The Story of Isla June

When Avey girl was about 14 months old, we decided to start trying for a new baby. We wanted our littlies to be close together in age so they could be close friends. I was an only child growing up and Robert always felt like he and his brother were a little too far apart in age, so we wanted our kids to be at most two years or so apart. I was still breastfeeding at the time and I hadn't started back on any sort of monthly menstrual cycle, so we didn't think it would even happen any time soon, but we started trying any way. Well, the next month, I started getting really tired in the early evenings again and sure enough - pregnant. I didn't even see a period.

My pregnancy was fairly uneventful, just like Aven's (If you aren't familiar with Aven's birth story, you can find it here.) I was actually a lot less sore this time around because I'd been more active shooting weddings and portraits and was in better shape than I had been when I was pregnant with Aven. As my pregnancy went on, I was so surprised at how fast it seemed to be passing by. Aven's pregnancy seemed to last forever, but with this one, before I knew it, I was 38 weeks and baby should be making an appearance any day. I was starting to get sore by this point and really having trouble rolling over in bed and I was having a lot of pelvic pain again. My pregnancies are ALL belly pregnancies so I have a lot of extra weight in the front and moving tends to be really hard at the end.

At our 38 week appointment, we figured out that our little surprise baby was posterior. Most of you know that Aven was posterior and for that reason, we had to be transferred to the hospital with her. After I came home that day, I spent the next few weeks on my hands and knees, doing spinning babies exercises and doing Miles Circuits multiple times a day. It was exhausting and baby wasn't cooperating. Oh well, she'll be here soon because second pregnancies are generally shorter than first pregnancies so she'll be smaller than Aven and more than likely come out easier. 

Well, my due date comes and goes and little baby still hasn't made an appearance. I'm having no labor signs at all and baby is still posterior. At this point, the pregnancy that had flown by starts moving in slow motion. Forty-one weeks comes and goes and still no sign of baby. No sign of labor except the loss of a few little bits of mucus plug (if that grosses you out, you should probably read no further, also, never google mucus plug. I promise, I'm doing you a favor by telling you that). At this point, I'm getting nervous that my due date might have been wrong and that we won't be able to birth at home like I so desperately wanted. Like I said earlier, I never had a period, so our due date was measured by an early ultrasound instead of my last menstrual period so I wasn't sure if it was totally accurate.

At 41 weeks, we had to get an ultrasound to make sure everything looked okay. Baby was measuring eight lbs and a lot of ounces, I don't remember exact measurements, but it was almost nine pounds according to the ultrasound. I also had more fluids than normal, but other than that, everything looked great still. I wasn't worried about the weight because with Aven's ultrasound, she was measuring above nine pounds and came out at eight pounds and two ounces, so I knew the measurement was probably bigger than what baby actually weighed.

The next day, I discussed the ultrasound with my midwives. I was overdue, I was expecting another big baby that was still in the posterior position and 42 weeks was approaching in a few days. I cried all day Wednesday because we were already picking out hospitals that we would transfer care to if we didn't go into labor by Sunday and no one really seemed hopeful about my delivery at all, or so it seemed to me being the overdue, hormonal, pregnant woman I was. I was starting to get very disheartened and incredibly sad. I was still having no labor signs at all. Nothing seemed to be happening. I walked the mall twice. Walked the parks. I had sex while feeling oh so glamorous with my ginormous belly. I ate eggplant parmesan. Pineapple. Evening primrose oil. Red raspberry leaf tea. I pumped. Nothing.

On Thursday (my last day to successfully try for a home birth was Sunday) I went into the midwifery where we would now try to stretch my cervix and see if it would help to jump start labor at all. This was pretty much a blast. If you've never had your cervix stretched before, you should definitely try it.

I'm kidding obviously because it's the worst thing I've ever experienced.

Back to being serious. I was already dilated to a three and pretty thinned out so we were able to successfully stretch it a little bit and cause a few contractions. This made me a little more hopeful. However, after going home that night, I didn't have any more contractions, just a few little cramps that tapered off before I went to bed that night.

I woke up Friday morning around 5:45ish disappointed again that nothing had happened throughout the night and I still wasn't having contractions. I got up to empty my pregnant bladder and came back to bed. I fell back to sleep and woke up after having four surprising contractions within 45 minutes. Still denying the fact that I was in labor, I tried to go to sleep again but couldn't because I kept having contractions about every ten minutes. I went to get my phone so I could start timing them. They were coming about every ten minutes and lasting about 45 seconds or so but I still wasn't totally sure I was in labor yet. I got up, let my mom know that things seemed to maybe be picking up, and I messaged my midwife who was supposed to come to my house at 9:00 that day so we could try some natural induction methods to try to get labor started. I let her know I was having a few contractions every now and then and she said she still wanted to come at 9:00 just in case. I decided to take a shower and put on some makeup and get ready for the day. At around 8:00, I decided to wake up Robert and let him know what was going on, called my photographer and we called the rest of the family to let them know. Contractions were coming faster and harder by this point so I stopped measuring and timing them completely because I was pretty sure I was in labor by this point and my midwife was already coming over in a few hours so I didn't really see a need.

By 9:00, I was on my couch on my hands and knees (still trying to spin a baby!) with pretty intense contractions, but still getting a pretty good break in between. I ate some breakfast and we blew up the pool and waited through contractions for my midwife and assistants to get here. They arrived around 9:30 and we decided to check dilation to see where we were and if we were progressing at all.

"Oh shit," was my reaction when I was informed that I was dilated to a seven. A seven? Already? I've only been in labor for a few short hours and it's still morning! I was in labor with Aven for around 18 hours and early labor lasted even longer! 

I got up, labored through a few contractions while standing, and then decided I wanted to get in the pool soon. It was taking AGES to fill up but we eventually got it full and I finally got some good relief with the hot water. Aven was super excited that there was a pool in our living room, so she got in to swim with mama for a little bit before contractions started getting too intense. I labored in the pool an hour or so and started to lose track of time. I labored in the pool on my side, on my knees, while pretty much floating on my stomach, anything that felt comfortable - if you could call it comfortable. I was feeling a lot of pressure down below at this point and everything was coming fast and strong and way too intense. I started thinking, why did I decide to do this again? Was there really a good reason for not just going to the hospital and getting an epidural? These contractions were coming way faster and stronger than anything I remember with Aven and I just wasn't sure I could endure another five to ten hours of it! Ack! I was starting to stay really uncomfortable through all of the contractions in the tub so we decided to go to the bedroom because all I really wanted to do was lie down. I had a few contractions in the hallway and I realized I was already way more comfortable than I had been in the tub so that was exciting. Maybe I could endure the rest of this.

We got to the bed and decided to check progress while we were there. Guess what? I was fully dilated. What? How was this going so fast? It had only been a few hours since hard labor had even started. I flipped over on my side and started having really intense, really strong contractions. They were overlapping each other. Instead of coming and going. They were coming, then pretending to go, then picking back up again even stronger before offering me any relief. They were more intense than anything I remember with Aven. (I already said that, but I just want to reiterate that fact. I was thinking to myself at this point that there was no way I could take anymore of this and those are thoughts that never crossed my mind during Aven's labor, even when I was in the car for 20 minutes while trying to fight off pushing.) Then I remembered what everyone says. When you're at the point where you think you can't do it anymore, that's transition and you don't have much longer to go. Maybe I could do it after all. Another contraction. Maybe not. This was way too intense. No way I can do this for three or four more hours.

My midwife suggested that I try a few contractions on my hands and knees and then a few standing up. Moving sounds awful at this point, but I agree. Once I'm standing up, Robert is behind me supporting me and rubbing my back. Then my water breaks. All over everything. Including my husband. It's funny later, I promise. Remember when I mentioned that I had a lot more fluid than most people, for some reason? Yeah, that was really noticeable right about now. 

After my water broke, contractions got more intense and I was feeling a little bit of pressure to push, but nothing nearly as intense as with Aven. With Aven, when I finally wanted to push, my body seemed to be convulsing and it was this involuntary contraction that I couldn't stop. This time, I just barely felt an urge to push like I needed to take a bowel movement, but not even that intense. I labored for a few more contractions on the bed frame and then my midwife asked me to turn around and for Robert to hold up my arms so I could sort of squat. I was really confused by this position and really uncomfortable as Robert is almost a foot taller than me. My legs were shaking trying to hold myself up because I was basically on my tiptoes. I could feel "the ring of fire" and I knew that that's when baby starts to make its appearance. Some people push for hours though and I just wasn't sure I could take this burning for much longer. "I can see your baby's head!" What?! I haven't even pushed yet! "Can you reach down and touch it?" Absolutely not! I can't even hold my body up right now! "Give a little push... Baby's head is out!" WHAT?! And one or two more pushes and baby was here!

What just happened? I pushed for literally less than five minutes and I already have my baby in my arms. It looks like a boy. Is it a boy? It's a girl! I knew it was a girl! Then there we were, in the corner of our bedroom, holding our new baby. And that was that.

We moved over to our bed and Aven came in to meet her new sister. Everyone was happy and everything was perfect. Everything was everything I had imagined it would be. ..and it was only 1:21 P.M. I could still have lunch. We all laid down, had some snacks and stared at each other and drank some juice and talked about what had just happened and stared at each other some more. Baby never cried and tried to nurse a little bit and everything was perfect.

Baby had all her finger and toes and everyone guessed her height and weight. Everyone was wrong. Baby girl weighed in at nine pounds and five ounces and 23 inches long and everyone was shocked. Dr. Ryan had said that if Aven had been any bigger, she wouldn't have come out naturally. She would have been a c-section. I just pushed out a nine pound baby in less than five minutes. I'm still processing everything.

We named Isla June three days later and now here we are. She sleeps all day and stays awake right about the time I'm most tired at night. Just perfectly how a newborn should. She gets cuter and cuter everyday. Big sister has had a few meltdowns, but mostly loves her baby sister.

A much less suspenseful story than Aven's, but much less traumatic for this mama. My body and mind both feel better and I'm much less emotional than last time. All good things.

Thank you SO much to Catie Bartlett for all the wonderful, beautiful photos!