Birth Story (and some rambling)

I woke up on Friday, January 5, at 7:30am, aware that I had been having some vague, Braxton Hicks type of contractions in my sleep for a bit. When I went to the bathroom, it was clear that I had lost my mucus plug. I knew that this could mean that labor was imminent, or that it could mean nothing at all, but coupled with the mild contractions, Derek and I decided that he would work from home that day. The morning continued uneventfully, I continued to feel mild contractions every 15 minutes or so, and I called my midwife, Margie, because I was a bit concerned that I was regularly passing mucousy-watery-blood tinged fluid, and didn’t know if this meant my amniotic fluid was leaking. Margie said it sounded like it was from the plug, and to call back if my contractions became frequent and painful. Derek worked and I rested and puttered around the house. Some time in the early afternoon, the contractions became painful enough that I had to stop what I was doing, but remained about 8 minutes apart. I insisted that we take down the Christmas tree and sort of followed Derek around the house trying to get him to read passages from “the Birth Partner” (which he’d already read anyway.) At some point we called our Moms and Briar and told them that we thought it was “really happening” because they had all wanted to try to be there. At about 6pm we called Margie again because the contractions were coming about every 4 minutes, although they were usually lasting about 45-50 seconds, not a full minute. I was coping at that point by vocalizing, holding on to Derek, or getting on my hands and knees and doing yoga “cat-cow” type rocking, and much of the time I was curled on the couch with the kitten curled next to me. Margie said it sounded like we could come to the birth center to get checked out, and we arrived there at around 7pm.

The labor nurse examined me and my current worst fear was realized: I was only dilated one cm! (Although 90% effaced.) The nurse sent us out to walk around for an hour to see if we could get me more dilated. Walking was quite difficult at that point since I had to stop about every 4 minutes to hold onto Derek and moan. The contractions were extremely painful. It felt weird to be walking around in that state. Derek and I walked to a restaurant that we knew of a couple of blocks away and ordered take-out pasta. There I was, contracting in the restaurant. It felt very surreal. When we returned, Derek ate his pasta (I was beyond eating at that point, I found) and the nurse examined and admitted me. I was still only dilated 2cm! At that point, the nurse manually stretched me to 5cm (not painful at all, actually) and I got into the birthing Jacuzzi to work through the contractions. The water was very relaxing and definitely helped with the pain. At this point, every thing gets blurry for me. I believe that I continued to progress fairly slowly. Briar arrived at around 10:30. At that point I was bellowing like a cow during contractions, but still joking and chatting in between. Margie arrived and offered to break my water to try to speed things up. I was scared that this would hurt, but agreed since things were taking so long. Margie broke my water in the Jacuzzi and there was a bit of meconium present. They didn’t seem too alarmed by this, but stated that I couldn’t have a water birth. I shrugged this off, since I felt that water birth was only one of many interesting options. Eventually I got out of the tub to see if things would progress faster out of the water. I continued to contract in several different positions. On the toilet, leaning over the birth ball, leaning against Derek, whatever. It really gets quite blurry at this point. Both Briar and Derek were AMAZING, one applying pressure to my back and the other holding my hands while I moaned through the contractions. Just having them there with me did enormous amounts for my sanity. The whole atmosphere in the room, between Bri, Derek, and the professionals (labor nurses and midwife) was very positive and encouraging. This kept me distracted and calm between contractions.

The rest of the night is a blur to me. It is quite difficult to remember the order in which things happened. It feels very non-linear to me. I remember that I wasn’t even really thinking about the passage of time, which is a damn good thing, since I was pushing on and off from about midnight until 5:56am when K. was (finally) born. It is best to refer to Bri’s account (www.unwellness.com) of this time period for all the gory details. In short, for much of the time I was “crowning cervix” meaning (I think) there was a lip of my cervix that hadn’t dilated, and was preventing the baby’s head from crowning, so that every time I pushed his head would basically hit up against a “wall”. The midwife thought she had gotten me to push past it, so I continued to push for quite awhile before they realized that I hadn’t. Finally, the labor nurse held it back while I pushed and I guess his head began to push through. Unfortunately, all that futile pushing (in many different positions) had left me quite exhausted and I probably wasn’t pushing quite as effectively once the pushes began to actually count. My contractions came spaced out further than most (about five minutes apart) and it got to the point where I would literally pass out between contractions. In addition, in retrospect it seems that the baby was a bit big for my body-type, which I think also presented a challenge. The baby’s heart rate began to go up, I guess because of the meconium and because it was taking so long. We non-professionals did not know what this meant. I can remember towards the end that before a contraction would begin, I could feel K. kicking up against the wall of my uterus, as though trying to push off. He would do this, then I would have a contraction. In a way, this kept me focused, as I felt we were working as a team together. The professionals became increasingly concerned about his heart rate, and Margie said that if I couldn’t get him out on the next push she would have to give me an episiotomy. At that point, I really didn’t give a damn, and unfortunately I did end up with the episiotomy, which felt like nothing, compared to everything else that was going on. I got him out on the next push, with lots of pushing and pulling from Margie. I felt like she was literally pushing her hand into every orifice in my body. I was so mad! I had my eyes closed for most of this time but I did see his body whip out of me. I believe my exact words were: “Oh my God, I’m so glad it’s over.”

Sadly, K. was immediately entubated as that had to suck the meconium out of his lungs. Then his breathing was labored, so that said they had to take him to the transitional nursery for observation. I was so out of it that I wasn’t terribly terrified, since the medical personnel seemed really calm about the whole thing. I got to hold him for a minute before he was taken off to the nursery. Derek went with him, and was with him in the nursery the whole time. Apparently he was comforted by sucking on Derek’s finger. I’m so thankful that Derek was able to be with K. and that Bri stayed with me while I was being sown up. K. was brought back to me about two hours later and thankfully, he took to breastfeeding despite the delay.

It was also really great that our families were there. Derek’s Mom and stepfather had driven all night from Annapolis and arrived at about 3am. My Mom and sister arrived about ten minutes after K. was born, having driven all night from Charlotte. What an amazing family!

Now, it’s so wonderful to have him here. I just can’t believe that this beautiful little person, who we are just getting to know, came from inside my belly, just a week ago.
Nonetheless, the labor itself was a brutal experience!

Interestingly, there are two issues that have come up for me about the birth that are worth pondering on the blogosphere. It definitely took Derek, Bri, and I several days to process the birth as I don't think any of us knew quite how intense it would be. It's the kind of thing you think you expect objectively, but until you've actually been through a birth you really can't possibly have a clue. The first is that in my intensely emotional-hormonal days immediately after, I felt extremely disappointed in myself that I was not one of those people who could push their baby out in fifteen minutes flat and that I had needed the assistance of an episiotomy to get him out. I felt like this was some reflection of weakness on my part and would break into tears about it, as though I were a bad mother. I really had these feelings. Now I feel more detached from them, and am able to feel proud of the fact that I pushed him out despite the odds, such as the cervix lip thing, which I had no control over. I wish I hadn't had these feelings of self-doubt over this experience. The further I get from it, the more I feel proud that I did it, but it was quite painful to have those feelings.

The second thing, and this really pisses me off even though it comes from a place of ignorance-not-malice, is that a few people (not anyone who reads this blog) have implied that things would have been easier for me if I had not had an unmedicated birth. This sentiment just brings back all those horrible feelings regarding the way women seem to judge each other and their birth experiences. Why are we so defensive about medicated vs. unmedicated birth? This was the birth experience that I wanted. Not the grueling pushing of course. But the overall experience. Pain management (although the pain was incredible) was not the issue for me. I never felt like asking for meds. I did have thoughts pop into my head such as "now I can understand why people schedule c-sections" as I was pushing, but I didn't literally want a c-section, and I'm still thankful that I didn't wind up having to have one. (and I realize that I'm quite lucky on this, that my labor could have easily fallen into the "failure to progress" category) But the fact that I was unmedicated had nothing to do with the fact that I was "crowning cervix" or the fact that I had a big baby. So if one more person tells me about someone who pushed their baby out in 15 minutes or 30 minutes "but then again she had an epidural" as though an epidural would have solved my problems, I might have to scream, fuck you, can we please stop judging each other.

All women who go through this process, no matter what tools they use, are amazing and brave.