Little Roo on his first hike. Strapped into the Baby Bjorn and taking in the scenery.
Does he look content or what?
Stay tuned for a post about the hike…
Happy one-month-day Little Roo!
If you missed part one of the story, read it here.
Doctor P came in to see how dilated I was. She looked puzzled… surprised even. Her exact words to us were,”I don’t think that’s a head!”
My heart sank.
The nurse brought in an ultrasound machine and the image confirmed it – Little Roo was breech!
At that point I just started crying. It had been going so well. I didn’t think my attempt at a VBAC would end for this of all reasons! I mean, why didn’t they know he was breech before? I’m certain he flipped at some point in the few weeks prior but no one ever caught it – not even me. I even remembered another doctor commenting on feeling his head at my 36 week appointment. Heck, the nurse even checked me earlier that morning and didn’t notice it.
Regardless of when it happened, there was no sense sitting around to labor any longer- a repeat cesarean was in my near future.
I looked at the clock. It was getting close to 7:00 and I knew Big Roo would be awake or close to it. I asked the doctor and nurses if we could wait a minute so we could call Big Roo. I knew it would be scary for him to wake up and us not be there so I wanted to reassure him we were okay and were coming back.
I texted my friend and he wasn’t awake yet. A few minutes later though I called and sure enough he was awake.
Poor thing was bawling. I could distinguish this cry from the his usual “I don’t wanna go to bed” or “I just got a boo boo” cries. It was a frightened cry and it shattered my heart in a zillion pieces. He was under a table in his room crying and shying away from my friend, who he knows a “G’s mom.”
She put me on speakerphone. I told him it was mama. That we were at the hospital with the baby and I knew he was scared. I explained that G’s mom would take him to daycare so he could play with his friends. He kept crying and by this time so was I. I talked through my own bawling to tell him it’s okay and that I love him. I hung up and cried even harder. Daddy Roo’s eyes watered as he stroked my hair. This sure wasn’t easy.
Luckily, I got a text a few minutes later saying that he was doing fine now. It gave me the peace I needed, even if she was just saying that (I found out later he really WAS just fine and had a great time with her that morning).
Time to have this baby!
Daddy Roo changed into scrubs and unlike three years ago, I snapped a shot of him this time.
I got wheeled down the hall to the operating room. The nurses were so awesome as we prepped for surgery. It took a while to test my numbness and prep everything. The epidural was making me shake and the nurse commented on how freezing my hands were. Luckily the shaking never got as bad as with Big Roo.
Daddy Roo came in and say down beside me. He was so sweet and attentive, stroking my hair and grabbing my hand for support.
After upping my epi a few times (I could feel little pinches during their “tests”), it was time to start. I could feel tugging and pulling here and there but Elizabeth, the awesome nurse anesthetist, stayed by my head and told me what they were doing at each stage. Daddy Roo was on the other side of my head asking how I was doing.
When it came time to bring Little Roo into the world, I felt immense pressure and pulling. The suddenly, they held him up over the blue sheet and we met him for the first time- covered in blood, all scrunched up and absolutely gorgeous!
I cried out of pure happiness and then I heard him cry. Daddy Roo cried too. Our second son was finally here… on Big Roo’s birthday no less! Daddy Roo went over to watch the baby get his Apgar scores and took some pics to bring back to me.
While I couldn’t hold him until later, they brought him to Daddy Roo to hold once he was cleaned up. He took his son gently into his arms and laid him beside me so that our faces were inches apart.
I stroked his hair and face, admiring our new son. At one point, he reached out and wrapped his tiny hand around my finger. I couldn’t get the best look since the blankets that wrapped him up slightly covered his face. But I could see that his nose was just like Big Roo’s… that he had those steel blue newborn eyes… and a head full of dark hair just like his brother.
After I left recovery, I finally held him. He sunk into my arms like he had done it a thousand times. Tears streamed down my face.
Two boys. One birthday. Three years apart. Absolutely perfect.
Well, Little Roo is a little over a week old now and I’m finally getting some time to post part one of his birth story. If you see any parts that read something like cvfkasrjgrfkjglaj, that just means I fell asleep while typing this due to exhaustion.
His story has to start with a little background on Big Roo’s birth. With Big Roo, I labored for 12 hours before ending up with a C-section. Recovery was horrible. I was floored how difficult it was on me, especially since I was healthy and in shape. At first I felt cheated since I never got to push him into this world but I got over it. Just because I had a C didn’t mean I didn’t BIRTH him. It’s ludicrous to think otherwise. But the recovery haunted me so much that this go around, I was determined to attempt a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean).
Well, determined may not be the perfect word. I flip-flopped through most of the pregnancy but never let them take “VBAC” off my chart. Certain phrases like “uterine rupture” scared me but I was also annoyed how few doctors let women attempt VBACs. Around 30 weeks, I made up my mind for good. I’d done the research, weighed the options and talked to my OB doctors. The doctors supported me. Daddy Roo supported me too. So VBAC attempt it would be.
Fast forward to Monday, February 22. For some reason, I was full of productivity that day. I’d gotten lots done at work. I talked with my friend about the details surrounding what she dubbed “Operation Big Roo” – aka the plan for when I go into labor and she comes to the house to take care of Big Roo. I even asked daycare for a permission form for her to pick him up if need be.
That night, I had a hard time getting to sleep, which is unlike me. I attributed it to being Big Roo’s birthday the next day. For the month of February, I had a list of dates I hoped Little Roo wouldn’t be born. I mentally checked them off with a sigh of relief as they passed…
… my baby shower… Big Roo’s 3 year photo shoot (and maternity pics too)… Valentine’s Day… Big Roo’s birthday party…
I had a few more don’t-come-on-this-date dates left to go: Big Roo’s third birthday 2/23), my niece’s birthday (2/26) and Big Roo’s sibling tour at the hospital (2/27, which had been rescheduled from 2/13 due to snow) but Big Roo’s birthday was the big one.
Life has a funny way of working out.
On February 23rd around 3:30 a.m., I woke up to a dull crampy feeling. And like every night for the past few months, I had to pee. I heaved my belly over to the edge of the bed and sat up.
Then I felt it.
My… water… just… broke.
At first, I was in denial that it was actually my water. Maybe I just really had to pee? But deep down I knew. With a laugh, I said, “you’ve gotta be kidding me.” I knew Little Roo was going to share a birthday with his big brother!
Daddy Roo was quickly up and alert, despite being up until 2 am working on a work project. After calling the doc, I called my friend from Follow Linus to start “Operation Big Roo,” which consisted of being at the house when Big Roo woke up and getting him fed, clothed and off to daycare. My contractions picked up and by the time she arrived they were about 2 minutes apart and starting to get painful.
We got to the hospital around 4:30 a.m. and the contractions were getting stronger. From about 4:30 until 6:30 I labored and got up to an impressive 5 cm. The contractions were REALLY starting to suck but Daddy Roo was helping me through- holding my hand, reminding me to breathe, all the right stuff your “support partner” is supposed to do. At this point I was ready for the epidural but feeling blissful at the same time. I said to Daddy Roo, “Can you believe how great this is going so far? Maybe I’ll get a VBAC after all!”
I then got my much-wanted epidural. I remember how much the needle stung last time but this time I hardly felt a thing… well, except for the contraction pain slowly dissolving with each one. Aaahhhh. After that set in, the doctor came and checked me.
And then, not 20 minutes after my optimistic proclamation, it all changed.