The Birth Story of Josephine Kathleen

Am I crazy for writing Jo’s birth story barely more than 48 hours after she came into the world? Perhaps. However, girlfriend loves snoozing in her lounger, so I have free hands and significantly more mental capacity than the first time around when I couldn’t remember my own name on day three. Baby number two is where it’s atttt, guys! This coming from a woman who swore off more children by week five with Anders because #newborns. Whew. But it’s amazing what a little more experience and a lot more foresight can bring to the table.

Speaking of bringing things to the table, Aaron managed to make an entire Christmas dinner—whole turkey included—the day we got home from the hospital, so shout out to his recovery skills, too! My contribution to the meal was decorating Anders’ second birthday cake in such a way that looked like I was the one turning two. Better done than perfect, can I get an amen?

So. Birth story. It won’t be short, but if you’ve met me, you aren’t expecting it to be.

Josephine Kathleen Leyko, named after Aaron’s still-living grandmother (photo included at the bottom of this post) and my late mom was born on Christmas Eve 2019, exactly two weeks early, and on the same day as her older brother’s second birthday. If you’d seen my pregnant belly, it did not feel or look like I had another two weeks in me. Not sure the world needs to know this, but basically they couldn’t give me a normal due date based on my monthly cycle since I’m too irregular (TMI? Maybe I am too tired to be writing this after all…?), so they assigned her due date based on measurements during her first ultrasound. I know that medical science is good and well, but we can all agree that people come in different shapes and sizes, right? #bodypositive Thus, basing a due date on size didn’t really give me much faith in its accuracy.

Interestingly, if they had assigned the due date based off my last cycle (albeit irregular), that due date would’ve been December 24—the day she was born! So while she was technically two weeks early, I wasn’t at all surprised. Except I was entirely surprised at the same time.

I’d gone in for my 38 week checkup at 4:15pm on Christmas Eve Eve—at 37 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I halfway said goodbye to Aaron and Anders on my way out the door, as they were busy getting ready to bake Anders’ birthday cake together. Assuming I’d be home in about an hour, we were all really casual about going about our business, especially since we’d both decided to not have Aaron join me for this appointment because Anders is an absolute maniac in tiny doctor’s rooms. Last time, he ended up finding a drawer full of tampons and lined them up on the floor, counting them proudly when the doctor walked in. Good times. Nothing big was going to happen at this appointment anyway, so Aaron, why don’t you just stay home with Anders, honey?

When I arrived, my blood pressure was slightly high, so the doc wanted me to get some bloodwork done to test for preeclampsia—just precautionary. I asked if he’d sweep my membranes even though it was a bit earlier than they usually do that (I was ready to get Jo OUT), and he agreed to do so due to my high blood pressure. Probably best to get the show on the road, anyway. With Anders, I didn’t go into labor until 5 or 6 days after I got a sweep, since as many of you know, a sweep isn’t an induction. It’s just kind of a way to push your body over the edge if she’s already ready to go. Anyway, the doctor did the sweep and then sent me to labor & delivery to be monitored while they did the preeclampsia blood work. I texted Aaron to let him know I’d probably be an hour later than expected, nbd.

About 45 minutes after showing up at labor & delivery, a nurse walked in and asked “So, do you feel those contractions at all?”

Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Nurse: You’ve been having contractions regularly, about 3-4 minutes apart.

This was news to me. I thought any weirdness I felt were random Braxton Hicks. It makes sense that I didn’t know I was in labor though, because with Anders, I didn’t know I was in labor until my water broke, either. My water hadn’t yet broken this time, and I wasn’t in any pain, but turns out I’d probably been having contractions a bit even before I showed up for my check up, and definitely consistently since the membrane sweep. My doctor came in shortly after and agreed that Jo would be making her appearance soon.

“Soon”? What does that even mean? I literally had to ask, “Wait, so does this mean I’m in labor? Should I call my husband? What’s going on.” Very anticlimactic. Doc said that based on my contractions, Jo would likely arrive in the next 24 hours. I could go home and wait it out, or he could just break my water and get the show on the road.

Guys, it’s a good thing I’m an over-planner. Our hospital bags were packed, my 11 page manual for Anders’ caretaker was printed (two copies!), all Christmas presents were wrapped, the guest room was made, car seat installed, bassinet assembled…I realized there was no good reason to not get the show on the road, especially since I’m sure I would’ve been on edge at home just waiting for my water to break or imagining not getting back to the hospital in time. I have too many friends who accidentally gave birth at home or in the car on the way to the hospital or into the hospital toilet during check-in to have much comfort in the thought of laboring at home. I want to be there nice and early, ready for my epidural, please and thank you.

I had grand illusions of a “natural” birth (no meds) with Anders, but not this time. Nosiree. I know the magic of an epidural and there is no return to the ideal of an arbitrary gold star for not getting one. I choose magic all the way. And any childbirth is “natural” if it means a human being carried another human being and it arrives into the world without green skin and antennas. Just for the record.

It took a few tries to get a hold of Aaron (his hands were covered in cake batter, who am I to be annoyed?), but eventually I filled him in and he agreed with the idea of having the doctor break my water. Doc broke my water at 6:30pm (just two hours after my check up appointment time…things escalated quickly!), and Aaron arrived about an hour later, once Uncle Ky Ky had been notified and got to the house to watch Anders. By that time, I was already beginning to feel some significantly painful contractions at 3-4 cm dilated, so we called for the epidural!

I should note at this point that giving birth in Alaska is the greatest thing of all time, because we were literally the only patients in the entire labor & delivery or postpartum ward. You get a lot of attention that way. Interestingly, though, the doctors aren’t always in the hospital. They literally called the anesthesiologist, who threw on a coat and came over from his house just to give me my epidural. Then my doctor went home to walk his dog and hang out for a while before coming back to check my progress. It’s kind of hilarious. I know doctors are on call elsewhere, but it just feels so small-town here…because it is. I’m never leaving. Anyway, the only folks there consistently are two nurses at a time, who happen to be the most glorious nurses on the planet. The one who helped me through labor could’ve moonlighted as a standup comedian, so that was entertaining.

About six hours after my water broke, I started feeling some pretty intense pressure and pain. My epidural with Anders left me with zero feeling, so I was honestly terrified when I realized this epidural wasn’t as strong. I let the nurse know that I was struggling, and she found that I was 7-8 centimeters dilated at that point. She turned me on my side, and within 17 minutes, I was at a full 10 cm and ready to push. Pushing lasted only 12 minutes, which was a Christmas miracle since I could feel everything going on downtown. In retrospect, I’m really grateful to know what it feels like instead of being entirely numb, but it wasn’t what I’d call “fun”. I’m glad the last bit of serious contractions and Jo’s journey through the birth canal was a grand total of < 30 minutes. I appreciate the hustle, girlfriend.

She was a bit stunned when she came out at 1:49am, and had one piece of cord wrapped around her neck, but it was easily and quickly removed, so she started crying after about 30 seconds (which felt like an eternity). She has the hair of a rockstar, and has been a literal angel from the moment she arrived.

The CARE at this hospital, you guys. I have no words. Alaska has one of the highest rates of breastfeeding moms, and I’m not surprised, because they are so darn relaxing and mom-oriented, without putting any pressure on you. You basically live in this state of euphoria while in their care. My body and mind felt like a completely different person than in the first few hours and days with Anders. I’m sure part of it was the experience of handling a newborn before, so stress was way down. However, while we did have a few fantastic nurses with Anders, everything was way more regimented at the hospital in Virginia. With Jo, they made sure we had a glorious golden hour with her doing skin to skin and establishing a latch. Every single person on the [small] team was encouraging but not overwhelming, insightful but not pushy…all of it. One of the older nurses was trained in postpartum massage, so I even got the greatest oil massage of all time on my back and feet about 24 hours after giving birth. That same nurse also took Jo to the nursery for a few hours after a big feeding so that I could rest while she did Jo’s 24 hour assessment and then got her back down, giving me a glorious stretch of sleep. I could go on and on about how each nurse we saw was next-level wonderful, but I’ll spare everyone the word count. Just know that there’s a big reason we went home so quickly—a Christmas Eve birth, and a Christmas Day discharge. That was in large part due to the hospital care, allowing Jo and me to really thrive during our first 30 hours together.

Anders has already been a literal perfect big brother. We’d talked about Baby Jo for months with him, so he seemed to grasp the concept pretty easily once she was here. He asks for her whenever she’s in a different room, always smiles when he sees her, and loves kissing her or patting her head while saying “baby!” when she makes any noise. He likes to point when I’m feeding her and say “mama milk!” and “Hi Jo” when he walks past her. We are so stinking proud of him. I’m obsessed with the fact that they share a birthday. I have no doubt it’ll make for some super fun traditions and memories.

Anyway, so far so GREAT with Jo at home! She is not a fan of her bassinet, but we’re learning what works for her and just grateful that she is eating so well and looking so darn cute. I’m sure the next 6-8 weeks will bring lots of exhaustion as with any newborn (we got a glimpse of it last night), but we couldn’t be in a better headspace. So in love, so grateful, so supported, and—luckily—with some experience under our belts.

Oh, and Noma’s handling things well, too, even though she gives me major side eye when I bring Jo into bed at night to nurse.

Welcome to this world, Josephine Kathleen Leyko! 7lbs 30z, 20.25 inches of angelic squishiness.

Now off to get ready to welcome Pop Pop and Gigi to town this afternoon, and prepare to celebrate Aaron’s birthday tomorrow! Wheeeewee.