Our Little Angel

Coraline Marie Bryner

Born 11.18.11 - 5:08 a.m.

6 lbs. 1 oz. - 20 inches

And yes, for you family who understand this, you can call her Little "PorFavor"!

................................

The Birth Story:

Because my blog is my journal, I want to document everything that happened. This is long, so if you don't want to know all the details, now is the time to stop reading this post. :)

When I was pregnant with Bronson, I loved being pregnant! (Well, for the most part...) I wasn't anxious for him to get here and enjoyed every minute of feeling him move around inside of me, and of watching my belly grow and shape-shift.

But this pregnancy was a lot harder on me. Maybe because I had another baby to chase around. And maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that my body never really had a chance to fully heal and recover from baby #1 before getting pregnant and having to do it all over again. Hmmm, ya think? Whatever the case may be, I was miserable from the beginning. Super sick during the first trimester, and then so exhausted and emotionally drained that I was constantly in tears for the second trimester. And then once the belly started growing, I was in constant pain. My ribs hurt. My sciatic nerve hurt. I had horrible heartburn. My back hurt worse than normal and for a few weeks, I could barely lift a gallon of milk (let alone my heavy son) without crying in pain. I could only sleep sitting upright (due to the heartburn) and ended up sleeping on the couch for the last two months.

I finally saw a chiropractor for my back and sciatic and that helped quite a bit. But I still hobbled around the house most of the time, and avoided going anywhere because it was too hard to lift Bronson in and out of his car seat and in an out of the shopping carts. I was miserable and just wanted to be done being pregnant.

On October 18th, I was at home, probably working on one of my millions of nesting projects, when suddenly the thought came to me "My little girl will be here by November 18th". I don't know why that thought came to me at that time, but I have had similar experiences with thoughts like that before, and felt like it might be a tiny little revelation given to me to help me cope with the last month of my pregnancy. I felt peace and got excited as I thought about the arrival of my sweet daughter.

As November came, Jeff and I became even more antsy for little sister to come. We worked on projects around the house. (Well, Jeff sweetly did projects for me as I frantically pointed out things that HAD to be done.) And we talked about how cool it would be to have her on 11.11.11. I talked to my doctor about how soon he could induce me, and we scheduled the induction for 11.22.11. But deep down inside, I just knew that she wouldn't be coming on the 11th, and that she wouldn't make it to the 22nd.

I had an appointment with my OB on the 16th, and I was still only at a 2+, and 50% effaced. My doctor talked to me about the induction and seemed certain that it wouldn't happen before then. The next day, on the 17th, I started contracting. Just little sporadic contractions that kept coming all morning and afternoon. It was just like with Bronson. They kept coming, but sometimes they were an hour apart, and sometimes they were 20 minutes apart. Then I might have one or two that were 10 minute apart. Then another hour would go by before I felt anything. By that evening, I wasn't sure what we should do. It wasn't like we could just run up to the hospital, get checked, and go from there. I had to work around Bronson and his schedule and babysitters, etc.

Jeff was at work at McGrath's for the evening, but he was panicking and kept texting me to see how I was. I finally talked to him on the phone and told him to come home as soon as he could. We decided to finish Bronson's dinner, pack him up and take him up to his Nana Bryner's house for the night. That way we could go get checked and stay if we needed to, or come back and just take him home the next morning if it ended up that we weren't in labor.

So we got to the Bryner's, gave them instructions on Bronson (which, by the way, isn't easy when your child is on 3 different medications, plus has extra medications and special needs for his food and other allergies), and just chatted with the family. My father in law, a retired OBGYN, kept telling me that my contractions weren't close enough together. So I kept doubting my feelings that I was in labor and wondering if we should even go up to the hospital or if we should just wait and see how I was in the morning. But Jeff's mom and sister were adamant that I should at least get checked.

So we headed over to the hospital. I think that even the nurses first doubted me as I stood there calmly checking in and chatting with them. But they checked me. Still only a 2+ and 50% effaced. They had us walk around the halls of L&D for 45 minutes to see if that would change anything. So Jeff and I walked and walked and walked and walked. My contractions started getting harder and more painful and were now between 2 & 4 minutes apart. So when they checked me again and told me that I was still the same, I almost cried. I just knew that my doctor was going to send me home, but I also knew that my little girl was on her way. My nurse fought for me and tried convincing the doctor to keep me there for another hour at least, but he said that the induction was scheduled for Tuesday and that I needed to go home for the night. He told the nurses to give me a shot of Morphine to help ease the pain of the contractions. I was told that if it was false labor, it would stop the contractions completely, and I think my doctor thought that's what would really happen.

Well, all the morphine did over the next few hours was make me sleepy and loopy and even more miserable. We got back to the Bryner's house just after midnight. I was scared out of my mind because I was already in pain and KNEW that I was in labor, even if my doctor doubted me, and didn't know how I was going to know when to go back to the hospital. I was terrified of not getting back in time for an epidural. So again, my father-in-law gave me guidelines of how far apart the contractions should be and how long they should last. 3 minutes between and lasting at least one minute each.

So Jeff fell asleep on the floor and I sat in a big chair with oodles of pillows. I started timing the contractions. 8-10 minutes apart. Then 6 minutes apart. The morphine would knock me out between contractions, and then the pain of the next one would wake me up again. I was in tears. I was miserable and confused and scared. Finally, just after 4 a.m. the pain was so unbearable that I didn't care if the contractions weren't close enough together. I staggered into the family room where Jeff was asleep and told him that we had to go right then. He helped me to the truck and drove like a maniac through the avenues and back to LDS hospital.

As Jeff wheeled me back up to Labor & Delivery, the nurses at the desk all said they knew I would be back. They rushed me back into a room and told Jeff he could sign all the paperwork later. I almost couldn't even get my gown back on I was in so much pain, but I finally got it on, and they strapped me to the monitors. The nurse checked me. I was a 7. She said she'd get the anasthesiologist there right away, but we both knew he wasn't coming and that I wasn't getting an epidural.

The next thing I knew, there were what seemed like a million nurses in the room, and someone told me that my doctor wouldn't be there in time but that the on-call doctor would be right in. My body felt like it was on fire and that it was going to rip into pieces. I felt so much pressure and knew that my body was ready to push. I don't remember seeing anything else, just feeling intense pain and hearing myself scream. I've heard that when a woman is in labor without medication, the mind loses all reason. It's true. The nurses were telling me to hold my legs, pull them into my chest and push. But I kept pushing them back down, telling them that I needed to put my legs down and sit up. I kept crying out that I couldn't do this. I do remember seeing one nurse right in my face telling me "Jessie, you CAN do this, and you HAVE to do this."

I guess that seeing me like that scared my husband out of his mind... he later told me that he had a death grip on one of my legs and that he was pushing my head into my pillow with his other hand. Again, I don't remember anything except the pain. I finally started allowing myself to push. I felt the gush of my water breaking. I heard someone say that her head was coming and to keep pushing. Then I felt her fall right out of me and an enormous wave of relief washed over me. I heard her cry, and then there she was... this beautiful little angel, being placed on my bare chest. I sat and held her and stared at her. I think I was too stunned to even cry right then. All I could do was look at this tiny little girl in amazement. My little Cora was here!

My doctor arrived right then and finished things up. Don't worry, I wasn't nice to him. I let him know how unhappy I was that he sent me home and that as a result, I came back almost too late. Oh yeah, did I mention that had we left the house any later, she probably would have been born in the car. We checked back in at 4:45, and she was born at 5:08.

Now I can proudly join the club of women who can brag about giving birth naturally. But I don't EVER want to go through that again. I wasn't planning on it, it scared me to death, and it hurt more than I could have imagined. I love my drugs and will forever be grateful for modern medicine and for epidurals.

I survived, and we are both doing really well! She is such a pleasant and sweet little girl, which is such a blessing after Bronson being such a colicky and fussy baby. She sleeps well, has been eating well and even though she was so tiny when she was born, she is already putting on a little weight. And she is so beautiful! Honestly, I just stare at her and can't believe was a pretty little girl she is! Plus I can already tell that there is just this amazing little spirit about her. I am so excited that she is mine and that I have the pleasure of raising her and getting to know her and her little personality.

Bronson is also adjusting quite well to the new little person at our house. He is curious and will watch her and try to hit her or grab her leg or head. It makes him laugh when he does touch her. Most of the time he is fairly gentle, but occasionally he really whacks her on the head. But most of the time, he just ignores her and is content with me feeding and holding her as long as I read the books he brings to me.

I love my little family so much. While I was in the hospital, I missed my boys and could hardly stand to be away from them. I had intended to stay the full two days before going home, but Saturday morning I was almost in tears and knew that I just needed to be home. So I checked out that afternoon, and that night was the happiest night ever. Bronson was so happy to be back in his own home and have both of his parents there, and Jeff and I were so happy to be together and to have both of our beautiful children under the same roof.

With Thanksgiving being this week, I am so overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude. I am so thankful that my Heavenly Father has sent us these two beautiful spirits, and so thankful that everyone is healthy and doing well. We have a beautiful home in a wonderful neighborhood, with such amazing family, friends, and neighbors who want to help and support us! And I have the best husband a woman could ask for! He is such a great father, and such a support and help to me.

I am so blessed!