• Rashida

Parker's Birth Story

Updated: Aug 5


As I have stated probably too many times, I do not love being pregnant and of course, P’s pregnancy was extra hard on me mentally. Maybe it was the nine months of feeling sick. Maybe it was not having enough energy to chase my toddler around. Maybe it was THE FREAKING PANDEMIC!! If I’m honest, I think a lot of it had to do with being pregnant with a girl and me being a girl without her mom. 


Regardless, Miss P has been in our lives for over a month now and it feels like she’s always been a part of this crew. 


Miss Parker came in like a straight-up wrecking ball. If you’ll recall we had a bit of a scare at 33 weeks when I couldn’t stop contracting and dilated to two centimeters. Fast forward to June 5th at my 36-week appt. I was 36+5 exactly, hadn’t made much additional progress, and damn was I ready. My first came at 37 weeks so my tolerance to go beyond that was low. My doc and I decided we’d go ahead and schedule me for induction at 39 weeks on June 22nd, however she didn’t think I’d make it that far. 


As a friend of mine put it, my uterus is pretty much like a turkey timer that has no intention of cooking babies any larger than 7 lb and therefore evicts them before they can get there. On Saturday, June 6th at 3 am I woke up with a contraction that had a little bite to it. I reach over to wake up  Ben as another contraction came on. At this point, the contractions were hurting, but didn’t feel like anything I couldn’t get through. A few more contractions later, Ben called his mom to tell her that this is likely it, while I began to get dressed. By the time my MIL arrives, I am in some serious pain. I greet her at the door only to fall to my knees and breathe through a heavy contraction on my front porch. Ben already has the car locked and loaded with towels on the front seat in case my water breaks on the way. My water broke with Dom within 5 minutes of getting to the hospital so he not taking any chances this time.



The hospital is only 15 minutes or so from our house so the ride was quick, especially at 4 am. But as we’re getting off the highway I have a contraction that is so intense, I think I’m going to have P right then and there. After running two red lights we pull up to the hospital. I tell Ben there’s no way I can walk so he jumps out and runs in search of a wheelchair. The L&D intake nurse must have noticed a frantic man rolling a wheelchair out because she pretty much meets us as soon as I’m in the door. She takes over the chair from Ben and starts wheeling me toward the COVID check-in. At this point, I am absolutely dying! The check-in nurse says I need to wear a mask and takes my temp. I almost scream at her that she could inject me with COVID right effing there if it meant I could stop this pain. Plus this baby is coming whether or not I have it.


I must have looked so very clearly in labor because I wasn’t even triaged, just taken straight up to a room. This is when I begin begging for an epidural. I would have literally pushed Ben out of a window if that’s what it took to get the drugs. I get the dreaded cervical check and I’m already at an eight! I begin to freak out that I’m going to have to do this naturally, something I had zero interest in. By now the contractions are coming one after another, right on top of each other. By the time the epidural goddess, I mean anesthesiologist comes in to administer the juice, I am in the worst pain of my life. I keep yelling “I can’t do this!” Right as the needle is getting ready to go into my back I have a contraction that makes me want to push. We’re able to get the needle in and the goddess gives me an extra boost to kick in right away. 


Minutes later I’m euphoric and my doctor has arrived. My doctor is incredibly chill, a trait that I absolutely love about the woman. She pretty much breezed in and said, “Well. Should we break your water and go ahead and meet baby?” Thinking that I’ll be pushing for at least an hour or two, I asked for at least ten minutes to rest. 


Ten minutes of rest plus 15 minutes of pushing later, at 6:14 am a tiny, unbelievably quiet babe was placed on my chest. She barely cried, just looked at me. I of course freak out as they carried her over to the baby station. She was totally fine and perfectly healthy. At 6lb 8oz and 18.25 inches long, Parker Marciline entered the world and proved to me how just like that, a mother’s heart makes room for another. 


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