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.
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