put me through Hell and back, and I don’t think I ever fully accepted that there was a baby growing inside me, despite his constant kicks and punches. When they put him on my chest, skin-to-skin, I finally realized this fragile little person had been developing and growing for the last 9 months, and here he was, finally in our world, perfectly healthy and full of life. He snuggled so far up under my chin, probably to listen to me breathe, that I couldn’t even see his face. Overall, though, his warmth and presence felt so comforting, I instantly forgot about how insanely painful labor had been.
As per hospital policy, we had two hours of skin-to-skin, and it was bliss. It’s kind of all a blur, but I vividly remember just feeling so content to hold and cuddle him. I didn’t care about who else was in the room, what they were doing, what kind of mayhem he had caused on my body during his quick exit (although I did notice the doctor using stitches), how my mother-in-law had now probably seen more of my body than I’d ever imagined she would – all I focused on was that perfect little baby. And boy, was he little! He was 6 pounds exactly and 18.5 inches at birth, almost the same length as Logan when he was born but a full 11 ounces lighter.
Our families stayed for a few hours, but since I gave birth at 2am, everyone was pretty exhausted by around 5am. We said goodbye to our parents and told them to get some rest before coming back. It was an eventful night, I was extremely happy Roman decided to stay in for 2 hours past midnight (I did not want a 4/20 baby), and I was instantly cured of the hyperemesis. I was able to eat a little, and probably drank a gallon of water that night. Water had never tasted so delicious before.
I’m very lucky that the labor and delivery went so smoothly. Despite the horrific back labor, I’m grateful that the contractions came on so suddenly and progressed so quickly, so I didn’t have a long, grueling labor at home. Most of the actual, painful labor happened in the hospital, and the fact that the second epidural completely numbed me made delivery a breeze. 
April 21 made me a mom of two. It’s been quite a transition already over the last two weeks, but I wouldn’t trade a single moment of it. My little family is complete.
