It's hard to know where to start in telling the birth story of our little Milo.
I guess a good place to start is the beginning.
At
7 weeks pregnant - just three weeks after we had found out we were expecting
our little solider - I began experiencing severe pain around my right ovary. I
waited a few hours, and as the pain increased, David and I became increasingly
concerned. I finally contacted our midwife, Kathleen, and she recommended going
to the ER. I was terrified that this was an ectopic pregnancy and we would
never get to meet our little Peanut.
After a couple of hours of waiting, testing, and a sonogram, we were told I had
a subchorionic hematoma (a blood clot in the uterus that is usually not
life-threatening for mother or baby) and that I needed to be restricted in
activity or I could become worse and lose the baby. We were so relieved. And
then I was so frustrated. We had planned on waiting five more weeks to announce
to the general public that we were expecting again, with something cute and
clever. Instead, we announced right away, wanting, needing the prayer coverage
and physical support (which was overwhelming). We had to convert Sam's crib to
a toddler bed at 10 months old (he did great). I had to ask for help cleaning
and with meals and lifting Sam (we had amazing friends and family who selflessly
and immediately came to our aid). I couldn't go to the grocery store on my own
with Sam (felt like the end of the world to me, but believe it or not, I
lived).
Then, at 12 weeks, I experienced more cramping and spotting - something I had
never had in Sam's pregnancy. Again I talked to Kathleen, and I was referred
for an emergency sono. The baby was fine, and it was determined I had just been
overdoing it. (That was the week before Sam's first birthday, when he
contracted strep throat, which turned into Scarlet Fever. I had been holding
him a lot.)
At
21 weeks – so for literally half of my pregnancy – the false labor started. (In
case you’re new to our story, I have very severe Endometriosis – so severe, we
were warned we might never have children of our own – and I experienced false
labor from week 25 with my first pregnancy. Because it was my first pregnancy,
we were constantly concerned, stressed, anxious, terrified that we were going
to have a pre-term baby. Because of my Endo, we think my uterus is just way more irritable than most.) Thankfully,
having been through that with Sam, we weren't worried this time. In fact,
contrary to Sam's pregnancy, I barely even monitored my contractions. I just
dealt with them and tried to listen to when my body was telling me I was doing
too much.
Around 36 weeks, just as with Sam’s
pregnancy, the contractions started to pick up in frequency and intensity. I
figured I should probably start keeping track of them now. While they were
getting stronger day by day, they weren’t quite at “real” labor yet. I knew
Milo would come any day, though, and every day, David would ask me, “Is he
coming today? Or am I going to work?” Every day, it was the same answer: “I don’t
know. He could come today. But he’s not coming right now. Go to work, I guess.”
I began to dread the time of day when David would go to work, because I hated
being asked. Every day it was the same: They were stronger, more frequent, I
was more frustrated and exhausted by my body. I lived for my weekly checkups, wanting, hoping, praying for
progress.
I had Kathleen check me at week 37. I was
dilated 1cm, and about 80% effaced. Kathleen agreed to let me start taking an
herbal labor prep supplement at 38 weeks if Milo was “somehow” still in there. At
38 weeks, Tuesday, April 8th, I started taking the labor prep. I was
dying to get the child out of me. I
had tried everything short of castor oil. I ate a whole pineapple (and got
nothing but mouth ulcers); I walked – a lot
– and got more contractions, even some back pain, but no labor; I did squats, I
ate spicy food…You name it, I tried it. I was ready, David was ready, but Milo
wasn’t.
On Wednesday, I started to feel even stronger
contractions. I saw Kathleen in the morning, had her check me again. I was
dilated to almost 2cms now, and around 90% effaced. Milo was in an ideal
position for labor, but as the little toot spun on his head all day long, every
day, I didn’t see how that was relevant. She was sure that Milo would come
before my next week’s appointment. David
was at work, and I suddenly realized at 8pm that I didn’t have any diapers for
a newborn. I panicked. My baby could be
born tonight, and his butt won’t have anything to cover it!! (Oh, the crazy
thoughts of a pregnant lady.) So Sam and I made a trek to Target by ourselves,
very tired, very pregnant, and very
much suffering through “real” contractions. Every few minutes I would have to
stop pushing the cart, bend over and lean against it, focusing on my breathing.
We made it home, eventually, both of us exhausted, and…nothing happened. No
baby.
Thursday, I decided to rest. I resolved to
take it easy, stay off my feet as much as possible, let the stubborn little boy
come when he was ready. (Novel idea, no?) The contractions were still coming
hard and heavy, but experience told me that this was still not the real thing.
Friday, with the contractions coming stronger
and more frequently still, I decided to go ahead and go to Target again and stock
up on food around 1pm, since I didn’t think this little boy would be baking
much longer. I could barely make it through the store. Again, I went with Sam,
while David was at work, but, OH, the contractions! I was stopping, squatting
in the middle of aisles, inhaling and exhaling, making moans and grunts I
think, as I was finally experiencing back labor, about every two minutes. A
contraction would hit, I would drop into a squat, clinging to the cart handle
for support and balance, it would pass, I would struggle back to my feet and
waddle a few more yards before the next one hit. I was finally in very early
labor. It was by far the most miserable shopping experience I have ever had.
Would you be shopping for 12-packs of soda in this condition? I was. (Oh, the
crazy actions of a pregnant lady.)
After about an hour, we checked out and went
home. David got off work at QuikTrip around that time, came home between jobs;
he was scheduled to work at Pizza Hut from 5pm-10pm. Again, the question: Do I go to work tonight?
I didn’t know. I could tell we were so
close to real labor, but I didn’t know the answer for him. So he went to
Pizza Hut. Around 7:00 I texted him that the contractions were getting
stronger. At 8:00 I called him and told him to come home. It was still early
labor, but it was definitely labor and it was too much for me on my own with
Sam. Some time between 8:30 and 9:00, he got home. He bathed Sam and put him in
(unmatching) pajamas (which would bug me to no end), and we decided to put him
down for the night. Nothing was happening in the immediate future, and we knew
it would best for him to have as much rest as possible. I really wanted him in
the room when Milo was born, David was more of the “if he’s awake, he’s awake,
if he’s asleep, let him sleep” mentality.
By now, we definitely knew this was the real
thing, so David started tidying the apartment and I sat on my yoga ball and
bounced, trying to progress without exerting too much precious energy. It was déjà
vu “all over again.” I was texting Kathleen and keeping her updated. There was no regularity to the
contractions, just like the last time, they would come two minutes, then five
minutes, then one and a half minutes apart, and last anywhere from a minute to
three minutes. The back labor was increasing in intensity, and (with Kathleen’s
permission) I checked myself and discovered I was at 3cms now. At around 11:00
we decided that Kathleen should come. She had said so many times that she was
pretty sure that once I hit 4cms, the baby would come very quickly, so nobody wanted to repeat what had happened last
time and get down to the wire, so to speak.
