Stella James

Birth was always something that scared the crap out of me, but having gone through it three times, it’s one of the only things in life that has made me feel strong and superhero-like, and has given me a newfound respect for the human body.  Just as each of my three pregnancies were unique to each child, each of my three children came into this world on their own terms and in completely different ways.  I have no doubt that I’ll grow old one day and my memory will fade, but ask me about any of my births, and I bet money that I will be able to recall each of them with such detail as if it were yesterday.  Some experiences are so riveting that they just stay with you.

As I sit across from my tiny sleeping 10-week old baby, I’m still marveling over the details of her birth over two months ago, still fresh in my mind like yesterday.  Stella James is such a beautiful, happy soul.  As my third daughter, she’s extremely content and very much loved by her sisters, her parents, and everyone that meets her.  She is showered with plenty of attention in our home, she’s got her dad’s heart in the palm of her tiny hand, and the big kids just love her so much.  She is our sweet, miracle baby, and we truly can’t imagine life without her.  This is her story.

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I woke up on February 23rd just as I had been waking up everyday that week: sore, achy, exhausted from my multiple late-night bathroom trips, and with no signs that labor was anywhere near happening.  I was 10 days past my “due date,”and I was starting to get nervous about being getting more pressure to schedule an induction.

Two days prior, I had visited Labor and Delivery for a routine non-stress test to ensure that it was safe for baby to stay in put for a while since I had passed on being induced at 41 weeks.  Just as I thought, the house doc and nurses were pleased with how good everything looked – amniotic fluid looked great, baby’s heart rate was normal, and she seemed to be thriving.

“You have a very happy baby and she’s definitely going to be a swimmer – you guys better invest in a pool,” the doctor told us.  (Hint hint, Marty).  We all had a laugh as I walked out of Labor and Delivery, at 41 weeks and 1 day pregnant – the longest I had ever gone with any of my three pregnancies.

At this point, I had been home from work for over a month, and instead of heading out to do some shopping that Monday morning, I decided to take it easy and relax before my acupuncture appointment later that day.  I also had an appointment to see my OB, and I was mentally preparing to have the dreaded induction talk again.  So I parked it on the couch and turned on some bad reality TV (Confession: It was Teen Mom.  Please don’t judge me.)

I’ll spare the details on the next part, but basically when I got up a little later to grab a bite to eat, I noticed some signs that my water had broken.  I called Marty, then called my doctor to let her know what was going on.  Apparently there was high-five-ing at my OB’s office when I let them know the news, and they advised me to pack up and head to Labor and Delivery.  It was finally happening!

It felt so strange packing a bag and thinking I was having a baby that day when I wasn’t in any sort of pain whatsoever.  When I had Everly and Milly, I had hours of intense contractions at home before we even thought about going to the hospital so I had a feeling that this was definitely going to be a different experience.

Marty sped home in frantic-mode -as if we hadn’t ever done this before – and I totally gave him the side-eye while he paced the house mumbling about “Stuff to bring..”  Duh, it’s packed and by the door, dummy.  Yes, I have a clean shirt for you and deodorant.  Hello.

We were checked into Labor and Delivery and admitted to our labor room immediately.  We relaxed and chatted with our labor nurse as she got everything set up and touched base with my OB over the phone. Since my contractions weren’t really progressing as fast as she was hoping for , we started a low-level pitocin drip to kickstart things.  After a few hours of not-so-fun, intense contractions, my OB showed up and checked me.  I was 3 cm and it was close to 6 o’clock in the evening.  She suggested I get my epidural and said she thought I’d probably deliver around 10 pm.

By the time my pain relief kicked in (Hallelujah!), my family arrived with the girls.  As soon as I heard their tiny voices as they entered the quiet room, my emotions got the best of me and things finally became very real.  I was going to give them their sister today. As much as I didn’t want them to see me upset, the tears flowed and I couldn’t stop them.

They climbed up on my hospital bed and hugged me, touched my face, wiped my tears away, rubbed my hair.  Everly looked around and inspected all of the IVs, the wires, the medical equipment.  She was very curious about what was going to happen but we assured her I was in good hands and going to be OK.

I’ll never forget Milly putting her arm around me and telling me, “It’s OK Mommy, don’t worry, you’re gonna be OK.”  Her sweet little face in that moment was everything and something forever engrained in mind.  Their being by my side was everything to me; they were my angels that day, my light.

As it got closer to the kids’ bedtime, we decided it would be best for them to go get rest and come back first thing in the morning.  It was sad to see them and my parents go, but I knew it was for the best, and I didn’t want to keep them out and awake when they were sleepy and starting to get worried about their mom.

Around 9, I called my nurse to check me since I was starting to feel a lot of pressure.  When she realized I was 10 cm dilated and fully effaced, she left in a hurry to call my Dr.  When she returned shortly afterward, she immediately turned off my Pitocin.

“Dr. K is down the street at St. John’s and just started a C-section, so she told me to have you sit tight and she’ll try to be here in 30 minutes, OK?”  Um, OK.  Not what I was expecting.  I could tell that I was ready to go, but did my best to just try and relax.  I was ready to push and my doctor was with another patient, at another hospital?

After about 25 minutes, I was sure my Dr. was not going to make it, but before I could call for the house doc, in she walked with two nurses behind her who immediately started prepping the room for delivery.

“Well alright,” she said with a smirk.  “Let’s get this baby out, ok?  10 minutes, how does that sound?”  Sounded like a sweet deal to me. (Note: Last time a nurse challenged me to pushing a baby out in 6 minutes, I did in 4 minutes.  Refer to Milly’s birth story if you don’t believe it).

Before I could answer her, the nurses and Marty grabbed my legs and that’s when things started to happen very quickly.  I gave it everything with that first push.  The next part was such a furious, electric blur.  I remember being coached to push, then to breathe, breathe, breathe, then “Look at that!  She’s got her eyes wide open, Erin!  Those eyelashes!”  I swear, the room was buzzing, pulsating; all my senses in the moment were so in tune with the fact that there was suddenly new life in the room, one that hadn’t been there a moment before.

I heard Marty’s voice calling me from afar, even though he was right next to me.  “Evee, look down!  Look down! Look what you just did!”  I listened and leaned up and there was the tiniest little head with a full head of hair right within my reach.  We all started laughing, and one more push and she was with with us, Earthside at last, at 9:33 pm – just five short minutes since the Dr. arrived.

Before I could ask, she was placed on my chest and once again that familiar weight, the perfect heaviness of one of my own, was imprinted on my soul.  It’s one of those unexplainable, magical moments that no words can really describe.  She looked right into my eyes and I was so thankful to have her and just so proud. Stella James, I told her, was her name.  She was perfect in every way.

We held her there, skin-to-skin, for the longest time.  Her eyes were glued to mine as I snuggled her and told her all about her two big sisters that were so excited to meet her.  It was so peaceful and calm in the room, just Marty and I, soaking in her sweetness in the dim light.

I’m so grateful that I was able to keep her so close during those first moments, and I’m so grateful that the nurse grabbed Marty’s phone and captured the images in the whirlwind of her being born.  Despite it being so late, and our Labor and Delivery nurse working overtime that night, she was in no rush to take her from us and let us enjoy her and soak in her newness.  We had no idea what she weighed, how tall she was – we just knew she was healthy and she was ours, here at last.

Hours later, we finally gave her to our labor nurse to be weighed and for her first bath.  She was 7 lbs, 15 oz, and 21 inches long.  She came into the world with a full head of thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes.  At first, we thought she looked just like Milly, but now we see a lot of resemblance to Everly too.

She was born on February 23rd, 10 days past her due date, 2 days after my Mom’s birthday and just 2 1/2 hours shy of being born on my Dad and sister’s birthday.  I truly do not believe I was “overdue” and am so happy that she was able to choose her own birthday, just as my other two daughters did.

As we drove home from the hospital two days later to start our life as a family of five, Marty decided to turn on some music.  I immediately recognized the song that was playing; it was the same song that was playing in our house when I found out I was pregnant with Stella.  Ever since that day, I’ve always known that was Stella’s song, and trust me, I can’t listen to it without tears flowing (thanks postpartum hormones).

I never really knew what my purpose was supposed to be in life until I had children.  Although there were plenty of tough times during my three pregnancies, I believe that being able to carry life is a privilege, and I am so incredibly grateful for my three babies and for every moment that I was able to feel them kick and roll in my pregnant belly, as well as every ounce of pain it took to push their perfect little bodies into this world .  I feel so lucky that these three special girls chose me to be their Mom and as crazy as things can get sometimes, I love it and wouldn’t trade it for the world.  I’m certainly not the best mom in the world and most definitely far from perfect, but I’m their mom and that’s the most important job I’ll ever have.

We love you so much, Stella.  You are the perfect addition to our colorful, happy, and sometimes (who am I kidding, most of the time)  crazy family.  Our three girls’ smiles and shining light make Marty and I better versions of ourselves, and we can’t wait to experience the world and “do life” with them.  We hit the jackpot in the awesome kid department, why yes we did.  God is pretty amazing. 🙂

Love,
E

Read Everly’s birth story here and Milly’s birth story here.

Stella’s Song – ALO: I Wanna Feel It

Story of a Little Girl

As my three-week old daughter naps next to me, I can’t stop staring at her sweet little face and thinking back on those last few days of pregnancy, when it seemed like I’d never get the chance to meet her.  Little did I know, that chance would come 7 full days after my due date passed.  This is the story of her birth.

It was Election Day.  I forced myself out of bed and into the shower, upset at waking again with no signs of labor, but thankful that I’d be able to vote.  This was a particularly meaningful day because it was six days past my due date.  Since Everly was six days late, I never thought this baby would go past that.  Everyone said that second babies usually came earlier.  I was so over the calls and texts from friends and family that all said the same thing.  “Where’s that baby?”  “Are you STILL pregnant?” and “Anything happening yet?”  I knew they all meant well, but it hurt to not have the answer they wanted to hear.  After a good cry and a lunch date with my sister, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself, and  spent the rest of the day running errands and tying up loose ends.

40 weeks and 5 days pregnant. 2 days before I went into labor.

When I went to bed that night, I noticed feeling a little off, but chalked it up to stress.  I woke up around 3:30 with jolts of pain that shot through my lower abdomen.  Although it wasn’t comfortable, I smiled and quietly told Marty that I was pretty sure I was in labor.  I spent the rest of the early morning hours awake in bed, trying to get through each contraction as best as I could.  An ultrasound the day prior had shown that baby was back in a posterior presentation (not an ideal position for birth), so I was content with trying some different yoga positions to encourage her to rotate.  Around 6 am, I heard the familiar pitter patter of little feet padding down the hallway and heard her call my name in her sleepy voice: “Mommy?”  It was just who I was expecting and exactly who I wanted to see.

A tear slid down my eye as I pulled her up into bed with me.  I was so grateful for this peaceful morning moment with her, possibly one of the last moments of just having her all to myself, my one and only child.   I was in pain but that was the only person, aside from Marty, that I wanted next to me during this.  She snuggled in between us and fell back to sleep running her fingers through my hair, as she always did, while I did my best to get through the contractions.

By 10 am, I noticed my contractions were really starting to pick back up.  I had been able to get up with Ev and make her her morning chocolate milk and cinnamon toast, but things were starting to get a little past the point of comfort, and I did not want Ev to see me in any sort of pain.  I would sneak into another room when I felt a contraction coming on so she wouldn’t see me doubled over and trying to make it through the waves of excruciating pain that slammed into me with force every few minutes.

At that point, my contractions weren’t following any sort of specific pattern yet, so we weren’t quite sure what was going on.  They would be 15 minutes apart, then 10 minutes apart, then 2 minutes apart, then 15 minutes apart, and so on.  Deep down, I knew this was typical for a posterior labor, which was what I was desperately afraid of.  If baby was still posterior, I knew I was in for a long, painful labor.  We decided it was best for Marty’s mom to pick Everly up and take her for the day, in case things got serious.  After she left, there were tears.  Watching her from the window, it was a like she grew up a little in that moment.

I spent the next few hours drinking raspberry leaf tea, bouncing on a birth ball, and trying some different positions to encourage baby to rotate.  Finally, after l had done everything I could to encourage baby to turn anterior, and when I was pretty sure that things were really picking up speed and intensity, we decided to head to the hospital.

Despite being an overcast, misty afternoon, Marty and I were both filled with butterflies at the anticipation that we might have a baby today.  As we drove to the hospital, he reached over and squeezed my hand.  I swallowed and tried to breathe through the contractions, knowing what was ahead of me.  Stand By Me played softly on the radio and I said a prayer that God would keep us all safe and help me bring our little girl into the world, whichever way she was meant to be born.

We were admitted around 3 pm.  About a half hour later, my sister showed up and sat with me through the contractions as we waited.  About an hour and a half later, my nurse still couldn’t tell if the baby was posterior, but I decided it was finally time for some pain medication.  My epidural was administered (and then re-administered when the doctor was too close to a vessel) around 5 o’clock; afterward a cervical check broke my water and revealed that I was about 4 cm dilated.

Finally at the hospital, contracting, and waiting.

Around then, things really picked up and that’s when I don’t exactly remember the specifics.  I just know that I went from about 4 cm to 7 cm within minutes.  Despite getting my epidural about a half hour prior, I was still feeling intense pain and so anesthesiology was called back to take another look.

I remember crying out from the pain and seeing my parents arrive.  Before long, my doctor arrived.  “What are you doing here already?” I asked.  “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here already?’” she laughed.  “You’re about to have this baby in a few minutes.”

She checked me and it was confirmed.  I was complete: 10 cm dilated and 100% effaced.  Right after I was checked, I started to feel a ton of pressure on my bottom and knew it was time.  There wasn’t going to be an opportunity to fix my epidural, it was time to push.  My doctor paged that we needed a baby nurse immediately, and the room blurred as things were set up and instruments were prepped around me.

When my doctor mentioned that it only took 12 minutes of pushing the last time, the nurse joked, “Well now you have to beat that and push this baby out in 6 minutes.”  I wasn’t joking when I told her I would.  One practice push later, I could feel how low my baby was, and my nurse told me that we were going to have a baby any minute.  I remember pushing through the pain, and then hearing “OK stop pushing now!”  The baby was crowning with her hand on her face.  After she was adjusted, I didn’t have to wait for instructions for that last final push.

Amelia June came into the world at 6:40 pm, on Wednesday, November 7^th,  after a long labor and just four minutes of pushing.  I felt a flood of relief and forgot every second of pain I endured as her tiny body was placed on my chest.  Just as when Everly was born, it was the craziest and most magical moment of our lives.  Marty and I were both at a total loss for words as we met our second daughter for the first time.  It was unbelievable and unforgettable, and just as our family expanded in that very moment, our hearts also grew tremendously.

7 lbs, 12 oz, 21 inches long, and 100% perfection.

After some bonding time with the three of us, we opened our room up to our close friends and family who were waiting outside.  I looked into the group until I saw her familiar face.  Marty picked Everly up and brought her to my side to introduce her to the baby sister that we had been talking about for so many months.

I gave Everly the biggest hug and buried my face in her curls, breathing in her familiar scent and trying my best to hold back tears.  It was the greatest feeling having her right there by my side and all of us finally being together as a family.

The Buehler girls meet.

The four of us, together at last.

There only a few things in life that I am greatly proud of.  Topping that list is most certainly creating and growing these two beautiful children, using my body as a vessel to carry and nourish them throughout pregnancy, and every second of agony endured in birthing them and bringing them into this world.  It is such a great pleasure and privilege to be their mother.

There are many significant moments in life that will forever be sealed into my memory – that feeling when I ripped an envelope open to reveal my college diploma, the day Marty nervously slipped a ring on to my shaky finger at the top of Art Hill, how I desperately clutched my father’s arm as I peeked into the crowded church on that beautiful day in May, and how my whole life changed as I sat on the edge of my bathtub and read that first positive pregnancy test.  But through all my years, I will never forget feeling of the wonderful weight of both my babies being placed on my chest on the days that they were born.

Everly and Amelia are my greatest joys, and being their mother is such an honor that I have been blessed with.  Sometimes, I just can’t believe that this is my life.  Amelia so perfectly fits into our family in a way that we never even imagined.  We are fiercely, madly in love and incredibly thankful.  This is our story, this is her story, yet this is only the beginning.

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
-Dr. Seuss

Love,
E

Read Everly Grace’s birth story here.

Everly Grace’s Birth Story

Finally I get to write the post that I’ve been dreaming about for the past ten months – the day that we had been waiting for.

Everly Grace has finally decided to come join us and make our family complete.  After 10 months of pregnancy, 16 hours of labor, and the past four days of non-stop staring and pondering over every inch of this little angel that is our daughter, Marty and I are completely speechless when it comes to describing what our lives are like now.  If anything else ever mattered to us before, it is now completely insignificant and incomparable to the overwhelming sense of LOVE that has taken over.  I’m so happy to finally tell you the story of Everly Grace’s birth.

I had woken up Monday night around 3 am with painful contractions.  We weren’t alarmed, since this had occurred the past two nights and had not resulted in anything.  After I wasn’t able to sleep through them, Marty was awake and was helping me get through them as they occurred every fifteen minutes.  When every fifteen minutes turned into every 10 minutes around 5 am, I had Marty go out to sleep on the couch so that he could get some rest.  There was no sense in both of us being up, and I was confident that I could get through them on my own.

Each contraction got stronger, and I found myself in every position trying to alleviate the pain and breathe through each one.  Thank God that I spent the past year developing my breathing and concentration with yoga, because I don’t know how I would have gotten through those hours without that.  By 7 am, the birthing ball and breathing techniques had done all that they could and I went out to the living room to wake Marty and have him let his boss know he wasn’t coming into work.  I knew that we were going to have this baby today.

I spent the next two hours trying to get some last minute stuff done around the house, packing my hospital bag, and even managed to get a shower in.  By 9 am, my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart, and I couldn’t walk or talk through them.  Earlier we had wondered if this was a false alarm, since my contractions had seemed a little inconsistent and didn’t always follow the same pattern, but now we knew we had to leave.

By the time we made it to the hospital, I was checked in Triage and immediately admitted to Labor and Delivery.  I was 3 cm. dilated and 95% effaced.  The nurse was shocked watching my contractions literally go off the charts and couldn’t believe that I had labored at home on my own with the intensity and frequency that they were occurring.  I had back-to-back contractions while my epidural was administered and didn’t even feel a thing.

After that, I tried to get a little rest as Marty called our parents and best friends to tell them that this little girl was on her way.  I said a few prayers, asking God to keep myself and the baby safe and protected, and asked for strength to physically do what I needed to do to bring this baby into the world.  I had never been scared until this point, when I knew it was right around the corner and anything could happen.

After the house doctor came and broke my water, she checked me and I was 8 cm. dilated and 100% effaced.  My doctor was called and would be coming to the hospital when I was 10 cm. dilated, so we closed off the room so that I could get some rest.

Marty sat with me as I tried, unsuccessfully, to sleep.  I broke down and sobbed to him that I was afraid and started doubting myself.   He listened to my ridiculous fears and held me as he let me have the cry and vent that he knew that I needed.  Thank God he was there with me.  I couldn’t imagine going through this without a partner to bring you back up.  He kept telling me everything was going to be OK and that he knew I could do this, that he knew that I was more than capable of this and kept reminding me that we were going to finally meet our daughter soon.

By the time I was 9 ¾ cm. dilated, I had been feeling intense pressure and pain down low.  The house doctor checked me and said that they baby’s head was already extremely low in the birth canal, which was probably the source of the pain.  I got a top-off of the epidural and waited for the relief.

When the pressure intensified and the epidural top-off did nothing to alleviate the pain, we called for our nurse.  Ten minutes (and no nurse) later, I started squeezing Marty’s arm and begging for my doctor.  The pressure was so intense and I had an overwhelming urge to push.  I kept saying “Where’s my doctor? I’m going to have this baby right now, I swear to God!”

Marty started getting upset, he had already called for the nurse a second time and she still wasn’t there.  He was about to get up to get someone when my doctor walked in.  When I told her I was about to push this baby out and she checked me, things started happening really fast.

“Where the heck IS your nurse?” she asked me.  Before I knew it, my feet were in the stirrups, two nurses hurried in the room, and I was begging to push.  My doctor wheeled in a table with her supplies, the nurses frantically got busy prepping me.  Between the hustle and bustle of things and my verbal demands to push, a sink overflowed and started flooding the delivery room.  The rest was a bit of a blur.

I pleaded with them to push, telling them I HAD to.  My body was taking over now, and I had no choice.  When they finally gave me the OK to start, I gave it my all.  The pain was excruciating, but there was no going back.  I had to make my body do whatever it needed to do to get this baby out.

The contractions were still coming back-to-back, so I would do three big pushes and then get a 20 or 30 second break in between to try and catch my breath.  By the time she was crowning, I was so exhausted but knew I was so close.  By the time her head was out, I did one more push and my doctor pulled the rest of her out.  Within only twelve minutes of pushing, Everly was born and was immediately placed on my chest, skin-to-skin.

All I saw were big beautiful eyes, staring directly at me.  I swear she looked right into my soul that very moment.  I’ve never felt anything like in my entire life, nor will I ever forget it.  It was in that moment that I wondered how people could ever question if there is a God, because she was living proof.

Even though she was covered in fluids I couldn’t help wrapping my arms around her and holding her as I cried like I never have cried before, dripping tears all over my tiny pink baby’s back.  She truly was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen.  Marty and I hugged and cried, thanking each other for her.  It was the most defining moment in both of our lives.

And so it was… This little bug popped into our lives and nothing else would ever be the same.  We can’t stop looking at her, touching her soft skin, inhaling her sweet scent, and looking deep into those blue eyes and wondering how the two of us made something so perfect.  Forgive us if you don’t see or hear from Marty or I in a while, we’ll be busy falling in love with our new precious daughter.

Everly Grace Buehler

August 3, 2010

8 lbs., 9 oz.

Born at 6:03 pm at Missouri Baptist Hospital