I just realized the other day that I never wrote our birth story. I'm not sure what was stopping me, other than the fact that I'm not sure how accurately I remember everything. I'm actually glad I waited to write it all out. I have feelings about the whole event that didn't surface until very recently. I apologize that it is so lengthy. You win a prize if you read the entire thing. No, not really.On April 18th, I got up early and drove to my chiropractor appointment. Scout had turned breech at 37 weeks and per the advice of my midwife, we sought help from a chiropractor who knows the
Webster Technique. After 3 adjustments the baby had turned vertex (yay!), but the chiropractor and midwife both wanted me to continue the adjustments through the end of the pregnancy.
After my chiro appointment, I went to a nearby park to walk. It was a beautiful sunny day...a little brisk that morning, but it felt good. I was 2 days past my due date and I was starting to get a little impatient. I wasn't terribly worried about it....just ready to get things moving. I hadn't lost my mucous plug and I hadn't experienced any real contractions (just strong
Braxton Hicks contractions). I talked to my sister on the phone as I walked around the track, like usual. That always made the time go by faster, which was nice because I loathe exercise.
When I got home, my mom and grandma (who were staying with us to help with the baby) were doing some laundry. My mom was putting the finishing touches on
the nursery and folding baby clothes. A friend of mine from church had called me on the way home from the park to ask if I was still pregnant and to check up on me. I was still on the phone with her when I got home. I remember telling her that I didn't think I was going to go into labor anytime soon because I hadn't had any big signs yet.
About an hour later (around 12:30pm), I was sitting on the floor in the nursery, helping my mom organize
baby clothes. When I got up, I had an unmistakable labor contraction. I laugh now when I think about how worried I was that I wouldn't be able to differentiate between the BH contractions and the "real deal". Now I know that the two are VERY different. After the 2nd one, I told my mom that I probably needed to start timing them. I remember breaking out into a cold sweat with that second one. All of the sudden, I felt like I was going to poo in my pants! LOL I literally had to run to the bathroom (which was just a few steps away, praise the Lord!). I immediately thought about what I had read about how the body prepares itself for labor by emptying the bowels. It was that trip to the bathroom when I first saw some "
bloody show". It was light pink-ish, but it was definitely there. It surprised me, because I hadn't lost my plug or had any unusually heavy discharge before then. About 10 minutes after that initial "emergency" bathroom visit, the urge hit me again. I just KNEW that my insides were clearing out for the big event! There was more bloody show, a tad bit darker.
I decided at that point that I'd better call my midwife and give her a heads-up. The birth center we were going to is 2 hours away, so my midwife wanted me to err on the side of caution and keep her informed at the smallest signs of labor. She told me to keep timing the contractions and not to get too excited because it's usually a long process and it could be a couple days before I actually have the baby. I was instructed to keep calling her as things progressed.
I can't remember how far apart the contractions were at that point. I could talk through them and it was still possible to focus on other things while they were happening......Although, when my mom slipped my grandma's watch on my wrist so I could time the contractions, I felt so stupid because it was the kind that doesn't have numbers on the face and my brain was not functioning well enough to figure it out.
DH had been "trained" in timing contractions through our
Bradley Childbirth class, but he was at work. I called him to let him know what was happening. He asked if he needed to come home, but I told him not to. I was still convinced that it would be a few days before I went into "real" labor. I vaguely remember him saying that he spoke to an ex-cowrker on the phone after he had talked to me when my contractions were 10 minutes apart and she scolded him for not rushing home. I supposed I was just in denial and figured we had plenty of time. I didn't want him to race home if it was just a false alarm or the beginning of a several day process.
I ate a turkey sandwich and then laid down for a nap. I couldn't fall asleep because the contractions were getting too intense and closer together. The bedroom was so bright and I felt like I had really strong period cramps. I got back up and sat at the computer to type out directions to the birth center for my mom. She had obviously never been there before since she's from out of town, so I wanted to make sure she didn't get lost. DH and I didn't want anyone present at the birth, but we had agreed that it would be nice if our parents could come to the birth center afterwards to meet their new grand baby. Typing out those directions was difficult! I kept getting interrupted by contractions and losing my train of thought.
I realized as I looked at the clock on the computer that my contractions were getting to be less than 10 minutes apart. There was sort of an excitement and hustle-bustle in the house among my grandma, my mom, and me. We were all acting pretty antsy. Even though I kept telling myself that this could be a false alarm, I think I knew in the back of my head that this was it!
I called my midwife again and gave her an update. She said that I'd better tell DH to get home and start gathering things up to go to the birth center. She still cautioned me that this could be a false alarm, but that it was better to play it safe. I could tell by DH's voice that he was excited when I called him. He got home around 2:30 or 3:00 and we packed up the car. It seemed like we were taking
so much stuff! The birthing ball, a cooler with drinks and food, my overnight bag, things for the baby, the camera, laptop, and video camera, pillows....we filled the whole trunk.
We stopped at Taco Bell because as usual, DH hadn't eaten all day. I don't remember if I ate anything at Taco Bell or not. I don't think I did. I think I had just eaten some baby carrots and hummus. I was trying to drink plenty of water (which I was already accustomed to doing anyway) because I knew the task that laid before me was like an athletic event, requiring stamina. Or at least that's what our Bradley book taught us.
DH was on the phone with friends and family for almost the entire drive. He was letting everyone know that I was in labor. It was a surreal experience. In between contractions, we laughed and joked around....but when I was in the middle of one, I just wanted quiet. He had to make his phone calls short and sweet because the contractions were about 5 minutes apart at that point. I shushed him if he happened to be on the phone or talking to me when I felt one coming on. I remember having the windows rolled down and thinking how wonderful the wind felt on my face as I was going through a contraction.
We got to the birth center at around 5:00 pm. My midwife had gotten there before us and had opened all the doors and windows, which felt nice....but she also had this awful wind-chime/pan flute hippie meditation music playing. I guess she thought it would relax me. It just annoyed me. I don't know why, but I didn't ask her to turn it off. DH and I got settled into the bedroom. We set up our lap top and a bunch of other stuff on the dresser, but DH had to move it all later because apparently, the midwife and her assistant need a place to lay their instruments. Oops. My midwife asked if I wanted to keep the music on. I said, "I guess I just want it to be quiet." Way to be assertive. Even in the throes of labor, I avoid confrontation. Ha! I asked the midwife if she was going to start setting up the birth pool soon, but she sort of hem-hawed and said that she would wait until her assistant arrived. She did an internal exam with my permission and I was 5 cm dilated. I can't remember how effaced I was. It excited me that I was already that far along. I think it surprised my midwife too because I was acting pretty calm.
We made ourselves comfortable and I sat on the birthing ball as I updated my blog and my MySpace page. (hey, I have priorites :) My updates were very short and sweet because it was getting tough to focus on anything but my contractions. DH messed around with the video camera, getting it ready. I drank some protein smoothie and some Green Machine
Naked Juice and ate some crackers and baby carrots. The midwife and her assistant had gone to get something to eat and left me to labor and progress a little. I was excited, but pretty relaxed at the same time.
I remember asking about the pool a second time when they got back, but I don't remember getting a straight answer. It seems like someone said later on, "We could set it up, but you're already progressing so fast and laboring really well out of the water. But we can still set it up if you want us to."....or something to that effect. I agreed with them that I was progressing fine and doing great without the water. I knew that those things take quite a while to set up, so I figured it was pointless that late in the game and told them not to set it up. I didn't really think about it until long after the birth, but it really peeves me that they did not honor my clear wishes to labor in water. I'm not sure if they were just being lazy or what. Gggrrrr.
I wish I would've had someone take notes as far as keeping track of how fast I dilated and when certain things happened throughout the evening, because I have sort of a muddled perspective of how things went down. I know that I was 7 cm dilated at 7:30 PM because that is the last time we called my mom to update her on my progress.
At some point early on our Bradley instructor, who was also acting as our doula, showed up. I think it was shortly after my midwife and her assistant came back from dinner. I was super glad to see her. She has this calm and collected vibe about her that was really valuable to me that evening. She was very quiet and barely said anything the whole time, but her presence was felt.
There were some little kids playing outside next door and their screams were sort of annoying me. Someone went around and closed the windows for me. I felt pretty normal between contractions. I don't remember exactly when I started vocalizing through the contractions, but I know that moaning in a very low voice was very comforting for me for some reason. I can't imagine getting through a strong contraction without bellowing like a cow! The midwife, her assistant, and my doula kept commenting on how I seemed like I knew just what to do. The assistant asked me if I moaned like that out of instinct. I told her, “Nope...I read about it on the internet.”
As the evening went on, I was bleeding more and more. I labored in all sorts of different positions. I felt most comfortable on my hands and knees, or with the top half of my body draped over the rocking ottoman or birthing ball. I also labored sitting backwards on the toilet and by standing up, leaning on DH or the doula. DH was wonderful. He did anything I asked – rubbed my back, put pressure on my lower back, got up to fetch things for me. I kept leaving my bottle of water in weird places as I labored all over the birth center and he kept chasing it down for me. Every now and then, the assistant would check the baby's heart beat with the Doppler. It was always nice and steady. When the contractions were getting super intense, they heated up hot wash cloths in a crock pot full of water to press on my lower back. That felt so good.
I think it was about 9:30 or 10:00 when my midwife's assistant did an internal check and said that I was fully dilated and effaced with just a small rim of cervix still hanging on. This is where things get really fuzzy for me because I was in quite a bit of pain at that point. I just know that I labored in all sorts of crazy positions to try to get that rim of cervix out of the way, dripping blood all over the
Chux pads all the while. Shortly after that, my midwife wanted me to push. She kept asking if I had the urge to push and I kept telling her no. I tried to push a little anyway. I figured she knew what she was doing, and I had never done this before so what did I know?
My bag of waters was bulging and still intact at that point. I'm not sure if it was before or after I started pushing that I began vomiting, but as soon as that started happening, things went downhill pretty fast. I could not keep any liquids down. I was trying to stay hydrated, but I just kept barfing everywhere. I puked all over the bed at one point. It felt a little like being fall-down drunk. In some ways, I was very unaware of my surroundings. I had read a lot of birth stories before giving birth myself and it seems that in every one, the mother says that she was “deep inside” herself or “lost” in her own little world or something similar. Add me to the list. I was definitely in my own little universe. My midwife kept saying things that REALLY grated on my nerves throughout the whole night. For instance, I would moan, “More pressure!”, speaking of my lower back. Everyone else in the room knew that I meant that I needed someone to apply more pressure to my lower back....but my midwife responded, “I know, dear, it WILL feel like there's a lot of pressure.” More than once (it seemed like a gazillion times) she said, “I know honey, that's why they call it labor – it's hard work.” I felt like telling her to shut up, but I didn't. I still can't believe that anyone would say that to a laboring woman, let alone a midwife. Sheesh.
I did a lot of fruitless pushing. I pushed out blood. I pushed out trickles of urine. I pushed out feces. But my bag of waters remained strong. The midwife's assistant did an internal check, during which I writhed in pain and cried for her to stop. I had pretty much lost control and was just immersed in the pain. I wondered when I would ever get to push my baby out. Both the assistant and my midwife agreed that the baby's head was still really high up in the bag of waters and was not pressed up against my cervix like it should've been. My midwife left the room (unbeknownst to me) and returned to tell me that she had been on the phone with my back-up doctor and that she was coming over to the birth center to break my water for me so that the baby's head would finally descend. My midwife said that she was too nervous about doing it herself because of the danger that the cord could slip in between the baby's head and the cervix. I had read about that. I think it's called a
nuchal cord? It is not good. Most of the time, it results in a dead baby.
I was relieved that the doctor was coming over to do something, ANYTHING. It's ridiculous, but I felt like she could “save me”. I had allowed fear to take over. At that point, I was no longer sure that I could complete the task. I had done so well most of the day. From the first contraction at 12:30 until around 9:00 or so, I wasn't afraid at all. I was confident that my body was doing exactly what it was supposed to be doing. I was confident that the baby was in the perfect position and that the whole birth was going to go off without a hitch. I'm not sure what made me get scared. Maybe it was the increasing pain. Maybe it was all the vomiting. Maybe it was the fact that I was “missing” the urge to push while I was being told it was time. I truly believe that my midwife is competent in her profession, but I have to admit that in the back of my mind I didn't have an unwaivering trust in her. Nothing personal, and I can't really explain it....the trust just wasn't there like it should've been. That wasn't a cognitive thought at the time, though. I just see it looking back at the experience.
The doctor broke my water and moved me in a position very quickly to ensure that the cord would not get smushed and pushed through the birth canal with the baby's head. I think that was around 11:45 PM. As a side note, I don't think that doctors are legally supposed to just jog on over to a birth center to assist a midwife like that.....but this doctor is special. She was a midwife before she became an O.B. And had 3 out of 4 of her children at home, unassisted. She is very passionate about natural birth and will do anything in her power to help women avoid unnecessary interventions during labor.
I did some more exhausted pushing. I did some more whining and crying, and whimpered, “I can't do this anymore” over and over. I was just deliriously tired and didn't think I could go on. I was tired of pushing, and it didn't seem like I was making any progress. I still didn't really have that uncontrollable urge to push I had read about.
My midwife told me that she thought it would be a good idea to go to the hospital so they could administer some IV fluids. I was dehydrated from all the vomiting and I was extremely weak. She said that she had called the doctor back and she would meet us over at the hospital. That was between 12:30 and 1:00 AM. DH pulled the car up to the door and they lined the seat with a towel and Chux pads. I was so scared to get in the car. It felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin with every contraction. I felt like climbing the walls because I didn't know what to do with the pain. I was not looking forward to being caged in a moving vehicle, forced to be in one position. I am very thankful that the hospital is just a block from the birth center. I cannot imagine riding in a car for any length of time in that condition. Just the minute or two I was in the car to get across the street was awful. I first got a strong urge to push while sitting in the car. In retrospect, I wish I would've waited for that urge before I had started pushing. It's pointless to go over all the “what-ifs”, but I can't help but wonder if I still would've become quite as exhausted and weak if I had not heeded the advice of my midwife to start pushing at 10:00 that night.
DH drove me up to the hospital entrance and I was helped into a wheel chair. I was pushing the whole time they were wheeling me to the labor & delivery wing. I'm sure blood and amniotic fluid was leaking all over the place. I was pushing the whole time I sat on the edge of the bed while the nurse inserted the needle for the IV. I sipped ice cold purple Gatorade. It tasted so good. They strapped a fetal heart monitor around my waist and I could hear the heart beat loud and clear. I must have asked a billion times if the baby's heart rate was okay throughout the rest of the labor. I could hear it drop a little every now and then, but they assured me that the baby was not in any danger. I told DH to call my mom to let her know we were at the hospital, but I'm glad he talked me out of it. It would've been a bad idea to tell her that we had to go to the hospital before knowing the final outcome. I'm sure it would've worried her even more than she already was.
The doctor had me push while sitting on a
birthing stool (I had pushed on it for a little while at the birth center as well). She was telling me to push really hard out of my bottom, like I was having a bowel movement. It seemed like I was pushing for an eternity. I dreaded every time a contraction started because I knew I had to try to push with all of my might and I still felt so weak. I forgot to mention that my contractions had been “double peaking” since early in the evening, meaning as soon as it felt like one was over, another smaller one would wave over me.
I barely had a second in between contractions to rest. I felt so defeated. I hate to admit it, but in my mind I had resigned myself to the idea that my labor would end in a c-section because the baby's head would not descend. The doctor assured us that the baby's head WAS descending and that she wouldn't be having me go through all of that if she thought it was going to end in surgery. I wanted so badly to believe her but I still felt too weak to stand up, let alone push a baby through my pelvis. DH had left the camera and the video camera over at the birth center because he shared my fear that the birth would end in an emergency c-section and felt really disappointed.....to the point that he wasn't excited about documenting the whole thing. Of course he didn't say that at the time and neither did I, but I felt the same way. Pictures were the last thing on my mind right then.
They helped me move to the bed. I was sitting up, but sort of reclined and the doctor had one of the nurses take a bed sheet and tie a knot at both ends. I took one end and the doctor stood at the foot of the bed and held the other end. I think (?) my midwife, her assistant, and I maybe another nurse or my doula were pushing my legs up toward my shoulders. The doctor told me to pull as hard as I possibly could on the makeshift “rope” every time I had a contraction, while pushing out of my bottom end at the same time. It was so difficult, but extremely effective. I could actually FEEL the baby's head descending. At that point, I wasn't really thinking that's what it was. It just felt as if my pelvis was cracking apart. Seriously.
The doctor was like a cheerleader. She was telling me what a fantastic job I was doing at the end of each “tug-of-war” session, yet she would challenge me to do even better and push even harder with each contraction. I felt like my lips were going to pop right off of my face and every vein in my neck would explode. When everyone said they could see the baby's head, I didn't believe them. Everyone had been telling me that I was making such great progress and that the baby's head was on its way down all evening, so I assumed they were just trying to give me some hope. DH looked down and saw the top of the baby's head and joked that it would need a hair cut as soon as it was born. I think at that point, I started believing that I could actually push the baby out. Now they weren't just trying to make me feel better – My husband could actually see our child's hair. Talk about a boost of confidence!
The head was definitely coming out. I could feel the “ring of fire” down there. It is honestly a horrible burning sensation, but I really didn't mind it. I knew from everything I had read that this was it....the ring of fire meant I was about to meet our baby.
The doctor handed the tug-of-war job over to one of the nurses so she could free herself to catch the baby. She had me lower my legs (which did not feel good!) and she gave me explicit instructions on how to push the baby out so I wouldn't tear. She had me push the head out in short little grunts...which was really tough to do and I don't know that I followed her instructions so well, but whatever I did worked.
At 3:13 AM on April 19, 2007 I pushed Sc0ut Alex@ndra into the world. When they announced that it was a girl I was pleasantly surprised. I was ecstatic, actually! The doctor was doing something at the foot of the bed with her, but I couldn't see. I imagine that she was suctioning the baby's airways and making sure she was breathing alright. I asked if she was okay. The doctor said yes. They laid her on my belly and covered us with blankets. I was laughing giddily with pure joy. Her eyes were open and she looked beautiful! She had dark hair that looked a little wavy since it was wet. It was a miracle! DH and I had just become this little girl's daddy and mommy. She cried a little bit and I stroked her and hugged her and said, “I know, sweetie, you had so much hard work to do! You've just been through a lot!”
We let the cord stop pulsing before DH cut it. I don't remember how long that took. I'm also not sure when I delivered the placenta, but it doesn't seem like it was that long after the birth. Maybe 20 minutes? I didn't have any excessive bleeding and no tears. (just a WHOLE LOT of swelling...yikes!) . I put her to the breast shortly after that and she suckled a little bit. She seemed to know what to do right away. The rest is a blur. I know they let her stay on my chest for quite a while before taking her to get weighed and all of that. She weighed 8 lbs, 5.5 oz and was 21 inches long, by the way.
DH had snapped a picture of her with his fancy camera phone just as I was pushing her out, so we did get some documentation of the birth. It's actually an awesome picture that I will cherish forever.
DH called my poor mom and grandma, who hadn't been updated since 7:30 PM, to let them know that they had a brand new granddaughter/great-granddaughter and that we had transferred to the hospital. It was 3:45 or so when he called them. I wanted them to come to hospital right away. They hadn't been to bed at all, (because they were worried sick) but they they hopped in the car and drove the 2 hours to come see us anyway. They got there around 6:30 AM and met our sweet baby girl. Scout nursed for a long time after they got there. We were all amazed at how great she was sucking.
We stayed at the hospital for about 36 hours after she was born. She roomed in with us, which was nice. She only went to the nursery twice: Once for about a half hour at 5:00 the morning she was born so they could take her footprints and clothe/swaddle her, and once to get her
PKU test the day we were discharged. We declined all other procedures and injections. She did not get bathed and did not get the erythromycin in her eyes, per our request.
She nursed like a champ right off the bat. I had a lot of soreness and even blisters (ouch!) in the beginning despite the fact that she actually had a really good latch. Her mouth was open wide, her lips were flanged, and I could see her little tongue where it was supposed to be. I just think that my body needed time to get used to a nursing baby. I know all the books say, “If it hurts, you're doing it wrong.” But I beg to differ in my case. Nothing has changed about her latch and the soreness has subsided entirely. She most certainly gets plenty of milk.
I am so thankful that all the people surrounding me during the entire process would not let me give up. I truly believe that any other doctor in any other hospital around here would've pushed me into a c-section. Not that c-sections don't have their place. If mom or baby is in danger and that's what it takes to bring them through safely, then praise the Lord for c-sections! But I am so pleased that my doctor let me labor without forcing any kind of medication, intervention, or surgery on me because she knew that's what we wanted.....and she knew that the baby and I were both safe (even though we did not fit into the average time frame most hospitals would “allow” a woman to remain in the pushing stage while exhausted).
At a few of my post-partum check-ups, my midwife assured me that the next time I give birth I will not have to transfer to the hospital because I “will know what to expect and have more confidence”. I'm not sure how that makes sense, since the reason why we transferred was due to dehydration/exhaustion caused by incessant vomiting. That's nothing I could've prepared for or prevented, I suppose. I didn't say that to her; I just agreed. But after I've had time to ponder it, I think she was just saying that to detract from the fact that (maybe?) she messed up by having me push too soon, I don't know. There's no doubt that my own fear played a BIG part in me having rough time towards the end, so I can't rightly shift the blame onto anyone else.
I may change my mind, but if we have another child I am seriously considering starting out in the hospital. It would absolutely HAVE to be that particular hospital with that particular doctor, though. Both DH and I felt very comfortable there, knowing they are big proponents of natural birth. I noticed the nurses wearing buttons on their scrub jackets that said things like, “Birth is Normal.”
I am still very supportive of home birth and believe that it is wonderful thing. But I think that I personally would labor with more comfort and confidence in the hospital that took good care of me and my family and respected all of our wishes to have a natural, low-intervention childbirth than I could at home, which is 2 hrs from that hospital (I wouldn't step foot in any of the nearby hospitals while in labor). And I'm not sure that I would consider going to the birth center again, since I didn't really enjoy my midwife's presence during the labor process. Again, it's not personal and says nothing about what I think of her abilities as a midwife...I'm just not sure she's the birth attendant for me.
Although the birth wasn't exactly the way I had envisioned it, I feel so blessed that things happened the way they did. I feel triumphant that it was a natural, drug-free, episiotomy-free, incision-free, vaginal birth.....and most importantly, we ended up with a beautiful healthy little girl. Praise God.
I hope that most of this information is accurate. Hopefully, DH will skim through and remind me of anything I missed or needs changed. I had debated whether or not to share the...ahem...uh, "money shot" photo here. But since you can't really see anything, I figured "what the hey". Labels: birth story, labor/birth
