Spencer: A Birth Story

Spencer is now almost one month old (!!!). I need to jot all this down before it completely escapes me, aye?

This part of the story starts on October the 27th, a Monday. I had my weekly OB appointment that day. Jimmy and I both went. It was a run-of-the-mill check-up: weight, blood pressure, and urine check. My blood pressure was running a little high. Not scary high but, higher

The cervix check revealed I was still under two centimeters dilated. I was 39 weeks and 4 days pregnant.

Jimmy and I had discussed it and wanted to talk with the doctors about possibly getting induced on our due date, if I had progressed enough.  Our due date was that Thursday, October 30th. 

Our doctor(s) knew the transportation challenges we faced if I did actually go into labor: getting me to the hospital and getting Jimmy to the hospital.

We never really had to have that conversation because of the blood pressure factor. My doctor said because A) Since it's running higher B) We were so close to due date, and C) We were considering induction anyway -- they would like to take me in that night to start the induction.

My heart started racing. I wasn't expecting that scenario. Alright.

I started texting Mom, Sister and a few friends about plans for admission that evening. My mind started racing with things to do before I was due at the hospital at 8pm. Pack a bag for Jimmy. Final touches on my hospital bag. EAT! Nap? Time to get eyebrows waxed? Time for a pedicure? A friend reminded me to take a final belly pic. I took one with my final belly sticker and one more on my way out as I started feeling the emotions.
I did most of the things on my list (even pedicure/eyebrow wax thank you very much) as we arranged for Jimmy to get in bed super early so he could get back to the hospital at the crack of dawn, before the induction process truly began.

I kissed Jimmy goodnight and got in my car to head to the hospital. The labor and delivery nurse that admitted me was amazing and tenderheartedly curious about our situation. Between the paperwork and questions, she wanted to know all about the accident, the pregnancy, etc. She was genuine and it helped the time pass.

At around 10:45pm, I got something called Cervadil. It's a medication to help my cervix become more ideal for induction.

I didn't get much sleep that night. At around 6 or 7am, Jimmy was getting up and was on his way. He made it to the hospital around that time. I was glad he stayed home and got some rest for the impending events, but I was happy to finally have him there.

He got fed and comfortable. We kept the lights dimmed in the room and dozed together as the sun came up. It was nice.

My doctor told me I could eat lunch and take a shower before we got the party started. I was excited about that! Food! Shower!

At 1pm, I got Pitocin -- the Let's Have A Baby meds. At 1:30pm, my water broke.

Not knowing a damn thing about inducing, I stupidly thought, "Hey, this is gonna go by fast. I'm gonna have this baby in no time."


The Pitocin brought on the contractions. And the pain. Holy crap the pain. I lasted a few hours before asking for my epidural.

The epidural was no frickin' walk in the park. I found it uncomfortable and painful but was looking forward to the fact that it would supposedly help me to feel better. I think it took him longer to complete because of my scoliosis. Extra fun!

Jimmy and his nurse had to leave the room because it's a sterile procedure. I could only have one person in there with me; someone to sit on my feet so I wouldn't move during. That person was friend Jamie. Poor thing -- between the pain of the contractions and the awfulness of the epidural, she felt helpless in trying to soothe me. She did a good job of trying though.

The epidural was over and I was left to rest a little more comfortably. For an hour. Then, more pain. What the crap? An hour? That can't be right. The nurse agreed so they gave me a re-dose. This time, it lasted a little longer. I was finally able to get a little sleep.

My sister finally made it in on a plane from Ohio after several delays and Mom decided to come for the crucial first days at home.

I stayed at 2 and 3 centimeters for what seemed like forever. Hours later, I was a 7. Progress! Much later that night, I started feeling excruciating pain. Bad, bad, so very bad. I called for the nurse. She checked me and informed us I was 10 centimeters dilated. We did some practice pushes. 

The pain in between the pushes is what hurt the most. Such bad pain. F bombs and screaming like in the movies. Maybe it was normal but I felt a little cheated. I think my epidural was broken.

From the minute I got pregnant, Jimmy always said he didn't want to be positioned in the room to see, as my friend says, on the business end of things. He had planned to be head to head. When he got there and mapped out the logistics of the room (baby nurse station on the right and monitors on the left) he realized this may not be possible. Jimmy was lined up perfectly, much to his dismay, to see the business transaction.

Sister was on my left also looking at all the action, screaming things like, "Shes almost here! I can see her head! She's got a full head of hair!"

Meanwhile, further north, friend Jamie was fanning me off and trying to get me to take oxygen in between pushes.

Just diagonal, but a little further back was Jimmy. For someone who was ill himself, he did a good job of stomaching all of this. 

After about 45 minutes of pushing, there must have been something of interest happening. The doctor was called.

And with her came the freaking entourage. Baby nurses, more L&D nurses, people off the street -- I don't know. I do know it was a well-oiled machine and they readied the room and themselves in like 3-5 minutes. 

The doctor asked me if she wanted me to turn off the TV. I immediately said NO. It was nice having the distraction of a random How I Met Your Mother episode on in the background.

I kept pushing and in response, kept hearing, "You're so close!"



But, she eventually did come. It wasn't all lies. She popped out at 1:49am on October 29th in Decatur, GA with some Barney Stinson shenanigans happening in the background. 

Spencer Rosalyn Moore.

At first we heard a little whimper and not much else. The doctor suctioned her airways and quickly handed her over telling the baby nurse to stimulate her. She definitely was a whiteish-blue when she came out, but it was only a few seconds spent with the baby nurse and she was then a nice shade of pink and just screaming her little head off. Music to our ears. 

The nurse started to bring her to me for some skin-to-skin contact when I told her Dad gets the first touch/kiss. 

Jimmy saw it all. He saw his sweet daughter being born. I know it was absolutely effing disgusting, but I also know it's probably something so good that outweighs the nasty. 

One of the first things I noticed about Spencer is how curious she is. Those eyes just constantly scanning the surroundings. 

And with that, we were parents. I was wheeled up to the Mommy and Me floor where we'd be looked after. It was odd to have gone through all that trauma and not focus just on me. I had a little being to now pay attention to. No big. 

After 33 years of just me, 8 years of just me and Jimmy -- now there were three. 

A sweet little baby girl with a boy's name. Spencer.

Here's what I know about Spencer in the short four weeks I've known her: 

Still very curious.

She's in constant need of contact.

She hated her first bath but now enjoys the warm water.

Her favorite thing to do is to eat. She'll fit in this family just fine.

She hates wardrobe changes. She's also not a fan of diaper changes. 

She loves hanging out in the Ergo baby carrier. It's her favorite.

She's not a huge fan of riding in the car... if we're stopped. If we go, she's kind of okay with that. But even then... you're up against the clock.  Definitely not a fan of the car seat. 

She likes to look at the fire while sitting in her bouncy chair. She apparently also likes to watch football. 

She makes her Daddy beam with pride. It's amazing to watch.

She's the sweetest sweetheart.  And she's ours, all ours. 


  1. As soon as I saw this post, I couldn't read it fast enough. What a great story! I always love the humor you throw in and the stark reality you describe.
    The last pic of little Spencer is priceless. She looks like she is talking already!
    By the way, I was 33 when Evie was born, and Jeff and I had been together for 8 years. :-)
    Enjoy your new role as parents!!

  2. Love that last picture, so beautiful! Welcome to the world sweet baby girl!


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