WAYLON’S BIRTH STORY

On June 3rd, we welcomed our second son, Waylon Wilder Harris, into this world! He made a rather spectacular appearance 5 days before his due date at 2:31am, weighing in at 7lbs 14oz and 20.5in long. Bigger than his brother who was 5 days late!

Bringing Waylon into this world was equal parts a marathon and a sprint. I had months of Braxton Hicks contractions and weeks of prodromal labor. Ultimately I think those things prepared my body to hit the ground SPRINTING when it was finally time.

Because I was trying for a VBAC, I knew I didn’t want to go very far past my due date. It just seemed like the odds would start to get stacked against me as I got farther along and baby got bigger. I was also concerned about waiting for my parents to get here, though, to make sure we had a concrete plan for Ivey and the dogs.

As soon as my parents got to town on May 25th, I started doing ALL the things to naturally encourage labor - miles circuits, colostrum extraction, curb walking, red raspberry leaf tea, dates, evening primrose oil, etc. At my 37 week appt (the week before they arrived) I was only 1cm, but by my 38 week appointment I had progressed to 3cm. My efforts were working! My midwife and I agreed that a membrane sweep would be a good option for me since I wanted to avoid other induction methods down the road. I got one that day and went home with my fingers crossed.

The next morning, I 100% thought I was in labor. I had contractions that progressed from 5 minutes apart to 2-3 minutes apart over the course of a few hours and right when we were about to call the midwife, things slowed down. That was Thursday and for the next few days, I continued to have early signs of labor but nothing concrete. I was crampy, emotional, lost my mucous plug, had tons of Braxton Hicks, etc., but nothing that made me think labor was imminent (to the point that I was feeling quite frustrated all weekend).

Sunday evening, I told Charles that we were going to have a baby that night. It was mostly a joke, but I wanted to believe it was true. We went to bed around 11pm and at 12:30am I woke up to long, painful contractions. They were 2-3 minutes long and that freaked me out because a quick google search told me that long contractions could put a lot of stress on baby. They started 8-10 minutes apart, but after timing just a couple they quickly jumped to 2-3 minutes apart.

I knew in my head that things were happening FAST, but I didn’t want to believe it. My experience with Ivey’s birth left me with a lot of self doubt. I felt like I couldn’t trust my own pain tolerance or perceptions of sensations. Were the contractions really that painful or was I just a wimp? Was I really starting to feel pushy or was my body once again pushing too early?

As contractions started to hit me like a freight train, I knew one thing - if we didn’t leave for the hospital ASAP, I would not be able to cope during the 20-minute car ride.

So Charles quickly helped me get dressed as I struggled to maintain composure between contractions. As we got in the car (around 1:30am), Charles was on the phone with the midwife. I could tell from their convo that he didn’t quite understand how urgent things were (because I didn’t do a good job of vocalizing it) and the midwife DEFINITELY didn’t understand how urgent things were. Thankfully she still got in the car and headed straight there!

Poor Charles had so much going on that he didn’t put the right address in the gps. I was watching the minutes count down on the ETA and I was STRUGGLING to maintain control as wave after wave hit me. Imagine my stress when we arrived at our destination and it wasn’t the hospital! After 8 more minutes of driving and me panting through contractions telling Charles in a panic that I was trying my hardest not to push, we pulled up at the ER entrance of the hospital. The relief at knowing we wouldn’t be having a baby on the side of the highway was insane!

Charles left the car running and quickly walked me in. He and the security guard got me in a wheelchair and that was NOT where I wanted to be. I immediately jumped out and struggled through another contraction. Two nurses came running out of the ER and suggested I kneel on the chair while they ran me up to L&D. I was definitely pushing during that ride, and I could not have stopped if I tried! I’m not sure I opened my eyes once from that point on until baby was out so the details are blurry, I just know it was awful.

When they got me up to L&D, I remember being surrounded immediately by organized chaos. As they stripped off my clothes, a nurse asked where I wanted to be and I [TMI] said the toilet. The nurse told me “Oh no, it’s too late for the honey” and I replied in distress “But I’m shitting myself!” She responded something like “No sweetie, that’s your baby’s head! We can see his head!” Can you imagine?! I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I just wasn’t expecting that! The embarrassment I still feel about this whole conversation is palpable, but hey… that’s birth, right?!

From that point on, it was about half an hour of hell. Trying to climb onto the bed with a crowning baby? Hell. Crowning and pushing for 20-30 minutes? Agonizing HELL. Trying to find a more comfortable position to move things along with a head halfway out? Excruciating HELL.

I wish I could say that I put all our hypnobirthing practice to work, but I 100% did not maintain my composure. Charles was a SAINT coaching me and I tried my best, but I went full primal. I knew pushing out a baby without pain meds would be hard, but I had envisioned a slow build - laboring in water, moving to a birth stool to push, using nitrous, etc. Everything just happened so fast and I couldn’t get a hold on things. The only way out of was through, but I sure would have liked a way out at points.

After all that pushing, Waylon’s big, round head finally popped out and was very quickly followed by his body and my bag of water. I ultimately pushed him out on hands and knees so it was a bit of a struggle to get flipped onto my back and get Waylon onto my chest. He had a short cord, but I was able to hold him on my belly for a few minutes until the cord was clamped. Despite all the craziness, we got to enjoy our golden hour of skin to skin which was so special after not getting to hold Ivey for his first hour post-birth.

Just to reiterate that timeline - I woke up around 12:30, things ramped up significantly by 1ish, we left for the hospital around 1:30, arrived at 2, and Waylon was born at 2:31! Crazy.

I ended up needing several stitches because I had a second-degree tear and bi-lateral labial lacerations (these sound innocuous, but OUCH). Getting stitched up was one of the worst parts for me. I’ve heard moms say that they didn’t feel much when they were being stitched up, but that wasn’t the case for me. I found it pretty uncomfortable even with lidocaine. The worst part was my anxiety, though. When I had my c-section with Ivey, I experienced more pain than I should have. My epidural wasn’t completely effective, and the surgical team didn’t slow down even though they knew I was in pain. This time around, I felt like I was going to have a panic attack when they started stitching me up just from the fear of being in pain for the procedure. Kind of crazy after I just ripped through skin and muscle pushing out a baby, but anxiety doesn’t always follow logic. My team was understanding, and I was really proud of myself for speaking up and expressing my fear, but they did still have to stitch me up. They didn’t dismiss my fear and they rushed to get an IV placed so that they could get me additional pain meds. They made me as comfortable as they could and thankfully it was over fairly quickly.

I have to say, my team did their absolute best to accommodate my birth plan in the little time we had. Apparently, my primary nurse pulled my birth preferences up in their system when she heard we were on our way into the hospital and (despite it being 4 pages long and only having about 20 minutes to prepare), she really did have a good grasp of my experience with Ivey’s birth and my desires for this one.

In my few moments of lucidity, I definitely snapped at a few people. I didn’t like the position they put me in initially, I didn’t like their coached pushing (although I ultimately needed it), I didn’t like little things they did like trying to pat the sweat off my face or pull my hair back (LOL), but those things were at least well intentioned and they really did create the best experience for me that they could given the circumstances.

One hiccup I was worried about initially was the fact that I was GBS+ and didn’t arrive early enough at the hospital for a round of antibiotics. This meant we had to spend extra time recovering in the hospital while Waylon was monitored for signs of infection. Ultimately, I think this was a good thing because it gave my body a bit of time to recover before going home to a very active toddler and a house with a lot of stairs.

Now that we’ve been home a few days, we’re doing okay! Thriving might be a bit of an overstatement, but life with a newborn and a freshly two-year-old is challenging. My tears are bothering me more than I would like. People say it’s easier to recover from a vaginal birth than a c-section, but I think the jury is still out on that one. I don’t feel very comfortable sitting or standing, and walking beyond the mailbox definitely isn’t in the cards yet. I’m a bit frustrated by that, but I also have to remember that it’s only been a couple of days.

Breastfeeding has been going okay, though it’s not without its frustrations sometimes. Waylon is back up to birth weight already which is a big relief, but my supply is more than he needs, and I have to pump for a few minutes before nursing or else he gets fire hosed and aspirates.

Ivey is obsessed which has been SO sweet to see, but he wants to smother Waylon and he doesn’t know his strength. We have to monitor interactions closely and give lots of reminders about using soft, gentle hands, but we knew that would be the case. Ivey always wants to be close to “Baby Wayne” as he calls him, and it has eased my concerns about their close age gap. We just need to survive the next year or two!

Overall, this birth experience was a HUGE improvement over my last, despite it not going according to plan. There was still trauma to my body, but not trauma to my spirit. I felt supported, heard, encouraged, and in control. I regained faith in my own ability to do hard things. My body feels foreign right now, but damage done to my self-image and psyche during my first birth that felt irreparable is already on the mend.

I hope to get back to hiking and camping soon, but for now I’ll be enjoying newborn snuggles until further notice!