Finally, the birth story.
I decided to finally edit and post this. I hope you enjoy it and that it inspires you.
I had been working on finishing up my birth projects for the baby for the past two and a half weeks. While I'm pretty sure I had been in painless prodromal labor for about the same time and my bag of waters started a slow leak earlier that week, I managed to complete the last diaper cover the night before they spontaneously ruptured. I had been feeling nauseous and crampy for a few days, and had some bloody show but assumed it was just spotting from my last cervical check and already being pretty far dilated.
Friday night we left dinner with friends early because of strong nausea, loss of appetite, and a sore throat. I was able to nap for a few hours then, but got up later with more nausea. From about 3 AM to 5 AM Saturday I napped again, kind of poorly, and got up in the early morning to go to the bathroom. I immediately noticed a gush of fluids.. not too bad but enough to saturate the towel I was sleeping on. I took it with me and saw quite a bit of pink-tinged clear fluid. I let Robby (my husband) know and try to lay down to go back to sleep but was already developing a pretty bad case of early labor jitters. Mildly painful, irregular contractions started up slowly around 6 AM. I think I napped from 7 to 9 again, then called the midwives to let them know my water had broken. They warned me it could still be a day or two yet, but to keep up with the contractions and come in when they started becoming very hard to deal with.
We went shopping to pick up a few last minute items and returned home. I tried again to nap from about 11 to 12:30 at which point the contractions started becoming very sharp. I told Robby we should leave in an hour. Funnily enough, he had wanted to pack the laptop for “something to do” in the event it took a while. I OKed this idea at first, but as he went to put it away for the trip, I told him no, to leave it. I had a hunch taking it would be overkill. We finished packing and loading the car in that time, let close family and my midwives know we were on our way, and headed out. That car ride was definitely the car ride from hell. I felt pretty bad for Robby because, at this point, I was wailing and moaning my head off trying to deal with the contractions. He got to the birth center with the aid of emergency flashers in no time-about 15 minutes for a ride that normally takes 35, ha-and we were moved into the second suite by Leslie, the birth center's director and midwife on duty. While the bath tub filled with water, Leslie hooked Cadoc and me up to the fetal monitor and checked out our heart rates and my blood pressure. Everything looked great. I was already 6 centimeters dilated when we arrived. The baby was handling the contractions very well, even the hard ones that came on top of each other. It wasn't a terribly fun experience for me however. I was quickly approaching the point where all you really want to do is run away from the pain, and I told her so. Laying down on the bed was the worst thing possible.
The tub filled with enough water for me to get in, thank God. Robby got in behind me and an RN named Albany who was assisting Leslie arrived to help monitor the baby and me. Unfortunately I didn't sense a whole lot of immediate relief from the water though I know it helped in a lot of less obvious areas. Despite being only about 96 degrees, it felt like it was burning my skin off. I asked for the temperature to be lowered, but that wouldn't work if I stayed in the tub to give birth as a cooler temperature would shock the baby. I settled for a cold washcloth to lean against. The contractions were beyond intense at this point. I can't remember how many I got through before I finally said I couldn't do it anymore. Leslie, of course, had the perfect response: “That's good because you don't have much longer, you're nearly there.” She told me to keep going through a few more, let her know when I felt a consistent pressure on my rectum, and she'd do a cervical check.
Those next few contractions were some of the hardest and frankly painful feelings I've ever dealt with in my life. I was in full-blown panic with the desire to get pain relief but at the same time afraid to move from my spot in the tub for fear that I would completely lose control. The total relaxation method wasn't working too well for me, so I just ran headlong into the contractions the same way you'd dive into a breaking wave. I was squatting and kneeling the whole time, so I'm sure that lent itself to the intensity and speed of the dilation, but no other positions felt comfortable. I'm still amazed that I didn't throw up. I'm deathly afraid of throwing up, and even though nearly everyone says it's a relief, I was sure it would set me into a panic. Robby and my mom, who had just arrived a few minutes before, respectively held me and wiped off my face with a cool washcloth... I'm supremely grateful to them both for taking care of me. I let Leslie know that I was starting to feel a lot of pressure and began grunt pushing a little. She checked me and informed me I had a tiny lip left and only had about two or three contractions to go. I think I asked his position at this point, and she told me she was pretty sure he was LOA, or left occiput anterior. Huge relief for me. I had wondered what all of the shifting I'd felt for a few days prior was and glad it turned out to be him lining up in the ideal pre-labor position.
After virtually no rest period (five minutes tops, my mind was begging for something more like 15 or 20) I started to get strong pushy feelings and bore down. Leslie asked me to tell her when I started to feel a sting in my perineal area. Pushing was pretty agonizing for while as I hadn't been able to urinate or have a solid bowel movement just prior to hard labor starting. I have to say this was the funny part. I realized that, in order for Cadoc to be born, I'd have to have a “movement.” I said to Robby and Albany, “I have to poop. I'm going to poop. I'm sorry.” Both assured me it was quite alright, and I let go of my embarrassment and pushed some of the “obstructions” out of the way. Pushing immediately became more bearable and even felt better. Soon after that I noticed the sting and told my attendants. Leslie had Robby take my legs and hold me up in a semi-recline with my belly surfacing just above the water's meniscus.
Initially I hadn't wanted coached pushing, but that's what turned out to work best as he got closer to crowning. Certainly my attendants didn't do it Valsalva-style, just encouraged me to keep pushing all the way through the contraction and only break to catch my breath. I kept telling myself “go the full six seconds” over and over again, and counted it out in my head: one-mississippi, two-mississippi... The ring of fire was not a mild sting, rather it lived up to its name. I felt his head crown, but man, those little shoulders were a doozy. He was out in one final push, born at 3:52 in the afternoon only about 20 minutes after I left transition. Leslie immediately lifted him from the water and put him on my chest. He didn't make much noise, just flopped around with a bemused expression, and I was alarmed at first that maybe he was sick. Later my mom told me he just seemed very calm.
I dilated from 5 to 10 centimeters in about three hours and had my baby in my arms within another half hour. Labor was rough for me. While it was about an hour too long to qualify as “precipitous,” Leslie said that I might have been the fastest first-time mother she had ever seen. I didn't get that sense of a building contractions. Instead of climbing up a steep mountain and descending, it was a little more like running full speed off a cliff. Even so, I'm so very glad to have chosen natural childbirth. It was both difficult and easy, and it was comforting to be able to trust my body. Even during those moments when I thought I was going to pass out or crawl out of my skin, I felt with it. My husband and I both felt like people present at the birth of their child, not a product on a conveyor belt. Our attendants were very hands-off considering the place and circumstances. The monitoring mostly consisted of taking a temperature and a heartbeat here and there, and the most work they did happened after he was born. In retrospect, while I think we could have had a home birth or even an unassisted birth, I'm happy with our decision. I was nervous with little birth experience and having a few people present who had seen multiple births lifted a weight off my shoulders.
We have had a few disappointments. For one, we forgot to record his actual birth. Things were progressing too quickly and the only thing on my mind was to get him out, so I didn't think to ask Mom to pull out the camera. I wish I had been able to “savor” labor and birth a little more, if that makes sense. The intensity of it just kind of put me into a “get it over with” mindset. The first week of his life was spent in and out of the pediatrician's office because of his jaundice. We've had breastfeeding woes, which lead to bonding issues and severe PPD, we're still in the process of battling three months later. Nevertheless, the disappointments do not detract from how special his birth was, and I wouldn't have it any other way if we choose to have another baby.
Don't sell yourself short. You are strong, not weak. You have a capable mind and body and spirit. You and your baby are worth it. As a wiser person put it, birth is the last rite of passage we have in this instant gratification society. Natural birth isn't for everyone, but if it appeals to you at all, don't assume you have to be a superwoman. You can do it.
As for the naysayers... we don't do it for the gold star. We don't do it to be called amazing, or crazy, or stupid. We do it because we believe in ourselves, we believe that the current medical system in this country is corrupt, because we want the best start for our babies, and because we feel that patriarchy has damaged the female spirit. Before you belittle those of us who choose this path, do your research. Watch The Business of Being Born, read Born in the USA and Pushed, and get an RSS feed of The Unnecesarean. Is it propaganda? Sure, but then again, isn't everything put out by the media?
I had been working on finishing up my birth projects for the baby for the past two and a half weeks. While I'm pretty sure I had been in painless prodromal labor for about the same time and my bag of waters started a slow leak earlier that week, I managed to complete the last diaper cover the night before they spontaneously ruptured. I had been feeling nauseous and crampy for a few days, and had some bloody show but assumed it was just spotting from my last cervical check and already being pretty far dilated.
Friday night we left dinner with friends early because of strong nausea, loss of appetite, and a sore throat. I was able to nap for a few hours then, but got up later with more nausea. From about 3 AM to 5 AM Saturday I napped again, kind of poorly, and got up in the early morning to go to the bathroom. I immediately noticed a gush of fluids.. not too bad but enough to saturate the towel I was sleeping on. I took it with me and saw quite a bit of pink-tinged clear fluid. I let Robby (my husband) know and try to lay down to go back to sleep but was already developing a pretty bad case of early labor jitters. Mildly painful, irregular contractions started up slowly around 6 AM. I think I napped from 7 to 9 again, then called the midwives to let them know my water had broken. They warned me it could still be a day or two yet, but to keep up with the contractions and come in when they started becoming very hard to deal with.
We went shopping to pick up a few last minute items and returned home. I tried again to nap from about 11 to 12:30 at which point the contractions started becoming very sharp. I told Robby we should leave in an hour. Funnily enough, he had wanted to pack the laptop for “something to do” in the event it took a while. I OKed this idea at first, but as he went to put it away for the trip, I told him no, to leave it. I had a hunch taking it would be overkill. We finished packing and loading the car in that time, let close family and my midwives know we were on our way, and headed out. That car ride was definitely the car ride from hell. I felt pretty bad for Robby because, at this point, I was wailing and moaning my head off trying to deal with the contractions. He got to the birth center with the aid of emergency flashers in no time-about 15 minutes for a ride that normally takes 35, ha-and we were moved into the second suite by Leslie, the birth center's director and midwife on duty. While the bath tub filled with water, Leslie hooked Cadoc and me up to the fetal monitor and checked out our heart rates and my blood pressure. Everything looked great. I was already 6 centimeters dilated when we arrived. The baby was handling the contractions very well, even the hard ones that came on top of each other. It wasn't a terribly fun experience for me however. I was quickly approaching the point where all you really want to do is run away from the pain, and I told her so. Laying down on the bed was the worst thing possible.
The tub filled with enough water for me to get in, thank God. Robby got in behind me and an RN named Albany who was assisting Leslie arrived to help monitor the baby and me. Unfortunately I didn't sense a whole lot of immediate relief from the water though I know it helped in a lot of less obvious areas. Despite being only about 96 degrees, it felt like it was burning my skin off. I asked for the temperature to be lowered, but that wouldn't work if I stayed in the tub to give birth as a cooler temperature would shock the baby. I settled for a cold washcloth to lean against. The contractions were beyond intense at this point. I can't remember how many I got through before I finally said I couldn't do it anymore. Leslie, of course, had the perfect response: “That's good because you don't have much longer, you're nearly there.” She told me to keep going through a few more, let her know when I felt a consistent pressure on my rectum, and she'd do a cervical check.
Those next few contractions were some of the hardest and frankly painful feelings I've ever dealt with in my life. I was in full-blown panic with the desire to get pain relief but at the same time afraid to move from my spot in the tub for fear that I would completely lose control. The total relaxation method wasn't working too well for me, so I just ran headlong into the contractions the same way you'd dive into a breaking wave. I was squatting and kneeling the whole time, so I'm sure that lent itself to the intensity and speed of the dilation, but no other positions felt comfortable. I'm still amazed that I didn't throw up. I'm deathly afraid of throwing up, and even though nearly everyone says it's a relief, I was sure it would set me into a panic. Robby and my mom, who had just arrived a few minutes before, respectively held me and wiped off my face with a cool washcloth... I'm supremely grateful to them both for taking care of me. I let Leslie know that I was starting to feel a lot of pressure and began grunt pushing a little. She checked me and informed me I had a tiny lip left and only had about two or three contractions to go. I think I asked his position at this point, and she told me she was pretty sure he was LOA, or left occiput anterior. Huge relief for me. I had wondered what all of the shifting I'd felt for a few days prior was and glad it turned out to be him lining up in the ideal pre-labor position.
After virtually no rest period (five minutes tops, my mind was begging for something more like 15 or 20) I started to get strong pushy feelings and bore down. Leslie asked me to tell her when I started to feel a sting in my perineal area. Pushing was pretty agonizing for while as I hadn't been able to urinate or have a solid bowel movement just prior to hard labor starting. I have to say this was the funny part. I realized that, in order for Cadoc to be born, I'd have to have a “movement.” I said to Robby and Albany, “I have to poop. I'm going to poop. I'm sorry.” Both assured me it was quite alright, and I let go of my embarrassment and pushed some of the “obstructions” out of the way. Pushing immediately became more bearable and even felt better. Soon after that I noticed the sting and told my attendants. Leslie had Robby take my legs and hold me up in a semi-recline with my belly surfacing just above the water's meniscus.
Initially I hadn't wanted coached pushing, but that's what turned out to work best as he got closer to crowning. Certainly my attendants didn't do it Valsalva-style, just encouraged me to keep pushing all the way through the contraction and only break to catch my breath. I kept telling myself “go the full six seconds” over and over again, and counted it out in my head: one-mississippi, two-mississippi... The ring of fire was not a mild sting, rather it lived up to its name. I felt his head crown, but man, those little shoulders were a doozy. He was out in one final push, born at 3:52 in the afternoon only about 20 minutes after I left transition. Leslie immediately lifted him from the water and put him on my chest. He didn't make much noise, just flopped around with a bemused expression, and I was alarmed at first that maybe he was sick. Later my mom told me he just seemed very calm.
I dilated from 5 to 10 centimeters in about three hours and had my baby in my arms within another half hour. Labor was rough for me. While it was about an hour too long to qualify as “precipitous,” Leslie said that I might have been the fastest first-time mother she had ever seen. I didn't get that sense of a building contractions. Instead of climbing up a steep mountain and descending, it was a little more like running full speed off a cliff. Even so, I'm so very glad to have chosen natural childbirth. It was both difficult and easy, and it was comforting to be able to trust my body. Even during those moments when I thought I was going to pass out or crawl out of my skin, I felt with it. My husband and I both felt like people present at the birth of their child, not a product on a conveyor belt. Our attendants were very hands-off considering the place and circumstances. The monitoring mostly consisted of taking a temperature and a heartbeat here and there, and the most work they did happened after he was born. In retrospect, while I think we could have had a home birth or even an unassisted birth, I'm happy with our decision. I was nervous with little birth experience and having a few people present who had seen multiple births lifted a weight off my shoulders.
We have had a few disappointments. For one, we forgot to record his actual birth. Things were progressing too quickly and the only thing on my mind was to get him out, so I didn't think to ask Mom to pull out the camera. I wish I had been able to “savor” labor and birth a little more, if that makes sense. The intensity of it just kind of put me into a “get it over with” mindset. The first week of his life was spent in and out of the pediatrician's office because of his jaundice. We've had breastfeeding woes, which lead to bonding issues and severe PPD, we're still in the process of battling three months later. Nevertheless, the disappointments do not detract from how special his birth was, and I wouldn't have it any other way if we choose to have another baby.
Don't sell yourself short. You are strong, not weak. You have a capable mind and body and spirit. You and your baby are worth it. As a wiser person put it, birth is the last rite of passage we have in this instant gratification society. Natural birth isn't for everyone, but if it appeals to you at all, don't assume you have to be a superwoman. You can do it.
As for the naysayers... we don't do it for the gold star. We don't do it to be called amazing, or crazy, or stupid. We do it because we believe in ourselves, we believe that the current medical system in this country is corrupt, because we want the best start for our babies, and because we feel that patriarchy has damaged the female spirit. Before you belittle those of us who choose this path, do your research. Watch The Business of Being Born, read Born in the USA and Pushed, and get an RSS feed of The Unnecesarean. Is it propaganda? Sure, but then again, isn't everything put out by the media?