Welcoming Everly Pearl

She's here! And she wants everyone to know it. Doctor's offices, grocery stores, restaurants, car dealerships, it doesn't matter where we go, she will let you know that she has arrived and will not be silenced. She is a bit high maintenance and runs on a baseline of mild displeasure, which can turn to pure happiness just as easily as it can turn to fiery rage. Little Everly wants what she wants when she wants it. In other words, she's pretty normal. Her sister quite possibly set us up for some false expectations with her simplicity. That's OK though. I like a challenge, and I respect her for knowing what she wants. No one will mess with this one. She's also so incredibly sweet, and I feel this very fierce protective love for her. It's hard to describe, but I guess that's motherhood in a nutshell.

Her entrance into the world was a rocky one. Starting at 38 weeks I began leaking fluid. A slow, clear leak, just like with Trinity. I figured this was it, so I went in to get it checked and they said it wasn't amniotic fluid. What was it? No one knows. 39 weeks, still leaking. I make them check the fluid around the baby to make sure she's still ok. Everything checks out. 40 weeks, heavier leaking. So I make them test the fluid again. Oh weird, THIS time, it comes back positive as amniotic fluid, and they tell me I should go have this baby. uhhhh ok? At this point it's 5 p.m., and we've both worked all day. I've already been up for 12 hours, and I'm tired. I want her out, but this suddenly seems sudden.

Our last picture together as one

 So we go home and get all of our bags and arrive at the hospital around 6 p.m. We get checked in and they start me on Pitocin right away because at this point no one knows how long my water has been leaking and they just want to get the baby out. I labor through the night, and around 3 a.m., I'm sitting in the bath tub and I can feel the baby make a big, sudden movement.  All the monitors start going off because her heart rate has fallen dangerously low. The midwife and nurse come bustin' in the room and flip me in a million different positions trying to get the heart rate back. They try to act calm but you can tell they are starting to panic a little, so I'm starting to panic a little. After what feels like forever but is probably only about 2 minutes, they get it back. After this, they turn off the Pitocin so as not to stress her out any further. My contractions fade in and out, until they turn it back on around 9 a.m. I've been awake for 27 hours and the baby is nowhere near coming out.

Labor is rough. #DadLife

Even though we tell them it's unnecessary, our families come and spend the night in the waiting room. In the middle of the night, my aunt takes Trinity out to her truck to get some rest, and she curls up on the dog's bed in there. When recounting the night of her sister's birth, Trinity always tells people, "I slept on a dog bed."

Around 2 p.m. a doctor comes in and tells us it's been too long and the baby is still up too high to break my water the rest of the way. They are starting to talk C-Section, and this throws Travis into a bit of a tissy. He's mad at the midwives for bringing in a doctor, and he's mad at the doctor for wanting to cut. Even though his display of anger makes me uncomfortable, he's the perfect advocate for what I want, which is a natural, un-medicated birth, and I'm so thankful he's there.

The doctor gives us an hour to get the baby down far enough so that she can break my water. So we set up what feels like Crossfit exercise stations for my 9-months-pregnant, 7-centimeters-dilated ass to do in order to make the baby move lower. This includes deep squats, lunges, bouncing on an exercise ball, and laying backwards on the bed with my feet dangling off while Travis pulls on them. That last move was especially excruciating and I've now been up for 32 hours. All the hard work paid off, and the baby is a couple stations lower when the doctor comes in to break my water at 3:30.

As soon as my water is completely broken, it's on like Donkey Kong. The contractions are hard and fast and holy shit why does it hurt so bad!? I'm trying to employ all the breathing techniques I learned in prenatal yoga, and be like the women I watched in the hypnobirthing videos, but I am tired, and this hurts more than I remember. I decide I'm just gonna start pushing and get this over with.

Once I start that, I can't stop. It gives me an outlet for all the pain to go. With Trinity, I remember it being intense, but not actual pain. With this baby, I think I left teeth marks on the bed rail. Right when she's almost out, I hear the midwife utter a phrase you do not want to hear when you're giving birth, "well, that's more blood than I should be seeing." I look over at Travis who's standing wide-eyed beside me, and I can tell he's trying not to freak out as I hemorrhage all over everything. He then tells me that I HAVE to get her out NOW. So I push with all my might, to the point that I see stars when I close my eyes, and I feel her head break free. I hear the midwife say, "we have a shoulder." And I assume that means her shoulder has emerged. But it does not mean that. Next thing I know, the nurse jumps up and comes down hard with both hands on my pubic bone. A blood curdling scream comes out of me, both out of intense pain and pure surprise, because if there's one thing you don't expect when giving birth, it's your nurse to punch you in the stomach. It does the trick though. Her shoulder was stuck and the one-two punch dislodged it. They then tell me to reach down and grab my baby. I do as I'm told, and she lets out her first war cry. 24 hours after we arrived at the hospital, and 36 hours after I woke up two mornings ago, she is here. 8 lbs and 5 ounces of strength, beauty, and perfection.

                 

My pain in this picture is at an 11