James Paul's Birth Story - 7.5 Weeks Premature

James Paul Pineda

January 20, 2019

5 lbs 3 oz - 18.5in

I have been meaning to write this for MONTHS! Initially, I wanted to make a video because I thought it would be easier but honestly, I'm not ready to be on camera. I feel so cringe-y watching myself second hand lol.

First off, let me start by saying that this whole thing was not anything I could ever imagine. Not at all the plan I thought God had for me. Not at all the plan I had for myself. I guess that's where I went wrong in my thinking. Through it all, there are 3 things I've learned:

1. God is in control.

2. Have faith and ALWAYS trust Him.

3. He will get you through anything.

And with that, let's get into the birth story of my son, James Paul (JP) Pineda. 

It was Sunday, January 20th, when I woke up at about 2am with some MAJOR cramps. I should say that God has C R A Z Y timing for many parts of this story but just to give you an idea, this was TWO days after I quit teaching to "take a month off for some R&R before the baby comes" LOL. Little did I know he would be making his debut 7.5 weeks early. I should also note that I was actually was feeling a bit "off" a week before, but was reassured by one of my friends, who is a doctor, that what I was experiencing was normal and not to worry about anything. TRUST YOUR INTUITION. I should've went to the hospital then, but I thought I was being too paranoid. Also, I had just seen my OBGYN 2 weeks before where again, everything was "fine." She even encouraged me to go to Hawaii for a babymoon. HA! It was January and he wasn't due till March. Plenty of time. Thank goodness I didn't. Don't worry, she's the best OB there is and neither of us could have predicted this would happen. I wasn't high risk or anything so there's really no way anyone could've known. Oh and remember that timing thing I said before? Get this, the following Tuesday, I should've been in Colorado with Ryan on a business trip. CAN I JUST SAY HOW THANKFUL I AM THAT I WAS AT MY HOME IN LAS VEGAS. For real.





So 2 am on Sunday, I wake up with some cramping, text all of my friends that have kids and tell them my symptoms. "Braxton Hicks" they say. In my head, I'm like, well that makes sense, but are you sure they are supposed to be this intense?  Pretty much everyone replied, "Yes." Again, I should've just went to the hospital, you can never be too safe in these situations. But I was only 32 weeks and 4 days. There's no way this could've been labor, I thought. 

The cramping isn't unbearable, but is definitely more intense than I've felt before. Luckily, I managed to fall back asleep around 4-5am, woke up around 9, got ready for church, and headed out the door. While I'm sitting in church, I'm timing these "cramps" which if you haven't guessed already are contractions, and they are about 3-5 minutes apart. I keep trying to convince myself that they are still Braxton Hicks, and that everything will pass. One of my closest friends said her BH lasted 3 weeks straight and were pretty intense. At this point, I'm just going off of everyone else's experiences lol. I'm an idiot. Ugh. 

After church we stopped at Farmer Boys for lunch. While walking to the building, I burst into tears (like uncontrollably. I had NO IDEA what the heck was going on and I'm pretty sure Ryan was like, UM ARE YOU OK?!) I remember asking for his sunglasses so no one would see my red eyes, and grabbing a booth in the back. I tried REALLY hard to finish my salad, but by this point I was feeling so weird and the contractions were getting more and more intense.

When we got home, I told Ryan that I was going to take a shower to see if that would make me feel better and if not, we needed to go to the hospital. Let's get real: As I'm showering, I'm bleeding a fair amount and my heart sank. This is definitely not normal. I need to get to the hospital now. I put on my yoga pants, grab my purse, and we leave. By this point, I'm thinking that something might be wrong but not YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE A KID EARLY wrong. I'm hoping for the best and trying really hard to convince myself that everything is going to be ok. Honestly, and maybe I sound SO naive, but active labor had not even crossed my mind at all. The worst I thought was that something could be wrong with the baby's position or my uterus was doing something funky. I mean anything but labor.

We get to Southern Hills hospital and go to the Emergency area. The check in guy asks how many weeks I am. "32," I reply, and he says I need to go to Labor and Delivery on floor 2. Hmmmm, weird. Like how many of you are screaming at your computer, MINDY GET IT TOGETHER. YOU'RE GOING INTO LABOR YOU DOOFUS!! LOL. No one? Just me, probably because no one is reading this and I'm a moron haha.

They put us in Room 5 at about 1:30pm and start hooking me up to all of these monitors. Want to know what I'm thinking at this point? Wow, this hospital is pretty thorough for just a routine check up. HAHAHAHAAH, I can't say enough how stupid I feel writing all of this and reliving these moments of weakness. Minutes later, she confirms that these are contractions (surprise, surprise) and that I am 3 centimeters dilated. I'll also need to receive steroid shots to try and slow down the contractions and a magnesium drip to advance the baby's lungs. She informed Ryan (while I was laying there, basically crying at knowing I'm going to have a baby so early) that they might be able to delay the labor for 1-2 weeks. Ok Ok Ok, this is really happening but we have time to wrap our heads around having a baby in the next week or two. That's fine. That. Is. Fine. I can do this. BTW, the steroid shot gets put in your butt and makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out. FUN. Ryan is pacing the room. I've never seen him this confused and shocked before. He gets on the phone calling my parents and his parents, prepping them for what's about to happen. They're confused. Everyone is confused. I'm still confused.

About 10-20 minutes, they check my progress and the steroids haven't done anything. I'm already dilated to a 4-5 and things are moving. The nurse now says that the baby will come in 24-48 hours. Still some time to mentally prepare. An hour later, I've progressed to a 6-7 and she says, "This baby is coming tonight." Ohhhhhh crap. Here we go. Jesus take the wheel. 

SO many people (friends and family) are coming in and out of the delivery room, but honestly, I was so focused on my contractions I didn't care or think about any of them. Sorry if any of you are reading this, please don't take offense. I mean, I was a little preoccupied. All I could focus on was my friend, Adrianna, who was watching the contraction monitor prepping me for the next one to come. Why you ask? BECAUSE I AM CRAZY AND REFUSED ALL PAIN MEDICINE AND DRUGS. Yes, that's right, I went alllllllll natural and I am pretty dang proud of it. #braggingrights The nurses kept asking me over and over if I wanted an epidural, and each time I told them no, & to stop asking. I just honestly wanted to see if I could do it and I did! But don't get me wrong, it was was THE WORST FREAKING PAIN I HAVE EVER FELT IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. I'm convinced cutting my arm off like in 27 Hours is less painful. Seriously. If it weren't for my mom and Ryan having to constantly reassure me that I could do it, I would've bowed out 5 centimeters ago.

By now, its about 7pm and I HAVE LOST MY DAMN MIND. The pain soooooooo intense. I'm yelling at my friends and family to get the doctor because I'm ready to push. A redheaded nurse comes in, checks me and says I'm 9 centimeters but they're going to wait until my water breaks. I'm also confined to the bed and can't get up, walk around or anything. I have to say its so crazy to feel every little thing and just trust your body. I'm not dogging on the nursing staff because they were amazing, but many of them told me to try not to push and I'm sure for good reason, but I just felt in my gut literally that it was time despite what they were saying. I trusted them, but I trusted my body more. Luckily, shortly after, my OB had arrived and listened to what I was telling her. She checked and I was 10 centimeters dilated but my water still hadn't broken yet. I said to just break it because it was time and I was not about to go through any more contractions.

I pushed for about 15-20 minutes, but I was so exhausted his head kept crowning and then getting sucked back in because I couldn't keep pushing hard enough. My mom is to my left, Ryan is to the right, and they are both telling me that I can do this and to just keep at it. There are so many nurses in the room and I can hear muted chats in all directions. Focus, Mindy. I think I was doing it wrong because I heard one of the nurses say, "Open your eyes! Don't push in your face, push in your butt!" There's no manual for this. I don't know what I'm doing lol. I can feel where the baby is and how I need to push, but its so close to your butthole, its easy to get confused. The doctor says she's going to have to give me an episiotomy and while this isn't my first choice, I just wanted this baby out. I agreed. 

I ask her, "Is it going to hurt?" but by then, she had already injected the numbing shot and cut. Easy peasy. I push for 15-ish more minutes and at 7:37pm, the doctor said, "Grab your baby and pull it out!" So naturally, I reached down, grabbed under his arms, pulled and immediately set him on my chest. Seriously, how cool (or gross depending on who is reading this) is it to say that I literally got to pull my own child out. How incredibly blessed am I? Truly, I know this. And despite all the heartache, I got to experience a natural birth with no complications and I know many women who can't say that. I'm so grateful.

For about 3 seconds I just squeezed him and it felt like a lifetime (but mind you, we didn't know the gender and still didn't up to this point). Then, I'm like, WAIT, WHAT IS IT?! I picked him off of my chest, looked at Ryan and said, "ITS A BOY!!!!!!!!" Ryan smiled. I hugged James for a few more seconds longer, and then he was taken, cleaned, and headed to his home for the next 2 months, the NICU.

It would be a few more hours until I could see him again. But when I did, it was sweet sweet bliss. 

Whoooo, can't hide those eye bags.

That day was absolutely crazy and I'll never forget it. It was one of the most magical days of my life. Although I can somewhat remember the pain, its starting to lessen and lessen by day. Maybe with my next child, I'll forget it all together and do it all over again...hahaha...we'll see...

Stay tuned for my next post about our NICU journey!

Thanks for reading.