It’s a cliche in the birth world to say that third babies are the wildcards. First labors are usually long and gradual to progress (not always!), and second labors are usually significantly faster. Third babies don’t tend to have a distinguishable pattern.
My first 2 births were almost exactly the same. Except that when my placenta didn’t detach with my daughter, the midwife had to do a manual removal. Yes. It’s as awful as it sounds. But my V came out in 1 push, and on a wave, as her amniotic bag broke at the same time. She was sweet and little and perfect. And I was ready for the chaos of immediate postpartum. Even though the manual placenta removal was incredibly painful, it wasn’t as traumatic as M’s birth because I knew what could happen, and I knew there were things to do to control my bleeding.
In June, 2012, V was 9 or 10 months old, and my period hadn’t returned yet. I would occasionally take a pregnancy test just to make sure, since I couldn’t rely on the communication of my cycle. On this particular night I was taking a shower, while Andy was getting ready to drive from Albuquerque, NM to Anaheim, CA to audition for lead guitarist on an upcoming tour of a favorite band of his. This was a big opportunity, and a big step toward our goal of allowing him to quit his computer science job, and do music full time.
“Hey Andy,” I said as I stood in the last of the hot water. “Can you check that pregnancy test that’s on the back of the toilet? I took it right before I got in.”
“Uh, sure. There’s 2 lines. What does that mean?”
“What?!” I hadn’t expected it to be positive. Honestly, I was probably taking it to see if I could have a drink after Andy left.
This was about 30 minutes before Andy’s friend was coming by to pick Andy up and drive him to California. Not the best timing to find out that we were going to have a third child before our oldest wasn’t even 3 years old. I got dressed, and we sat on the couch, stunned. I cried as I nursed V, and Andy was blank and frozen.
During my pregnancy with my third child, B, our family went through one of a few giant shifts we’ve experienced in the 14 years since Andy and I got married. He got the job as lead guitarist for 2, month long tours; one in September and one from Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve. He would also have to travel to California for rehearsals a few times. We decided that this was as good a time as any to jump into being supported with only Andy’s music.
Really, it didn’t feel as scary to me as it maybe should have. Most of my early memories are of living in a house in the mountains just east of Albuquerque that had a well that was nearly dry. My parents knew the owners of the house, and were able to rent it for only $150 a month, and still my mom had to answer phone calls from rude and misogynist debt collectors almost daily while she homeschooled the 4 of us. We went to friends’ houses to shower and bathe, and I learned to read in a laundromat at the base of the mountains. It smelled like movie popcorn and cigarette smoke, and we sat at one of the long plastic tables doing our schoolwork or coloring while we waited for the laundry for our family of 6 to finish. I’m sure my older siblings were also tasked with helping with the laundry, but I was 4, and the youngest, and I don’t remember ever touching an article of clothing on those afternoons.
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