Gianna’s Birth Story

I’ll give you a bit of a teaser to start out, but this birth was WAY different than my son’s birth. If you haven’t already, read Owen’s birth story first!

My due date was June 25th, 2024. I went into labor with Owen at 40+5 so figured Gianna would come after my due date as well. (I also didn’t know if I was having a boy or girl this time, so had an extra surprise to look forward to!) On June 27, I woke up at 6 am with some cramping that felt similar to period cramps. It was already at the point where I would say it was uncomfortable, and borderline painful. I was breathing through the sensations, and then they would stop and I would try to go back to sleep. These sensations continued about every 10 minutes for the next hour and a half. At this point, I was pretty sure that labor was starting.

My mom was already planning on coming that day to hang out with Owen. I told her around 8 am to not rush over, but when she came she should just pick Owen up and take him back to her house. She picked him up sometime around 9 am, and when he left I knew that would be the last time that he would be my only baby. (My eyes are watering even typing this sentence.)  

Throughout the rest of the morning, the cramping turned into more of contractions. The contractions were intense enough that I was breathing through them, but in between contractions I was totally fine and could talk and go about my normal activities. The contractions were pretty close together, usually between 5-10 minutes apart. Cooper was the official contraction timer and was eyeing me down constantly to catch the start of each new contraction.

The contractions continued all morning. We kept wondering when we should go to the hospital. The app was telling us to go because of the closeness of the contractions, but I didn’t feel they were intense enough. It also felt like such a strange day, because it was just Cooper and me. We had no kids at home and no plans for the day. If you’re a parent, you know that days like that don’t happen.

Early afternoon came, and the contractions started to slow down. They would be every 10-15 minutes, and then got to the point of only having a couple contractions in an hour. Cooper and I went for a couple short walks to try to allow the contractions to pick up again, but it didn’t seem like it made a difference. We were sitting on the couch, watching TV and wondering what to do. We made the decision to start cleaning the house because, why not. We knew we would enjoy having a clean house to come home to if this did progress to active labor. I also did the Miles circuit during the afternoon to try to get contractions going again.

I also want to note that I lost my mucus plus this afternoon. I had been losing it over the past 4 days or so, but it increased in the amount significantly that afternoon and had some blood in it.

Around late afternoon, I started getting more intense contractions that were getting closer together. I had to sit down during contractions. If I was on my feet, the contractions would feel so much more painful. I was doing my destresser breath (thank you Built to Birth Youtube channel) which was getting me through the contractions. Cooper and I decided to eat dinner so we would not be starving if we had to leave soon. While eating dinner, the contractions picked up dramatically. They were now every 3-4 minutes and I was deep moaning through them (again, thank you Built to Birth breathing techniques). I was trying to take a bite of food in between the contractions. Once these contractions kept coming so close together and were so intense, it made the decision easy to know when to leave. Cooper said, “it’s time to go to the hospital now.” And I agreed.

The ride to the hospital was quite difficult. It was about 30 minutes away, and the contractions were 3-4 minutes apart. Any time I would tense up at all, like hearing a loud noise (like the motorcycle I could’ve choked with my bare hands- LOL, I’m not a violent person, but I could’ve been in that moment) or slamming on the brakes for a red light, made the contractions so much more intense.

We got to the hospital and I was wheeled up to triage. The midwife came in to check me, and said I was 4 cm dilated and 90% effaced. This was around 7 pm. I was a bit disappointed hearing this news, because I was 4 cm also when I got to the hospital with Owen’s birth and hadn’t even had painful contractions at that point. During this birth, I had been laboring for much longer. However, I knew from a lot of education and prep that dilation can change very quickly and is not an accurate predictor for when the baby will actually come.

I ended up laboring in the tiny triage room for 2 hours. They didn’t have a room on the L&D floor available, so I had to wait. I asked for a birth ball, which they gave me (however it was small enough that it might as well have been a basketball). It felt worse to sit that low, so I ended up laboring on the doctor’s rolling chair. The contractions were all-consuming. When each contraction started, I felt my body almost shaking like I was being overcome by a wave. I would forcefully do deep moaning and “horse-lips” breathing, and it took every ounce of strength that I had to not begin screaming and try to not jump out of my skin. Every contraction, I would force myself to actually visualize Jesus sitting in the room next to me, either sitting there or holding my hand. Each contraction required this intense concentration each time to ground myself and keep the wave of intensity from overpowering me.

There were certain positions I wanted to try on the bed as well as laboring in water to help with the pain. It was hard being in the triage room for so long and not being able to use those things. At this point, I felt like I was truly suffering and wanted some relief, especially because I didn’t know how long I would be stuck in the triage room. I talked to the midwife again and said that I wanted to start some IV fluids so that I could get an epidural once I got to my room. (They required me to get IV fluids prior to getting an epidural.) We started the fluids in the triage room. 

Finally, a nurse came to the triage room and brought me to my L&D room. We had the sweetest nurse, Becky, who was with us the whole labor. Soon after getting to the room, the CRNA came in and gave me the epidural. Within a few minutes, my contractions were pretty much unnoticeable. I can feel my body relax even typing that sentence. They made Cooper leave for a bit while I got the epidural (due to infection risk) and when he came back, he said that I looked like a brand new person.

My goal with my first birth and this birth was to not get an epidural. If you read my first birth story, you would know that wish certainly did not come true. With this birth, my true main goal was to have a VBAC. I know with some people, an epidural will slow down contractions, slow down labor, and ultimately increase the chance of a C-section. However for some people, an epidural can allow their bodies to relax and open, and can be helpful for labor progress. For me, after going through hours of intense contractions, especially while struggling immensely in the triage room for 2 hours, it felt right for me to ask for some help with the epidural. My extremely difficult and traumatic first birth experience also influenced that decision.

I ended up getting the epidural around 10:30 pm on June 27. We hung out in the room with Becky for a couple hours, feeling great. Per the monitor, my contractions were staying strong and very consistent on their own, so I didn’t need any Pitocin to keep the contractions going.

Around midnight, I felt something and told Becky that I think I had peed. She looked and said that it definitely wasn’t pee, that my water had broken! Shortly after my water breaking, I started feeling contractions again. Definitely not as intense as before having the epidural, but enough that I was breathing through them. We started doing some different positions, like lying on my side and using the peanut ball.

Although I had the epidural, I could still feel my legs and could move around and push myself up. My legs felt tingly, but I had really good sensation. I honestly felt like I could’ve walked.

As I was lying on my side, I started to really feel some pressure along with the contractions. Pressure like a bowling ball needs to come out of your butt. If you’ve had a baby, you know what I mean LOL. This pressure intensified over the next hour or so. Becky alerted the midwife to come check on me sometime soon. Around 2 am, the midwife came in. She went to check me, and immediately goes “baby is 2+, it’s time to push!” She also told me that the baby was already farther along than Owen ever was during my first birth. What a great feeling filled with so much hope.

I ended up pushing for about 45 minutes. The midwife would say, “wait until you can’t fight the urge anymore, and then push”. Pushing during this birth was an intensity that I had never experienced before. It was such hard work in every way. Between pushing, the midwife would use a wet warm cloth to put on my perineum to encourage stretching. Such a thoughtful touch that I didn’t ask for, but really let me know that she cared.

The nurse and midwife kept telling me that they could see the head, but I never knew if they were just trying to encourage me or were telling the truth that I was close to being done. After 45 minutes and on the final push, I could feel the midwife’s hands moving around down there and I had no idea what was happening. Next thing I know, she pulls out the baby and places her right on my chest on June 28th, 2024 at 2:45 am. Wow. What a feeling and moment that I will never ever forget.

I had a small first-degree tear, but did not need to have stitches. Such a blessing. I’m sure the warm washcloths certainly helped.

Then Cooper goes, “it’s a… boy?” with a very uncertain tone. I looked around somewhat confused, looking for confirmation. The nurse said to try again, and said that it was a girl! During most of the pregnancy, I was certain it was a girl. I would’ve been shocked if she ended up being a boy. In that moment with the baby being laid on my chest, I truly didn’t care one bit whether she was a boy or girl. I think I could’ve happily gone hours without even knowing.

Per my request, the midwife waited until the umbilical cord stopped pulsating before cutting the cord. After the birth, the midwife said that I was bleeding a good amount and wanted to get the placenta out. I was in newborn shock lalaland, and did not feel concerned at all. The last thing I wanted to do was push more. She was asking me to push to try to get the placenta out, and I gave a couple (half-hearted, admittedly) pushes. After a bit, the placenta came out. The midwife pieced the placenta together and was very concerned that a part had ripped off and was left inside of me. She was worried that a piece of retained placenta was continuing to cause all the bleeding. She asked for anesthesia to come back and give me an extra bit of the epidural so that she could feel around for the retained placenta. At this point, I had just gone through one of the most intense experiences of my life, and I just wanted it to be over. The last thing I wanted was to have the midwife insert her whole hand inside of me and feel around.

I asked if she could do an ultrasound to look for the missing piece, and she did. She couldn’t see anything on the ultrasound, but she felt it was very necessary for her to investigate. She used her whole hand to feel for any retained placenta, and said that nothing was there. As you can imagine, that was an intense sensation that I would be glad to never experience again. Afterwards, she flipped the placenta a different way and said that she could actually see that the whole placenta was there. It was not a pleasant experience, but thankfully was less than a minute. I also had a baby laying on my chest, which certainly helped.

I remember them giving me a couple medications to help stop the bleeding. I also heard the midwife tell the nurse to start an IV antibiotic. I was very much hoping to avoid any antibiotics with this birth, so asked why she was requesting that I receive them. The midwife said that they give antibiotics preventively whenever they have to do an internal procedure like I had just had done. I said that I didn’t want the antibiotics. Surprisingly, the midwife told me that the research shows that there’s no significant difference in outcome whether you do or do not receive antibiotics after this procedure. I was so happy that I asked questions and stood up for my wishes in this moment, and also want to show that you can decline any medical recommendation. It’s important to ask questions and stand up for what you do or do not want to have done to you.

Overall, I would describe this birth experience as redemptive, empowering, transformative, and beautiful. I will say however, that right after Gianna was born, I told Cooper that I will never do this again. LOL. I prayed so hard throughout this pregnancy for a VBAC, and those prayers were answered. Even weeks and months later, I still think about this experience and will thank God for this gift He has given me. Gianna’s life has been such a blessing and we are beyond grateful to have her in our family.