Austin’s Birth Story

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[I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous about the change. ⁣

Will I have enough energy for two? What sacrifices will I have to make? Will we pick the right name? Will Nolan get along with his brother? Will Remi feel neglected and sad? Will I be enough while their father is away? ⁣

What I do know is God is in control. He is enough & He is preparing us daily. All we can do now is trust & wait..]

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I wrote this on May 4, 2019. A day before Austin was born.

I am one of those women who loves being pregnant. I loved wearing maternity clothes. I lived in those stretchy dresses. I couldn’t wait to start wearing my jeans with the “over the belly band.” However, due to military family life, there was much stress around Austin’s delivery. Ryan was slated to deploy for 6 months at any point in the window of May 10-20th. Austin’s due date was May 4. When we found out we were pregnant with Austin it came after almost of year of “not pregnant.” We were stressed because according to “our plans” if we didn’t get pregnant before August 2018, we were going to stop trying as to not risk me delivering a baby while Ryan was gone. Then we got pregnant in our “stop window.” It was timed that Ryan would be at the delivery but gone a week or two later.

I remember pushing back the fear of Ryan missing our son’s delivery for much of my pregnancy. But the closer we got to the due date, the more anxious I became. At one point, his command forgot I was pregnant and scheduled Ryan to leave weeks earlier for the deployment for what’s known as ADVON. Thankfully, he was able to switch his spot with another guy in his squadron.

As my due date and Ryan’s deployment window approached we started planning what would happen if the baby was born later than May 4th. Ryan’s command said he could stay behind but we would have to pay out of pocket for him to reach his deployment location at a later date. We had to put a price on whether we thought Ryan needed to be in the delivery room. I was both angry and grateful that we had a choice.

Saturday, May 4th came and I had no contractions. Baby seemed content and I was getting worried.

That morning, we attended the Poway Farmers Market as a family, my dad in tow waiting to step up to care for Nolan while I delivered a baby. I drank a super sweet pineapple smoothie (apparently pineapples induce labor). It was a warm day and we walked and walked. That afternoon, Ryan and I visited a small winery. We shared a wine tasting. So many people were shocked that I was drinking red wine on my due date, but I already got the approval from my doula, Maya, that one glass was fine. Ryan and I had a blast just the two of us. Then we came home and watched the “Lego Batman Movie” with my dad and Nolan. The biggest thing I did that day was turn off my phone. I committed to a social media blackout for 24 hours.

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At 11:30 pm, I felt my first contraction. Ryan didn’t believe me.

When I had Nolan, my labor and delivery started at 11pm (also on a Saturday night) and he was born at 2:31 am. He was 9 days late but he wasn’t wasting any time being born on that day. With Nolan, I was convinced I’d deliver him in the car. Luckily, we made it to the hospital in time. When I reached triage, my water broke on the table and I was at 10 cm dilated. It was go time. No time for medication or epidurals. According to my doula, I have precipitous labors, which means my labor & delivery lasts under 3 hours. This has its advantages but can be dangerous for mother and baby if you’re not prepared.

Because of this history, my doula said the moment contractions start to call her and get in the car once we reached 4-1-1 mark (4 minutes apart, each one lasts at least 1 minute, and they have been following this pattern for at least 1 hour) then drive to the hospital.

We got to the hospital at 12:34AM. I was in so much pain waddling and I barely made it to the door. When we got to the delivery floor, I felt intense pressure. I wasn’t sure if I needed to poop or puke. I tried the former in vain. That’s when the puking started. I was 6 cm at triage. They asked me if I want a birthing center room or a traditional delivery room. The birthing center doesn’t have the equipment for epidurals or labor supporting medications. I kept saying “I don’t know,” even though my plan was to deliver at the birthing center. But the pain/pressure was insane. I finally conceded to my original plan, I was delirious, barefoot in a pool of my vomit.

When we reached the birthing center room, I remember the room full of people. There were nurses bustling around ready for action. There was one nurse in particular trying without any success to get an IV in my arm in between contractions. I hate IVs, I have a bad history with them. I was standing there swaying back and forth trying to control my breathing and she was like an unwanted mosquito trying to secure a rubber band around my arm. At one point during my 30-second break from a contraction, she said she was going to have to try to get the IV into my hand during a contraction. That was when I said, “no sorry the baby is coming now.”

I’m not sure if I willed him to come that moment because of my fear of the IV insertion process or if it was just time.

I climbed on the bed and started to push on my hands and knees backwards (it just felt like the right position). I felt and sounded like a dying cave woman. I remember thinking, “I just want this to be over. I don’t want to do this anymore.” I started to panic. Everything was happening too fast. I couldn’t catch my breath. I wasn’t ready. In that moment, I felt my doula, Maya, rubbing my back and telling me to relax. I heard Ryan say, “I can see his head.” I knew this baby needed me to focus and get him out. I gave myself the best internal coaching. I’ve never been as nice to myself as I was in that moment. I said all the classic mantras, “You can do this. You must do this. It’s almost over. Just do it now. Do it right and it will be over so fast.” Then he was out.

I remember them telling me to reach between my legs (again I was on my hands and knees) and grab him to hold my hands like a quarterback reaching for a football. I thought it was the grossest moment, yet I wish I had a photo. It felt amazing to finally have him safely in my arms.

He was here. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t sleep. I’ll keep the gory details to myself. But every new mom remembers her first trip to the bathroom…graphic…am I right?

The next 24 hours were a blur of nurses pushing on my uterus asking blood clot questions and me waiting for “nutrition” to arrive with my next meal. I was nervous about attempting to breastfeed again after being unsuccessful with Nolan. Things seemed okay on that end. Then on the morning of our last day, this was proved untrue when we were asked to stay an extra day to monitor Austin’s low glucose levels due to malnutrition. You can watch my response to opting for formula instead of attempting to breastfeed Austin here.

It took us almost 24 hours to choose the name “Austin.” We agreed his middle name would be Samuel months before. Samuel comes from our friend Captain Samuel Schultz who tragically died in a helicopter accident one year prior. We decided on Austin after Googling “names that sound good with Nolan.” I’d like to add that I suggested Austin early in my pregnancy but Ryan vetoed it responding. “Kids will make fun of him for being named after a place.” In the hospital, it sounded right and it felt right looking into his big brown eyes.

Just like that, we had our Austin. The months following were some of my hardest yet most fortifying months. 10 days after Austin’s birth, Ryan deployed to Japan for 6 months. I endured sleep training, blow outs, my toddler turning 3, and discovering my favorite show “Madam Secretary.” It was an exhausting season but it truly grew me as a mom. I am so thankful for our Austin. He made me strong. He’s perfect for our family and his brother is crazy about him.

Photos by Kerry L Photography

Photos by Kerry L Photography

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