Birth story time! I am currently reminding myself that you, dear reader, choose to read this. I'm not forcing you, therefore, I can be as detailed as I darn well please!
Trigger warnings: those with fertility struggles, I would beg you to first visit
some of my other posts about what we have in common before reading this. Also, I will probably talk about poop, blood, pain, and midwives. Fair warning.
A good friend recently pointed out that in college I made it clear I wanted a natural pain medicine-free birth. It has always been a goal, probably steeped in pride, but a goal nonetheless. My two major fears about childbirth were Pitocin (more painful and higher risk factor for a C-Section), and tearing. One happened, the other didn't, but I realize now that the fear of those was just as futile as the fear of pain that I scoffed at for so many years.
My blood pressure has always been somewhere around 90 / 60, yet my 39 week appointment found my blood pressure to be 135 over 80. Being that it was high for me, my midwife decided to test my blood, my urine, and have me collect my urine for a full 24 hours or to test that. Blood and quick urine test came back fine, so I thought I was in the clear. We were facing the Labor Day weekend and the first day of school on Tuesday: I felt relieved. I desired to spend some time with my kids at school before this baby arrived.
Tuesday morning came around and I got an email notification reporting my 24 hour urine collection results: two times higher than the highest allowable amount of protein in the urine. I charged off to school upset that I could expect a call about needing to be induced. Around 10 a.m., after much scurrying and getting ready for my substitute, my Midwife called and told me to come in. Always the rebel, I didn't actually leave school until 12:30, going home to have lunch with my husband by ourselves for the last time.
I had adrenalin pumping through my veins, my hands shifting too quickly and my breath harder to catch. We drove, rather too quickly, to the hospital to meet the midwife and check "my situation," suitcase in hand.
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First picture of Rita. |
At this point I was only three days away from my due date, so I bowed my head to the knowledge that they would follow through with the threat of induction. The midwife checked, saw that I was one centimeter dilated and began the most painful procedure of the whole ordeal: stripping the membranes. I say it was most painful because the pain was unexpected. You know labor is supposed to hurt, but I never imagined what that would be like. In a word, #$&+$*¥€. However, I did not scream out in pain and I started practicing my breathing in anticipation of what I was facing the next 24 hours. I made it.
Next, we had to go to the health food store to get the yucky castor oil birth cocktail, which I mixed into a crazy juice solution to accompany our last dinner together pre-hospital. My husband, Kevin, was so calm during this entire ordeal, something I desperately needed as I was facing the potential of both my biggest fears. I repeat, the fear of childbirth had nothing to do with the pain of normal childbirth. I knew I could handle normal pain, and I really think that kind of attitude is necessary when entering labor. It was the introduction of Pitocin or tearing that I stressed over.
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We had this to look forward to. |
Kevin and I checked into the hospital, which is really more like a hotel at this point, where the midwife planned to insert a Foley balloon to mechanically dilate me overnight. Fortunately or unfortunately, during the procedure of putting the Foley balloon in, my water broke. The sweet Midwife said she was nowhere near the actual water membrane, so it must have been ready to go anyway. Yay! Not officially an induction! I might be able to go without this stupid Pitocin after all.
The running theme that I should say every other sentence is that the nurses at this hospital were to die for! They were friendly, kind, not shy about nasty bodily functions, and always helpful. Just imagine I inserted that comment after every paragraph and we might approach the necessary amount of praise for these fine women.
I woke up around midnight with contractions that prevented me from sleeping and waited until 1:30 before waking up Kevin. We walked around the hallways, and indulged my intense urge to watch Prince of Egypt. These contractions were definitely active labor, and I could finally feel pain after what felt like months of painless Braxton Hicks. We were getting somewhere and I was going to get to meet my little one!
Around 4 in the morning, I felt as if either I had gotten used to the pain or the pain has lessened because I was able to lay down and fall asleep until about 6:30. The Midwife returned at that point and had to have The Conversation with us. It was time for Pitocin. Downtrodden, I agreed, ate my breakfast, and we hooked me up at 8 a.m.
In order to prevent babies' hearts from freaking out, the procedure with Pitocin is to administer two units to start and increase it by two units every half an hour as long as the baby is healthy. This pattern worked for me and we got to eight units after about an hour. The contractions were much more intense, but my breathing, ball sitting, walking, and dancing with Kevin was helping me hold off more fear of pain. It's the fear that will get you, ladies.
At some point I stopped being quite so conscious of what was going on. I know my sister visited around 10, I know my parents arrived around that time also, I remember getting really irritated at everything at some point as well. They eventually bumped the Pitocin up to 10 and later 12 (the maximum dose), because I wasn't "at the huffing and puffing stage," like they wanted me to be. It turns out I was in the "huffing and puffing" stage, I just didn't look like it.
My amazing husband was with me the entire time, asking my mom for a quick break at some point after several hours of me leaning on him with all my body weight. I am so proud of his amazing feat of being with me during this whole interlude, as he has vasovagal nerve issues. He's such a champion!
I further slipped into an subconscious (?) state, and I had to move to the bed because of the exhaustion. I literally fell asleep in between contractions from about 1 until Rita Marie arrived. Who knew it was possible to take multiple ninety second naps during labor? That should be proof that you get breaks between the painful contractions.
The Midwife told us at 8 a.m. that this labor would probably be between 12 and 20 hours, so I preserved my energy. Little did we know, I was almost fully dilated. Our daughter's head head plugged up the previously broken water spot, creating a new water balloon that the midwife busted. As soon as she took care of that, transition hit. Mamas, this is when you know you have made it, this is when you know you're facing as much physical pain as you will ever face in this season. You're almost there!
I was so delirious. The woman who gave us the tour of the hospital many months ago, a head nurse of some sort, walked in. I immediately associated her with the suggestion she made in the tour of using nitrous. I said hello to her and, "I might not be opposed to nitrous right now." The midwife suggested we wait for two more contractions before talking about nitrous, so she could check me again. Apparently she took him outside and asked him what he thought I would really want at this stage. He said that he knew I really wanted an all natural labor, but that he'd check with me.
The Midwife checked my dilation and it was time to begin pushing. Per my over-researching about how not to tear, I got in the hands and knees position on the bed. Imagine being on your knees facing a Sleep Number bed that has been jacked up into the L position. I had my chin and my forearms resting on the top of the mattress between contractions. While in that position, again completely delirious but ready to meet our daughter, Kevin asked me about the nitrous. I told him I had gotten this far without any pain meds and that I would do the rest of it without them as well.
I pushed like that for at least a half an hour, not being able to see or feel any progress, but hearing multiple lamentations of praise for the great job I was doing. I started to disbelieve my supporters. My mom had pushed for 4 hours with me, so I was assuming it might take somewhere close to that for little Rita Marie.
That's when they turned me around and I got in a seated position. Someone suggested the mirror, which kind of grossed me out, but I said yes. Best decision of the day! It allowed me to see my progress. It allowed my athletic mentality to start to see the Finish Line. I could watch my progress, and feel my daughter's head (so squishy). This position is also where I started to feel that overwhelming pushing urge. You will never believe it until you feel it yourself, but it is as if someone else is making you push. And this is crazy and gross, but it feels so good!
I must have known she was coming soon because some of the few words I spared energy for were, "I need to get this bra and dress off because I want to do skin to skin with her." They cut the dress off of me and a new contraction began. I had my eyes closed. My second push of that contraction brought Rita Marie into the room. The Midwife called out to me to reach down and grab my daughter. The most clear memory of joy is associated with how warm and wet her tiny little fragile body was on my chest.
The eight hours of labor we're far shorter than the medical team expected them to be. Again, as I said they kept increasing the Pitocin because I wasn't showing enough pain. It turns out I was hiding too much of it. However I would do it again like that in a heartbeat, going through as much pain as I did, just to be able to meet her as quickly as I did. I did not tear and I turned out to actually like the Pitocin because of that shorter labor time. Perspective is everything.
As soon as I pulled her up onto my chest I emerged from my subconsciousness and yelled out, "oh my gosh! Happy birthday! I love you, my darling!" Kevin said the whole room laughed and cried at my outburst, because I hadn't really said anything for several hours. It was as if a new woman was there on the bed. That's how I felt, also.
Finally, I looked over at Kevin and said, "we did it!" We thanked God, kissed each other, and thanked each other. My dad has always said God is in the room for a few moments during a child's birth. My mom suggests it's much longer than a few moments. I say I still haven't felt His Presence leave us.