Joey's Birth Story

When I posted Mikey's birth story, several people asked about Joey's. My answer is that I'd post his story when I was so moved. I expected this to be around his birthday, but for whatever reason I just never got it posted.

It's the night before my own birthday. From what my mom has told me of my own birth, my dad rushed her into the hospital and had to insist to doubtful medical personnel that "if my wife says she's having this baby now, she's having this baby NOW." She was wheeled into a delivery room and sure enough, I was already crowning. In about an hour, it will be exactly 33 years since this happened. It never occurred to me until just this moment -- as I was trying to find a connection between my birth and my second son's -- how very similar my birth (my mother's second-born) was to the birth of my own second-born. Both my son and I were born quickly and confidently to strong, confident mothers. Neither my mother nor I, in the moment of impending birth, seemed to give indication of just how very close to delivery we were. I'm sort of awed and humbled by the parallels.

Without further ado, here's Joey's story:

I began losing my mucus plug in the morning on Tuesday, September 15. Mikey and I were at a playgroup at a kid friendly coffee house. A woman was playing acoustic guitar and singing kid songs and Mikey was just dancing around and playing with the toys and chattering with all the patrons. It was such a happy and peaceful and musical beginning. I didn't know how long it would be, but I knew the birth of my second son was imminent and all was well with my world.

Contractions began that evening, consistently enough to prompt a call to my doula Jodi, but they were 10-20 minutes apart and not at all strong. Jodi confirmed that it was probably prodromal labor and instructed me to get some sleep and to call her when things picked up. I had also called my mother to come down, because I was sure things were going to start very soon and she was going to take care of Mikey for us when the time came to go to the hospital. The contractions slowed down overnight, and I woke up on Wednesday a little discouraged, but kept myself calm and reminded myself that my baby and my body knew what to do, and everything would happen in the time it was meant to. Around 11am on Wednesday, contractions began again and they continued to come all day. We went to my weekly midwife's appointment and explained what was happening. She agreed that it was probably almost show time, but scheduled an induction for 41 weeks 6 days (9 days later) just in case. I wasn't upset about this at all because I knew I was going to be having my baby very soon.

My mother-in-law arrived around dinner time and we all ordered and ate a pizza. Jodi called me in the early evening to check in and see how things were going. I told her contractions had been coming consistently all day but were still at least 10 minutes apart, so I was sure we had plenty of time to go. She told me she'd be teaching a group childbirth class that evening, but to text or call as soon as anything changed or I felt I needed her. I texted Jodi back around 8:30 to let her know that contractions were now consistently coming every 5 minutes and lasting nearly a minute a piece. I asked her to come after her class was over. Then settled in for the evening alternating playing on my computer and watching tv with John and our moms.

I knew I should be using Hypnobabies techniques to “handle” the contractions, but honestly they didn't need much handling at that point. I definitely had to stop and focus on my breathing, but I didn't feel the need to enter hypnosis or do any specific visualizations. I just breathed through them and swayed back and forth either sitting on the birth ball (when I was at my computer) or slightly squatting / leaning with the couch back for support (when I was in the living room watching tv with the family) or leaning on / dancing with John. I was also drinking lots of water. Jodi said by the time she arrived around 10:30, she thought we had many hours to go based on how I was laughing and talking about other things and how she saw me handling the contractions when they came. They did start to feel increasingly uncomfortable, but I just continued to breathe through them. Honestly, at this point I didn't think about the labor much or have much of a plan or idea on how I wanted things to go. I kept waiting for it to get difficult enough to need to really turn in and use my Hypnobabies techniques or even put a script on in my headphones.

Finally, just before midnight, I went to the bathroom and had a really intense contraction that actually made me cry and lose my composure a bit. I came out and told John and Jodi that I was to the point where I didn't think I'd be able to handle the car ride if we waited much longer. Jodi nodded and said she'd been thinking much the same thing. I then had two contractions pretty much right on top of each other. Everything was already in the car, so we got my mom (who had no idea that we were even close to needing to get to the hospital) and went. I put on the Easy First Stage script and listened to it in the car. I wasn't able to turn “off” because I needed to brace my feet against the floor and push my bottom off the seat as best I could when waves came. But I kept my eyes closed, I kept my breathing as steady as I could, and I just focused on the voice in my ears.

We got to the hospital and got buzzed in. The nurses escorted us to our room and one of them brought me to the bathroom and gave me a robe and a belly band they'd use to hold the monitors in place. I somehow managed to get these on even as contractions were wracking my body. I got into the bed and lay back which was absolutely torturous. They got the monitors placed, and the nurse did a cervical check. I was dilated 6-7cm, 100% effaced. She asked me twice if my membranes had ruptured because she was surprised they hadn't with how well the baby's head was applied to my cervix. She tied the tourniquet on my arm to place the IV when another wave came. And then my water broke and I completely lost it. I made some pretty guttural screams and thrashed about a bit. I've never been so frightened. But John and Jodi were there to my left and brought me back. Jodi made me look at her and stare her in the eyes. “What's happening?” she asked. “I think my water broke,” I cried. And then INTENSE pressure in my bowels and cervix. The baby was pushing himself out. I was so scared since she'd just said I was 7 cm. I knew he couldn't come out if I was only 7, and I didn't want him or me to get hurt. Another one or two of those INTENSE pushing contractions. I was intensely frightened and sort of lost it each time these contractions twisted my body against my own will. But my birth team was key. I was holding somebody's hand on my right, and I realized after the fact that it was my mom's. John kept speaking words of encouragement and his voice and his presence just automatically made me feel more calm and controlled. Jodi just made me look at her and blow the contractions away and blow my baby out. The nurses were scrambling like mad getting the baby's bassinet ready, getting the “delivery” equipment ready... yelling at me not to push, but I couldn't not push. I wasn't pushing; Joey was. The nurse checked me quickly and confirmed I was complete and I guess it was pretty obvious anyway, because his head was there. One or two more contractions and he just sort of slipped out, into the hands of Rhonda the nurse. He'd had his left arm bent up around his own neck, so I did tear a bit on delivery. He cried immediately on his birth and I felt such physical and emotional relief once he was out. They brought the baby up to my chest and started rubbing him vigorously. That wasn't really what I'd wanted, but I was so bewildered at that point that I was okay with pretty much anything that didn't hurt him. John did manage to stop them from clamping the cord before it stopped pulsing, so we did get that wish fulfilled for this baby. And John was able to cut the cord, which fulfilled his wish that had been stolen from him at Mikey's birth.

Joseph Cuono was born at 1:14am on Thursday, September 17, 2009, approximately 13 minutes after we'd walked into the hospital room. He weighed 6 lbs 15 ounces and measured 19.5 inches long. He had a full head of beautiful black hair and the most gorgeous deep almond-shaped eyes I've ever seen. His head was perfectly round; after all, it didn't spend a lot of time getting squeezed through the birth canal! We put him to my breast within 15 minutes of his birth, and he did latch on. Nursing was slow for his first day of life, but on his second he really figured it out and has been eating like a champ ever since!

The doctor who practices with my midwife arrived about 5 minutes after he was born. She delivered his placenta and stitched up my 2^nd degree tear. She gave us a bit of a stern look over not having arrived in time to get antibiotics due to my positive GBS diagnosis. It wasn't deliberate on our part though. Joey just decided to be born a lot sooner and quicker than we thought he would! (And as an epilogue to that part of the story, the blood culture they drew from Joey came back completely negative, as we knew it would since my membranes didn't rupture until right before he came out).

So there it is, my completely natural birth story for my second son. I am SO proud of myself and my son. By trusting in us, I was able to have the experience that I wanted to have. I am SO grateful for the support of my amazing husband John and my wonderful mom Cathie and incredible doula Jodi. Without positive people believing in me and telling me that I could do it, I'm not sure that I could have. My recovery from this birth has been light years better than that from my intervention heavy one. I can't believe that it's mere coincidence.

Although I didn't actively employ many Hypnobabies techniques during the labor and birth, I think that it helped me tremendously. I think that having practiced feeling relaxed and calm for the last few months of my pregnancy helped me to feel relaxed and calm during labor even if I didn't consciously enter a state of hypnosis. I think that all the affirmations and positive language that I'd absorbed and lived about how birthing is natural and easy and comfortable really helped my overall state of consciousness and made that true for me.

Life's a Beach!

Yesterday I took the boys to the beach with my mom for the second time this summer. There was a late start, due to Mikey's school. And there was a lot of stuff to haul. And the sand made poor Joey just about miserable. Especially when Mikey took a big ol' shovelful of it and dumped it on his head. It was hot and the showers inside the changing area weren't working so everybody had to use the ones outside. Poor Joey suffered the injustice of a harsh spray in cold water after having already born the sea sand scalp scrub courtesy of his brother. That is one exfoliated baby!

But man. It was a good time! We went to the boardwalk and had delicious sandwiches at this place that bakes its own rolls fresh. And fresh french fries with the skins on. Mikey rode a bunch of rides. Seeing the smile on his face just made me burst with love and gratitude. I have the honor of mothering this awesome kid! And the joy of introducing him to the joys of life.

We stumbled home at 10:45PM. Sleepy, sandy, and sun-kissed. "You all smell like the beach," John said.



See the tongue sticking out as he concentrates? He gets that from me.



Don't let Joey try to tell you he didn't have any fun.



Tough to get a picture of a kiddie ride with a camera phone. Actually, I kind of like the blurriness with the crazy bright colors.

Mikey's Birth

Tomorrow is Mikey's birthday, so I thought I'd post his birth story. This is the first time I've read it in a long time and the first time since Joey's birth. It's amazing to me how vastly different my two birth experiences were. The whole labor is heavily punctuated by interventions and I can't help but remember feeling disregarded and patronized. And yet, I can't think negatively about Mikey's birth at all. I made the best decisions I could make in the moment. And the result was my firstborn. My handsome little man. My sweet, funny, and rambunctious little motor-head. I don't know what I would do without him.

Without further ado, Mikey's Birth Story:
On Monday, July 23 (39 weeks, 6 days gestation), I woke up with some minor upper abdominal / chest pain. At my doctor office’s recommendation, we went to the emergency room. Due to some borderline high blood pressure readings, the hospital resident and the OB on call from my practice decided to admit me and induce my labor. They administered Cervidil, and had me sleep until morning. In the morning, I hadn’t dilated any further. The Cervidil hadn’t worked at all. Dr. R (my favorite OB) checked me and sent me home, stating that since the Cervidil hadn’t worked and my BP readings had settled down into normal range it would be better to allow me to go into labor naturally. I was instructed to report for twice weekly non-stress tests (NST’s), where they would check the baby’s heartbeat and my blood pressure as well as perform an ultrasound to measure amniotic fluid levels.

On Wednesday, July 25 (40 weeks, 1 day gestation), I went to the OB’s office for my 40 week appointment. I was informed that I was scheduled for an August 1 induction if I did not deliver on my own before then. I would be 41 weeks 1 day pregnant. I did NOT want to be induced before 42 weeks, but my doctors don't "let" a pregnant woman get that far into her pregnancy. I spent the next week very stressed out and in tears all the time that they were going to force me to induce when I knew that it was unnecessary and extremely risky. Based on what I’ve read, nearly half of medical inductions fail, resulting in cesarean delivery. This was confirmed anecdotally by the experience of a personal friend who is a Labor & Delivery nurse. Furthermore, the average first pregnancy is 41 weeks 3 days. Thus in my opinion, they were going to try to deliver my baby early. I felt very strongly that I would go into labor on my own if allowed to. I reported dutifully for my non-stress tests and passed them all with flying colors. My amniotic fluid levels were high, and the ultrasound tech said she'd never seen such a young-looking placenta so late in a pregnancy. In other words, my baby was doing just FINE inside my body. Meanwhile, my bloody show and Braxton Hicks contractions were increasing throughout that week. I knew I would soon go into labor on my own. The morning of July 31, John called and told them we were in early labor and would not be going in for the induction. Two days later, when I spoke to one of the doctors on the phone about wanting to delay the induction until 42 weeks, I was threatened that every day I waited meant "increased risk of fetal distress." It still makes me angry that she would try to bully me by telling me I was hurting my baby when there was NO medical evidence to support that assertion.

My contractions started around 7:30PM on August 2. I waited about an hour to be sure of what I was feeling and then told John. We called our moms around 11pm (both had been invited to attend the delivery with us). I labored at home, timing contractions online, watching tv, and surfing the internet. Our mothers arrived very early Friday morning and after some excited chitchat we all decided to try to get a little shuteye. I don’t think I slept for longer than 30 minutes though. By about 2am, the contractions were coming closer together at about every 4-5 minutes, and they were very uncomfortable. I was experiencing pretty strong back labor. I ran a warm bath hoping that would ease my discomfort some, but at about 5am, I woke John in tears and told him I didn’t think I was going to be able to withstand the pain without medication and that I thought we needed to get to the hospital. My mom drove to the hospital while John held me in the backseat. Once we got to the hospital and explained who we were and that I was in labor, it seems like every single nurse, resident, and orderly there needed to comment about our “missed” induction appointment two nights earlier. After accepting our scolding (did we have any choice?) we finally were settled into a delivery room. I was persuaded pretty easily to get an epidural due to the extremity of my back labor pain. This was a heart-wrenching decision for me because I had planned to deliver without pain meds, but my sunny-side-up boy caused my body to have something different to say about it. High blood pressure readings further complicated matters as anesthesiology refused to administer the epidural until blood-work came back from the lab. Meanwhile, John and our moms just kept talking me through and helping me breathe while I squeezed poor John’s hand into jelly. The resident offered me IV pain meds to take the edge off while we waited for the all-clear for the epidural. Desperate for relief, I agreed. I received the IV meds around 6:30 or 7am, and they immediately put me to sleep. When the anesthesiologist came back to administer the epidural, I was sound asleep and thus it could not be administered. The IV meds also slowed down my contractions to about every 8-10 minutes. My OB appeared and examined me. Concerned that labor had slowed down she stated that she wanted to break my water and see if that would pick up the pace of the contractions. She said that if it didn’t, they would begin to administer pitocin. However, immediately following artificial rupture of membranes (AROM), the labor nurse appeared with the bag of pitocin. When I told her that the doctor had suggested we could wait to see if AROM did the trick, she told me that she was following the doctor’s orders and she hooked the pitocin up to the drip. At about 10am, I finally received the epidural. After an exam indicated we had some time, John and my mom decided to go to the house to check on the cats, shower, and grab some diversions for the long (we thought) haul ahead. Around 12 noon, the OB examined me and told me I was fully dilated and it was time to start pushing. I was really nervous about this because John and my mom hadn’t returned yet. She told me not to worry because it would likely still be some time before the baby was actually out. John’s mom called him and advised him that he needed to get back to the hospital as soon as possible. He arrived back during my third or fourth set of pushes. And so, after only 17 hours of labor and about 30-45 minutes of pushing, Michael Allan was born at 12:56PM on Friday, August 3, 2007.

It still upsets me that we were bullied so regarding induction. And I was shocked when the staff at the hospital gave us lip about missing the induction. There I was in labor; clearly I'd been right, but they still wanted to belittle me. Fortunately, my favorite OB from my practice was the one to deliver me, and although she did comment about the missed induction, she was the most supportive of my decision among any of the medical staff.

My son was perfect and beautiful and weighed 7 pounds 2 ounces. Not so big for an "overdue" baby. But then it's my belief he wasn't overdue at all. My baby and my body knew the right time for him to join us.

Sunday night

9:15 on a Sunday night and John comes in our bedroom. I'm on my belly watching tv while Joey is drifting off to sleep in the Pack N Play next to the bed. "Asleep?" I ask, but I see the answer -- a negative -- following close on his Daddy's heels. "He's afraid of the thunder and wants Mommy to help him go to sleep." I sigh and follow my son into his bedroom. There is no thunder. But there is a Mommy to help him go to sleep.

9:18 I sit in the rocking chair and start to sing. I don't sing traditional lullabies: partly because I don't know the words to any lullabies and partly because it would bore me. So I sing Barenaked Ladies, Billy Joel, and Paul Simon. I watch the triangle of light from the ajar bedroom door waver on the ceiling as I rock back and forth. I watch the shadow of the oscillating fan move back and forth. I sing, "People say I'm crazy; I've got diamonds on the soles of my shoes," as a million thoughts race through my head: first among them that it's time I start this blog. Two songs and he's out and I silently slip out through his door.

9:30 I go back to the bedroom where Joey is all but out. I watch a few minutes of tv with John. Then I feel a small hand on my calf. "You were not in your chair." "Oh buddy," I say, "I thought you were asleep!" "You were not in your chair," he repeats, this sentence summarizing my role in his life quite neatly. I'm expected to be in a certain place in order to keep his world turning at the right speed and tilt. I was not where I was supposed to be, and even in his sleep he knew this. I try to get him to climb up and fall asleep on our bed, but he is distracted by the tv.

9:38 I follow him back and sing five more songs. Then I sit silently for five more minutes... just to be sure. I slip out once again and this time sleep sticks. Joey is still awake, but barely. We know that he will drift off on his own, so John and I go downstairs.

10:15 We've been trying to watch Burn Notice for about twenty minutes when Joey begins crying. And after a few minutes, it's evident that this is needy crying as opposed to overtired fussing. So I go back upstairs to nurse him back to sleep.

11:02 I go downstairs. "It's 11:00 and all of my children are sleeping," I say to John. He smiles. But it's too late now to watch Burn Notice. We watch Jeopardy! and go to bed.