Pregnancy Post: Birth Story
I know birth stories are really popular for mothers to share with folks. I'm going to put the story under various cuts so that people can opt for reading parts or the whole thing in one fell swoop.
Around five a.m. on Sept. 28, I was pretty sure my water had broken. I called the Birth Center and the on-call midwife, Lilly, told me to plan on coming in when contractions started or when it opened, whichever came first. I called Em so she could head up from Martinez and then proceeded to write a few blog entries for GlobalShift while I waited for Em. Once she arrived (and had an appropriately decent laugh that, even in labor, I was insisting on working) we gathered up bags and went to the Birth Center. But Lilly checked and said my water hadn't broken after all! I decided I was going to be pregnant forever and to just get used to it.
We went out to lunch with B, Brian, and Max, at Osake's Japanese Steakhouse. I was depressed because I was already over a week beyond my due date and embarrassed that I couldn't get a good enough grip on the whole pregnancy-and-birth thing to even know when one was ending to start the other. We picked up a few things from Oliver's that Lilly had suggested as a way of helping to kick start labor, then went home. Emily left to go back for Martinez, so I made myself a smoothie of milk, raspberry tea, evening primrose oil and blue cohosh before settling in. Since it was around two in the afternoon, when nothing happened I assumed it would be another long waiting game.
I was right, but not in any way I could have possibly imagined.
Around eight that night, I experienced an intense, almost debilitating cramp in the back, not unlike what sent me to the ER a few weeks ago. I didn't think anything about it, until a I had another one, and this one struck in the front. And then another, and another and another, in rapid succession. I had downloaded a contraction tracker on my iPhone a few weeks ago, so despite the pain, managed to turn it on. I tracked 10 contractions and realized that although they were lasting to various lengths, they were less than three minutes apart. I could barely walk because of how intense they were, but given how many "false alarms" I had had, I was gun shy about calling the Birth Center. I finally yelled out of the room for help and Brian got B. We agreed that we would give the contractions a half-hour to see if they changed at all.
During that time, I did everything I had always done to soothe the discomfort. I walked around, I took a hot shower, I did breathing exercises, but virtually nothing helped. After the half-hour, we called the Birth Center and Lilly was once again on-call. She told us to keep monitoring the contractions but that it sounded like the start of labor. Although the contractions were still erratic in terms of how long they lasted, they were still coming with less than three minutes between them. We called Em, woke up B's mom, and headed down to the Birth Center.
When we got to the Birth Center, Lilly was waiting for us. We went in to the birthing rooms and began to set everything up. I had packed my bag weeks ago and Emily had gotten me some pumpkin candles because I had told her the smell of pumpkin is something that I enjoy. I remember being upset I hadn't brought my laptop because even though the contractions were unpleasant, I felt certain I could do some work while we waited for them to really ratchet up. Lilly checked my dilation, which was really painful because most of my labor was in my back, and confirmed that I was around five centimeters, so I had come farther than when she'd checked me that morning. She drew the water in the tub just as Em arrived. Em's arrival was impressive since she had to drive almost an hour and a half to get there, but we had gotten delayed at the house and that had bought her some time to get there shortly after us.
One thing that I wanted, for some reason, were popsicles. B went out to Walgreen's to bring back food for everyone, because we realized we hadn't brought much in the way of energizing snacks and we didn't feel right eating up the Birth Center's supplies. Em and Marji helped me get into the tub during this time, and the water felt amazing. It was a great natural pain reliever and although I still wasn't feel awesome, it occurred to me that if this was the extent of labor, the tub would provide an amazing birth experience. We spent much of those first hours talking babies, labor, telling stories. It was exactly as I imagined, right down to the burning pumpkin candle. B even changed into water shorts so that he could get in there with me.
After a few hours, a nurse named Robin arrived to help with the labor. I recognized her from the registration class B and I took a few weeks ago, and she remembered us too, which was nice. She helped us set up a more inviting ambiance. I noticed that sitting or lying down was uncomfortable, but walking and breathing seemed to be the best way to manage the contractions. I focused on walking the same path, generally unable to speak during the "waves" of contractions. Trying to check my dilation was difficult just due to the fact I was having heavy back labor, but eventually, it became obvious I was not progressing. Lilly suggested manually breaking my water as a way of speeding up delivery. Since the risks associated with rupturing the amniotic sac aren't vastly different than with the sac rupturing on its own, I checked with B and we decided to go through with it.
In hindsight, the rupturing of the amniotic sac was the first sign that things were awry. I noticed my pain increased almost immediately. Whereas before contractions were difficult and slowly intensifying, almost right away they became too much to handle. Sitting down caused waves of fluid to gush out of me, enough to where if I sat down I would have to change my maternity pad and disposable undies. The worst part was that because of the pain, I could not actually change them myself. I felt incredibly ashamed and embarrassed. Getting in and out of a tub completely naked didn't bother me, even when it was my mother-in-law seeing me in all my glory, but lacking the ability to change myself was a different story. Em also told me later that the amount of so much amniotic fluid had also marked when Lilly first became concerned that something was wrong, because I had gone through more than 20 within the hours following the breaking of the sac.
I don't remember at what point things became totally unmanageable. I do remember that at different points in time, everyone went to sleep, except for me. I wanted to sleep, but even trying to lie down caused me to scream--and an actual soul-wrenching scream because of the stress on my back. I couldn't go to the bathroom normally, so I seriously focused on peeing while standing up. While I was totally impressed I could do this, I was also embarrassed because amniotic fluid was leaking everywhere when I did it. I kept pacing in circles, trying to focus on breathing and just walk in a straight line, but I was so tired I kept tripping, occasionally crashing into the wall and holding on to the couch for support.
By this point, I had also named my contractions because I felt somewhat delusional from the pain--back labor spasms were called Bob, front were called Russel, specifically Russel Brand, who is apparently some kind of recording artist. I don't have a good explanation for this, except that I started mentally talking to the "Bob" and "Russel" and asking them to be gentle with me. I also spoke to Sephie, asking her not to be afraid, to help me bring her into the world in a safe, loving environment. I did this silently of course, because talking was just too much work as I focused on walking figure eights around the living area.
Nearly 13 hours after we had arrived at the Birth Center, Lilly asked me to get in the tub. By this point, I was exhausted and in so much pain, I could barely see straight. I actually began to sob and begged her not to make me get in the tub because I had to lie down. I told everyone in the room that I wasn't capable of doing what I wanted, that I couldn't possibly hope to give birth. This was the only time I screamed--not at anyone, just a guttural howl due to the pain ripping through me. Em and Marji told me later that that had been one of the hardest parts of attending my birth, and that particular experience was heartbreaking for them because it was obvious I was in a lot of pain and there was no relief in sight. Lilly took me by the shoulders and told me that I could do this, it was the birth I wanted, and that Sephie was counting on me. That helped me going, somewhat, and I climbed into the tub.
The pain was excruciating. Initially, I began to cry and asked to get out, but when Lilly expressed some hesitation, I resolved to try harder. I forced myself to stay in the tub and asked Marji to spray my back with the hose. It was a trick I had used to cope with back pains through out my pregnancy, and it helped mitigate the pain to where I could lay down in the tub. A few times, I asked Lilly if I could push, but she knew that I wasn't far enough along in my dilation. This strategy helped me cope for about half an hour before it also stopped working.
In addition to the pain, I was also more tired than I had ever been at any point in my life, and actually began passing out in the tub. Lilly threaded a sheet around my body to help keep my head above the water while still giving my body the benefit of the water therapy. Lilly checked my dilation periodically, at one point reassuring me that I was nine centimeters. I had barely spoken more than a few words in several hours, but had told everyone before the birth really began that I wanted people to keep talking, enjoying each other, and not focusing totally on me. The silence made me uncomfortable.
At some point, she re-checked me and realized I had only made it to seven centimeters. The difference in size was due to swelling, so Lilly leveled with me: if I didn't progress within the next few hours, I would have to have a hospital birth. I was terrified with visions of C-sections in my head.
Around 11 a.m., it became clear I would not be able to dilate on my own, never mind actually push once it came time to do so. Due to the pain and the exhaustion, I was not only passing out in the tub, I was unable to coherently respond to questions. Although it wasn't the option any of us wanted, Lilly told us she felt I needed to be transferred to Sutter and induced. B and I "discussed it" as much as we could with how out of it I was, and we decided that I would also get an epidural, a decision Lilly supported.
I have to add that although I was in a complete place of utter exhaustion and pain, I also had an awareness of what was going on. I knew for Lilly to push for a transfer probably meant that something was wrong, but I couldn't reason much beyond that. I knew that for my pain to be increasing while my body's preparations for labor had apparently ceased was not a good sign. And for Lilly to gently suggest I needed both an epidural and a pitocin drip could only mean that she didn't feel the Birth Center could meet my needs. I couldn't quite put that altogether, but I was terrified that the possibility of a C-section had suddenly become a reality. B and I got into the Tucson while Marji and Emily took Em's Elantra. During the brief drive, I experienced three contractions that really eclipsed the other pain because I was stuck sitting and unable to walk.
When we arrived at Sutter, B dropped me off at what we thought was the correct exit so that he could park the car. Because I was a pregnant woman obviously in labor, I was rushed to the front of the very long line of patients to be seen in the emergency room. I felt bad about that, but it was hospital policy and during the four minutes I was in line, I was hit with three contractions that kept me from being able to lodge a protest anyway. I did stay out of the wheelchair, telling the triage person that if she made me sit in the chair, I would not make it to the actual labor and delivery floor. So the receptionist escorted me to the elevator and marveled at my ability to walk for being nine centimeters. I didn't respond because I was upset I had had to talk to someone for 15 minutes to get checked in, rather than have her pull the paperwork I knew damn well was already prepared, or should have been, since Lilly had called and told them I was being transferred.
Once we got off the elevator, B, Em and Marji were in the waiting area outside of Labor and Delivery. They had somehow managed to arrive before me, probably because they didn't have to handle filling out a bunch of paperwork. I was taken back to an observation room and told to undress, which was tricky since I was still having contractions left and right and the nurse was telling me to slip into a belly band for the fetal heart monitor. I did so, but not without a few tears due to how much pain I was in.
After the nurse examined me, she confirmed I was only about seven centimeters dilated, so I would still be eligible for an epidural. We had decided that Marji would stay with me so that B and Emily could go home and get some sleep, but Lilly arrived just in time to hold my hand while they gave me pitocin and the epidural. I can say the epidural wasn't nearly as scary as I had thought it would be. The hardest part was just lowering myself on to the bed so that I could sit and actually receive the epidural. There was some pain with it going into my spine, but I also think that 15 hours of back labor had had something of a natural, anesthetizing effect. It kicked in pretty quickly, and I appreciated still feeling aware of what was going on with my body.
I also met Dr. Les, who would be delivering Sephie. She told me that she had read over my birth plan and we talked about my options. I told her that while I was willing to modify it as necessary, I still felt strongly about items that had been outlined there. I admitted I was terrified of a C-section, but had become aware of the possibility due to how long labor was lasting with no real progress being made. Fortunately, Dr. Les let me know she preferred natural birth methods as well
When I woke up around six, they confirmed I had dilated to nine centimeters. The attending nurse predicted I would give birth between nine and midnight. During this time, I was amazed that although I could feel sensations and my body, I didn't feel any pain. I hadn't wanted an epidural primarily because I was concerned I would not be able to really feel my body, and I wanted to be able to respond as necessary. Thankfully, I could still be aware of what was taking place, even to the extent of knowing I was having a contraction without actually feeling the pain of it.
But the best part was really bonding with my mother-in-law. We've had a rough time of it over the last few years of my relationship, but the baby has been quite the fence-mending project for us. I also felt better having her there, because she is a natural caregiver. Every few minutes she was having me drink water, fetching me juice, or getting me a popsicle from the nurse's station. Somehow, despite having almost no sleep (she had taken some cat naps at the Birth Center, but probably had received less sleep than I had) she charged on, quite the trooper. I think her energy and charisma for what was taking place really helped me as well.
I didn't receive any signal on my cellphone, but I did read some text messages Em had sent out a few hours before letting folks know we'd move to the hospital. I began to worry that Dad would worry, but I had no way of calling him because the hospital room wouldn't let me dial out and sending text messages was impossible. So I actually logged on to Facebook and posted the number to the hospital room and my dad's cellphone, asking for someone to call him and let him know where I was. Fortunately for me, Dad and I have pretty much all the same Facebook friends so several of them had already been in contact with him to see how I was doing. He called me in the room and I gave him the update, happy that I wouldn't need a C-section and that the pain was gone.
Around 8:15, the labor and delivery team moved us into an actual delivery room and confirmed I'd be delivering soon. I was getting nervous because B and Em hadn't made it back yet, and I was afraid of giving birth without them there. They had me prepped and ready to go, so we called Lilly, who had expressed an interest in attending the birth. The labor and delivery nurses were amazing--we went over what I wanted to happen with the baby once she was born, and sadly found out that the attending nurse, Lenore, knew all too well the pain of SIDS. She shared her story of being a grandmother whose first grandchild had died from it two years prior, and what that experience had done to her.
A short time later, Em and B arrived, and the team coached me on how to push. With Em monitoring my contractions, B held my hand and Marji counted for me. I'd take a deep breath in, focus on pushing Sephie out for ten seconds, and then exhale. Interestingly enough, pushing was a really neat experience--it didn't hurt, and the team seemed amazed at the sheer force of will I had in trying to push. Lilly showed up and the labor and delivery team let her coach me on pushing. Sometimes the contractions were long enough I could push four times, but most of them were three sets of pushes. I realized what a good team I had in place and I felt so empowered that I really thought the birth thing was a cake walk.
After an hour and a half of good pushing, I noticed a male doctor had showed up, a guy by the name of Dr. Slater. Although initially I felt uncomfortable being spread eagled in front of so many strangers, I quickly relaxed and cracked a few jokes everyone attributed to the epidural. It was my way of creating ease in an otherwise uncomfortable position. Everyone was cheering me on when suddenly Lilly told me to stop pushing as Marji exclaimed, "I can see her head! She has so much HAIR!" I tried not to push, but realized Sephie was pushing herself. Dr. Les was situated down to catch her, with Dr. Slater standing behind her, and Lilly asked if I wanted to feel her head. My birth plan indicated I hadn't wanted to, but then I changed my mind and reached down to feel her as she crowned. I pushed her and then gave another one as Marji said, "She's here! She's here!" At 10:50 p.m. exactly, Sephie was born.
I flopped back on the gurney, exhausted, when I realized that they had whisked her into a corner. I immediately became afraid--this was the one thing, more than anything else, I had feared about birth. I did not want her taken away from me, but had wanted her immediately placed on my chest. I also realized suddenly that she wasn't crying. There was a lot of noise, but a baby cry was missing from the cacophony. My emotional response immediately kicked into hysterics as B and Marji moved over to the corner where doctors and the baby had put her on a weird machine. I noticed Emily was crying and I began asking, "Why isn't she crying?"
Lilly grabbed my hand and told me that she had had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. At this point, I became completely hysterical. Lilly and Em tried to reassure me everything was okay while Dr. Les assessed I had a one degree tear that would need about three stitches. While she was sewing me up, I was watching Dr. Slater and several nurses work on the baby. I hadn't seen her yet, but I saw B and Marji standing nearby for what seemed like an eternity. I tried hard to keep my emotions under control, but nobody had really told me anything. All I knew is that my daughter had been born in distress and whisked away just as quickly, and my husband hadn't returned to my side.
After that eternity had passed, B came back to the gurney and told me Sephie was going to be just fine. I was still crying hard at this point and could only ask who she looked like. B broke into a huge grin and said she looked like him. Then, in a wonderful moment, she was brought back to me. I was so relieved and feeling such a mix of emotions I actually began to cry harder. Emily gave me a hug and between her own crying told me how proud of me she was. I also saw B and Marji were crying, and I realized what an emotionally trying experience it had been for all of us.
The severity of Sephie's birth is not something I realized for several days. None of the doctors, nurses or Lilly let on how close my daughter came to death, and how soon they realized how dire the situation was while I was still pushing. A lot of what took place I just didn't know, like that Dr. Slater and Dr. Les had actually pulled Sephie from my body. B, my mother-in-law and my father-in-law have all made remarks about just how close we came. Lilly told my mother-in-law that if this were even 50 years ago, there's a good chance Sephie and I both would have died. Apparently, the umbilical cord issue explains not only why I had such intense back labor, but why my labor completely stalled.
I'm just grateful she's here. She's alive, and she's beautiful, and she's healthy.
Around five a.m. on Sept. 28, I was pretty sure my water had broken. I called the Birth Center and the on-call midwife, Lilly, told me to plan on coming in when contractions started or when it opened, whichever came first. I called Em so she could head up from Martinez and then proceeded to write a few blog entries for GlobalShift while I waited for Em. Once she arrived (and had an appropriately decent laugh that, even in labor, I was insisting on working) we gathered up bags and went to the Birth Center. But Lilly checked and said my water hadn't broken after all! I decided I was going to be pregnant forever and to just get used to it.
We went out to lunch with B, Brian, and Max, at Osake's Japanese Steakhouse. I was depressed because I was already over a week beyond my due date and embarrassed that I couldn't get a good enough grip on the whole pregnancy-and-birth thing to even know when one was ending to start the other. We picked up a few things from Oliver's that Lilly had suggested as a way of helping to kick start labor, then went home. Emily left to go back for Martinez, so I made myself a smoothie of milk, raspberry tea, evening primrose oil and blue cohosh before settling in. Since it was around two in the afternoon, when nothing happened I assumed it would be another long waiting game.
I was right, but not in any way I could have possibly imagined.
Around eight that night, I experienced an intense, almost debilitating cramp in the back, not unlike what sent me to the ER a few weeks ago. I didn't think anything about it, until a I had another one, and this one struck in the front. And then another, and another and another, in rapid succession. I had downloaded a contraction tracker on my iPhone a few weeks ago, so despite the pain, managed to turn it on. I tracked 10 contractions and realized that although they were lasting to various lengths, they were less than three minutes apart. I could barely walk because of how intense they were, but given how many "false alarms" I had had, I was gun shy about calling the Birth Center. I finally yelled out of the room for help and Brian got B. We agreed that we would give the contractions a half-hour to see if they changed at all.
During that time, I did everything I had always done to soothe the discomfort. I walked around, I took a hot shower, I did breathing exercises, but virtually nothing helped. After the half-hour, we called the Birth Center and Lilly was once again on-call. She told us to keep monitoring the contractions but that it sounded like the start of labor. Although the contractions were still erratic in terms of how long they lasted, they were still coming with less than three minutes between them. We called Em, woke up B's mom, and headed down to the Birth Center.
When we got to the Birth Center, Lilly was waiting for us. We went in to the birthing rooms and began to set everything up. I had packed my bag weeks ago and Emily had gotten me some pumpkin candles because I had told her the smell of pumpkin is something that I enjoy. I remember being upset I hadn't brought my laptop because even though the contractions were unpleasant, I felt certain I could do some work while we waited for them to really ratchet up. Lilly checked my dilation, which was really painful because most of my labor was in my back, and confirmed that I was around five centimeters, so I had come farther than when she'd checked me that morning. She drew the water in the tub just as Em arrived. Em's arrival was impressive since she had to drive almost an hour and a half to get there, but we had gotten delayed at the house and that had bought her some time to get there shortly after us.
One thing that I wanted, for some reason, were popsicles. B went out to Walgreen's to bring back food for everyone, because we realized we hadn't brought much in the way of energizing snacks and we didn't feel right eating up the Birth Center's supplies. Em and Marji helped me get into the tub during this time, and the water felt amazing. It was a great natural pain reliever and although I still wasn't feel awesome, it occurred to me that if this was the extent of labor, the tub would provide an amazing birth experience. We spent much of those first hours talking babies, labor, telling stories. It was exactly as I imagined, right down to the burning pumpkin candle. B even changed into water shorts so that he could get in there with me.
After a few hours, a nurse named Robin arrived to help with the labor. I recognized her from the registration class B and I took a few weeks ago, and she remembered us too, which was nice. She helped us set up a more inviting ambiance. I noticed that sitting or lying down was uncomfortable, but walking and breathing seemed to be the best way to manage the contractions. I focused on walking the same path, generally unable to speak during the "waves" of contractions. Trying to check my dilation was difficult just due to the fact I was having heavy back labor, but eventually, it became obvious I was not progressing. Lilly suggested manually breaking my water as a way of speeding up delivery. Since the risks associated with rupturing the amniotic sac aren't vastly different than with the sac rupturing on its own, I checked with B and we decided to go through with it.
In hindsight, the rupturing of the amniotic sac was the first sign that things were awry. I noticed my pain increased almost immediately. Whereas before contractions were difficult and slowly intensifying, almost right away they became too much to handle. Sitting down caused waves of fluid to gush out of me, enough to where if I sat down I would have to change my maternity pad and disposable undies. The worst part was that because of the pain, I could not actually change them myself. I felt incredibly ashamed and embarrassed. Getting in and out of a tub completely naked didn't bother me, even when it was my mother-in-law seeing me in all my glory, but lacking the ability to change myself was a different story. Em also told me later that the amount of so much amniotic fluid had also marked when Lilly first became concerned that something was wrong, because I had gone through more than 20 within the hours following the breaking of the sac.
I don't remember at what point things became totally unmanageable. I do remember that at different points in time, everyone went to sleep, except for me. I wanted to sleep, but even trying to lie down caused me to scream--and an actual soul-wrenching scream because of the stress on my back. I couldn't go to the bathroom normally, so I seriously focused on peeing while standing up. While I was totally impressed I could do this, I was also embarrassed because amniotic fluid was leaking everywhere when I did it. I kept pacing in circles, trying to focus on breathing and just walk in a straight line, but I was so tired I kept tripping, occasionally crashing into the wall and holding on to the couch for support.
By this point, I had also named my contractions because I felt somewhat delusional from the pain--back labor spasms were called Bob, front were called Russel, specifically Russel Brand, who is apparently some kind of recording artist. I don't have a good explanation for this, except that I started mentally talking to the "Bob" and "Russel" and asking them to be gentle with me. I also spoke to Sephie, asking her not to be afraid, to help me bring her into the world in a safe, loving environment. I did this silently of course, because talking was just too much work as I focused on walking figure eights around the living area.
Nearly 13 hours after we had arrived at the Birth Center, Lilly asked me to get in the tub. By this point, I was exhausted and in so much pain, I could barely see straight. I actually began to sob and begged her not to make me get in the tub because I had to lie down. I told everyone in the room that I wasn't capable of doing what I wanted, that I couldn't possibly hope to give birth. This was the only time I screamed--not at anyone, just a guttural howl due to the pain ripping through me. Em and Marji told me later that that had been one of the hardest parts of attending my birth, and that particular experience was heartbreaking for them because it was obvious I was in a lot of pain and there was no relief in sight. Lilly took me by the shoulders and told me that I could do this, it was the birth I wanted, and that Sephie was counting on me. That helped me going, somewhat, and I climbed into the tub.
The pain was excruciating. Initially, I began to cry and asked to get out, but when Lilly expressed some hesitation, I resolved to try harder. I forced myself to stay in the tub and asked Marji to spray my back with the hose. It was a trick I had used to cope with back pains through out my pregnancy, and it helped mitigate the pain to where I could lay down in the tub. A few times, I asked Lilly if I could push, but she knew that I wasn't far enough along in my dilation. This strategy helped me cope for about half an hour before it also stopped working.
In addition to the pain, I was also more tired than I had ever been at any point in my life, and actually began passing out in the tub. Lilly threaded a sheet around my body to help keep my head above the water while still giving my body the benefit of the water therapy. Lilly checked my dilation periodically, at one point reassuring me that I was nine centimeters. I had barely spoken more than a few words in several hours, but had told everyone before the birth really began that I wanted people to keep talking, enjoying each other, and not focusing totally on me. The silence made me uncomfortable.
At some point, she re-checked me and realized I had only made it to seven centimeters. The difference in size was due to swelling, so Lilly leveled with me: if I didn't progress within the next few hours, I would have to have a hospital birth. I was terrified with visions of C-sections in my head.
Around 11 a.m., it became clear I would not be able to dilate on my own, never mind actually push once it came time to do so. Due to the pain and the exhaustion, I was not only passing out in the tub, I was unable to coherently respond to questions. Although it wasn't the option any of us wanted, Lilly told us she felt I needed to be transferred to Sutter and induced. B and I "discussed it" as much as we could with how out of it I was, and we decided that I would also get an epidural, a decision Lilly supported.
I have to add that although I was in a complete place of utter exhaustion and pain, I also had an awareness of what was going on. I knew for Lilly to push for a transfer probably meant that something was wrong, but I couldn't reason much beyond that. I knew that for my pain to be increasing while my body's preparations for labor had apparently ceased was not a good sign. And for Lilly to gently suggest I needed both an epidural and a pitocin drip could only mean that she didn't feel the Birth Center could meet my needs. I couldn't quite put that altogether, but I was terrified that the possibility of a C-section had suddenly become a reality. B and I got into the Tucson while Marji and Emily took Em's Elantra. During the brief drive, I experienced three contractions that really eclipsed the other pain because I was stuck sitting and unable to walk.
When we arrived at Sutter, B dropped me off at what we thought was the correct exit so that he could park the car. Because I was a pregnant woman obviously in labor, I was rushed to the front of the very long line of patients to be seen in the emergency room. I felt bad about that, but it was hospital policy and during the four minutes I was in line, I was hit with three contractions that kept me from being able to lodge a protest anyway. I did stay out of the wheelchair, telling the triage person that if she made me sit in the chair, I would not make it to the actual labor and delivery floor. So the receptionist escorted me to the elevator and marveled at my ability to walk for being nine centimeters. I didn't respond because I was upset I had had to talk to someone for 15 minutes to get checked in, rather than have her pull the paperwork I knew damn well was already prepared, or should have been, since Lilly had called and told them I was being transferred.
Once we got off the elevator, B, Em and Marji were in the waiting area outside of Labor and Delivery. They had somehow managed to arrive before me, probably because they didn't have to handle filling out a bunch of paperwork. I was taken back to an observation room and told to undress, which was tricky since I was still having contractions left and right and the nurse was telling me to slip into a belly band for the fetal heart monitor. I did so, but not without a few tears due to how much pain I was in.
After the nurse examined me, she confirmed I was only about seven centimeters dilated, so I would still be eligible for an epidural. We had decided that Marji would stay with me so that B and Emily could go home and get some sleep, but Lilly arrived just in time to hold my hand while they gave me pitocin and the epidural. I can say the epidural wasn't nearly as scary as I had thought it would be. The hardest part was just lowering myself on to the bed so that I could sit and actually receive the epidural. There was some pain with it going into my spine, but I also think that 15 hours of back labor had had something of a natural, anesthetizing effect. It kicked in pretty quickly, and I appreciated still feeling aware of what was going on with my body.
I also met Dr. Les, who would be delivering Sephie. She told me that she had read over my birth plan and we talked about my options. I told her that while I was willing to modify it as necessary, I still felt strongly about items that had been outlined there. I admitted I was terrified of a C-section, but had become aware of the possibility due to how long labor was lasting with no real progress being made. Fortunately, Dr. Les let me know she preferred natural birth methods as well
When I woke up around six, they confirmed I had dilated to nine centimeters. The attending nurse predicted I would give birth between nine and midnight. During this time, I was amazed that although I could feel sensations and my body, I didn't feel any pain. I hadn't wanted an epidural primarily because I was concerned I would not be able to really feel my body, and I wanted to be able to respond as necessary. Thankfully, I could still be aware of what was taking place, even to the extent of knowing I was having a contraction without actually feeling the pain of it.
But the best part was really bonding with my mother-in-law. We've had a rough time of it over the last few years of my relationship, but the baby has been quite the fence-mending project for us. I also felt better having her there, because she is a natural caregiver. Every few minutes she was having me drink water, fetching me juice, or getting me a popsicle from the nurse's station. Somehow, despite having almost no sleep (she had taken some cat naps at the Birth Center, but probably had received less sleep than I had) she charged on, quite the trooper. I think her energy and charisma for what was taking place really helped me as well.
I didn't receive any signal on my cellphone, but I did read some text messages Em had sent out a few hours before letting folks know we'd move to the hospital. I began to worry that Dad would worry, but I had no way of calling him because the hospital room wouldn't let me dial out and sending text messages was impossible. So I actually logged on to Facebook and posted the number to the hospital room and my dad's cellphone, asking for someone to call him and let him know where I was. Fortunately for me, Dad and I have pretty much all the same Facebook friends so several of them had already been in contact with him to see how I was doing. He called me in the room and I gave him the update, happy that I wouldn't need a C-section and that the pain was gone.
Around 8:15, the labor and delivery team moved us into an actual delivery room and confirmed I'd be delivering soon. I was getting nervous because B and Em hadn't made it back yet, and I was afraid of giving birth without them there. They had me prepped and ready to go, so we called Lilly, who had expressed an interest in attending the birth. The labor and delivery nurses were amazing--we went over what I wanted to happen with the baby once she was born, and sadly found out that the attending nurse, Lenore, knew all too well the pain of SIDS. She shared her story of being a grandmother whose first grandchild had died from it two years prior, and what that experience had done to her.
A short time later, Em and B arrived, and the team coached me on how to push. With Em monitoring my contractions, B held my hand and Marji counted for me. I'd take a deep breath in, focus on pushing Sephie out for ten seconds, and then exhale. Interestingly enough, pushing was a really neat experience--it didn't hurt, and the team seemed amazed at the sheer force of will I had in trying to push. Lilly showed up and the labor and delivery team let her coach me on pushing. Sometimes the contractions were long enough I could push four times, but most of them were three sets of pushes. I realized what a good team I had in place and I felt so empowered that I really thought the birth thing was a cake walk.
After an hour and a half of good pushing, I noticed a male doctor had showed up, a guy by the name of Dr. Slater. Although initially I felt uncomfortable being spread eagled in front of so many strangers, I quickly relaxed and cracked a few jokes everyone attributed to the epidural. It was my way of creating ease in an otherwise uncomfortable position. Everyone was cheering me on when suddenly Lilly told me to stop pushing as Marji exclaimed, "I can see her head! She has so much HAIR!" I tried not to push, but realized Sephie was pushing herself. Dr. Les was situated down to catch her, with Dr. Slater standing behind her, and Lilly asked if I wanted to feel her head. My birth plan indicated I hadn't wanted to, but then I changed my mind and reached down to feel her as she crowned. I pushed her and then gave another one as Marji said, "She's here! She's here!" At 10:50 p.m. exactly, Sephie was born.
I flopped back on the gurney, exhausted, when I realized that they had whisked her into a corner. I immediately became afraid--this was the one thing, more than anything else, I had feared about birth. I did not want her taken away from me, but had wanted her immediately placed on my chest. I also realized suddenly that she wasn't crying. There was a lot of noise, but a baby cry was missing from the cacophony. My emotional response immediately kicked into hysterics as B and Marji moved over to the corner where doctors and the baby had put her on a weird machine. I noticed Emily was crying and I began asking, "Why isn't she crying?"
Lilly grabbed my hand and told me that she had had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. At this point, I became completely hysterical. Lilly and Em tried to reassure me everything was okay while Dr. Les assessed I had a one degree tear that would need about three stitches. While she was sewing me up, I was watching Dr. Slater and several nurses work on the baby. I hadn't seen her yet, but I saw B and Marji standing nearby for what seemed like an eternity. I tried hard to keep my emotions under control, but nobody had really told me anything. All I knew is that my daughter had been born in distress and whisked away just as quickly, and my husband hadn't returned to my side.
After that eternity had passed, B came back to the gurney and told me Sephie was going to be just fine. I was still crying hard at this point and could only ask who she looked like. B broke into a huge grin and said she looked like him. Then, in a wonderful moment, she was brought back to me. I was so relieved and feeling such a mix of emotions I actually began to cry harder. Emily gave me a hug and between her own crying told me how proud of me she was. I also saw B and Marji were crying, and I realized what an emotionally trying experience it had been for all of us.
The severity of Sephie's birth is not something I realized for several days. None of the doctors, nurses or Lilly let on how close my daughter came to death, and how soon they realized how dire the situation was while I was still pushing. A lot of what took place I just didn't know, like that Dr. Slater and Dr. Les had actually pulled Sephie from my body. B, my mother-in-law and my father-in-law have all made remarks about just how close we came. Lilly told my mother-in-law that if this were even 50 years ago, there's a good chance Sephie and I both would have died. Apparently, the umbilical cord issue explains not only why I had such intense back labor, but why my labor completely stalled.
I'm just grateful she's here. She's alive, and she's beautiful, and she's healthy.