My second labor was so entirely different than my first time delivering.
Two weeks into a global pandemic, my anxiety was high and I had no clue what to expect. I didn’t know what having two kids would be like, I didn’t know how my second labor would go, and I certainly didn’t know what the year ahead would entail.
But on March 30, 2020, things started. I woke up that morning and knew that labor was a short ways away. After 2 years of being a parent, I can’t confidently say that I had that motherly feeling of *just knowing* something until that morning. When I woke up that day, it literally hurt to take my first step out of bed. Though not regular ones, I was having contractions, and it was taking a LOT of effort to do minor tasks around the house. I was just generally uncomfortable, in pain, and knew something big was coming.
I was also slightly salty, to be honest, because I had been planning to film the Baby Mama Dance that day! But it hurt so much to even walk, I didn’t have it in me to complete the Shay Mitchell inspired dance I had planned. So that’s on my to-do list for my next pregnancy!
But anyways, I went about my day as normal as I possibly could. For a distraction, I showered and washed my hair. I attended a meeting or two for work. Between our toddler and housework, I keep myself busy. I got in a very last 39-week photo for my biweekly pregnancy transformation collage, and I even snapped a few outfits in between contractions.
By 11:00 pm, I was in so much pain and contracting frequently enough that I made “the call”.
Part 1 of the call was to my bff to have her come over and watch Christian, and part 2 was to the hospital to let them know we were on the way.
We arrived and had the usual checks and monitoring before being admitted. They took my vitals, monitored my contractions, and checked my dilation. At my 39 week appointment, I still only measured 1cm, but I was convinced that there must have been some progress based on how I was feeling.
I was wrong. I was contracting in bed and holding the railing for support, but somehow I was still only 1cm dilated. And with that came the direction to walk the hospital halls for an hour. So from 11:30 pm to 12:30 am, Jordan and I walked slowly, hand in hand, back and forth and back and forth, up and down the hallways of Labor & Delivery. It was quiet and understandably so. We didn’t hear many other patients or much of anything. At the beginning of the pandemic, it was eerie to be in that setting at all.
A contraction wave would hit me and I had to stop to hold onto the wall or lean on the nearest counter to get through it.
It felt like the longest hour of my life at that time.
But it also felt like time was purposely pausing to give us the chance to soak up that moment in our lives one last time. We knew that our hours as a family of three were coming to a close, and sometime in the near future life would look very different. Little did we know, that would actually be one of the very last times Jordan and I were alone as a couple, just us, with no kids nearby.
Jordan and I talked about Christian and how excited we were to see him as a big brother. We reminisced on our lives in California thus far and how much had changed since the last time we were in that L&D wing 2 years prior. We prepared ourselves for Arlo and wondered what the delivery would be like and what he would look like and act like.
After an hour of walking the halls, we checked again. To my surprise, and horror, I had only progressed to a 2cm. 2. Freaking. Centimeters.
So, they sent us home to rest and charge up. According to my discharge papers, we walked out the door at 1:33 am. As I’ll get to shortly – my son was born 4 hours later. Needless to say, this second labor taught me to trust my gut on when the baby would be coming!
Arriving home, I felt defeated, confused, and still in pain.
I spent the next several hours laying on the couch with my husband, trying to sleep through contractions, because I didn’t feel like I could walk up the stairs to make it to our room. I hugged pillows, I squeezed his hands, and I moaned like some type of animal in the water. It was tough, but I was able to get some rest in between contractions.
Around 4:30 am, the pain became so intense that I thought we should call the hospital again. My husband called: “My wife is having contractions every 3 – 4 mins and she’s unable to talk through them at all.” They told him, “Okay, get here right now.” And with that, we sped back off to the hospital!
The car ride to the hospital was insane.
I swear, I remember my husband going at least 200 mph and we were basically in Too Fast Too Furious, speeding through red lights and whipping through oncoming traffic like the drag racers we are.
In reality, he was going the speed limit and I was holding onto the handles of the door, straightening my back out because I could no longer even sit in my seat.
Funny story: I was arching my back and standing up in the car so much that I kept accidentally leaning against the Tile on my keychain. Every time I hit the Tile, my phone would ring. So it was repeatedly ringing at full volume throughout this wild drive. It was the most infuriating thing and in the heat of the moment – I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from or how to get it to stop! Now, I look back and laugh at how chaotic that was. But when you’re about to go into your second labor and have an accidental car baby it is not funny (still kind of funny!)
So, we arrived at the hospital at 5:14 am and were quickly rushed upstairs.
As I was being pushed in the wheelchair, I once again couldn’t even sit down in it fully! The amount of pressure I felt and pain *down there* made the idea of sitting down damn near impossible. I overheard the nurse, who was pushing me, call into someone and say “yep, we have a one-cheeker. She can’t even sit down” I later found out that that’s what they call those of us who only can stand one buttcheek on the seat!
My water broke in the wheelchair in the elevator on the way up to L&D. We rushed in and they didn’t even formally admit me, they just ran me straight to a delivery room and plopped me in the delivery bed. I didn’t have time to change into a gown or anything! They stripped down my bottoms, left my tank top on, and got everything ready. When my bottoms came off, so did the mucus plug that I had also apparently lost in the elevator.
One of the nurses said she was going to check to see if I was dilated, and she quickly said, “Okay, you’re at 10cm. No time for an epidural. We have to get the doctor in here.”
I said, “I’m sorry, WHAT? NO EPIDURAL?!”
I would later tell Jordan how strong I felt after that moment, though he was quick to remind me that it was in that moment that I told them that I couldn’t do it. But we can do hard things! This was my second labor, and I could handle it.
After she checked me, the nurse kept her hand inside. She said she wanted to wait for the doctor to arrive to make sure everything was okay. But later I found out she was helping hold the baby in!
The doctor made it into the room, and I gave two giant pushes to deliver my beautiful baby boy. He was born at 5:29 am, 4 minutes after they laid me on the hospital bed and 15 mins after we arrived at the hospital.
Arlo has been the most precious, stubborn, steadfast, vocal, and resilient little boy through the entirety of his existence. His conception came quicker than we expected, his birth certainly was fast and furious, and his personality is strong-willed. He knows what he wants! He’s my pandemic baby. My bright light of 2020, and the shining star that makes us remember that year fondly. He’s the cause of me knowing just exactly how strong I am, both physically and mentally. Even when I don’t know it. I am so thankful for this second labor experience and so grateful to be his mommy, today and every day.
