Here, Can You Hold This? The Story of My Second Child's Birth

Courage doesn't always roar; sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, I will try again tomorrow.

I've talked about my sweet daughter Emma (2 years), but I want to write about the birth of my second daughter, Ella (almost 6 weeks). Her labor and delivery was so very different from Emma's. It really is true that no two pregnancies are the same.

I was miserable with Ella almost from the get go. Migraine headaches that lasted six weeks, no appetite for five months, and I only gained twenty pounds with Ella (I gained 45 with Emma). Not to mention that I had a toddler during this pregnancy. Talk about tired. Compared to Ella, Emma's pregnancy was a piece of cake. Mmmm - cake.

My labor with Ella began the day before Easter Sunday. I was very uncomfortable that Saturday, and I kept feeling all this lower back pain and pressure. I was also very restless - I could not sit still for too long. By midnight Saturday, I was in real labor. Contractions were about ten minutes apart and were really uncomfortable. Now let me just say that I did not go into labor with Emma - my water broke, they induced me, I had like three contractions, and they gave me an epidural. I pushed her out, and the next day we went home. Not so with Ella.

Anyway, by 8 the next morning, I couldn't walk through the contractions. So I called my midwife, and her response was "Not until your contractions are five minutes apart." You have got to be kidding me. I was in some serious pain, but she told me to just take a warm bath. So I did. And it did feel nice. While I was in the bath. Too bad I couldn't live in the bathtub - now wouldn't that be great. Baths are great for stressful days - I've been in mine since Monday.

At ten in the morning we went to our neighbor's, Paul and Deb's, to give their grandson Peyton his Easter gift. At that point I could neither walk nor talk through the contractions. At ten fifteen, they began to get to five minutes apart. Paul and Deb's son, Josh, who's girlfriend is expecting, was also there. I could smell his fear. It was the only thing that kept me going: Seeing a man who might actually be more scared than I was.

Fast forward to the hospital (after all, we've all pretty much been through the ride to the hospital - lots of swears as your husband does the speed limit. Just out for another Sunday drive: I could have killed him, he was so damn calm). My contractions were on top of each other by now, and it was all I could do not to scream. I remained a lady the whole time. I only said "Ungrateful son of a biscuit loving bastard" one time (I'll tell the story about that line another time).

Epidural time: I had asked the nurse for an epidural upon entering the hospital (I actually asked my midwife for one when I found out I was pregnant, but they make you wait until you are in labor. What a dumb rule.) So this nice little nurse goes about getting my IV in - three tries later, she finally asked someone else to do the IV. I had the bruise on my arm for almost three weeks. People kept asking what happened. I told the my husband beats me. Boy he hates it when I do that! Ha Ha. - I asked when I could get my epidural please. When the IV was in - THEN GET THE DANG THING IN!!! Finally, I could have my epidural. I only said two swears that time, and I felt terrible because one was the F word. On Easter Sunday. I know. I'm going to Hell. I apologized to God and Jesus right away, but I'm sure there is a special punishment for people who swear on Easter (and Christmas day too). Did you know that an epidural kind of makes you high? I felt GREAT.

Well, it turns out that the reason I was in so much pain is that my contractions were coupling - in layman's terms: I was having two contractions at once. Ouch. The labor was terrible - the delivery was beautiful. As I was pushing Ella out, my midwife was wearing goggles, so I was able to see her being born. When Ella was out about to her chest, Sharron (my midwife) said, "Okay Laura, take her." What? Take her? So, I'm thinking she needed me to hold Ella for a second while she tended to something else down there. That seriously was what went through my mind. It turns out she wanted me to actually hold Ella. So I did. And then Sharron said, "Okay, go ahead and pull her the rest of the way out." And I did. It was the single most amazing thing I have ever done. I helped deliver my second child.

Now all I want to know is, do I get a discount on my doctor bill?