Birth Story
Birth Story - long
I’m not entirely sure where to begin this. I had prodromal labour for weeks - starting on the 24th of May - the day of our move. On Friday the 19th, I began early labour. Contractions started about 20minutes apart, and at first were just annoying - but not painful. By that evening they were strong menstrual cramps. I began thinking I would have the baby very soon. On Saturday, Craig left for a boys afternoon out. My contractions picked up speed and intensity. I lost my mucous plug, or at least began to - and had a lot of bloody show. Contractions were 4 minutes apart, and hurt. They now required my attention.
All Saturday night my contractions continued - they got stronger, but never closer together. By Sunday morning they had all but stopped. I had now gone 2 nights without much sleep: either due to excitement, or contractions. Sunday I did a lot of walking, nipple stimulation, sex, everything that could be done. I walked down and got some blue cohosh and started that. I had been doing the evening primrose oil for weeks. I checked dilation and was about at 4cm-5cm. I was getting very angry and very done with the whole labour process. Writing it out now seems so simple, and so easy - but by Sunday evening I was beginning to have a little breakdown. My emotional fragility kept me from having a decent nights sleep.
On Monday I had minor contractions throughout the day and by the evening they had picked up in intensity again, wherein I was making the low noises and rocking back and forth to get through them. They proceeded to get to about 5-6minutes apart, and stayed that way all night. Again no sleep. They continued at about 7minutes apart all day Tuesday. Tuesday night something changed and they got much stronger again.
Craig put Kahlan to bed, and eventually we went to sleep. The contractions were keeping me up so I went to the living room. I laboured in the living room, timing my contractions for 5 hours. For 5 hours they stayed 4 minutes apart. I swayed, I rocked, I made low noises. I talked to my baby and told him I was ready for him to come. I asked what he needed me to do for him to be ready to come out. I pleaded with him to be ready as I didn’t know that I could take anymore. At that point, it wasn’t the pain, it was the emotional journey of being in labour for so long.
I kept Craig home from work on Wednesday. Contractions continued at 5 minutes apart. I laboured at home all morning. By early afternoon I was exhausted in every possible way. I took a hot shower, had a nap, woke up and took another hot shower. That seemed to slow my contractions as they were now back at 10-12 minute intervals. I was motivated by Andrea to go for a walk - though I didn’t want to move. At this point I was still having bloody show, and still losing mucous. I had also started leaking amniotic fluid at about 1am Wednesday morning. Craig, Kahlan and I went for a walk and while they played at the waterpark I used the various park equipment to do squats and lunges to help the baby get into a really good position. It was during one of these squats that I tore the bag of waters a little more. I made a nice little puddle on the bottom of the stairs. We went home to change, and then went out to celebrate Andrea’s birthday at Delicados. The car ride there was ridiculous. Never, ever, ride in a car in labour - ever! During dinner contractions were at about 10 minutes, and I tried not to show how much they hurt - I’m pretty sure I failed.
We got home at about 6:30 and I had another hot shower. Contractions quickly, almost immediately, became 6minutes apart. I squatted, I rocked, I hummed - I did anything I could to get through the contactions. Craig got Kahlan to sleep at relatively early for her, and I hoped she would stay asleep. I still had doubts of whether or not the baby was actually coming. After all, on 4 separate occasions my contractions had been close together - and at some point they just peter out.
At about 7:30p (I was looking at the time because I was msn’ing Andrea, and was going to watch So you Think You Can Dance at 8:00p). My contractions kicked into high gear. At that point I decided that if the baby didn’t come that night that the next day I was going to see someone, anyone, to tell me what the problem was. I honestly didn’t think I could go another night without sleep, and with this uncertainty.
I peed several, several, several times. I made noises with every contraction. Eventually, I found a groove. I put myself into self hypnosis, as hypnobabies had taught me, and made no noises through about 45minutes of contractions. Then the phone rang - and that was the end of any form of focus or concentration for the rest of my labour. I absolutely could not get it back. I began to ask Craig to squeeze my hips with every contraction. At first I asked him in the form of a question, then it turned to just saying “hips”, then random sounds, and then he just knew to do it as words became unimportant.
I am pretty sure I entered transition at 9:00-9:15p. My legs began shaking, I felt like vomiting - and I had my first thought of being unwilling to continue. Except, right about that time my contractions shortened and got farther apart, but were much stronger when they hit. They stayed that way until about 9:30-9:45. I thought labour was stopping again - still in denial of the baby actually coming. Then they began coming 1minute apart, Craig had no time to sit down in between. Andrea asked if she could come over and made fantastic time! I swear she just appeared at the door as soon as Craig told me she was coming.
I was now on the floor with my hands and head on the ball. From this point on - there was no logical thought. This is where primal instinct took over. I’m not even sure how to convey it in a way that anyone, even myself at a future date, will be adequately able to understand.
I was exhausted, I had not slept since Thursday night. I had been in labour for days. I felt I had done all I could do - and every part of me was screaming to stop. I pleaded with my contractions to give me a break. I wonder now if Craig or Andrea thought I was pleading with them. I needed a break. I just needed a moment to collect any rational thought, any strength I had left to finish. But my contractions kept coming. When I would feel the wave start, I remember saying “no. No no. I’m not ready” Several times I said that. Several times I begged for a break. Bless them both they dealt with my talking to myself, and irrational behaviour. Craig was still squeezing my hips with every contraction, and I remember one particularly bad contraction as he was behind me I knelt straight up and threw my head back on his shoulder. It was at that point, as weird/corny as it seems, that I realized how much I love him. I have never felt closer and more connected to him.
I’m afraid of pushing. I was with Kahlan, even with an epidural. I know the body does the pushing - but when that urge or ejection reflex hits - I hold it back with every part of me. It takes more effort and causes that much more pain to do it. But I fear pushing. I don’t know why. I held back pushing. I needed to push, but I refused to. At some point, that instinct pushes aside fear. I pushed, and i felt her head slowly come out. I didn’t think I would want to, but I reached down to feel it. I needed to have confirmation that I was making progress, that it was actually happening. And the squishy little top part of her head was out. On the next urge - at this point I don’t want to call them contractions because they didn’t hurt. I pushed her little head out, I reached out to try to find the cord, and couldn’t find her neck. I then wondered if that was really her head, or if it was really a baby. Then I laughed at myself, internally, for being unable to know what I had just ejected (yes, I thought that word) from my body. I said, to the both of them, check for the cord. I think Craig tried but couldn’t tell, so Andrea asked if it was okay for her to look. At this point, I didn’t care who saw what. She checked, and told me no. On the next urge I gave two pushes, and her little body came out. I believe Andrea did the actual “catching” as I’m sure it caught Craig completely off guard. They both told me later that neither of them thought I would push her out so soon - neither of them knew I was pushing until I asked them to check for the cord.
She had a short cord, but long enough to reach up to my chest. I turned over, and as I was doing so realized she was a girl. I love her to death, yet really thought I waa habing a son. She had a dark head of hair, and was crying. Kahlan never cried - granted she wasn’t breathing. I sat there on the floor for I’m not sure how long. Eventually I needed to stand as the placenta was hurting. Her cord went white, and limp and was no longer pulsing so Craig found the hemp thread and scissors. He tied and cut her cord, but it still bled a little. I handed her off and went to the bathroom to birth the placenta. It took maybe 5 minutes and it came out easily. I was informed it was little. I had a shower to clean my gross self off, and then proceeded to put some comfy clothes on - complete with those attractive yet effective mesh panties.
I attempted to nurse her and it took a while before she could figure out how to latch. She nurses so differently than Kahlan! She still was very angry to have been born. I couldn’t believe how much she cried. Andrea hung around for a little while, cooing over my squishy baby, and Craig went between cleaning up and watching us. Andrea left, and I wanted to head to bed. I went to the washroom and lost not a lot, but not a little bit of blood. I laid down on the bed and told myself I was staying there. My legs were shaky, and I had the chills, and I knew that if I stood up I would be light headed. I called my mom and my sister, and Craig called his parents - as per their instructions to us. We then cuddled up and went to bed. ETA: Craig was wonderful throughout the whole labour and birth. He was much calmer and stronger than I expected him to be. He did everything right - which I know was a fear of his. Since Sorel's birth (she was named a week after she was born) I have noticed such a change in Craig. I am not sure if its my perspective or if he is a different person - but I'm finding that the strength, sensitivity, and patience that he showed during labour is still present. It's been wonderful for our family!
The afterthoughts:
After this birth - I can’t imagine having anyone “official” there. Why would they need to be there? I can’t imagine feeling comfortable enough to be as vulnerable as I was in front of someone who was there to manage my birth. Birth made me the strongest and the most vulnerable I have ever been - simultaneously. Having an outside person would have violated that delicate balance. And, really, what would they have done for me? I don’t look down, or think anything of anyone who has a different birth experience - this was just my own. Birth is much more personal than I ever believed it to be.
I also have to admit that I think that anyone who has an unmedicated birth (any where) does deserve a certain amount of respect. No, there is nothing wrong with a medicated birth - and there are no birth points or medals, - I don’t even know how to say this without offending people, but, to have gone through the ups and downs of a natural birth - I am accomplished, I am proud - and while I don’t need recognition from anyone (and don’t want it) that effort, those energies, the power that comes from that should not be simply dismissed as another choice in life. There is a clear difference between a medicated and unmedicated birth - having now had both. I give much respect to all women who chose unmedicated.
Oh! She was 7lbs 6oz, was 19" long, with a 12" head.
I’m not entirely sure where to begin this. I had prodromal labour for weeks - starting on the 24th of May - the day of our move. On Friday the 19th, I began early labour. Contractions started about 20minutes apart, and at first were just annoying - but not painful. By that evening they were strong menstrual cramps. I began thinking I would have the baby very soon. On Saturday, Craig left for a boys afternoon out. My contractions picked up speed and intensity. I lost my mucous plug, or at least began to - and had a lot of bloody show. Contractions were 4 minutes apart, and hurt. They now required my attention.
All Saturday night my contractions continued - they got stronger, but never closer together. By Sunday morning they had all but stopped. I had now gone 2 nights without much sleep: either due to excitement, or contractions. Sunday I did a lot of walking, nipple stimulation, sex, everything that could be done. I walked down and got some blue cohosh and started that. I had been doing the evening primrose oil for weeks. I checked dilation and was about at 4cm-5cm. I was getting very angry and very done with the whole labour process. Writing it out now seems so simple, and so easy - but by Sunday evening I was beginning to have a little breakdown. My emotional fragility kept me from having a decent nights sleep.
On Monday I had minor contractions throughout the day and by the evening they had picked up in intensity again, wherein I was making the low noises and rocking back and forth to get through them. They proceeded to get to about 5-6minutes apart, and stayed that way all night. Again no sleep. They continued at about 7minutes apart all day Tuesday. Tuesday night something changed and they got much stronger again.
Craig put Kahlan to bed, and eventually we went to sleep. The contractions were keeping me up so I went to the living room. I laboured in the living room, timing my contractions for 5 hours. For 5 hours they stayed 4 minutes apart. I swayed, I rocked, I made low noises. I talked to my baby and told him I was ready for him to come. I asked what he needed me to do for him to be ready to come out. I pleaded with him to be ready as I didn’t know that I could take anymore. At that point, it wasn’t the pain, it was the emotional journey of being in labour for so long.
I kept Craig home from work on Wednesday. Contractions continued at 5 minutes apart. I laboured at home all morning. By early afternoon I was exhausted in every possible way. I took a hot shower, had a nap, woke up and took another hot shower. That seemed to slow my contractions as they were now back at 10-12 minute intervals. I was motivated by Andrea to go for a walk - though I didn’t want to move. At this point I was still having bloody show, and still losing mucous. I had also started leaking amniotic fluid at about 1am Wednesday morning. Craig, Kahlan and I went for a walk and while they played at the waterpark I used the various park equipment to do squats and lunges to help the baby get into a really good position. It was during one of these squats that I tore the bag of waters a little more. I made a nice little puddle on the bottom of the stairs. We went home to change, and then went out to celebrate Andrea’s birthday at Delicados. The car ride there was ridiculous. Never, ever, ride in a car in labour - ever! During dinner contractions were at about 10 minutes, and I tried not to show how much they hurt - I’m pretty sure I failed.
We got home at about 6:30 and I had another hot shower. Contractions quickly, almost immediately, became 6minutes apart. I squatted, I rocked, I hummed - I did anything I could to get through the contactions. Craig got Kahlan to sleep at relatively early for her, and I hoped she would stay asleep. I still had doubts of whether or not the baby was actually coming. After all, on 4 separate occasions my contractions had been close together - and at some point they just peter out.
At about 7:30p (I was looking at the time because I was msn’ing Andrea, and was going to watch So you Think You Can Dance at 8:00p). My contractions kicked into high gear. At that point I decided that if the baby didn’t come that night that the next day I was going to see someone, anyone, to tell me what the problem was. I honestly didn’t think I could go another night without sleep, and with this uncertainty.
I peed several, several, several times. I made noises with every contraction. Eventually, I found a groove. I put myself into self hypnosis, as hypnobabies had taught me, and made no noises through about 45minutes of contractions. Then the phone rang - and that was the end of any form of focus or concentration for the rest of my labour. I absolutely could not get it back. I began to ask Craig to squeeze my hips with every contraction. At first I asked him in the form of a question, then it turned to just saying “hips”, then random sounds, and then he just knew to do it as words became unimportant.
I am pretty sure I entered transition at 9:00-9:15p. My legs began shaking, I felt like vomiting - and I had my first thought of being unwilling to continue. Except, right about that time my contractions shortened and got farther apart, but were much stronger when they hit. They stayed that way until about 9:30-9:45. I thought labour was stopping again - still in denial of the baby actually coming. Then they began coming 1minute apart, Craig had no time to sit down in between. Andrea asked if she could come over and made fantastic time! I swear she just appeared at the door as soon as Craig told me she was coming.
I was now on the floor with my hands and head on the ball. From this point on - there was no logical thought. This is where primal instinct took over. I’m not even sure how to convey it in a way that anyone, even myself at a future date, will be adequately able to understand.
I was exhausted, I had not slept since Thursday night. I had been in labour for days. I felt I had done all I could do - and every part of me was screaming to stop. I pleaded with my contractions to give me a break. I wonder now if Craig or Andrea thought I was pleading with them. I needed a break. I just needed a moment to collect any rational thought, any strength I had left to finish. But my contractions kept coming. When I would feel the wave start, I remember saying “no. No no. I’m not ready” Several times I said that. Several times I begged for a break. Bless them both they dealt with my talking to myself, and irrational behaviour. Craig was still squeezing my hips with every contraction, and I remember one particularly bad contraction as he was behind me I knelt straight up and threw my head back on his shoulder. It was at that point, as weird/corny as it seems, that I realized how much I love him. I have never felt closer and more connected to him.
I’m afraid of pushing. I was with Kahlan, even with an epidural. I know the body does the pushing - but when that urge or ejection reflex hits - I hold it back with every part of me. It takes more effort and causes that much more pain to do it. But I fear pushing. I don’t know why. I held back pushing. I needed to push, but I refused to. At some point, that instinct pushes aside fear. I pushed, and i felt her head slowly come out. I didn’t think I would want to, but I reached down to feel it. I needed to have confirmation that I was making progress, that it was actually happening. And the squishy little top part of her head was out. On the next urge - at this point I don’t want to call them contractions because they didn’t hurt. I pushed her little head out, I reached out to try to find the cord, and couldn’t find her neck. I then wondered if that was really her head, or if it was really a baby. Then I laughed at myself, internally, for being unable to know what I had just ejected (yes, I thought that word) from my body. I said, to the both of them, check for the cord. I think Craig tried but couldn’t tell, so Andrea asked if it was okay for her to look. At this point, I didn’t care who saw what. She checked, and told me no. On the next urge I gave two pushes, and her little body came out. I believe Andrea did the actual “catching” as I’m sure it caught Craig completely off guard. They both told me later that neither of them thought I would push her out so soon - neither of them knew I was pushing until I asked them to check for the cord.
She had a short cord, but long enough to reach up to my chest. I turned over, and as I was doing so realized she was a girl. I love her to death, yet really thought I waa habing a son. She had a dark head of hair, and was crying. Kahlan never cried - granted she wasn’t breathing. I sat there on the floor for I’m not sure how long. Eventually I needed to stand as the placenta was hurting. Her cord went white, and limp and was no longer pulsing so Craig found the hemp thread and scissors. He tied and cut her cord, but it still bled a little. I handed her off and went to the bathroom to birth the placenta. It took maybe 5 minutes and it came out easily. I was informed it was little. I had a shower to clean my gross self off, and then proceeded to put some comfy clothes on - complete with those attractive yet effective mesh panties.
I attempted to nurse her and it took a while before she could figure out how to latch. She nurses so differently than Kahlan! She still was very angry to have been born. I couldn’t believe how much she cried. Andrea hung around for a little while, cooing over my squishy baby, and Craig went between cleaning up and watching us. Andrea left, and I wanted to head to bed. I went to the washroom and lost not a lot, but not a little bit of blood. I laid down on the bed and told myself I was staying there. My legs were shaky, and I had the chills, and I knew that if I stood up I would be light headed. I called my mom and my sister, and Craig called his parents - as per their instructions to us. We then cuddled up and went to bed. ETA: Craig was wonderful throughout the whole labour and birth. He was much calmer and stronger than I expected him to be. He did everything right - which I know was a fear of his. Since Sorel's birth (she was named a week after she was born) I have noticed such a change in Craig. I am not sure if its my perspective or if he is a different person - but I'm finding that the strength, sensitivity, and patience that he showed during labour is still present. It's been wonderful for our family!
The afterthoughts:
After this birth - I can’t imagine having anyone “official” there. Why would they need to be there? I can’t imagine feeling comfortable enough to be as vulnerable as I was in front of someone who was there to manage my birth. Birth made me the strongest and the most vulnerable I have ever been - simultaneously. Having an outside person would have violated that delicate balance. And, really, what would they have done for me? I don’t look down, or think anything of anyone who has a different birth experience - this was just my own. Birth is much more personal than I ever believed it to be.
I also have to admit that I think that anyone who has an unmedicated birth (any where) does deserve a certain amount of respect. No, there is nothing wrong with a medicated birth - and there are no birth points or medals, - I don’t even know how to say this without offending people, but, to have gone through the ups and downs of a natural birth - I am accomplished, I am proud - and while I don’t need recognition from anyone (and don’t want it) that effort, those energies, the power that comes from that should not be simply dismissed as another choice in life. There is a clear difference between a medicated and unmedicated birth - having now had both. I give much respect to all women who chose unmedicated.
Oh! She was 7lbs 6oz, was 19" long, with a 12" head.