The Story of Dallas Jane

September 26, 2020. 4:35am

I woke up to in the middle of a contraction. I thought nothing of it at first, since I’d been having prodromal labor (contractions that don’t progress) for weeks. I'd never woken up because of one, but having random contractions in the middle of the night wasn't foreign. Sure, I was 90% effaced and 1cm dilated as of yesterday morning, but this isn't real. I'm two weeks until the due date. It's also my mom's birthday and the good Lord and I had a conversation about not sharing Dallas' birthday with my mom.

Roughly ten minutes had passed with no activity and I started to fall asleep. Then another one came. As I reached the peak, I noticed I had been curling my toes through the pain. Then it fizzled away. I was still in denial. "Let's just see if that happens again," I thought. Time passed, again another 10 minutes or so, before I felt another one. My toes curled again. "Okay, this is a little annoying but this isn't real," I thought as I reluctantly opened my contraction timer app and waited for the next one. Sure enough, another one came 10 minutes later and a little stronger. I sat up figuring that change in position might make them go away. Dallas could have been in a weird position, irritating my uterus. The intensity lessened when I sat up, which made me think it truly wasn’t labor, but I still had another contraction. I laid back down and another one came, more intense, 7 minutes apart now.

Nearly an hour had passed at this point and I was super annoyed. I snuck downstairs and started bouncing on my ball. The intensity of the contractions lessened, so I stopped tracking them. And I should not have done that.

I paced the living room, talking to God about how He was oh so funny for doing this on my mom's birthday when we clearly discussed having Dallas any other day. Could have been yesterday. Could have been tomorrow. But no. Had to be today. And as the saying goes, "Make a plan and God laughs."

Things didn't seem to change as I walked in a circle in our living room, so I sat down on the couch to rest, still thinking this was all stupid and still partially in denial that I was in true labor. As soon as my head hit the throw pillow on the couch, another one came, more intense. Nope, not doing that. Sitting up or walking around were the only things that helped lessen the contractions. I also had no bloody show or signs of water leaking, and I was so sure at least one of those two things would happen before I went into labor.

It was almost 6am now and I decided to text my doula. I also texted a good friend of mine, asking if this was real. After having four kids, I'd say she was a pro at this whole labor thing. By the time my doula responded, it was almost 6:30am. Note to self: call your doula. She told me to drink magnesium and rest, as it was most likely prodromal labor due to uterine irritation from my cervical check the day before. My friend didn't agree. She FaceTimed me and asked all the questions. Bloody show? Discharge? Water leaking? How far apart are the contractions? Pff I didn't know, I wasn't keeping track anymore. The last time I had checked, my contractions went from 10 minutes to 7 minutes for two contractions, then 5 minutes. Why did I stop tracking? Good freaking question.

Well we were talking for a bit (remember it's after 6:30am, two hours after this all started) and I suddenly stopped talking. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and tried not to focus on the pain.

"Girl, that was a real contraction. You couldn't talk through it." Yeah, I accept that now. This is labor. We talked a little more before I fell silent and turned inward, focusing on my breathing.

"Okay, those were two minutes apart!" my friend stated once my contraction ended. "Where's Michael?"

"He's sleeping."

"Well wake him up! I'll come get B. Get dressed and grab your bag."

I went upstairs, shook Michael a bit and said “Hey, it's time to get up.” He knew immediately. He got dressed quickly and I went downstairs to take a shower. I needed to shave my legs. I battled two contractions in that time. My friend called me a little later saying she was on her way. She asked what I was doing. “Putting on mascara…” Clearly my priorities were straight. Somewhere in between all of this, I texted my doula again that contractions were two minutes apart now and we were headed to the hospital.

My friend came, took Brooklyn, and we headed to the hospital. It was 7:30am. The hospital was about 25 minutes away. Thank God it was a Saturday morning and no construction was being done on I-66, otherwise the commute would have been over an hour. We arrived a little after 8am. As soon as I walked through the doors with a mask on (remember this was during Covid), I had the strongest contraction yet. The nurse at the check-in table asked the reason for our visit just as I bent over, hands on my knees, embracing the pain. A wave of emotions hit me as I held back tears of overwhelming joy. I made it here, in active labor for the first time, about to have a vaginal birth after a c-section. We would soon meet our baby girl.

I heard another nurse say “Oh Lord, she needs to go to level four. We don’t need no babies delivered in the lobby.” Yup, this was real.

Triage was a bit of a nightmare for me. Too many nurses were in my ear, demanding cervical checks, blood pressure, fetal monitoring, etc. I just wanted to keep moving. Laying down made the contractions more painful. I didn’t care how dilated I was. My contractions were 1.5-2 minutes apart. But the nurses had to check in order to determine if I was in active labor before admitting me. You’d think by the frequency and intensity of my contractions that would be obvious. So I had the check. It was awful. The first nurse was having trouble checking me, so another nurse came in to find that I was 100% effaced

and 5cm dilated. I wanted to get up. Laying down during contractions was not easy. But then I had to get a covid test...in the middle of a contraction. Once I was able to get up and move around again, I was so out of focus and having trouble breathing through the pain. I wanted the epidural. My water started to break, but not completely. The only thing holding me back from moving to Labor & Delivery at this point was the covid test. Once that came back negative (two hours later), they moved me to L&D with the anesthesiologist waiting.

I could go into detail about my L&D nurse and how I should have asked for someone else, but that's a story for another time. I had my epidural during a contraction, which unfortunately failed the safety test by the anesthesiologist. He had to do it again. As soon as the medication went through my system, I felt my water break completely. They laid me down on the bed and a shooting pain went up my spine to the back of my head. This pain didn't go away until after Dallas was born. Spinal headache. I suffered with spinal headaches for a week just a couple of days after bringing Dallas home. I didn't realize what it was until day five, at which point I told Michael if I had one more, I'd go to the hospital. I didn't have one again after that.

When they laid me down after the epidural, it was roughly 10:30am. So far I was six hours in and 6cm dilated. The epidural really slowed things down because it wasn't until 5:15pm that I was 10cm dilated and ready to push. Pushing when you're numb from the waist down was weird. I hoped I was doing it right because I couldn't feel anything. The nurses kept asking if I wanted a mirror. Nope! They also asked a couple of times if I wanted to reach and feel her head coming out. Double nope! At 6:09pm, Dallas Jane entered the world. Michael said it was crazy to watch. He cut the cord and I did skin to skin with her. She weighed 7lb 8oz and was 21” long. It wasn't until then that I realized I just had my VBAC. The thought of another c-section didn't even cross my mind because I was so distracted by contractions, then headaches.The midwife who delivered Dallas

said it was a good thing I had her early, otherwise I wouldn’t have fit a bigger baby through my pelvis. *insert eye roll*

The VBAC battle I had with my provider is also another story to tell for another time. One thing I do want to say is that once Dallas was born, and I held her in my arms, staring at her blue eyes (I knew they were blue the moment I saw them), I had no emotional attachment to her. This sounds strange but I think it's important to share. I pictured Dallas looking so much like Brooklyn when Brooklyn was born. And Dallas was anything but Brooklyn, both in features and personality. There was nothing wrong with her. And I wasn't a terrible mother for not feeling bonded to her immediately. In fact, I didn't have the emotional bond until a couple of weeks later. I loved her and I took care of her, but I think I was so used to Brooklyn's attachment to me and her ability to express that love freely that sitting there with a baby who doesn't do much but sleep, stare, and occasionally cry couldn't give me that same emotional connection. And that's okay.

I think us moms put too much pressure on ourselves because of what the world tells us is appropriate or "normal". This is normal. So is an immediate bond. Having guilt and emotional trauma after a c-section is normal. Not having guilt or emotional trauma after a c-section is also normal. So in the off-chance that whoever reads this has questioned the bonding stage with their newborn, or had trouble accepting their c-section even a year later, just know you're not alone.

So there’s my quick rundown of giving birth to our second sweet baby girl ♥️