Babies - Just Before, During, and after Birth

My daughter, when she was waiting for her water to break, and getting very impatient for things to progress to motherhood, went in for the aggressive birth management, called stripping. This is when the nurse, takes her finger and swipes the area in the cervix in between the baby and the cervix to get things rolling for labor. Now, mind you, as a new mother to be, this seemed like an answer to prayers. However, it's not a cure all, and the first two times did not have much effect on her dilation of her cervix.

The third visit to the doctor, was during a time where there was one doctor on call, several people who were scheduled for inducements, and one doctor out on sick time. Well, this third visit proved to be a blessing, as someone did not show up for their inducement. Their doctor asked them if they had any 'plans' for the day, as - for the moment, they had a few moments to get her in for preparation.

I got text messages throughout the day, explaining what stage she was in. Her husband was keeping me informed, since my daughter was busy... smile...

Well. This was it. The nurse stripped the cervix for the last time, and noticed a small finger next to the head. She gave it a good pinch and it disappeared back into the depths of where it came from.

Along with the discomforts of labor, and getting ready for the epidural, and it wasn't long, and the head appeared, and my daughter was told that she should wait for a second, don't push quite yet. Ready, set go. Then, my granddaughter was delivered.

I got a phone call, late at night, telling me that the baby was okay. She was okay. That my husband and I needed to come to the hospital, the next day, to meet their newborn. Since she woke me up, she wouldn't tell me any details, like name, weight, etcetera. No. We had to wait until the next day. My husband was wide awake now, and wishing he knew what it was, so he could relax and go back to sleep. In time, we both fell back to sleep and woke up in the morning, knowing that we were going to meet our new baby, as my husband grumped, "Whachamacallit."

Because we did not know what time to arrive at the hospital, we waited for our daughter to call us. And, she did, wondering when we were going to show up. By this time, my husband was outside, making logs into firewood chunks and stacking them up. I pulled him away from all of that and we headed to the hospital.
As we entered the room, our daughter was smiling and her husband was holding the baby on his chest. All were content and happy. The baby had a lot of hair and was sleeping. We were asked if we wanted to hold the baby, and then, we were told her name was Autumn Rose.

I picked her up and was amazed at how tiny she was, her little fingers a mini version of her parents hands. It's amazing how functional they are. After a while, her eyes opened up, and she fixed her eyes on my face. She studied me, I studied her...

I think we can be friends, we decided. I smiled. She smiled.

Then, my husband held her. Then, her father held her. Then, her mom decided it was time to try to feed her, so we excused ourselves to leave for home. We both had a good feeling about the meeting. It was wonderful to know that she was finally here, and healthy and seemingly, a good baby.

Very proud to be her grandparents!

As we were chatting, my daughter and her grandma, were chatting about their labors, and they both had easy births. Get to the hospital, and in little or no time, had a baby to hold.

My daughter's experience wasn't all rainbows and butterflies, as when they stripped her membrane for the last time, the baby reacted by putting its hand on its head. It must have hurt.

She mentioned that when the finger showed up, they, the hospital staff, were concerned that they needed to move that finger, since having it next to the head, would cause the baby's arm to break during birth, and that was not desirable.
It occurred to me, since I look at life a little differently, that it must have been quite a jolt for the baby. Can you picture this: you are in a small, cramped space, and at some point, something hard pokes you in the head. It hurts, so you put your hand up to rub and hold your head, and something pinches your finger, and you pull it back, quickly. Then, you wonder what the heck is going on.

Can you imagine being someone that is inside you and has been listening to you for nine months, and has been trying to make contact with you, by poking and prodding the inside of your uterus. Can you imagine, how exhausting it must be, for a fetus to try to get your attention. Kind of like someone trapped in a cave, who hears rescuers outside... just to get poked in the head and pinched by whatever is outside the hole they are trying to go into.

How confident do you suppose the baby is, by that point, that it's safe to proceed with birth?

It doesn't happen very often, that four generations are alive at the same time. It isn't true in this circumstance, as my mother has been dead since she died in her early sixties of cancer, but, for the sake of the photo, we decided it didn't matter and we were going to get the four generation picture with the four women in the family who were here.

So, we had the baby, my daughter, myself and my husband's mom for the photo.