I have two kids. That just throws me for a loop. A wonderful, terrifying, very real loop.
Noah and Micah’s birth story are so different.
You can read Noah’s, here.
Being pregnant with Micah was a breeze. I was constantly surprised at how easy the whole pregnancy was, and yet I was READY to for him to arrive right at the 37 week mark. I could not wait to see this precious little boy I would get to love and nurture. But Micah, was not as eager as his mommy.
At our 40 week appointment I laughed with the receptionist about how this would definitely be the last time I would see her and how I would most certainly cry if I had to show up to my 41 week appointment.
It wasn’t the last time I saw her. Hello, 41 weeks. And, while the receptionist and I laughed about it, I certainly did feel like crying.
My appointment went very smoothly. My body was progressing very well and it looked like labor could be later that day or later next week (hah). My midwife asked if we had thought about being induced. I had been induced with Noah and knew that I DEFINITELY did not want to be induced with baby #2. My labor with Noah had been awful.
You will imagine my surprise then, when I walked out of that appointment with an induction scheduled for the next day. After my midwife and I had talked through the process and the pros and cons, I had decided to move forward with induction again. I fought all day with my emotions of whether it was the right thing to do or not. There are so many valid opinions out there for and against induction.
I wasn’t even going to include the fact that I was induced on this post because I feel a little ashamed of the fact that neither of my babies came on their own time. All the birth stories I’ve read have been about beautiful natural births. So many mothers are proud of their natural births, while I chose induction for my children. It’s not like I intended on making those choices beforehand, but during my conversations with the medical professionals I dealt with during both pregnancies, I was encouraged to view induction as a viable option each time. I do not regret being induced with Micah or Noah but I am afraid of being judged harshly for my choices. However, that is what happened and it would be silly for me to hide it,
although I’d totally rather hide it and not deal with people having opinions about it.
So at 5:00 AM, on Thursday September 11 Connor and I woke up, knowing we would meet our second son that day (although I still wasn’t 100% convinced he wasn’t a girl – ultrasounds can totally be wrong, right?!).
We left Noah with my parents and made our way to the hospital. I had a granola bar for breakfast. Which was a terrible idea. When you are preparing for labor, you should eat filling and protein-rich food to fuel your body. I SHOULD know that, considering this is my second time, but, you know, I just must be a total air head. I think I drove the nurses crazy because I told them at least once an hour that I was starving and could NOT wait to eat.
We arrived at the hospital at 8:00AM and were checked into THE SAME ROOM I delivered Noah in. It was one of those things that calms and fills up your heart. All of our surroundings were familiar and we had the best of memories there. They have like 30 labor and delivery rooms at this hospital. What are the odds?
They got me hooked up to a low drip of Pitocin right away and Connor and I settled in to watch a few episodes of Chuck (available on Netflix and absolutely my favorite TV series that my husband and I have watched together. Love love love.). It was really nice to have a quiet morning for the two of us to talk and dream about what our family was about to become.
Around noon my contractions were coming more regularly and I was dilated to a 4. I wasn’t having any pain with my contractions, just feeling super excited to meet my baby!
I believe the midwife came back around 2pm and broke my water. A super comfortable and non-painful procedure. Not.
The pain started coming almost immediately afterwards. My contractions picked up big time and it wasn’t an hour later I was enthusiastically flagging down the anesthesiologist. I tried really hard to have Noah without an epidural and ended up exhausting myself mentally and physically which made pushing absolutely miserable. This time around, I was all for relief as soon as that pain started getting real. I am not about that “all natural” life. Nope. But seriously, I am in absolute awe of the women who can and do this process without pain relievers.
I had the best anesthesiologist in the entire hospital. I am absolutely sure of it. I had no pain whatsoever and I could even move my legs freely. Epidurals are usually much more restrictive than that. The nurses couldn’t believe I had as much mobility as I did. I felt completely relaxed and ready to have this baby. It was totally different from before Noah’s arrival and I am so thankful it was.
At 9:00PM I started feeling the “pressure.” My midwife checked me again and, sure enough, I was 10 cm dilated and 100% effaced. She said Micah’s head was slightly turned and not completely lined up with the birth canal so we would wait a little while before pushing so that the Micah could “labor down” on his own. Which was completely genius. I loved my midwife SO MUCH. Every call she made during labor was exactly right.
At 10:15pm it was go-time. Connor and I high-fived and got focused. I was mentally prepared for over an hour of pushing so after only a few pushes (6?) my mouth hit the floor when my midwife said, “Okay, we’re going to have this baby with the next contraction.” Whaat?! She was totally right, and Micah was born at 10:36 PM and placed right on my chest (and I was finally convinced that he was, definitely, a boy).
Having Micah Nolan Boyce was the easiest thing I have ever done (not really, but you get the picture). As he was getting checked over by the nurses, I looked at Connor and exclaimed, “We should have AT LEAST six kids if it’s going to be that easy!” I was obviously high on endorphins and completely crazed,
but maybe not.
Micah was 8 lbs. 15 oz. One ounce away from nine pounds. The midwives had all told me he was sure to be a seven pound baby. Instead, I had this whopping almost nine-pounder. Every single nurse we came in contact with commented on how big he was. Really. All of them. Because he was so “big” he had difficulty controlling his blood sugar and because he came so quickly he still had fluid in his lungs. Those two factors led to a couple night stay in the NICU. I did not feel anxiety about it because I knew my son was healthy and in the most capable hands he could be.
Needless to say, when Connor and I finally got to take Micah home on Sunday and hug both of our boys, our hearts were totally and completely full.