The Final Birth

One of my favorite parts of giving birth is going over the birth story over and over again in my head.  I enjoy re-living the anticipation, the highs and lows, and finally that moment where I got to meet the latest addition of our family.  But this birth story has been hard for me to write.  I've had a birth go differently than hoped before and I've had a birth go exactly as I hoped.  But this is different altogether.

The weeks leading up to Genevieve's birth were tough.  I am older this time.  I never imagined that I would be pregnant at 37.  And this was a third pregnancy.  I started having regular contractions at around 30 weeks, nothing regular at first and then they worked themselves into a pattern of starting every night around 7:00 and stopping after a bath before bed.  On top of the contractions and the general difficulties of the end of pregnancy, our website went through some really tough spots.  We went almost a week without being online.  And yet, God provided a fix for this less than a week before I went into labor.  As I was living through all of this, I imagined that this would be what my birth story would revolve around.  But it's not.

It was a Thursday.  I had a mother/daughter brunch at Ainsley's school.  It was the last thing that I wanted to do before I had this baby.  I went to school that morning and didn't realize that it was the National Day of Prayer.  Ainsley's school had a worship service that lasted over an hour.  I stood for the whole thing.  Prior to that, I think standing for 5 minutes was my max.  But I kept thinking that it would be over in 5 minutes so I didn't ask for a chair.  The brunch was amazing and a wonderful time to celebrate Ainsley.

That night I dropped Ainsley off at dance class and she was going to be picked up by a friend for dinner.  David and I went to Chipotle to get dinner for the rest of us.  As is the case typically at dinner time, we stood in line for about 45 minutes.  We got home that night and ate dinner.  Ainsley was dropped off by her friend's dad and the rest of us ate our dinner.  As I finished, I told Ryan that I thought I might be in early labor.  The contractions that started at 7:00 were different, much more intense and much more patterned.  He asked me what he needed to do and I said, just get the kids to bed.  8 minutes.  It took him 8 minutes to get them to bed when it normally takes him 45.  Woot!

I called my my mother in law, midwife, and my doula.  Everyone had prepped me that this labor was going to go fast since David's was only 3 hours.  When we couldn't get in touch with Ryan's mom I began to freak.  We called the neighbors and created a back up plan.  But this labor was going much more routine than either of my other 2.  My contractions were building in a steady pace but not too fast.  We located my mother in law and my doula came over.  We took a walk and being on my feet seemed to keep the contractions going.  I got in the shower, as per my midwife's advice, and they really built.  We decided now was the right time to go to the hospital.  I kissed my sleeping children goodbye and we went into Genevieve's room and prayed over what was to come.  That time was sweet and helped me center myself for the work ahead.

When we got to the hospital, my contractions had all but stopped.  I checked in with the nurse and my midwife.  I was not going home.  I hadn't progressed any from my appointment the day before but we decided that since I was there it might be a good time to get my membranes stripped.  This had worked with David so it was worth a shot.  We decided to get checked in and get an IV put in.  I was Group B Strep positive so I was going to need antibiotics as soon as possible.  They put us in the same room that we had when David was born.  It was so familiar. I had my membranes stripped and my midwife set up the tub as Ryan, Mary (my doula), and I began to walk the halls.  As long as I was standing up, my contractions kept going.  When I sat down they all but stopped.  So I stood.

At this point, I had my antibiotics dripping and I was in the shower.  I was managing my contractions really well.  Ryan, Mary, Tanya (my midwife), and Kristy (my nurse) were all just sitting around watching me labor and small talking.

I got out of the shower and Tanya decided it was a good time to break my water.  I was 8cm and I just needed a final push to go through transition.  I had a couple contractions and then it was clearly time to get in the tub.

So I transferred into the tub and my body just really took over. Ryan held my hand as I worked through these harder contractions. I remember Tanya saying something about moving my hips to help get baby into a better position.  I have no idea what she said for me to do, but my body just did it.   With each contraction I kicked a leg out here or rotated there and within 45 minutes, I was fully dilated and ready to push.  And I pushed for 3 minutes.  2 contractions.  It was a hard 3 minutes.  That crap burns and hurts.  They don't call it the ring of fire for nothing.  But I had her out.  I was in so much of a zone that Tanya had to yell at me to look down and see my baby.

And then we met Genevieve.

She was so chill.  Not screaming or crying.  Just looking at us.  It's one of the beauties of water birth. The babies come out with such a smooth transition.  Her apgar scores were 7 and 8.  She was pinking up and doing well.  They decided it was time for me to get out of the tub and so they transferred Genevieve to Ryan's chest.

And that's where it went different.  And my life changed before my eyes.  And I will never be the same.

Within a minute of Genevieve being put on Ryan's chest, she stopped breathing.  Completely stopped breathing.  He quickly called over the nurses and they wisked Genevieve to the baby warming station.  Remember I'm still in the tub so I can't really see what's going on.  And then Tanya turns and looks at me.  Calmly she says to me, "Your baby is having some trouble breathing.  We are going to call the NICU team in.  There is going to be a lot of people in here really soon.  Just hold on."  And she turned to the wall and hit the NICU button.

20 seconds.  It took 20 seconds for the doors to fly open and rush of people to come in.  They took over immediately.  All I heard was someone saying "6 minutes since birth.  7 minutes since birth.  8 minutes since birth.  9 minutes since birth.  10 minutes since birt., 11 minutes since birth."  Ryan was there watching the whole thing.  Mary was at my shoulder, holding my hand and praying.  I don't know what she prayed.  But it was clear that she was petitioning to our Heavenly Father to please save this little baby girl.

And then Genevieve cried.  It was the sweetest sound I've ever heard in all of my life.  She was ok.  She had made it through.  And so had we.  Those were the hardest 5 minutes of my life.

We don't know why it happened.  Genevieve spent the next 72 hours in the NICU trying to figure it out.  There was a possibility that the Group B Strep infection had passed to her.  But the cultures all came back clear.  The best explanation I have received is that sometimes babies just don't transition well.  It had nothing to do with the water birth.  It had nothing to do with me being Group B Strep positive.  I didn't do anything that caused it.  It just happenes sometimes.

Because she was in the NICU for so long, we extended my stay at the hospital.  The time in the hospital was not what I imagined.  There were very few visitors.  We don't have wonderful hospital pictures.  We are missing the one of her being weighed for the first time.  Ainsley and David couldn't meet her until she came home.  I missed out on some precious skin to skin time in our room.  I was able to breastfeed in the NICU but it was in a chair behind a curtain.  Not very bonding.  When I think about those 72 hours, I just get sad.

Thinking back over her whole birth, the glorious empowerment that it could have been is gone.  Her birth is about minutes 6 through 11.  Those 5 minutes felt like an eternity.  After the losses we have gone through, I couldn't imagine losing a baby at full term.  And yet graciously, God answered those prayers that Mary prayed while I sat in that tub.  Those prayers were heard.

And for me, Genevieve's birth is wrapped up in prayers.  We prayed for her before she was conceived.  We prayed for her during my pregnancy.  We prayed for her during labor.  We prayed for her after she was born.  We will continue to pray for her.

Because of all of those prayers, I have given these verses to her birth story.  Because it's true.  We prayed for her.  And she is not ours.  She is His.

27 For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him.28 Therefore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.”

1 Samuel 1:27-28

Genevieve Jane Krumroy

Naming children has never been an easy task for Ryan and me.  I come up with a list and Ryan vetos.  He can't commit until we have the baby.  And then once I have gone through labor, I tell Ryan what I want to name the baby and he gladly agrees as a courtesy since I've done all the work.  

Unlike when I was pregnant with David, we decided to find out the sex of this last baby.  Because I'm old, insurance covered the Harmony test and we found out at 12 weeks that this baby is a girl.  We were in the parking lot of Ainsley's school when we opened that envelop and saw the words "Female Fetus".  With that, I looked at Ryan and said...I get my Genevieve Jane!  He said he wasn't so sure.  And I said, I was and that he would get used to it.

Ever since I started seriously looking at baby names 7 years ago, I have loved the name Genevieve.  But when we were pregnant with Ainsley, I was determined that her middle name would be Elizabeth.  It's my mom's name.  It's my middle name.  And it would be my 1st daughter's middle name.  Pairing that with Genevieve would just be mean. So I passed and waited.  And then David was boy.  So I waited some more.  I kind of figured I would end up having a dog named Genevieve. But at 12 weeks, I was given the gift of the name I've always wanted.

Growing up, I didn't have a lot of grandparent interaction.  My maternal grandfather died before I was born.  My maternal grandmother died when I was 3.  And my paternal grandfather died when I was in 3rd grade.  That leaves my paternal Grandmother, GiGi.  She was a huge part of my childhood and early adulthood.  Her name was Janet, a name I didn't love.  But her mother's name was Genevieve.  She died a month after I was born. I just know that my GiGi would be so thrilled to know that her great granddaughter carried her mom's name.

Genevieve Crooks - 10/5/1882 - 12/5/1977

The perfect pairing with the long name Genevieve is Jane.  Ryan grew up with some fantastic grandparents.  His maternal grandmother, Jane, just died a few years ago.  Ryan has so many great stories from her and his grandpa.  They were truly fantastic grandparents.  And when I came into the picture, Grams welcomed me with open arms and treated me as her own.  On her death bed, I was pregnant with David.  I got to tell her that if he was a girl, the middle name would be Jane.  David ended up being David and so we waited. But God blessed us with another girl.  And I got to fulfill my promise to Grams.  Her name would be passed.

Jane Taylor - 10/17/1919 - 08/21/2011

After everything we have been through, I was starting to give up on the dream of a 3rd child and my Genevieve Jane.  But now we have our own Genevieve Jane.  I plan on framing these 3 pictures together in her room.  What a legacy.

"For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition that I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the LORD. As long as he lives, he is lent to the LORD.” - 1 Samuel 1:27-28

He's Going to be a Swimmer

Welcome to the world David Ryan.  If you don't want to read the full birth story, I would suggest you skip this entry.  I won't get too graphic but I do have to post one picture that is worth 1000 words.

On Sunday January 8th, I went to bed and was starting to contract.  I was contracting pretty consistently at 6 minutes apart but they weren't gettting any stronger.  And then they stopped around 4 am.  I woke up in the morning and went to the bathroom.  My pants were a little wet and I figured I might be leaking a little fluid but since I was not contracting anymore, I let it go.  I went to work on January 9th and worked my full day until 2:30.  I came home and laid down on the couch and set Ainsley up with 2 Veggie Tales videos.  Everytime I got up I leaked a little more.  I knew at this point that my water was broken but I still wasn't contracting hard enough or consistent enough to be in active labor. 

I was super bummed.  This is exactly how my hell of a labor started with Ainsley and I knew the road.  It led to pitocin and an epidural and an epic long labor.  I was so disappointed.  I actually waited until 7:00 to call the midwives and they asked me to come in to check if indeed my water was broken. 

Ryan and I decided to send Ainsley and Tucker to Grandma's house and do a few things around the house.  We put 7 boxes together for our business and I took a shower.  The shower seemed to spur a few more contractions.  My doula, Mary, arrived around 9:00.  After evaluating the situation, we decided to take a walk around the neighborhood to see if we could get contractions moving.  It was a full moon and foggy outside.  It was so still and eerie.  I have to say that this walk changed my mood.  I was ready for whatever came my way.  We took a few minutes and prayed over what was to come.  What a gift to have a doula who loves the Lord like we do!

We left for the hospital around 10:30 and I finally got seen by the midwife at 11:30.  She quickly determined that yes indeed my water had broken.  But I was at 4 cm and so they were going to give me some time before putting me on pitocin.  She did strip my membranes though which apparently was the right thing to do at the right time.  I turned a corner and was in active labor.  We really wanted to have a water birth so I hurried Ryan into setting up the tub.

After an hour of contractions in labor and delivery my midwife, Virginia, checked me again and I was at 7.  I was beginning to shake and entering transition.  We moved positions and things got dramatically more intense.  My midwife asked if I wanted to be checked before getting in the tub.  I didn't.  I just said, let's get in there. 

For some reason I had it in my head that it was going to be much easier in the tub. Oops.  Not so much.  It was really hard but I knew there was no turning back.  There was going to be no epidural and this baby was going to be born in the water.

It was at this point that they wanted to get another heartrate check on the baby.  They used 4 different monitors and 3 different nurses and couldn't find it for 45 minutes.  While I just wanted them to go away and forget it, Ryan was freaking out.  I was in a bit of a different state of mind than he was.  Finally, 3 minutes before he was born, they found the heartrate and quickly got away.

And then the moment came when he entered the world.  He was born in the water and I grabbed him and flipped him over to realize he was a BOY!  You can actually see him under the water in this shot!

After 3 hours of active labor, baby David came into the world at 2:25am on January 10th, 2012.  He weighed 9lbs 2oz and was 20 inches long (which is a lot bigger than 7lb 10z Ainsley was).

I can't tell you how proud I am of myself for doing this naturally.  It was so hard but so worth it.  We are already so in love with this little boy.  I never pictured myself as a mother of a little boy but I must say that it is AWESOME!

I Love My Doula

I have eluded to my birth before, but I wanted to talk about my experience in relation to having a doula. I gave you my doula's perspective a bit ago with our birth story and I think its equally as important to give you my perspective of her role in the birth of Ainsley.

For the first half of my pregnancy, I firmly stated that I wanted the epidural early. I didn't want to feel anything, I just wanted my baby. It was about the mid point that we went to the child birthing class at the hospital. I began my journey of learning more about birth. At first I was frightened. I was still set on the drugs. By the end of the class, I began to feel differently. I was beginning to realize that this was what God designed my body to do. Birth was meant to be experienced and not just survived. I changed my tune. I wanted to be a part of the most important day of my baby's life.

I still had fear. I wanted to be able to give birth from a position of confidence, not fear. We began to think about doulas. We were given a name of a local doula who was early in her practice. Being who we are, we thought that this might be a more inexpensive way to go than the most experienced doula. God used that lapse of judgement for our benefit. I called Mary on a Sunday afternoon and she and I immediately "clicked". I felt as if I knew her from the start. She was such an advocate for God's plan. I knew she knew my Jesus and I knew I wanted her there for the birth of our daughter.

She met with us extensively before the birth. She tried to prepare us for what was to come. She encouraged us to read some great books. She looked up scriptures for me. She was giving me the confidence I needed to really be involved in the birth process. I felt good about what was to come.

The week I was in labor (I consider the prelabor that I experienced to be part of that week), Mary was never far. We spoke regularly on the phone. We emailed. We were very in touch. She coached me through the beginning contractions over the phone. She told me to rest. She just encouraged me. I felt very loved.

As the week progressed and it became obvious that this was "it", she was there. She came over at 3:00 in the morning as we were having contractions at home. She used many great doula techniques to help ease the back labor that I was experiencing. She regularly helped me keep my focus on our baby. She gave Ryan and I space to experience this process as a couple and stepped in when we needed more support.

At the hospital she did all those things as well. She helped us through some rough decisions. She helped me to read the signs my body was giving. She helped me decide the appropriate times to call for interventions. This was hard for me since I had the idea of doing this 100% naturally. She helped me to realize that taking Pitocin and an epidural isn't the end of the world and that I wasn't a failure for doing so. I was doing what was best to ensure a healthy mom and a healthy baby.

As we pushed for hours and felt like days with little progress, Mary encouraged both Ryan and I to continue to trust on Jesus. My body was doing what it needed to do. Our baby was just a short time away from arriving.

As Ainsley arrived, Mary was the one that captured the early pictures. She aided us in our initial bonding experience. I don't remember much of that time but I do remember that it was exactly as I wanted it. I remember feeling complete. I remember feeling empowered. I remember feeling like I had experienced this life changing moment and I would be forever bonded to the people in that room.

Since Ainsley's birth, I have continued to be loved by Mary. She is a member of our family now. Nothing will ever change that. She loves us and we love her. I know this for sure, the first call outside the family if I get pregnant again will be to Mary. I couldn't imagine it any other way.

Ah the Memories

On Wednesday night, our friends Jason and Leah welcomed a new son into the world, Logan Thomas. He is so adorable and little. He looks just like his Dad.



Last night, Ryan and I arranged with Papa B to come watch Ainsley as we went to the hospital to visit them. When my sisters had their babies, we always lived too far away to go to the hospital. It was such a fun experience to be on this side of a birth.

As we sat in the hospital room, visiting this new family, I couldn't help but think back to our experience. Having a baby is one of the most exciting things that can ever happen in one's life, and yet the process seems to blur so quickly. It has only been 4 months and yet it seems like a lifetime ago. I was asking Ryan about specifics of our experience and neither one of us can remember.

For our birth, Ryan and I hired a doula. It was one of the best decisions that we made. Not only did she help us through our extremely long labor process, but she also wrote out a birth story for us. I have to warn you, it's long. It would have to be for the 32 hour labor that I had. For those of you who would like to read it...Here it is