A Birth: The Rest

This is the second half of Marlee’s birth story.

To read the first half click here.

I almost didn’t make it to the hospital when I delivered Jace. Truly, I didn’t. I labored at home soaking in our bathtub a bit too long. So long that he was this close to being one of those babies that got delivered by their dad in the back seat of the family car. I had promised myself that this time around I was going to be a better judge of contractions. I wanted to labor at home as long as possible, but I was also more aware that my labor was capable of moving very quickly. I told myself I could soak in the tub just until contractions made me want to swear and then it was time to wake up Spencer and head in the hospitals direction.

I kept my commitment and as soon as my contractions got to the hurts like the dickens level {which is a couple notches above the I hate being a women level and slightly below the I wish I were dead level} I climbed out of the bathtub, woke Spencer, and dressed for the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital it was 6:30 am and I was at a 6 and 75% effaced.  My advanced laboring state angered the nursing staff.  I’m not even kidding. The hospital was packed {remember how they canceled my induction} and they were overwhelmed with the thought of yet another labor and delivery. “Why does every mother in [our town] have to choose today to have a baby,” one nurse said to another while standing by my bed. Spencer and I rolled our eyes and I breathed my way through another contraction. Excuse me! And sorry for the inconvenience, but like it or not, this baby’s coming!!

The contractions kept getting longer, more intense and less manageable. I knew it wasn’t going to be long.

After some blood work, an IV and a debate over which type of antibiotics I would be given {I was strep B positive, but also allergic to amoxicillin} they asked me if I wanted an epidural. I declined. Because I’m borderline crazy!

I had an epidural when I delivered Brynlee. I think mainly because that was what I thought you were supposed to do. Everybody I knew delivered their babies with epidurals. I mean - why not - it hurts like hell without one. And then with Jace I didn’t have an epidural {because, again, I almost had him in the car…there just wasn’t time for it}. After everything was said and done I decided that I actually liked the epidural free experience better. I wasn’t as tired afterwards, Jace was more alert, I could walk around during and right after labor, I felt like a superhero, and – the best part - I didn’t have to have a huge ole’ needle stuck in my spinal cord {{shudder}}.  I mean, there are definite benefits to an epidural – like, you know, PAIN RELIEF, but I was determined to deliver without one. I had done it before, I could do it again.

So anyways, I declined the epidural.

The nurse came back in a little while later to check me - I was at an eight – and she told me that she was going to call Doctor Cox in to break my water. I agreed, but asked if I could have some sort of pain medication to take the edge off before he did. I knew that after my water was broke the already dreadful contractions would only intensify. Up to this point I had had no pain relief (unless you count the two Tylenol that I had taken at 4:00 in the morning for the pounding headache) and I was now at the I wish I were dead level and wanted some kind of something to dull the pain a bit.

Her response – are you ready for this - they didn’t have anything! NO FOOLIN’! The HOSPITAL didn’t have ANYTHING!?  Say what?  No narcotics. Are you kidding me? Then call in a local drug dealer, exchange all my belongings for a dosage of Demerol, sell my soul for some Nubain…I didn’t care how I got it, I just wanted SOMETHING.

She mumbled on about some sort of drug shortage something or another and how they had used their limited supply and didn’t have anything available {I’m not making this stuff up you guys} and then she called in Dr. Cox to break my water and left the room.

Spencer tried to comfort me.

Just as I expected, my contractions continued to intensify. I went from an I wish I were dead level to a please, kill me level quickly. It hurt. A lot! I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream and most definitely couldn’t control the pain enough to have a baby! And then shortly after I reached that dark place where I was certain I was going to die Marlee Danielle was born.

After nine months of misery, I’d found the cure. She was beautiful, healthy, and came out screaming. And suddenly every.single.bit.of.it was totally worth it. The puking, the nausea, the maternity clothes, the puking, the downiness, the cravings, the weight gain, the puking, the delivering a baby on Tylenol alone! All of it, worth it.  

And life with baby Marlee at our house is just as sweet as can be.

*Marlee was born two days before her due date, on June 12, 2012 at 10:08 am.

*She shares a birthday with her Great Grandpa Jess.

*She was delivered by Dr. Cox. The same doctor that delivered Brynlee and Jace.

*She is named after her daddy: Daniel Spencer.

*Her Birth Stats: 7 pounds 8 ounces // 21 inches.