porter dean’s birth story


This post is long overdue, as Porter is already 3 months old, and I really just wanted to take the time to sit down and reflect on this time in our lives with our newest baby. Transitioning to a family four has been so sweet – hard – but so, so sweet. When we found out we were expecting baby number two, I expected my pregnancy to be very similar to what I felt while pregnant with Spencer. It was vastly different though, and we were thrilled to discover it actually was a second boy! I could’ve sworn it was a girl, so I was really shocked and surprised.


Throughout my pregnancy, I struggled with my OBs up here at Fort Drum. I couldn’t find one I really liked, while I loved my OB in Arizona. At 34 weeks, I switched practices for the second time to A Woman’s Perspective with Dr. Cain, and I finally felt pretty good. They listened to my concerns, and I felt like everything was going smoothly. At 37 weeks pregnant, things started going a little haywire. I’d have contractions every single day between three and seven minutes apart for almost six hours at a time that would later die down. We went to L&D twice, and I got sent home.


They stripped my membranes at 37 weeks and assured me it wouldn’t be long. They did it again at 38 weeks. And 39 weeks. And 40 weeks. And they told me that there was no way I’d be overdue…and that our baby was going to be tiny. At 40 weeks, I was so uncomfortable, and I’d been in prodromal labor for 3 weeks consistently. I begged for an induction, and they said New York state law wouldn’t allow it until week 41, so I waited. At 41 weeks and one day, they started my induction at 7 AM.


Dr. Cain was certain that my body would do its thing naturally since I was three cm dilated and 90% effaced, so they started cervidil right away. I started having contractions, but nothing was painful. They were consistently two minutes apart, so they started my ampicillin drip for GBS, since I needed four units before he was born. They checked me every three hours, but nothing changed. I was still three cm dilated and 90% effaced with contractions two minutes apart. I was so frustrated. Finally, at 4 PM, they said they’d start pitocin to move things along.


Because I’d had the same with Spencer, I knew I was too tired mentally and physically to do it naturally, so I asked for my epidural right away. It took almost immediately, but it was so strong that everything was numb. I couldn’t feel any contractions, so I couldn’t tell if they were continuing. (They were.) My water, however, wouldn’t break, so they did it – and despite the fact that I warned them what happened with Spencer, the exact thing happened again. With every contraction, Porter’s heart rate dropped from 157 bpm to 40. And it continued this way for hours…and hours…and hours.


I couldn’t nap because the nurses kept coming in, afraid for Porter’s health. Nobody checked me, I was extremely, extremely frustrated. They infused saline into the cord to relieve stress, but because the waters had been broken, it kept leaking out. They started talking about a c-section, but I asked them to check me around 3 AM because I thought I maybe felt a little pressure. Finally, they said I was 10 cm and ready to push.


My doctor hustled in, my night nurse took a leg and Ryan took the other one. I started pushing, but because my epidural was so strong, I couldn’t feel my contractions or when I needed to push. It felt a lot more labor-intensive than Spencer’s birth, and though I only pushed for ten minutes, I distinctly remember telling Ryan I couldn’t do it. One push later, and our second little prince, Porter Dean Moore, was born weighing 8 lb 7 oz and 22 inches long – two whole inches and pounds bigger than his older brother.


From the start, Porter has been such an easy baby. Spencer was more difficult by a mile, and Porter has nearly slept through the night since day one. Even in the hospital, the nurses insisted I wake him every two hours to feed him, which was silly since he barely got below his birth weight. My time in the hospital here in New York is bittersweet. I really hated it, but I left with our sweet man, so that made it worthwhile. I had to stay for 48 hours despite the fact that I had no tearing and the easiest recovery because New York state law states that anyone GBS positive has to. It was one of the most frustrating experiences of my life because the staff was unfriendly, they messed up my chart and sent in social workers and generally didn’t do their job well.

And yet, I choose to look back at this time as a fond memory because we now have two sweet boys in our life, and the transition has been fairly seamless since we got home. He fits in so well because he’s quiet, sweet, observant and totally obsessed with his brother. It’s a hard time in our lives with many adjustments, but we wouldn’t change it for anything. We sure do love our little Porter Dean.