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Rooney Bea: A Birth Story

There is a power that comes to women when they give birth. They don’t ask for it, it simply invades them. Accumulates like clouds in the horizon and passes through, carrying the child with it.
— Sheryl Feldman

I’m a little late to the birth story game, but cut me some slack… I’ve got a newborn at home.

We welcomed Rooney Bea into the world on a seasonally warm February 2nd at 2:03 in the afternoon. She was 9 pounds and 12 ounces of pure chunk and 21.75 inches long. She beat out her other two siblings in weight and length.

Rooney is our third child. We have Emmalynn (7) and Guthrie (3). I just knew that after we brought Guthrie home from the hospital that he would not be our last baby. My sister and I are two years and a week apart. I really wanted Guthrie to have a sibling closer in age, as he and Emmalynn are a little over four years apart. However, that’s not how it happened. We tried for months and months to get pregnant again. It was starting to get really depressing for me. Everyone was announcing their pregnancies and it just wasn’t happening for me. I didn’t want to complain or say anything about it though, because I had two other children and people would say things like “you should be thankful for what you have.”

In March 2018, I had a colonoscopy scheduled. I’ve had colon issues since I was a kid, but that’s another story for another day. I ended up taking a pregnancy test a few days before the procedure and was thrilled to get a faint line (POSITIVE!). I excitedly called my gastroenterologist to cancel my appointment. Two days later, I started my period. I was so upset. It brought back all of the awful memories I had about the miscarriage I’d had in 2014. I called my ob/gyn in tears and explained the situation. She said it sounded like a "chemical pregnancy” and since we’d been trying to get pregnant for over a year she had me come in for an SIS ultrasound.

During this ultrasound they had to flush out my ovaries all while watching it on the screen. I wasn’t prepared for how uncomfortable that would be or the cramping I’d feel after. Everything came back “normal.” My doctor didn’t see any physical reasons as to why I wasn’t getting pregnant. Her best guess was that my hormones were still out of whack from 2+ years of extended breastfeeding Guthrie (I’d just weaned him a month prior). She told me to go home, continue to track my ovulation monthly, and keep trying, and that she wanted to see me again in 2 months. She joked as I was leaving that many women tend to wind up pregnant the next cycle after that ultrasound. Well, I didn’t get pregnant the next cycle, but I DID get pregnant the cycle after that. On May 23, 2018 I found out that I was pregnant. Yay!

FLASH FORWARD

On February 2, 2019 I woke up at 4:45 in the morning to shower and pack some clothes into a bag. Alex and I left for the hospital in preparation for a scheduled induction, as I’d been leaking fluid for the past 6 days. We got settled in, IV therapy came and got my IV set up (because my veins suck), and around 7:30am they started a very small dose of pitocin.

I was having small, spread out contractions but nothing very significant. Alex and I were both bored so we wasted time by watching the Groundhog Day coverage. I can honestly say that is the first time that I have ever watched that.

My nurse came in to check me and I was still only dilated four centimeters (which I’d been that way for over 10 days), so they upped the pitocin. They also brought in this giant peanut shaped pillow to put between my legs. They wanted me to lay on my side and then to roll over and lay on the other side. As I was rolling over, my water broke. That seemed to speed things up and I started having stronger contractions, but was still feeling okay. I wanted to get up and walk. I almost instantly regretted that decision. My nurse brought me a birthing ball to sit and bounce on. Within minutes my contractions were extremely intense.

Between the contractions I told my nurse (who was amazing, by the way) that I was ready for an epidural. By the time the anesthesiologist arrived, I was screaming. It felt like I was getting hit by a semi truck over and over. I was drenched in sweat, shaking, and terrified that I’d waited too long to ask for the epidural. You could tell that the anesthesiologist felt awkward. He seemed annoyed, which just annoyed me. He told me to hold the pillow, lean forward, and hold completely still. Let me just tell you that when you are having extremely intense contractions, that’s almost impossible. I felt the first needle that is supposed to numb the area before the giant needle goes in. Well, the numbing one didn’t work, so as he’s sticking the giant needle in I start screaming “take it out. I can feel everything.” Oh em gee, that was awful. He gave me a minute to calm down and tried again. The second one took, and he apparently drugged me heavily (it took forever to wear off). He says to the nurse, “I guarantee she’s about ready to push.”

Sure enough, as soon as he left and she check, I was at a 10. I went from a 4 to a 10 in about 30 minutes (yikes!). This sent me into more terror because I was still in extreme pain and freaking out that the epidural wasn’t going to work in time. It took about 45 minutes but the epidural finally kicked in and I told them that I was ready to push. It only took a few pushes, and then she was here and having her in my arms made up for the intensity of the last hour.

She’s perfect and I’m absolutely in love. Be prepared for many more photos and updates on here.