Surprise Arrival!
This is a long post. But many of you have asked about the story of Milo's arrival. So I wanted to take time to write it out, details and all. But for those who don't want to read the entire story with all the details, feel free to scroll through and just look at the pictures!
A lot of you were shocked to hear of his arrival...so were we! (After all, we were still 25 days out from his due date when he made his appearance). I had just gone to my 36 week checkup two days prior, all was healthy and well with baby and with me and there were no signs of early labor. At that appointment, the doctor said that I was 1 cm dilated, but honesty I knew I could be at that for several weeks before seeing any progress to labor. I had a long list of nesting projects I had been slowly working on and was hoping to finish before Milo’s arrival.
Thursday morning rolled around, I realized I was beginning to show signs of possible labor nearing, but still wasn’t too alarmed just yet, after all I was only in my 36th week, it never dawned on me that he could come early. I mentioned to Steve about these “signs” and told him not to worry, just wanted him to be aware of what was happening. He told me not to do anything that day, just to relax. But I wanted to nest! He went on with his work day, kids went to school and I continued my morning house chores, grocery shopping for the weekend ahead, dinner prep, etc. After my busy morning, I was standing there cleaning up the kitchen, doing dishes, listening to a podcast, and I noticed a trickle and thought to myself, I know I didn’t just pee my pants! But I was a little unsure what to think as I had never experienced my water breaking on its own (in my last two labors, doctors had to break my bag of waters for me). So I did what any gal would, I called a friend, haha! This friend had just recently had a baby here and is also currently a med student at the university in town, and she said it is most likely my water breaking. She advised me to consider going to the hospital but when I sounded hesitant to do that just yet, she urged me to go lay down and monitor anymore fluid leaks and that I still might want to consider going to the hospital. After laying down for an hour and a half, partly trying to rest and partly just checking emails on my phone, I noticed some Braxton contractions but nothing too significant. I even thought, maybe I should message a friend and ask her to be our "back up" to take care of kiddos (even if it were to happen in the middle of the night) in case I were to go into labor before my mom arrives. She responded, of course she would and then a moment later, asked, are you showing signs of labor?! I said, well possibly, but honestly I wasn't sure! I had never thought about having a back up plan for the older kids because my mom was coming in a few days (during what would be my 37th week of pregnancy) and again, it never occured to me that this baby could come earlier than at least 38 weeks (which is when all the others had been born). I also sent Steve a message at that point to tell him what was going on, but again, not to worry or rush home from his meetings. After resting there nearly two hours, I had a major gush of liquid happen and that’s when I knew I should probably go to a hospital to be examined. I called my doctor, he didn’t answer. So then I sent a text telling him what was happening. He called back within ten minutes and said I needed to go to the hospital right away to be admitted, especially because I’m considered preterm at that point. 37 weeks is the “full term” mark that is preferred for when a baby should arrive.
At that point, I called Steve and said we had to go to the hospital and so we needed to find somewhere for our kids to go for the afternoon. He had already left his meetings and was on his way to pick up kids from school. We made a few phone calls and had a plan for where the kids would go while we went to the hospital to be examined. At that point, I still wasn’t sure this was going to end with a baby that day, and I certainly didn’t feel ready either! But through tears welling in my eyes while talking to Steve, I made a quick lunch for the kids, fed them and then he took them off to our friends house while I finished putting things in a bag to take to the hospital (good thing I had started to pack my hospital bag after my 36 week appointment!) When I said goodbye to all the kids, we told them that we were going to go to the doctor to have them examine mommy and make sure baby was ok and they all happily went on their way with Steve. When Steve got home, we left for the hospital. In the car ride, we chatted about some things that needed to be tended to in regard to kids and their schedules; also laughing about how when I was in labor with Isaac headed to the hospital that Steve was on the phone with my brother discussing taxes (he is the accountant who does our taxes each year). You would never think, either time, that we were on our way to the hospital to have a baby!
Upon arriving at the hospital, after finally finding a parking spot, and having Steve take one final picture of me, we went inside to navigate the Polish hospital system. Which we had only done once before (at a different hospital when Isaac was sick three years ago with pneumonia). It became clear rather quickly that our limited knowledge of medical Polish was going to be a problem. They told us to wait in waiting room, I think until they could find someone who spoke English (good thing I wasn’t in active labor at that point). Leading up to this day, I knew the hospital experience could potentially be a source of frustration , so I tried to go in with a positive attitude and different expectations than I would have had in an American hospital. So when they sent us back out to the waiting room without a number (like on the waiting list), I started to get a little frustrated. I was ok waiting but they didn’t even bother to log us into the system as patients waiting to be seen. At this point, I called a friend who could come help translate. She showed up within 15 minutes and we went back to the receptionist and she helped us navigate the next steps. They finally gave us a number, to go back and wait some more in the waiting room until our number was called (in order of urgency basically). So there I stood in the waiting room, no extra clothes (except in our car parked down the street), just dripping fluid. I had no room for embarrassment at that point as my pants were pretty wet already, haha! After about 20-30 minutes, they called me back. They did a basic exam and ultrasound to check on baby. I was now 2 cm dilated, and a litmus test confirmed that it was my amniotic fluid that had been leaking. Fluid levels were low but they weren’t too concerned at that point of it being too low. Next, they wanted to hook me up to do a non stress test (NST) to monitor baby and contractions. So for the next 40 minutes that’s what I did. Meanwhile, Steve waited in the lobby so my friend could be in the room with me to help translate if I needed it.
After that NST, they determined that the baby was ok and contractions were minimal, so nothing too alarming. However, because I was only 36 weeks pregnant, and my bag of waters had broken, they advised me to be admitted (to be continually monitored and in order to administer antibiotics, as possible infection could harm both baby and me at this point not having the protective waters around baby). I almost didn't want to stay, but with Steve's urging (wise man he is), I was admitted. After processing all my information, they moved me upstairs to a room (and for all we knew at that point, could be my new room for the next week or more!)
We saw the Lord's hand at work in so many ways during this entire experience, and moving into that room was one of those ways. See, our language teacher has a sister who is a midwife at the hospital where I had planned to deliver. Back in the Spring when we found out that we were pregnant and had shared the news with our language teacher, she said that her sister would give us a tour of the hospital if we wanted (which is not a common thing to do here). And actually we had planned to tour the hospital that weekend...little did we know that I would be admitted as a patient instead before we ever got that tour! Anyway, so we went up to the room, her sister (the midwife) was the one assigned to care for me that first night. Our language teacher once told us, she can understand and speak English, but she probably won't (some people here aren't comfortable speaking English, even if they know how). But her sister, graciously mustered up the courage and spoke to me in English the entire time so that I would feel comfortable. This meant a lot to me, because my Polish is still not so fantastic (especially medical terms). After signing some more paperwork, I was ready to settle in for the evening. Steve left to go home and relieve our friend who was helping take care of the kids, and my friend who had come to translate left shortly after that. I was thankful to be settled in and sent out a few messages to family and friends to let them know what was going on. And in that message, I even said, it's a waiting game and who knows if he will come soon or in a few weeks time! I literally did not expect (nor was I prepared for) what was going to happen later that night.
I decided (after they had run the first round of antibiotics and monitored baby again) that I needed to try and sleep because they were going to come in again around 2:00 in the morning to run the next round of antibiotics. I was in a room alone, until I was about to go to bed, that's when another gal was admitted into the room. I fell asleep to the sound of her baby's heartbeat on the monitor. I woke up around 12:30 and still heard that heartbeat monitor and thought that was odd that they were still monitoring her, until I got up to go to the bathroom and realized there was another lady who had been admitted into the room while I had been sleeping and it was her baby's heartbeat now that they were monitoring. Shared hospital rooms was a new experience for me. When I laid back down, I realized I was having some regular contractions, but nothing was too intense, just regular. So around 1:00am, I decided to start tracking them on the app I had previously downloaded on my phone. Contractions were coming every 4-5 minutes apart. Around 1:30, I did notice them becoming more intense and realized that this was probably active labor starting. I didn't buzz the midwife because I knew that she would be coming in around 2:00 anyway. So I waited. I think around this time was when I messaged Steve and said, he probably should call our friend who said she would be our back up to come to the house and stay there with kids because I figured this was it. And I wanted him to at least be near the hospital for when they would move me into a labor room (because he couldn't come and be with me until I was in a labor room). The midwife came in at 2:00 and was hooking up the antibiotics to my IV, I told her about the contractions and said I think she needed to hook up the baby/contraction monitor again. She did that and for 30 minutes I laid there with the monitor hooked up. After the antibiotics finished, she came back, and looked at the slip of paper tracking everything and thought I should go to the exam room and have a doctor check if I was dilating. So I walked with her down the hallway to the exam room around the corner, where the doctor confirmed that I was now 3 and a half cm dilated. Her words were, "well, something is definitely happening, but there's no room in labor and delivery, so head back to your room for an hour and I will call down to labor and delivery and see what more I can find out". I kind of laughed to myself at this point and walked back to the room. The midwife told me, if your contractions get closer together, or feel more intense, hit the button. Almost immediately upon her leaving the room, contractions were intense. Like drastically more intense. I knew I was having this baby soon. I messaged Steve and said he needed to come quickly, that this baby was coming.
I didn't hit the button. I wanted to wait, after all they told me there was no room in Labor and Delivery, so what would hitting the button do (this was my thought process anyway, haha!). But I was in a lot of pain. I was also trying to be quiet and respectful of the two ladies in the room sleeping, so I silently leaned on the wall or would sit on the toilet in the bathroom trying to relax through the contractions. After about 30 minutes, I couldn't wait any longer to hit the help button. I hit the button, laid in the bed and another nurse came in the room, touched my leg and asked, "mocny"? (which is the Polish word for stronger). I responded yes in Polish and she quickly went and got the midwife who had been caring for me all night and they both returned rather quickly, helped change me out of pjs and into a hospital gown (of course this all took some time because I had like 3 or 4 massive contractions while they attempted to help me change clothes). Once I was changed, they grabbed my bag and put it on the bed and I grabbed my phone and charger. They wheeled me down the hall, into an elevator and to the delivery floor. It was at this point, I knew I was hitting the transition part of labor. I was moaning, shaking uncontrollably and started crying (thinking, where is Steve, I need my support, he's going to miss this baby's birth)! I later learned through our language teacher (because her midwife sister told her) that when they brought me to the Labor and delivery floor, the nurses there said, we told you there was no room, why did you bring her down, to which these ladies said, she's about to have this baby! Thank God for ladies who took matters into their own hands.
Once they got me into a room, contractions still coming quickly together and very intense. A nurse checked me, I was 8cm (so in just over a half hour I had gone from 3 and a half to 8 cm). This was rather shocking to me...I've never had fast labors, in fact Olivia's labor (our 3rd child) was longer than Isaac's (our second child). So anytime people would say during this pregnancy that I would probably labor faster with this being my fourth, I always laughed and said, probably not. Boy, was I wrong! The doctor on the floor that night, came in and confirmed, yes 8 cm. Then he tried to talk to me during a massive contraction, and I looked at him and said, "nie rozumium" (meaning, I don't understand) and he said, "ok, English? I can speak to you in English". Tak, tak, yes please! He said, you are 8 cm, a midwife will be in shortly to give you some gas to help relieve the pain and help to deliver the baby. I have only delivered 3 of our four babies naturally, and in the previous deliveries I did not have pain medication. I went into this delivery thinking it would be the same, as most moms I talked to in this country said it's not common to have an epidural, etc. So that is one thing I went into this delivery expecting, not to have pain medication. But when that doctor said they would administer some gas pain medicine, I was all for it! He also said, call your husband and tell him that you're in labor room 4, that way when he arrives, he will be able to find you. The doctor left the room. I called Steve between these strong contractions and he was just leaving the house! I didn't think he was going to make it. Thankfully, our house is only 15 minutes away and it was 3 something in the morning, so there was no traffic. He did confess later on that he may have broken a few traffic laws in the process of getting to the hospital!
What happened next was a surreal moment for me. No one was in the room, I was waiting for the midwife to come in, and Steve was on his way, and I just laid there in this hospital bed going from intense contraction to intense contraction all by myself. I even remember thinking, I'm laying in a bed in Poland, about to have a baby and I'm all by myself! The following moments went rather quickly...in that moment, all I could do was send Steve text messages saying "hurry" repeatedly. One of the last messages he sent was, "I'm in the elevator". So I knew he was close and I started yelling out his name, "Steve, Steve, Steve". Haha, I'm sure the people at the hospital were thinking I was crazy at that point! But I'm glad I did that, Steve said as soon as he exited the elevator, he heard me yelling his name and that helped him find labor room 4! I was starting to feel the need to push, nurses and midwife showed up into the room to set up for delivery, but no offer of pain relief medicine and I have to admit, I was disappointed, ha! But she knew that this baby was coming very shortly and it would all soon be over. Steve walked in, and the midwife was helping me get into a comfortable pushing position, Steve still trying to put on his hospital scrub gown (that the men/husbands have to wear in the delivery room). He told me later that when he arrived at the hospital, he had to buy the gown at the reception desk...so he was trying to wait patiently for the person in front of him to be taken care of and then spoke up and said his wife was in labor. They handed him the gown to change into and said their cash register was broken. He said he couldn't wait, so they didn't make him pay in that moment and he turned to head to the delivery room. The lady started yelling instructions at him about putting on the scrub gown before he entered labor and delivery, (this entire dialogue all in Polish). As he's frantically trying to put it on, a doctor comes around the corner asking, "are you Jenny's husband" and Steve said yes, the doctor responded, don't worry about getting it all on right now, get in there, she's about to have that baby. I was so relieved when Steve walked in the room!
I began pushing almost immediately after Steve arrived and within minutes, Milo was born! We later looked at our texts back and forth, and Steve made it within 10 minutes before he was born. Praise God! Milo was laid on my chest, he was quiet and I kept asking, is he ok? They all said, yes, he is. Praise God! After a while, they had Steve cut the umbilical cord and then took him to be weighed and examined by the pediatrician. The doctor said, everything was great with the baby and even though he was "late preterm" (premature), he was healthy. Praise God! They laid him back on my chest and finished examining me to make sure I was ok, and I was (and I did not not tear during delivery). Praise God! Milo was born at 4:48am on Friday, November 9. He weighed 5 pounds, 13 oz (2,6 kg). In hindsight, we are thankful that the night before, we made the choice for me to stay at the hospital, I'm not so sure we would have made it to the hospital in time to deliver him with the intensity and swiftness that labor had progressed! We weren't in that room too much longer before they moved us to a post delivery room. There were three other ladies in that room with their new babies as well.
I was in that room until they moved me to the room where I would remain until being discharged from the hospital. Because Milo was born premature, we had to stay three nights in the hospital (instead of the normal two nights) but again, every time he was weighed or examined, the report was "healthy". Praise God! Those three nights in the hospital were stressful in several ways because I was in a tiny room with two other mamas and their new babies. So trying to get any sleep was a bit of a problem, as you can imagine. But I was able to bond one on one with Milo during that time and navigate nursing a new baby again. During those three days, I was thankful for the hospital staff who worked to speak English to me and for visitors who came to see us during visiting hours (and for those who brought me food and treats so I didn't have to eat another meal stacked with potatoes!). I was also thankful for the many friends who were helping Steve with our other kids (which allowed him to come visit us) and for meals that were prepared for them.
On Monday, November 12, we were discharged and able to go home that afternoon. Steve dropped the kids off with some friends, came and picked us up and then we went back to get the older kids. Their initial reactions were sheer joy, shrieking with excitement and anticipation to get back home and hold their new baby brother. We got home, had kids get their pajamas on so they were in clean clothes (while I fed baby brother) and then they all took turns holding Milo. They were all instantly smitten, just like I was.
Milo just passed the two week old mark and the kids are still enjoying having him around and adjusting to our new normal fairly well. There have been some extra fits and frustrations at times, but overall, they are all very excited to have a baby brother. And I'm thankful for less soreness from nursing and a little longer stretch of sleep that he gave us last night between feedings! In Poland, a midwife visits your home once a week for six weeks post birth, to make sure baby is doing well and help with bathing baby, nursing assistance if you need it, etc. This would have been a fantastic help with my first child, but with this one, it seems kind of pointless. Milo had his first doctor check up last week and he has already surpassed his birth weight. So we are thankful that he's a good eater and continues to grow. Other than that doctor appointment, we haven't ventured out with him (with the weather getting colder and all the work it takes to bundle him up, I would just rather stay in). Next time we plan to leave the house with him is this week when we go to apply for his American passport!
My mom arrived on Wednesday, November 14, and has been so helpful with the baby, helping to care for the older kiddos and doing household chores. Not to mention, it's fun to catch up with her and talk together during the day while the older kids are at school. She has also been helping me finish all those "nesting projects" that I never got around to finishing before Milo arrived. We just celebrated Thanksgiving together (a day later) and now we look forward to putting up our Christmas tree and decorations this week and having her here for the holiday time, the older kid's holiday music and ballet performances and get to see Milo turn 1 and 2 months old before her return back to America. This is truly a blessing to our family. I've been enjoying watching our kids interact with Grandma (as I seem to be spending most of my time on the couch nursing a baby!), watching them make memories that are hard to make over a facetime call.
Since being home from the hospital, I have had a lot of time to process the entire birthing experience here. If you read my previous post, I mentioned that I was nervous and even a little hesitant to have a baby here in Poland. I did feel a peace from the Lord, calming those fears in the weeks leading up to his birth. I didn't find myself crippled by the fears that had been so prevalent at the beginning of my pregnancy. I had been asking God for his peace to rule in my heart and I know that so many of you had been praying for me specifically in that way, and for that I am super grateful AND I know that God was answering those prayers for peace to be with me during that entire experience. I felt it. I knew God had gone before me and already had Milo's birth day appointed. I knew that He would be with me, as he always is. My favorite thing about my previous birth stories (Isaac & Olivia's births) was the time during labor when Steve was with me, caring for me and offering the support I needed. (Karis was born via c-section and that was a very different experience altogether). This labor was so different. This time, I was all alone for almost the entire laboring process. There were several moments where I thought to myself, I can't do this! I even sent messages to Steve (and one other friend who just so happened to message me at the exact moment I was having some of these doubts, just to tell me that she was praying for me); I remember writing, "I can't do this"...to which they both responded immediately reassuring me that I could do it!
In the weeks since being home, the Lord has been faithful to show me, that most importantly He was with me the entire time. I was not alone. He was giving me the grace needed between and during each contraction. He is the one who loves me most of all. He is the one I need to depend on always. I have a tendency to want to lean on Steve "too much", almost in an unhealthy way. God used this experience to show me the tendency I have to cling to others for my strength rather than clinging to Jesus for my strength. Oh how I'm thankful for a Savior I can lean on, draw my strength from and know He will always be with me and he is always faithful. And I can be thankful for the good gifts he has given me (like my husband), but those good gifts can not and should not take the place He rightfully deserves in my heart and in my life. So I am truly thankful for a loving, supportive husband; but more so, I am thankful for the God who gave him to me. Also, with Milo's early arrival, the Lord continues to show me that He knows best, not me. That he is in control of what happens, not me. I have a tendency to hold too tightly onto my plan, often times forgetting that God’s plan is best. Everything about Milo’s arrival was surprising to me, but it wasn’t to the Lord. It has thrown me off my course and reminded me that I need to continually and faithfully be seeking the Lord and what He has set before me. To not be so set in my ways, but rather, follow Him. He is a faithful God, worthy of my full and wholehearted dependence. And just when I think I’ve learned this lesson in life, the Lord uses another one of life’s experiences to help peel back the layers of self reliance and self protection that I still fall so easily prey to in my life. I am truly thankful for this loving Father God who has redeemed me even when I least deserved it! Oh what mercy!
A lot of you were shocked to hear of his arrival...so were we! (After all, we were still 25 days out from his due date when he made his appearance). I had just gone to my 36 week checkup two days prior, all was healthy and well with baby and with me and there were no signs of early labor. At that appointment, the doctor said that I was 1 cm dilated, but honesty I knew I could be at that for several weeks before seeing any progress to labor. I had a long list of nesting projects I had been slowly working on and was hoping to finish before Milo’s arrival.
Thursday morning rolled around, I realized I was beginning to show signs of possible labor nearing, but still wasn’t too alarmed just yet, after all I was only in my 36th week, it never dawned on me that he could come early. I mentioned to Steve about these “signs” and told him not to worry, just wanted him to be aware of what was happening. He told me not to do anything that day, just to relax. But I wanted to nest! He went on with his work day, kids went to school and I continued my morning house chores, grocery shopping for the weekend ahead, dinner prep, etc. After my busy morning, I was standing there cleaning up the kitchen, doing dishes, listening to a podcast, and I noticed a trickle and thought to myself, I know I didn’t just pee my pants! But I was a little unsure what to think as I had never experienced my water breaking on its own (in my last two labors, doctors had to break my bag of waters for me). So I did what any gal would, I called a friend, haha! This friend had just recently had a baby here and is also currently a med student at the university in town, and she said it is most likely my water breaking. She advised me to consider going to the hospital but when I sounded hesitant to do that just yet, she urged me to go lay down and monitor anymore fluid leaks and that I still might want to consider going to the hospital. After laying down for an hour and a half, partly trying to rest and partly just checking emails on my phone, I noticed some Braxton contractions but nothing too significant. I even thought, maybe I should message a friend and ask her to be our "back up" to take care of kiddos (even if it were to happen in the middle of the night) in case I were to go into labor before my mom arrives. She responded, of course she would and then a moment later, asked, are you showing signs of labor?! I said, well possibly, but honestly I wasn't sure! I had never thought about having a back up plan for the older kids because my mom was coming in a few days (during what would be my 37th week of pregnancy) and again, it never occured to me that this baby could come earlier than at least 38 weeks (which is when all the others had been born). I also sent Steve a message at that point to tell him what was going on, but again, not to worry or rush home from his meetings. After resting there nearly two hours, I had a major gush of liquid happen and that’s when I knew I should probably go to a hospital to be examined. I called my doctor, he didn’t answer. So then I sent a text telling him what was happening. He called back within ten minutes and said I needed to go to the hospital right away to be admitted, especially because I’m considered preterm at that point. 37 weeks is the “full term” mark that is preferred for when a baby should arrive.
At that point, I called Steve and said we had to go to the hospital and so we needed to find somewhere for our kids to go for the afternoon. He had already left his meetings and was on his way to pick up kids from school. We made a few phone calls and had a plan for where the kids would go while we went to the hospital to be examined. At that point, I still wasn’t sure this was going to end with a baby that day, and I certainly didn’t feel ready either! But through tears welling in my eyes while talking to Steve, I made a quick lunch for the kids, fed them and then he took them off to our friends house while I finished putting things in a bag to take to the hospital (good thing I had started to pack my hospital bag after my 36 week appointment!) When I said goodbye to all the kids, we told them that we were going to go to the doctor to have them examine mommy and make sure baby was ok and they all happily went on their way with Steve. When Steve got home, we left for the hospital. In the car ride, we chatted about some things that needed to be tended to in regard to kids and their schedules; also laughing about how when I was in labor with Isaac headed to the hospital that Steve was on the phone with my brother discussing taxes (he is the accountant who does our taxes each year). You would never think, either time, that we were on our way to the hospital to have a baby!
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| I stopped outside the hospital and asked Steve to take a picture of me, just in case it was my last picture in this pregnancy. I was supposed to have a maternity photo shoot two days later but I never made it to that photo shoot! |
Upon arriving at the hospital, after finally finding a parking spot, and having Steve take one final picture of me, we went inside to navigate the Polish hospital system. Which we had only done once before (at a different hospital when Isaac was sick three years ago with pneumonia). It became clear rather quickly that our limited knowledge of medical Polish was going to be a problem. They told us to wait in waiting room, I think until they could find someone who spoke English (good thing I wasn’t in active labor at that point). Leading up to this day, I knew the hospital experience could potentially be a source of frustration , so I tried to go in with a positive attitude and different expectations than I would have had in an American hospital. So when they sent us back out to the waiting room without a number (like on the waiting list), I started to get a little frustrated. I was ok waiting but they didn’t even bother to log us into the system as patients waiting to be seen. At this point, I called a friend who could come help translate. She showed up within 15 minutes and we went back to the receptionist and she helped us navigate the next steps. They finally gave us a number, to go back and wait some more in the waiting room until our number was called (in order of urgency basically). So there I stood in the waiting room, no extra clothes (except in our car parked down the street), just dripping fluid. I had no room for embarrassment at that point as my pants were pretty wet already, haha! After about 20-30 minutes, they called me back. They did a basic exam and ultrasound to check on baby. I was now 2 cm dilated, and a litmus test confirmed that it was my amniotic fluid that had been leaking. Fluid levels were low but they weren’t too concerned at that point of it being too low. Next, they wanted to hook me up to do a non stress test (NST) to monitor baby and contractions. So for the next 40 minutes that’s what I did. Meanwhile, Steve waited in the lobby so my friend could be in the room with me to help translate if I needed it.
After that NST, they determined that the baby was ok and contractions were minimal, so nothing too alarming. However, because I was only 36 weeks pregnant, and my bag of waters had broken, they advised me to be admitted (to be continually monitored and in order to administer antibiotics, as possible infection could harm both baby and me at this point not having the protective waters around baby). I almost didn't want to stay, but with Steve's urging (wise man he is), I was admitted. After processing all my information, they moved me upstairs to a room (and for all we knew at that point, could be my new room for the next week or more!)
We saw the Lord's hand at work in so many ways during this entire experience, and moving into that room was one of those ways. See, our language teacher has a sister who is a midwife at the hospital where I had planned to deliver. Back in the Spring when we found out that we were pregnant and had shared the news with our language teacher, she said that her sister would give us a tour of the hospital if we wanted (which is not a common thing to do here). And actually we had planned to tour the hospital that weekend...little did we know that I would be admitted as a patient instead before we ever got that tour! Anyway, so we went up to the room, her sister (the midwife) was the one assigned to care for me that first night. Our language teacher once told us, she can understand and speak English, but she probably won't (some people here aren't comfortable speaking English, even if they know how). But her sister, graciously mustered up the courage and spoke to me in English the entire time so that I would feel comfortable. This meant a lot to me, because my Polish is still not so fantastic (especially medical terms). After signing some more paperwork, I was ready to settle in for the evening. Steve left to go home and relieve our friend who was helping take care of the kids, and my friend who had come to translate left shortly after that. I was thankful to be settled in and sent out a few messages to family and friends to let them know what was going on. And in that message, I even said, it's a waiting game and who knows if he will come soon or in a few weeks time! I literally did not expect (nor was I prepared for) what was going to happen later that night.
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| My hospital room once I was admitted on Thursday evening (this was before I got two room mates later that evening) |
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| Monitoring baby and any contractions before I went to sleep |
I decided (after they had run the first round of antibiotics and monitored baby again) that I needed to try and sleep because they were going to come in again around 2:00 in the morning to run the next round of antibiotics. I was in a room alone, until I was about to go to bed, that's when another gal was admitted into the room. I fell asleep to the sound of her baby's heartbeat on the monitor. I woke up around 12:30 and still heard that heartbeat monitor and thought that was odd that they were still monitoring her, until I got up to go to the bathroom and realized there was another lady who had been admitted into the room while I had been sleeping and it was her baby's heartbeat now that they were monitoring. Shared hospital rooms was a new experience for me. When I laid back down, I realized I was having some regular contractions, but nothing was too intense, just regular. So around 1:00am, I decided to start tracking them on the app I had previously downloaded on my phone. Contractions were coming every 4-5 minutes apart. Around 1:30, I did notice them becoming more intense and realized that this was probably active labor starting. I didn't buzz the midwife because I knew that she would be coming in around 2:00 anyway. So I waited. I think around this time was when I messaged Steve and said, he probably should call our friend who said she would be our back up to come to the house and stay there with kids because I figured this was it. And I wanted him to at least be near the hospital for when they would move me into a labor room (because he couldn't come and be with me until I was in a labor room). The midwife came in at 2:00 and was hooking up the antibiotics to my IV, I told her about the contractions and said I think she needed to hook up the baby/contraction monitor again. She did that and for 30 minutes I laid there with the monitor hooked up. After the antibiotics finished, she came back, and looked at the slip of paper tracking everything and thought I should go to the exam room and have a doctor check if I was dilating. So I walked with her down the hallway to the exam room around the corner, where the doctor confirmed that I was now 3 and a half cm dilated. Her words were, "well, something is definitely happening, but there's no room in labor and delivery, so head back to your room for an hour and I will call down to labor and delivery and see what more I can find out". I kind of laughed to myself at this point and walked back to the room. The midwife told me, if your contractions get closer together, or feel more intense, hit the button. Almost immediately upon her leaving the room, contractions were intense. Like drastically more intense. I knew I was having this baby soon. I messaged Steve and said he needed to come quickly, that this baby was coming.
I didn't hit the button. I wanted to wait, after all they told me there was no room in Labor and Delivery, so what would hitting the button do (this was my thought process anyway, haha!). But I was in a lot of pain. I was also trying to be quiet and respectful of the two ladies in the room sleeping, so I silently leaned on the wall or would sit on the toilet in the bathroom trying to relax through the contractions. After about 30 minutes, I couldn't wait any longer to hit the help button. I hit the button, laid in the bed and another nurse came in the room, touched my leg and asked, "mocny"? (which is the Polish word for stronger). I responded yes in Polish and she quickly went and got the midwife who had been caring for me all night and they both returned rather quickly, helped change me out of pjs and into a hospital gown (of course this all took some time because I had like 3 or 4 massive contractions while they attempted to help me change clothes). Once I was changed, they grabbed my bag and put it on the bed and I grabbed my phone and charger. They wheeled me down the hall, into an elevator and to the delivery floor. It was at this point, I knew I was hitting the transition part of labor. I was moaning, shaking uncontrollably and started crying (thinking, where is Steve, I need my support, he's going to miss this baby's birth)! I later learned through our language teacher (because her midwife sister told her) that when they brought me to the Labor and delivery floor, the nurses there said, we told you there was no room, why did you bring her down, to which these ladies said, she's about to have this baby! Thank God for ladies who took matters into their own hands.
Once they got me into a room, contractions still coming quickly together and very intense. A nurse checked me, I was 8cm (so in just over a half hour I had gone from 3 and a half to 8 cm). This was rather shocking to me...I've never had fast labors, in fact Olivia's labor (our 3rd child) was longer than Isaac's (our second child). So anytime people would say during this pregnancy that I would probably labor faster with this being my fourth, I always laughed and said, probably not. Boy, was I wrong! The doctor on the floor that night, came in and confirmed, yes 8 cm. Then he tried to talk to me during a massive contraction, and I looked at him and said, "nie rozumium" (meaning, I don't understand) and he said, "ok, English? I can speak to you in English". Tak, tak, yes please! He said, you are 8 cm, a midwife will be in shortly to give you some gas to help relieve the pain and help to deliver the baby. I have only delivered 3 of our four babies naturally, and in the previous deliveries I did not have pain medication. I went into this delivery thinking it would be the same, as most moms I talked to in this country said it's not common to have an epidural, etc. So that is one thing I went into this delivery expecting, not to have pain medication. But when that doctor said they would administer some gas pain medicine, I was all for it! He also said, call your husband and tell him that you're in labor room 4, that way when he arrives, he will be able to find you. The doctor left the room. I called Steve between these strong contractions and he was just leaving the house! I didn't think he was going to make it. Thankfully, our house is only 15 minutes away and it was 3 something in the morning, so there was no traffic. He did confess later on that he may have broken a few traffic laws in the process of getting to the hospital!
What happened next was a surreal moment for me. No one was in the room, I was waiting for the midwife to come in, and Steve was on his way, and I just laid there in this hospital bed going from intense contraction to intense contraction all by myself. I even remember thinking, I'm laying in a bed in Poland, about to have a baby and I'm all by myself! The following moments went rather quickly...in that moment, all I could do was send Steve text messages saying "hurry" repeatedly. One of the last messages he sent was, "I'm in the elevator". So I knew he was close and I started yelling out his name, "Steve, Steve, Steve". Haha, I'm sure the people at the hospital were thinking I was crazy at that point! But I'm glad I did that, Steve said as soon as he exited the elevator, he heard me yelling his name and that helped him find labor room 4! I was starting to feel the need to push, nurses and midwife showed up into the room to set up for delivery, but no offer of pain relief medicine and I have to admit, I was disappointed, ha! But she knew that this baby was coming very shortly and it would all soon be over. Steve walked in, and the midwife was helping me get into a comfortable pushing position, Steve still trying to put on his hospital scrub gown (that the men/husbands have to wear in the delivery room). He told me later that when he arrived at the hospital, he had to buy the gown at the reception desk...so he was trying to wait patiently for the person in front of him to be taken care of and then spoke up and said his wife was in labor. They handed him the gown to change into and said their cash register was broken. He said he couldn't wait, so they didn't make him pay in that moment and he turned to head to the delivery room. The lady started yelling instructions at him about putting on the scrub gown before he entered labor and delivery, (this entire dialogue all in Polish). As he's frantically trying to put it on, a doctor comes around the corner asking, "are you Jenny's husband" and Steve said yes, the doctor responded, don't worry about getting it all on right now, get in there, she's about to have that baby. I was so relieved when Steve walked in the room!
I began pushing almost immediately after Steve arrived and within minutes, Milo was born! We later looked at our texts back and forth, and Steve made it within 10 minutes before he was born. Praise God! Milo was laid on my chest, he was quiet and I kept asking, is he ok? They all said, yes, he is. Praise God! After a while, they had Steve cut the umbilical cord and then took him to be weighed and examined by the pediatrician. The doctor said, everything was great with the baby and even though he was "late preterm" (premature), he was healthy. Praise God! They laid him back on my chest and finished examining me to make sure I was ok, and I was (and I did not not tear during delivery). Praise God! Milo was born at 4:48am on Friday, November 9. He weighed 5 pounds, 13 oz (2,6 kg). In hindsight, we are thankful that the night before, we made the choice for me to stay at the hospital, I'm not so sure we would have made it to the hospital in time to deliver him with the intensity and swiftness that labor had progressed! We weren't in that room too much longer before they moved us to a post delivery room. There were three other ladies in that room with their new babies as well.
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| Moments after Milo arrived! |
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| Milo getting examined post delivery |
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| Our little man |
I was in that room until they moved me to the room where I would remain until being discharged from the hospital. Because Milo was born premature, we had to stay three nights in the hospital (instead of the normal two nights) but again, every time he was weighed or examined, the report was "healthy". Praise God! Those three nights in the hospital were stressful in several ways because I was in a tiny room with two other mamas and their new babies. So trying to get any sleep was a bit of a problem, as you can imagine. But I was able to bond one on one with Milo during that time and navigate nursing a new baby again. During those three days, I was thankful for the hospital staff who worked to speak English to me and for visitors who came to see us during visiting hours (and for those who brought me food and treats so I didn't have to eat another meal stacked with potatoes!). I was also thankful for the many friends who were helping Steve with our other kids (which allowed him to come visit us) and for meals that were prepared for them.
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| Our only child born with a full head of hair, and dark hair too! |
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| Waiting in the post delivery room for them to move us to a more permanent room and admiring our new son! |
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| My amazing friend, Roma...she was the one who helped translate for us when I was admitted and visited me several times during my hospital stay, bringing many goodies for this new mama to enjoy as well. |
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| Steve's first time to hold Milo, he never ended up holding him right after he was born because he felt dirty because he had just thrown clothes on in a flash and rushed to the hospital so he didn't want to hold him right after birth. |
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| My good friend, Estella, came to meet Milo at the hospital. She was also the amazing friend who came in the middle of the night to stay with our kids and then help get them all off to school the following morning! |
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| When we tell the birth story to people, Steve always jumps in and says that I never complained once about the hospital or never had a negative attitude. While I appreciate his words, and I do try not to be a complainer, that is just not entirely true! This face is the face of a woman who was fed up with all the crying (from other babies) at some crazy time in the middle of the night, while I snuggled Milo in order to keep him from waking up from all the noise! |
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| Milo-Post bath in the hospital-he had like three baths during our stay in the hospital and they always did them at around 8:00pm at night. |
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| Snoozing in his little bed next to me. |
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| My friend Marta came to meet Milo - she was also super helpful with our kids while I was in the hospital so that Steve could come visit me. |
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| These next two pictures are for all my American friends! Polish Breakfast: hot tea, fruit, tomato, boiled egg, (GF) bread and some mysteries spread for my bread! Also, in hospitals here, you bring your own water (cup and utensils), hence the big jug of water on my night stand! |
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| Lunch (which is the biggest meal of the day in Poland) usually consisted of potatoes in some format, a slice of meat, slaws of some sort, compot drink and a soup or broth. |
On Monday, November 12, we were discharged and able to go home that afternoon. Steve dropped the kids off with some friends, came and picked us up and then we went back to get the older kids. Their initial reactions were sheer joy, shrieking with excitement and anticipation to get back home and hold their new baby brother. We got home, had kids get their pajamas on so they were in clean clothes (while I fed baby brother) and then they all took turns holding Milo. They were all instantly smitten, just like I was.
Milo just passed the two week old mark and the kids are still enjoying having him around and adjusting to our new normal fairly well. There have been some extra fits and frustrations at times, but overall, they are all very excited to have a baby brother. And I'm thankful for less soreness from nursing and a little longer stretch of sleep that he gave us last night between feedings! In Poland, a midwife visits your home once a week for six weeks post birth, to make sure baby is doing well and help with bathing baby, nursing assistance if you need it, etc. This would have been a fantastic help with my first child, but with this one, it seems kind of pointless. Milo had his first doctor check up last week and he has already surpassed his birth weight. So we are thankful that he's a good eater and continues to grow. Other than that doctor appointment, we haven't ventured out with him (with the weather getting colder and all the work it takes to bundle him up, I would just rather stay in). Next time we plan to leave the house with him is this week when we go to apply for his American passport!
My mom arrived on Wednesday, November 14, and has been so helpful with the baby, helping to care for the older kiddos and doing household chores. Not to mention, it's fun to catch up with her and talk together during the day while the older kids are at school. She has also been helping me finish all those "nesting projects" that I never got around to finishing before Milo arrived. We just celebrated Thanksgiving together (a day later) and now we look forward to putting up our Christmas tree and decorations this week and having her here for the holiday time, the older kid's holiday music and ballet performances and get to see Milo turn 1 and 2 months old before her return back to America. This is truly a blessing to our family. I've been enjoying watching our kids interact with Grandma (as I seem to be spending most of my time on the couch nursing a baby!), watching them make memories that are hard to make over a facetime call.
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| Milo's going home outfit! |
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| Steve carrying Milo to the car, picture taken outside the entrance to the hospital where he was born. |
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| Karis snuggling Milo |
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| I told Isaac to give me his, "I'm so happy to have a new brother" face, and this is what he did! |
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| Olivia is now a big sister! |
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| Grandma arrived two days after we came home from the hospital and although she was sad to miss his actual arrival, she was so happy to finally be here and get to hold him. |
Since being home from the hospital, I have had a lot of time to process the entire birthing experience here. If you read my previous post, I mentioned that I was nervous and even a little hesitant to have a baby here in Poland. I did feel a peace from the Lord, calming those fears in the weeks leading up to his birth. I didn't find myself crippled by the fears that had been so prevalent at the beginning of my pregnancy. I had been asking God for his peace to rule in my heart and I know that so many of you had been praying for me specifically in that way, and for that I am super grateful AND I know that God was answering those prayers for peace to be with me during that entire experience. I felt it. I knew God had gone before me and already had Milo's birth day appointed. I knew that He would be with me, as he always is. My favorite thing about my previous birth stories (Isaac & Olivia's births) was the time during labor when Steve was with me, caring for me and offering the support I needed. (Karis was born via c-section and that was a very different experience altogether). This labor was so different. This time, I was all alone for almost the entire laboring process. There were several moments where I thought to myself, I can't do this! I even sent messages to Steve (and one other friend who just so happened to message me at the exact moment I was having some of these doubts, just to tell me that she was praying for me); I remember writing, "I can't do this"...to which they both responded immediately reassuring me that I could do it!
In the weeks since being home, the Lord has been faithful to show me, that most importantly He was with me the entire time. I was not alone. He was giving me the grace needed between and during each contraction. He is the one who loves me most of all. He is the one I need to depend on always. I have a tendency to want to lean on Steve "too much", almost in an unhealthy way. God used this experience to show me the tendency I have to cling to others for my strength rather than clinging to Jesus for my strength. Oh how I'm thankful for a Savior I can lean on, draw my strength from and know He will always be with me and he is always faithful. And I can be thankful for the good gifts he has given me (like my husband), but those good gifts can not and should not take the place He rightfully deserves in my heart and in my life. So I am truly thankful for a loving, supportive husband; but more so, I am thankful for the God who gave him to me. Also, with Milo's early arrival, the Lord continues to show me that He knows best, not me. That he is in control of what happens, not me. I have a tendency to hold too tightly onto my plan, often times forgetting that God’s plan is best. Everything about Milo’s arrival was surprising to me, but it wasn’t to the Lord. It has thrown me off my course and reminded me that I need to continually and faithfully be seeking the Lord and what He has set before me. To not be so set in my ways, but rather, follow Him. He is a faithful God, worthy of my full and wholehearted dependence. And just when I think I’ve learned this lesson in life, the Lord uses another one of life’s experiences to help peel back the layers of self reliance and self protection that I still fall so easily prey to in my life. I am truly thankful for this loving Father God who has redeemed me even when I least deserved it! Oh what mercy!
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| This was taken on the day that Milo would have been 38 weeks in my belly...also the week I was anticipating his arrival since that's when our other three kids arrived during those pregnancies. |
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| Our language teacher couldn't wait to come meet Milo and came a week after we brought him home. |
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| Milo also had a visit from our friends and ministry partners here in Poznań. I'm sure he will love his new ciocia and wujek, (auntie and uncle) just like we do! They also were the people who helped care for our kids the day I was admitted to the hospital and several other times after during my stay there so Steve could come visit. *There are several other people we don't have pictures of, that helped out by taking a kid or two during those four days, and we are so thankful for all of you who jumped in to help us when we needed it most! |
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| Pictured in his carseat, just after arriving to the doctor's office for his first check up. |
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| And here we are present day (well a couple days ago as Milo got to celebrate his first Thanksgiving in the cute Thanksgiving outfit grandma brought for him!) |
More to come on our adventures now as a family of SIX! Thanks for stopping by, I hope you enjoyed reading about our newest little addition to the family. And to those who helped us out in so many ways over the past few weeks and have prayed for our family...we say a BIG THANK YOU! We could not have done this without y'all.
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