It's October 2nd. Brian and I are standing outside our apartment building and I'm awkwardly trying to pivot my body so my distended stomach can get a full hit of the light glowing from the full moon. I am 39 weeks and 5 days pregnant and crossing my fingers that a full moon will send me into labor.
8 1/2 months earlier I was spiraling. I was nauseated unless I was asleep. I felt so run down and overwhelmed and frankly, terrified. I didn't know how I would survive the toil of a pregnancy, the stress of a pandemic, or the eventual reality of having three kids. One morning on the way out to the car, I saw the morning moon and a feeling of calm passed over me. There was the quickest moment of knowing I could do this. And then a kid needed to be buckled into their carseat or show me a bug or something and the moment was over. The first (and most of the second) trimester dragged on and on, with the "silver lining" of a combined pandemic and pregnancy being that one was always distracting me from the other. We stayed home, I parented the best I could, the baby grew. The days grew longer and hotter and I longed for our swimming pool to be open, for a babymoon, for any piece of normalcy. I would see the moon and get the air back in my lungs for a moment. And then suddenly it was October and I was hoping the moon would once again do me a solid and get labor started.
I had foolishly expected a third baby to arrive early. I scheduled an induction for October 5th, the day after my due date, just to have that box checked, but was certain he would arrive well before that. If, by some unfortunate circumstance, I was still pregnant in October, surely a full moon on the 2nd would pop him out. Ha! The day before my induction arrived and I was still extremely pregnant.
My parents came down that afternoon to visit and take the girls for the week. Around 4, I got a call from L&D asking if I wanted to come in that night for my induction instead of in the morning. My first thought was "Oh, of course not," but I told then I would call them back. Immediately my brain started spinning. How can you be so eager and impatient for something but then also want to put it off for a while? I'll never understand. We sent off the girls and discussed the options, and Nathan even video chatted with us about it. I decided I would rather get this show on the road instead of spending one more anxious night at home. I called back to confirm and as soon as I hung up realized I was urgently hungry. Brian picked up dinner from Taqueria 27 (the same place we ate before my induction/c-section with Norah. We love a tradition). We ate, I stress vacuumed, and we listened to a podcast (IHIBILI) to pass the time.
At 7 we nervously got into the car and had what felt like the longest drive ever to the hospital. I've always been able to walk waddle calmly into the hospital to have my babies which (as with most parts of birth) goes against everything I was taught from tv. We checked in and got to talk neighborhood news with the nurse, as he lived in a complex just down the street from us.
After getting checked in, settled, and double-checking that baby boy was facing the right direction (after Norah being surprise breech I'll never trust that a baby is head down) the plan was laid out. Pitocin, something to soften my cervix, and a foley insertion. And then a full night of sleep! (HA). The night was uncomfortable but uneventful. It felt like a crime that I had to pee so frequently which required me to remove the baby monitors strapped to my giant abdomen, unplug the iv power cord, avoid getting tangled in the remaining cords as I pulled the iv bar into the bathroom AND THEN deal with using the bathroom while there was a small balloon inserted into my vagina.
ANYWAY.
I didn't get much sleep. Shockingly. But I did listen to a couple episodes of You're Wrong About that were about Princess Diana. So, not the worst night. The foley came out around 5 am and by 7 those pitocin contractions were just rolling on through. They were uncomfortable but not too major yet. As the morning progressed so did the contractions and I finally had to get out of bed try to move through them. Since I was hooked up to ALL THE THINGS I mostly stayed by the top corner of my bed, and used it to lean over and try to breath through them. I tried to keep eating my breakfast so I would have something in my system before the epidural and Brian put on my baby playlist.
(Brian's portable speaker kept repeating that it was connected to bluetooth and, though it was a robot voice, I wanted to strangle her. I was bent over the corner of my hospital bed and growled for her to stop.talking.)
Breakfast became unconsumable. The contractions had amped up a lot, and the nurse was doing counterpressure which helped so much. What kind of witch magic is that? She showed Brian how to do it, and he gently checked in to see if I was ready for the epidural. Don't ask me why I always have to be nudged towards pain relief when it's always been a major player in my birth plan. The epidural was ordered and I got some kind of pain relief in the meantime, which proved extremely helpful in keeping me calm and still for the epidural. I got the epidural at 10:40 and by 11:50 they broke my water and I was at 6 cm. I was feeling elated that things were moving along, my epidural was working beautifully, and that I was so close to finally getting that baby in my arms.
Unfortunately, by 2:30 progress had stalled and they upped the pitocin. I tried to get comfortable, but I was having back labor that the epidural wasn't touching. My nurse helped me get on my side and summoned like 10 pillows out of nowhere to support my unwieldy body (more witch magic!). She thought maybe the baby was posterior, which was contributing to the back labor. I upped the epidural meds a bit and finally finally got some sleep.
All this time I was being periodically checked by the midwife and the midwife in training, Nathan, who had picked up a shift specifically so he could be there. All praise Nathan!
During my nap, I heard the midwife come in to check things, but told everyone to wait and let me sleep. All praise the midwife!
A while later I was woken up to hear that it was go time! The monitors had shown progress that I was unaware of in my epidural dream state. It was around 4 pm and it was pushing time. I pushed a few times and it looked like he had turned back into anterior position (sweet!). The midwife asked if I wanted to feel his head. I did! And I'll be honest, it felt gross. But it was gross AND exciting!!
I asked if this was it and everyone nodded and suddenly the amount of people in the room seemed to triple. (I'll never get over the absolute ease I felt as one person after another was formally introduced to my entire bottom half). Just by chance, the song I walked down the aisle to was playing. As they readied everything for the delivery, I caught Brian's hand and pulled him down for a kiss. Nathan gave me the go-ahead and got into baby-catching position. I gave my all for the final push and felt his body leave mine. Feeling the release of the pressure that had been steadily growing for 9 months was the biggest relief. My beautiful, red, mad baby was placed on my stomach. I touched his face and thanked everything that he was here safely. All I wanted was to hold him, but it was determined that he needed his lungs cleared a little more. They kept him in the room and I asked Brian to stay with him. I knew he was safe but immediately began sobbing. Suddenly being on your own after all this big activity is a profoundly lonely feeling. I know people checked on me, and for crying out loud, I TOLD Brian to go be with the baby, mere feet away. But it's just...a lot of feelings.
I somehow had the presence of mind to try and distract myself. I asked Nathan if I could see the placenta and he showed me the BRAND NEW organ that my body had made that had sustained my baby for months. Then, finally, it was time. They brought me my baby and all the pieces fell back into place as he laid on my chest. I stroked his cheeks and his soft downy hair. He kept trying to latch and I nursed him for the first time. And then we were able to just stare at him and hold his tiny hand and be in our magic bubble for almost two hours. Everett Owen Walker, our little pandemic moon baby, was finally here and he was perfect.
