{photography by Kay Eileen Photography}
Let me start by telling you how much I love my doctor, because I, like, really love her.
First, she was nothing but amazing when we had Maverick...I'd heard horror stories about how OB doctors aren't around for the majority of labor, they just swoop in at the end to catch the baby...but Dr. Gessner is not. like. that. at. all. She was around for all 24+ hours of labor...she kept showing up in my room every couple of hours and I was honestly like, "How are you still here right now? Do you ever go home? Are you sleeping in a secret room somewhere?"
Flash forward three years: Dr. Gessner spent more than a year *helping* us get pregnant, right down to text messages on nights and weekends with VERY DIRECT (read: EXPLICIT) directions because I need things to be very black and white. So many appointments, so many ultrasounds, so many tests...all saying the same thing. Josh and I were both healthy and fine and perfect...she patiently explained all of our options, over and over...and remained confident that it would happen.
You were expecting Cooper's birth story, but, as you know, this story started way back in April of 2018 with a tiny 7 week old peanut who's with Jesus right now. I can recall the details of this timeline like it all happened yesterday...and this birth story was exactly what we needed after all that preceded February 10th 2020.
May 10th (the morning of Jamie's wedding) the official, big, fat NEGATIVE made itself known, for yet another month. I'd spent months hoping and praying we'd be pregnant by the time our next niece was born (because selfishly, I just didn't want any more hard things), and on June 7th at 8am, we got a positive pregnancy test...two hours later we received news that our niece Sienna was born. I literally can't with this.
I called the clinic and they had me come in for blood work right away and then a few more times the first couple of weeks to make sure my HCG levels were increasing appropriately (something I knew nothing about prior to this whirlwind). I had my first ultrasound at 6 weeks to make sure everything was looking good, standard protocol with a pregnancy following a miscarriage. All the questions I'd deemed silly/paranoid with the first two pregnancies, suddenly became questions I was feeling overly cautious about...and Dr. Gessner answered them all...even via text.
So what I'm saying is...I'm low key obsessed with my doctor.
Around Week 30, I told her I'd like to run the same play as we had with Mav...a scheduled induction, please. Week 37 arrived and she gave me the official date...she was scheduled to be on call Monday, February 10th, that could be BABY DAY. She induced me at 39 weeks + 3 days, as compared to Maverick's 40 weeks + 3 days, allowing me to trim off that final, uncomfortable, sleepless week and for that I will be forever grateful.
More notable news at Week 37...I was, shockingly, dilated to a 1. I was also having quite a few (infrequent) contractions which was all very different than anything I experienced with Mav...as similar as both pregnancies were, I kept trying to tell myself, there's no way this birth could go as perfectly as my first...they're all different, all interesting, you simply can't plan them to be the same. Part of me felt like that was true...but part of me felt like everything *could* play out the same way, based on what I know about my body (what I know is this: I'd still be pregnant with both of these stubborn boys if they hadn't had 'help'). That stupid 1 was just trying to fake me out but I wasn't going to be a bit surprised if I walked into the hospital on February 10th at 39 weeks pregnant, still a 1.
Spoiler: That's what happened.
Our last picture as a family of three!
On Sunday night we dropped Maverick off with Nana and Papa in Ankeny, came back to Ames for a final date at The Cafe, and did all the final packing + house prep I wanted perfectly finished off before heading to the hospital. I also moisturized + spray tanned because...I am who I am and I am won't apologize for it.
We were instructed to be at the hospital at 7am to get checked in with the nurse and Dr. Gessner would arrive around 8/8:30 to break my water and get everything started. We arrived around 6:30, grabbed Burgie's (against instructions not to eat a heavy breakfast...this has got to be the dumbest rule and I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm a bit of a rule breaker...it was about to be a loooong day...if anyone ever needed a Farmer's Burrito + latte, it's a mother about to give birth) and checked into Birthways around 7:15 (which had Josh all stressed because our note said to be there AT SEVEN and I just cannot deal with how stressful he is sometimes...we pay a literal fortune for insurance, I'm 9 months pregnant and I'm here to tell you, these wonderful people WORK FOR ME today).
Upon completion of paperwork, IV, blood draw, etc. etc. we got settled (notes about keeping my cute PJ shirt + bra ON for as long as possible; wiping baby before handing him anywhere; and Josh playing a "hands-off" role for birth were made abundantly clear). Like anything else in life, I like my hospital room to be good and organized. I sent Josh back to the car to get the rest of our stuff (we don't pack light...ever, anywhere we go, and this is something else I won't be apologizing for...we needed an assortment of DVD's, I can't determine in advance what we will be in the mood to watch!). If you want to see everything I packed, you can read the blog I wrote a couple weeks before Cooper.
Dr. Gessner arrived and asked what I wanted to do first...and I was kind of like...I mean...I want to be induced and have a baby. Whatever you say will make that happen is what I'm here to do. So she broke my water at 8:30 and they started pitocin around 9, upping it by '2' every half hour (prior to all that she checked me and I was a...barely-there-'2'...not at all surprised).
A quick Maverick-recap for you: Broke water at 8:30am, waited to see if anything exciting would happen...it didn't, we started Pitocin at 1:00pm, got epidural around 10:30pm-ish, slept all night...pushed for two hours...had him at 12:14pm.
I was super interested to see how this would all play out since we were changing things up just a little bit, starting Pitocin right away. We started the typical rotation of: hang out for a while, have a blood pressure check, go to the bathroom, get comfortable again. We watched 007: Skyfall in preparation for the new James Bond coming out in (what we thought at the time) April. I texted my friends and Jamie updates of what was happening, which was not much. Contractions were consistently two minutes apart and gradually getting more and more uncomfortable but not painful. Jamie was tentatively planning to be in the room for the Main Event, but it kind of depended on how everything played out since she still had class on Monday + clinicals on Tuesday (at Mary Greeley!).
These are a few of my favorite things.
The hours ticked by. I watched Josh eat his lunch. Jamie arrived after class to hang out and we watched The Greatest Showman. The Pitocin kept dripping and at some point during, 'From Now On' I decided I was done feeling contractions (I think Pitocin was at like a '12' by now?). They officially hurt and I wasn't there to be a hero. I gave the green light so the nurse could get the bag of fluids ready to roll and call the anesthesiologist (that stuff takes time and I didn't want to find myself in the 'it's too late for you to get one' timeframe). I hadn't seen Dr. Gessner for the better part of the day, but I didn't expect to because, like I said, there wasn't much happening and she said she wouldn't check me again until I was ready for the epidural.
I signed the paperwork for the drugs and tried not to think about the possible spinal headache that they're required to disclose but happens to basically no one. The anesthesiologist arrived and worked really quickly...I love him because he let me keep all MY clothes on! No ugly, terrible, stiff, crunchy, hospital gown! There was much rejoicing over this because, as you've gathered if you've known me for any amount of time, you know I'm particular about some stuff.
The epidural was in at 3:30 but didn't feel like it was fully 'IN' until 4:30. This was stressful to me, only because of all the horror stories I'd heard. I was trying to be chill, but I could definitely still feel contractions (though the edge was gone), and I calmly communicated that to the nurse and the anesthesiologist when he came back after 20 minutes. He gave me a shot of morphine which was (as some of you probably know) the most amazing. thing. ever. By 4:30 I felt nothing, Dr. Gessner came to check me (I was at a whopping THREE), and I'd pretty much resigned myself to settling in for a long night, grabbing some sleep, and having Cooper at some point eaaaaarly in the morning (the timeline had played out very similar to Mav for everything up to this point).
We put in Father of the Bride Part II, because what else makes sense during labor? Nana had handed Mav off to my parents, and I figured since it was (probably definitely) going to be a while longer, they could pop in for a quick visit and so I could kiss Mav one more time before he became a big brother. Jamie left and said she'd come back with the whole fam, which sounded like a good plan to me because...I'm nothing if not a fabulous hostess. The more people to party it up in my room while we waited, the better.
Now this is where the timeline gets a little...blurry (I stopped taking notes on my phone so I'm shooting from the hip here). Dr. Gessner came back sometime between 6 and 7 and I was (shockingly) dilated to a 6. I thought...well THAT is certainly different than Mav, perhaps we will have this baby before 6am! In hindsight...I feel like keeping expectations low in the direction I did was super helpful. I was prepared for the long haul, and as it turns out, everything happened much faster than I was prepared for, which was kind of amazing.
My family arrived sometime during the 7 o'clock hour. Mav got to see us, and see the hospital room where his brother would be born, and cuddle me on the bed for a bit. The nurses had been in and out a few times looking at everything on the monitors, but because I couldn't feel anything, I wasn't real sure what the traffic was about. Like I said, my expectations were lowwwww. There were a total of five extra humans in my room at this point and DR. GESSNER came in for the first time in a WHILE and said something like, 'Ooookay we need to get ready to have a baby!'
Between saying bye to everyone and Jamie getting settled in and excited to stay, there was talk I was at a 9. A NINE! The jump from 6 to 9 was like...less than an hour! So all those people had to be hustled right out. I honestly had no idea this could even happen. With Maverick I was stuck somewhere between 5/6 when I was able to get a full nights sleep. Jamie was just beside herself she'd get to be in the room, with clinicals the next morning at 6am, she was only planning to wait it out until midnight.
Five minute after this picture was taken...'we' had a baby.
The bassinet had been set up for hours at this point, so that wasn't really a clue. But the nurses hustling in and out should have been. Josh and Jamie and I were just like, 'So this is happening now? Like, right now? Like we will have a baby in this room before midnight?' It took a minute for us to get our heads around it.
I don't remember exactly because this blog has taken an entire year to write, but I think I pushed about three times. Three. From start to finish the main ordeal was less than ten minutes. And I had zero pain. ZE.RO. Jamie was like, 'one more and he will be here!' and I was like, 'no.' And she was like, 'YES!' And Josh was like, 'Did you even need me here because you have Jamie?' And I was like, 'Jamie don't look.' And she was like, 'I want to! It's so cool! And I don't know what you're worried about, everything looks great.' (HIGH PRAISE) And I was like, 'Ugh Josh you can look if you want to, but I don't really want you to.' And he was like, 'I don't think I will, I'm good.' And I was like, 'Okay good.'
Then Cooper Wilder Harm was here! He arrived at 8:15pm, weighing in at 7lbs 9oz, and 20 inches long.
And he was immediately a 'nugget' to us.
They told Josh he could cut the cord (this part is so icky and weird to me) and he offered it to James! Probably because he knew she would think it's way cooler than he does. He was right. They wiped Coopey and wrapped him up and Josh held him while we all looked at him. Then Josh let Jamie hold him which she felt bad about, because I hadn't held him yet. But if you have a sister, you know this doesn't even matter. I'd been holding him for 9 months, Jamie 'holding him first' was as good as me getting to hold him. Plus, I was otherwise 'engaged' and I can't enjoy my baby until certain things have been 'handled.'
Eventually I was able to sit up and now here is the funniest part of the day. As soon as I sat up, I needed to puke. Nbd, I just demanded a bucket and made it clear I needed it quickly. And I look over and Jamie was all worried about me and crying. Crying! I think maybe it's just because the puke was unexpected? Or she was just feeling overly emotional? I have no idea. It was the least dramatic, most matter-of-fact puke of my life. I immediately felt 100% better, felt like I needed to eat something, and everyone assured Jamie (and Josh who gets squeamish) that this can be totally normal. It was just so funny to me...no one cried while I was GIVING BIRTH but a little puking had everyone upset.
Yes the baby is cute, but can we have a moment for the lashes?
If I had to choose, I'd choose a morning birth (Maverick was born at at 12:14pm) over an evening birth. Sunday night was a crap night of sleep; we were up super early; awake and excited all day; and when Cooper came at 8:15 it meant we were in for a long night...I had a lot of 'things' to 'tend' to...Cooper had to be cleaned and weighed and checked. And when they were done with him, then they moved back to me. Mav was still awake when we texted my mom the picture of his new brother and while I can't accurately write a description of his reaction, and I wasn't there, I can picture him looking at the screen, gesturing with his hands, dying to hold and meet his baby brother.
Then there's the breastfeeding bit, which was the bane of my existence every three hours in the hospital. This wasn't my first rodeo, Mav and I made it a year but it wasn't easy (we used a shield, every time, every 3-4 hours, around the clock FOR A YEAR). He didn't sleep through the night until we were finished (yes, no consistent sleeping through the night FOR A YEAR), and he was actually maybe kind of a high maintenance baby, which I didn't realize until Cooper. Thankful that's the order my children came in, because Coop has honestly BEEN A BREEZE.
Hospital cuddles are the best.
Anyway, back to the BF stuff + Cooper. We'd attempt. It wouldn't go well. We'd try and try. I'd hold him a million different ways. I understand it hurts for the first few times/days/weeks, but you guys. This hurt to the point that I wanted to throw my sweet newborn baby (who I was supposed to be bonding with) across the room in a fit of rage. I'd request to use the shield I'd come prepared with and the nurses and lactation nurse would come in and 'help' and tell me that I just needed to keep trying. They'd frequently say things like, 'Oh mom, you have perfect 'equipment' you can do this!' They said Cooper's mouth was perfect. But it wasn't. clicking.
On the second night in the hospital, in the middle of the night, I remember telling the nurse point. blank. 'You will let me use a shield or this baby will be a formula baby by the morning.' I was crying for the FIRST time during the whole hospital stay. And I swear to you, it's not (only) because I was a postpartum hormonal mess. It hurt like a MOFO and no one was listening...and I'm not used to no one listening to me, and I'm REALLY not used to people telling me, 'no.' The nurse that night was sweet and said she'd made a note on our chart that's how we'd be feeding baby, and no one would question us from that point on...including the opiniated lactation nurse.
After discovering the Hakka between Mav and Cooper, I was prepared to use that thing and oh my gosh. Does it deliver. I was stashing more milk away than I knew what to DO with while I was still attempting to feed Coop! This led to some extra pumping, which I found I didn't hate this time as much as I did with Mav when I would get six drops. I was getting 1, 2, 3 ounces every time! It was such a surprise. But despite the abundance of milk and the excellent equipment, Cooper still wasn't getting it. He'd tuck his bottom or top lip under, not open his mouth big enough, and never actually latch the way he was supposed to so it didn't hurt. The shield helped a little but not much. And in the middle of the night, things just need to WORK.
He was two weeks old when I gave him a four ounce bottle and he downed it in less than ten minutes at the coffee shop next to JB Knacker. No issues. No frustration. It was beautiful. I was like...FEEDING YOUR BABY CAN BE THIS EASY?! And that pretty much sealed our fate in the breastfeeding department. I look back now and I am so grateful I gave in when I did. I started giving him all the milk I'd been stashing and pumping, plus an ounce or two of formula when a four-ounce pumped bottle didn't seem to be enough (newborn Cooper ate shocking amount). I'd made the decision that I would NOT be waking up to pump in the middle of the night once he started sleeping longer stretches...wouldn't you know, those longer stretches came much sooner than I anticipated (thanks to formula, I think) and with that, my supply tanked. Instead of getting 3-6 ounces each pump session, I was getting 1-2.
Here's the thing, though. I didn't care. I kept up with pumping for a while but at some point between months three and four, Cooper became a 100% formula-fed baby. It was springtime...we all wanted to be on the go, playing outside, on walks around town...being chained to a breastfeeding baby on the couch for hours each day and/or attached to a pump every three hours just was not conducive to our lifestyle with a four-year-old big brother. It worked with Mav, but for so many reasons (one of which happened to be an undiagnosed tongue/lip tie that was discovered a year later...skip the lactation consultant and go visit your dentist, instead), it just didn't 'work' with Cooper.
Our time in the hospital was delightful (minus an inconvenient hearing test that happened at the exact time Mav had arrived to meet his baby brother), we relaxed and ate really good food. Kayla came and took some amazing pictures in fifteen minutes during her lunch break (+ she had them edited and back to me later that night when I was awake and *trying* to feed a frustrated Cooper). We've honestly had such great experiences with both babies during our hospital stays. We always stay for the maximum amount of time allowed because it's just so fun to sit and enjoy your new baby without the distractions of laundry and dishes and Boersma Lawn Care at home. I know people who RUSH to get home, but not me, man. Our hospital stays with Maverick and Cooper are the only two periods of time in the past five years that I can remember that we've BOTH been completely undistracted, relaxed, while 100% enjoying living in the moment. That's sad, but it's the reality we live as small business owners with babies.
So there's Cooper's birth story. One year and one day later.
The morning after...he looks sweet but he was a barracuda and would not eat.
Special Big Brother surprises for Maverick.
Sweet brothers.
First picture as a family of FOUR!
Brought him home on one of coldest of the year!
Ready to head home after our 'hospital vacation!'
My first Target pick-up order on our way home from the hospital. I didn't realize this would be my new lifestyle in 2020.
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