After a false alarm the Sunday before, I found myself on a Thursday night, feeling depressed. My doula was going to be out of town on Saturday so I had officially one more day left to get this baby out if I wanted my doula to be at the birth. I sighed dramatically to myself all over the house that night, before resolving that even if the baby decided to come 10 days late (like Sloane did), there was nothing that I could do about it but wait and learn my lesson in being patient.
Around 9:10 PM, as I was getting ready for bed, I felt something like a contraction and then it happened again about 20 minutes later. I wasn't sure if it was a contraction because I had been feeling a lot of pressure on my back and on my pelvis throughout the day, and I guessed it might be just more of that. After a few more sporadic ones, I started having what felt like regular contractions around 11PM - every 12 minutes or so. I tried my best to fall asleep but I felt wired and hungry. After tossing and turning, and counting contractions and then wondering if it really was a contraction, I went downstairs and made myself a sweet potato, bacon and green onion hash with a fried egg on top and siracha sauce all over it. It was 1 AM at this time, and I washed the food down with some watermelon and grapefruit agua fresca and ate two cherries while watching the Nina Simone documentary on Netflix (FYI, it's really good). I climbed back into bed around 2AM and eventually fell asleep. I woke up around 5:30 AM (every day that week!) but was able to fall back asleep until about 7AM when I woke up and felt contractions happening every 20 minutes or so. I started to keep closer track of the contractions and found they were happening every 6-7 minutes, but the intensity level was moderate. I made myself, Sloane and Ken's mom the same dish I had eaten the night before, toasted some bagels, and then logged into work. I was planning on working that day, but I was so distracted by the contractions that I couldn't concentrate and told work that I would take off that day. I also (it gets graphic here....) noticed blood and what I guessed was mucous plug in the toilet when I went to the bathroom, so that seemed like progress.
By 11:00 AM, the contractions were still about 6-7 minutes but had gotten significantly more intense. I had been texting with Taylor (my doula) to give her updates and by 11:30 AM, I made the call to go into the hospital. In between contractions I felt fine and felt like I could wait longer but then I had a few that were so intense and the pressure on my back was so strong it felt like the baby was going to come out of my back that very instant. There was some delay due to one of Ken's friends stopping by (!!) but by noon we were on the road and we got to the hospital around 12:15 PM.
We got settled in our birthing room, I breathed through the contractions (which felt like they were all in my back), I got in the tub, and two hours after we arrived at the hospital, Logan was born. There was a lot that was different about this labor than with my first - different hospital, daytime as opposed to the middle of the night, different midwife, harder contractions, much shorter pushing time, and sitting on a birthing stool as opposed to sitting on the bed - but there were a lot of similar things too. Both Ken and Taylor were there with me, providing incredible support, and there were points where I truly felt like I wasn't going to be able to do it, but lo and behold, I did do it. As soon as Logan was out and I held her in my arms, waves of love and relief washed over me. And then my next thoughts were immediately went to all the women who have done this before and how incredible they all are for going through this. I felt this overwhelming sense of awe for the process of labor, birth and motherhood. Again, I had the privilege to be a part of that and despite all the pain, I wholly felt that privilege and honor.
A few hours after Logan was born, Sloane came to visit us in the hospital with Ken's mom. I wanted their meeting to be special for both of them, but I especially was concerned that Sloane didn't see this new addition as a threat to her. Before Sloane came in, I put Logan down in her bed (read: plastic box) on the other side of me and greeted Sloane as she entered with hugs and kisses; I had missed her! Sloane climbed into bed with me, asking me questions and I couldn't help notice how big and grown up she seemed. She was eager to meet baby sister so we brought the baby over and it was the sweetest thing seeing Sloane greet her sister for the first time: she touched her nose and hair, wanted to see her hands and feet and gave her little kisses. Sloane instantly took to her big sister role and it was amazing to witness.
My mom was flying in from Korea that day and landed at about the same time that Logan came into the world. She made it to the hospital the next day on Saturday morning to meet her second granddaughter and it was wonderful to have her there knowing that she was going to be there when we returned home. My sister, Eunice, and her husband, Val, also came down with my mom and I loved seeing that tiny hospital room filled with family members greeting the baby for the first time.
My mom, my sister and my daughters!
Immediate tears when I read the word 'daughters'
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