I've been putting this off because 1, life is busy and I haven't had lots of time/energy to write and 2, because I honestly have a hard time thinking about Mila's birth. It was kind of traumatic to be honest. Every time I think about it I end up feeling super anxious.
But I want to have this written down and I need to do it before so much time goes by that I forget everything.
So here we go.
*I wrote most of this in December 2023, but never quite finished until now*
Mila's due date was September 22nd, though everyone seemed surprised when I told them that during my last trimester because I was massive and looked ready to pop at any moment.
They planned on inducing me a week early because I had gestational diabetes again, but a few weeks out from the due date, I got a feeling that she was really ready to come, so wondered if I might be able to naturally induce labor so that I wouldn't have to be medically induced. At my prenatal appt on September 5th, I talked to the OB about it and she suggested that I start using Evening Primrose to help prepare my body and hopefully help encourage natural labor. So I went to Walmart and couldn't find it ANYWHERE. On the app it said that it was in stock and told me which aisle. I searched the entire aisle probably about 5 times before finally giving up, almost in tears.
Well, it worked out because it would have been a waste of money.
EARLY the next day, my water broke. But like, barely trickling.
We were all going to go up to Columbus that day to go to the temple. I wanted to go one last time before baby arrived because it's a lot harder to go during those newborn days with all of the breastfeeding and such. We were going to be leaving at about 7. Well at about 5:30-6ish I got up to go to the bathroom and something just felt... different.
Pretty much the exact same thing happened when I went into labor with Liam. And I'm VERY glad that it did because if it hadn't, I don't think that I would have had any clue this time that my water had broken. It was so, so subtle. But my previous experience told me that I was pretty dang sure that that's what was going on. So I woke Jonathan up and we decided to send Liam along to Columbus with my in-law's since he would have to be with them anyway if I really was in labor, and we would stay in Kentucky, just in case.
I called L&D to give them the heads up that we would be coming in, and then Jonathan and I got to packing. Last time, we didn't have anything packed, so someone had to pack everything up for us later and bring it to us in the hospital. That time we lived 5 minutes away from the hospital. This time it was closer to half an hour, and since we were still in the process of unpacking everything from our move, I knew that there was no way that I'd be able to describe to anyone else where to find stuff.
Once it was confirmed that my water had indeed broken, I went ahead and called my mom.
My poor, poor mother, who had planned on being there for Liam's birth but ended up missing it because he came "early" was going through the same thing again with Mila. She had planned to come up a couple of days before I would be induced so that she would be there for Mila's birth.
My kids do not care about my mother's plans.
My mom was on her way to institute when I called her. She turned around, packed at the speed of light, and started the 8ish hour drive to Kentucky.
In the meantime, I was still determined to try to get things going naturally.
I was only dilated to a 2, but I was contracting a bit (though lightly enough that I couldn't even feel it). So still better than when my water broke with Liam.
An extern (yes, that's apparently a thing) got my IV set up. I'm the first person she's ever done. She tried my forearm first and it just wasn't flowing well, which is weird because I have never had any issues with my veins and needles. So she put one in my hand instead, but forgot to cap something off, so blood spurted literally everywhere. All over me, the bed, somehow it even got on the floor UNDER the bed.
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| The resulting bruise from the first IV attempt |
I laughed about the whole thing as they got me cleaned up and changed my sheets and gown.
She was so grateful for my attitude about it. She told me that many patients don't even want students in the room observing, let alone doing anything. I just said that everyone needs to learn sometime and I was probably one of the best people for her to learn on because I'm pretty chill with lab work stuff from my years of going from doctor to doctor trying to figure out why my body doesn't function properly.
From then on, she kept coming back to check in on me. She called me "sissy" which felt a little weird but was also kind of sweet coming from her. It seems to kind of be a southern thing *shrugs*
Anyway, I told the nurses that I really, really wanted to avoid pitocin if at all possible, so they hooked me up to a mobile monitor so that I could move around (something that I became extremely grateful for because I had to go pee about 50 times through everything and it was bad enough that I had to keep pulling my IV stand around and unplugging and re-plugging it every time I had to pee).
My ginormous self bounced on an exercise ball for over an hour while listening to music.
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I had to laugh when this song came on
(I took this screenshot whilst bouncing) |
After that I was dilated only very slightly more and the contractions were still imperceptible to me.
So I laid down for a while with a giant peanut ball between my legs.
Again, little to no change.
After hours of trying to get my body to do SOMETHING, I finally gave them the go ahead to start me on the lowest dose of pitocin, still holding on to hope that maybe that would be all my body needed to get going.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Still not dilated more than a 3.
They kept upping the pitocin little by little and the contractions got incredibly painful.
Time for the epidural.
Something else that I had talked to the doctor about the day before was what options I would have for pushing and things. I've seen a lot over the last few years about how the typical birth position that we see (laying on your back, feet up in stirrups) is actually one of the worst positions to push in. So I wanted to know if I could still try different pushing positions even with the epidural.
Anyway, this is when my looooong day of nothing happening all of a sudden changed very rapidly.
A lot happened in fairly quick succession.
First, the mobile monitor finally decided to stop reading properly (which I was told by the nurse was incredible because she said that she often couldn't get them to work in the first place, and if she did, they usually stopped working pretty quickly, but I'd had mine on for hours at that point). That was fine because I wouldn't be moving far from the bed once the epidural kicked in anyway.
So they strapped my belly with the normal monitors (which they ended up having issues with too).
The epidural was working, though differently this time than I remembered from Liam. This time I could move on my own a lot more easily and I could feel a lot more, though the pain was gone.
I got a new nurse right around this time. The first nurse got the hours and hours of nothing happening, and the new nurse got there just in time for all hell to break loose.
I had been laying there for a few minutes when suddenly the doctor is there with at least two nurses and is telling me that I need to get on my hands and knees. They helped me into position, but luckily I was able to move quite a bit on my own.
They tried to get a monitor onto Mila's head, but it wouldn't take (they later noted that it was probably because of her mass amounts of hair).
I was told that her heartrate kept dropping every time I contracted.
The same thing had happened with Liam, but that time I was calmly told by a nurse about it and they just had me change positions every so often, so it must not have been so severe.
This time I was told that they might end up having to do a C-Section.
I told the doctor that I would like to avoid that if possible, but obviously would do it if needed. I asked her what would happen if I did end up having a C-section, asked if Jonathan would be able to be in with me and such. She told me that he would be gowned up and would be able to me there with me.
After pumping some fluid into my uterus to try to give Mila more space, they decided to stop the pitocin to stop my contractions.
The time on my hands and knees was really rough. My arms got tired really quickly, it was hard to breathe, it felt like there were about a million wires and tubes strapped to my thigh and I was just so confused about what was going on and worried about my baby.
Once they stopped the pitocin, they put my bed into a throne-like position (I didn't know that they could do that) and had me sit upright for about 45 minutes with no contractions.
Mila's heart rate regulated and they put my bed back down and started me back up on the lowest dose of pitocin.
Very quickly I was rushed back onto my hands and knees and told that even though I was (finally) dilated to a 9, I would be having an emergency C-section. The OB hurried through all of the C-section info and forms with me and I was moved to a different bed and run out of the room and to the OR.
When I got there they strapped my arms down (spread eagle) and put a sheet up. I wouldn't be able to see anything. I asked about Jonathan and they said that we couldn't wait for him.
There seemed to be so many people and so much movement.
And then I could feel them cutting into me.
It didn't hurt because of the epidural, but I could absolutely feel it.
And I got an intense pain in my crotch area.
I told the anesthesiologist (who was the one who had done my epidural a few hours before and was the only person that I could even kind of see) that it hurt and he said something to the effect of "you should be able to feel pressure." It took me a few more tries to get through to him that I was in extreme pain, not just feeling pressure.
It didn't hurt where they were working on getting Mila out, but down farther. I have no idea why, but it was really bad.
I feel them rooting around in the opening that they've made and feel them pull my baby out. I hear her cry, which gives me some relief.
They passed her past my head for mere moments, told me that she looked great, had some ear tags but was otherwise just fine. And then she was gone.
And I was basically having a panic attack for the first time in ages. And I was still getting that horrible pain in my crotch. And I was freezing, and started shivering uncontrollably. All still laying flat with my arms strapped down.
They started stitching me back up, layer by layer. And I could feel it all. Again, not pain, but pressure (there at least).
I honestly really struggle to think about the experience. I'm obviously glad that I wasn't in a ton of pain at the incision site, but it was still a horrible feeling, feeling them cut through so many layers, move things around, pull me open, stitch, etc.
And I just laid there sobbing and shivering and wondering about my baby and my husband.
And all the while, everyone else in the OR is just chatting. From what I could gather, just about everyone in there had been called from home for the emergency surgery. The anesthesiologist had been on his way home when he got the call. Someone else had just finished putting their kids to bed when they got the Code Pink call and rushed over to the hospital. A couple of them mentioned that they parked illegally in the fire lane because the ER parking lot was completely full. They joked about hoping that they wouldn't get towed.
It was so surreal. Me laying there with a gaping hole in my abdomen to match the one in my heart from my baby being taken away so quickly and not having any idea when I would get to hold her, and them at just another day of work.
It made me think of all of the episodes of The Good Doctor that I've watched where they're all chatting while in the middle of an intense surgery. But the patient has always been asleep in those scenes.
I asked about my baby and was told that Jonathan would be with her in the nursery and I would be rolled past on my way to recovery so that I could hold her for a minute.
I was told that they needed to do an X-ray to make sure that no instruments were left inside of me. They usually count up all of the instruments before a surgery and then again after to insure that nothing was left inside. But since the C-section had to happen to quickly, they weren't able to do a count before starting. I was assured that they were pretty dang positive that nothing was still in there. I was told all of this while being stitched up, which meant that if the X-ray DID show something they would have to cut open everything that they had just stitched up to get it out. Cool cool cool cool cool.
They finish stitching me and then we're just waiting to get the all clear from radiology before they take me out of the OR.
We wait, and wait, and wait some more.
Finally someone appears with Jonathan and Mila and I'm allowed to hold Mila for all of two seconds. I was still laying completely flat, so could hardly even see her.
And then they were gone again.
After more waiting, the OR finally called radiology, who told us that they got the results ages ago and that I was all clear. Thanks for calling to let us know guys. I've only been laying here in pain and shock and freezing, waiting to be reunited with my baby.
So they finally take me down to the recovery room, which was kind of dark and almost looked more like an office than anything.
The one nice thing was that it had this giant vacuum hose looking thing sticking out of the wall that they put under my blankets that blew warm air onto me.
Sometime while I was there, the anesthesiologist came in and said
"We've got a problem........
........your little girl already has daddy wrapped around her little finger. I walked past the room and saw him holding her up with a big grin on his face."
Sweet sentiment, but why the HECK did he think that "we've got a problem" was a good way to start a sentence with everything that I had just been through?!
After about an hour, they finally took me to the maternity ward.
I honestly don't remember a whole lot after that.
I breastfed Mila when I got there I think.
It was just me and Jonathan still. Somewhere in the midst of everything going wrong we told my mom to go ahead and just go to our house instead of the hospital. Jonathan was already feeling in the way with the flurry of activity around my bed, so we decided that having another body in the room would be more stressful than helpful at that point.
That worked out because Mila was born right as my mom was getting into town, so she would have missed it anyway. And she would have missed it even if she had gotten there sooner because even Jonathan wasn't there when Mila actually came out.
I do remember that Mila came out of the womb ready to see the world. Literally hours old and she had her head up and was looking around.
Okay, now that I've run through the stress and trauma of the situation, let me take a step back and tell you some things that I'm grateful for with this whole experience.
One, that my water broke BEFORE we left for Ohio and again, that I knew what I was looking for because the same thing happened with Liam.
Two, that I had JUST gotten the epidural when things went south. Otherwise, they would have had to put me under in order to do the C-section and I wouldn't have even gotten the quick pass by my head to see my baby.
Three, that I was able to move WAY more than I could with my epidural with Liam. I was able to help hasten the process of moving to my hands and knees and then moving from bed to bed for the surgery.
Four, that despite the complications, Mila was absolutely healthy. As far as I can tell, she came out in better condition than Liam was in when he first came out.
It blows my mind a little bit to think of both how similar and how vastly different my two birth experiences have been.
Both times, I was scheduled to be induced a week early. Both times, my kids decided "nope" and my water broke a couple of weeks early. Both times, my body did literally nothing else helpful to help me deliver my babies and I had to be put on pitocin. Both times, their heart rates started dropping with each contraction.
But the differences from then on are stark.
Something else that is the same though is that I feel like, even right after, I feel like I didn't remember a lot from the experiences. Everything kind of just blurs together.
I don't know what time they started the pitocin or how long from the time I got the epidural to everything going crazy to being rushed to the OR was.
After struggling to remember so many of those kinds of things from Liam's birth, I had really wanted to pay better attention this time. But in the moment I was kind of preoccupied with trying to get my body to give birth.
I do know though that Mila Annaliese Laulusa was born on September 6, 2023 at 9:36 PM, weighed 7 lbs even and was 19 inches long.
And I know that my heart grew that day to envelop the love for a second child.
I had honestly worried about that a little bit. I couldn't imagine loving someone as much as I love Liam. I simultaneously worried that once the baby arrived, I would be too wrapped up in her to love Liam properly.
But (like everyone told me), there is plenty of love for both.
I absolutely adore my little boy, but I also absolutely adore my little girl. The love for one isn't greater than the other, just different.
Mila is so different than Liam already.
Liam was a quiet newborn, Mila was constantly making noise (squeaks, grunts, toots, gulping SO loudly when she eats, etc). Liam was pretty dang cute for a newborn while Mila was honestly pretty awkward looking (of course I thought she was beautiful because she's my baby and whatever, but I'm also honest.) Liam's resting face was super judgy. Mila's more wide-eyed shock and amazement at the world. Liam thrived in the swaddle, Mila NEEDS to have her hands in her face (which tracks since that's where they were in every single ultrasound, making it REALLY hard to get a good shot of her face). Liam never did a pacifier and isn't a thumb sucker, Mila has gotten really into sucking her thumb really loudly. Mila sleeps WAY better than Liam did, especially in the bassinet. She also spits up way more. She's louder and messier and stronger (her neck and core are ridiculous) than Liam was at this age.
They're so different, and so amazingly wonderful in their own ways. It's incredible to see.
I am beyond grateful to be their mom. It blows my mind sometimes to think about how much I love them and how blessed I am to be able to raise them.
I can't get over how much I love them both and how incredible they both are.
I'm still mourning the loss of the birth experience that I thought (or hoped) that I would have. And I do think that there is trauma there that I need to figure out how to work through. But every single bit of it was worth my sweet Mila arriving safely.
It's frustrating that my body doesn't seem to have a single clue how to deliver a baby. We're told that it's so natural, that it's what our bodies were meant to do, etc. And mine just, doesn't. But I'm eternally grateful that while it has yet to bring a child into the world without lots of medical intervention, I have been able to get pregnant twice and create two healthy babies.
And I try to remind myself that it is what I intentionally do as a mother that matters the most. Not what my body can or cannot do that I have zero control over.
Anyway, 7 and a half months later, that's the story of how Mila made her big entrance. A bit dramatic if you ask me, but there you go ;)
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The only picture I managed to take on
the actual day that she was born |
Pictures from Jonathan's phone from that day:
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I think this is when I got to hold her
for a minute in the OR |
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Only picture of us all looking at the camera and I'm
pretty sure Jonathan is talking in it 😂 |
Liam meeting Mila for the first time. He just kept saying "she so little"
Some more pictures from the hospital:
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| Gotta have the hands by her face |
Mom came the next day and then she and Jonathan took turns being with me and being with Liam at home.
Heading home!
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I'm sorry, but you can't tell me that she doesn't
look a bit alienesque |
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| And Grandma Laulusa |
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And even Great Grandma Laulusa, who would have
been gone by the time I was going to be induced, but
got to meet Mila since she decided to make her debut early |
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Best picture I managed to get of that wide-eyed
expression in the first few days
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A couple of my favorite pictures from her first few days of life:
And since it took me almost 8 months to publish this, this is what Mila looks like now:
