Mama's Version

Friday’s Facebook status read: “I could not feel any less labor-y.” On Saturday, February 12^th I slept in late and when I woke up went to help set up for the Friends auction. I only made it an hour before I realized that dealing with the contractions and the people was becoming annoying to me. I called one of our doulas, Stacie, and she laughed and said it was a good sign. I told her it could be a nothing and that it could be two more weeks.

I kept contracting through the day and by 6:00pm I knew it was serious. Sarah Grace was being a little wild and I decided that I really couldn’t have her at the birth. We called my grandmother but she wasn’t home so we called my parents and they said they would be happy to have SG spend the night with them. Mark left to get us dinner and we ate Schlotskys. After that he went to pick up our bedframe from my grandmother’s and dropped SG off. During that time I cleaned the house, did laundry and chatted with Erin on i-chat. The contractions got as close as 2.5 minutes apart but I knew they weren’t long enough or intense enough to bring the baby. To get through each one I danced and sang. I was excited and Mark commented how I was still smiling through each contraction.

Mark came home and immediately began putting the bed together, put up the cosleeper and installing the carseat. It was amazing. After that I decided that he should get some rest. I took a bath and tried to rest but it wasn’t working. I worked through my contractions well and ate again. At around midnight I talked to our other doula, Robin and told her that it might be a false alarm, they were spacing out. She suggested I rest, no matter what but told me that slowing down did not mean stopping. I got a little sleep as the contractions spaced out to about 15 minutes apart but the contractions laying on my side were terribly painful. At 2am I decided I could not lay down anymore, could not take the fact that they had slowed but not gone away. I got up and worked through more contractions. I asked Mark to wake up, turn on the lights and help me deal. Instinctively I knew that turning on the lights would bring the contractions back full-force. At 3am the contractions had gone back to 5 minutes apart and were much more intense. I called the doulas and they made their way over.

With the doulas we labored in the living room. I used the birth ball, the glider and we chatted and laughed. Everyone was helpful during contractions, giving back rubs, encouragement and playing music to keep the mood light. We listened to David Sedaris as a labor tradition. I wanted everyone to feel comfortable and hoped that Robin and Stacie would make themselves at home. We began packing our hospital bag and I took another bath to deal with the contractions. I sang my way through contractions, somehow thinking that no one would hear me since the water was running and the fan was on (they heard.) I remember Robin at one point asking Mark if our things were in the car already and I thought “could we be close to going to the hospital?” Not too long after I asked if the contractions “were close enough?” and everyone asked me “close enough for what?” I said “active labor” and I remember being confused at the collective giggle. In my mind I knew that this was active labor but I was afraid to call it that and be wrong. I said that I would like to go to the hospital and be at least 5cms dilated. Everyone agreed that we could go and if they said that I wasn’t, we could return back home. We began making preparations to leave and I worried because my contractions were spacing out. They promised me it was just preparation for the change.

Robin went through Starbucks and Stacie went home to nurse her little one as Mark and I drove to the hospital. We pulled in the front entrance and I remembered that it was Sunday so we walked through the hospital to the ER. I told the registrant that the contractions were three minutes apart and I knew the other people were watching me as I paced and walked the waiting room contracting over and over again. They brought me a wheel chair and I asked to walk upstairs.

They took us up to the tub room, got a saline lock, got the monitoring started and checked me. I was 7cm’s, 90% and -2! I was so relieved. This was really it (and I wasn’t complaining for nothing!) The doulas joined us and celebrated the good news. Our midwife Beth also came and checked in on us. After that I got in the tub and it felt really nice. Beth commented that she had just posted on her FB status that her patient was 7cm’s and “it could be 10 minutes or it could be 3 hours.” In hindsight, I wish I hadn’t latched on to that “3 hours” comment. Our choir director called from church (in front of the whole choir) and Mark gave him the most vague response I’ve ever heard. We didn’t really want people to know we were laboring but figured they knew, anyway.

The next few hours have already become a blur for me. This is a blessing. I remember being in intense pain. I can’t really put it any other way. I tried many different things, dancing, rocking, birth ball, tub, sitting on the bed, etc. I was getting tired and frustrated. I wanted out of the pain. I wanted to stop throwing up. I told everyone these things over and over. Mark was AMAZING. He anticipated my every need. Little things like having my skirt ready to put back on after I went to the bathroom made a huge difference for me. I remember at one point being on the toilet and saying “I can’t” and Mark looked at me in the eyes and saying “You can and you are. You are amazing.” It helped so much. The doulas did a great job of suggesting new positions, ideas, reminding me to be positive and say “I want to meet my baby.” Everyone told me I was doing great but I didn’t feel like I was doing great.

When I continued to complain about wanting it to be over and wanting medication, Beth suggested I be checked. I jumped at the chance. She didn’t announce the dilation. I said “That means I’m still a 7.” She said it was actually 7-8 and the baby had moved down to -1 and I was now 100% effaced. I was discouraged.

The pain continued to wear on me and I kept telling people that my pelvis felt like it was going to explode. Robin suggested that I try to give a little grunty push at the top of each contraction. This hurt but I kept trying. Finally when they said it for the 100^th time I realized they were right, the pain was the baby moving into the pelvis. It was a good thing. I didn’t see it that way. I remember using the words “cruel” several times and telling them that “This is not transition talking, I really want an epidural. I cannot do this anymore.” I thought people weren’t hearing me. Everyone commented that I was being pessimistic, which is unlike me. I said “Pessimism never lets you down” and they laughed. They would always tell me how great I was doing and make another suggestion. There was back rubbing, hip squeezing and a lot of positive talk in my ears. Robin tried to help me remember that this was about my baby. I was not kind. I yelled at Robin to stop telling me what to do (after I walked in the bathroom after that I realized how mean that was and apologized.)

I’m told that while I was in the bathroom Robin was helping to assure our midwife and nurse that I did not want medication and that she and I had talked extensively before the birth. While I whined, I worried because Mark looked pained seeing me hurt. He promised me that he wasn’t upset. I didn’t want to scare him.

At some point I decided I was GOING TO GET THE BABY TO MOVE DOWN. I took my watch off and told Mark “I’m surrendering this” and he thanked me. I tried doing the squats Robin suggested and Mark helped hold me up. I swayed my hips like crazy and I marched big steps around the room. I visualized my pelvis opening in any way possible. Stacie laughed and said that I moved very fast for a woman in labor. She was calm and quiet and there for me with physical and emotional support. Our friend Erin knew I was in labor and sent encouragement via texts to Robin.

I must say through the whole experience our labor nurse, Ashley, was fantastic. She leaned over the tub to monitor, swayed with me and even as I apologized for being hard to keep track of she said “Do not apologize. Do what you need to do.” She monitored me on the birth ball and I came up with a new strategy. I became very calm and focused on a little light on the TV. I would count down from 45 through each contraction. They hurt like crazy. I tried counting from 0 up once and found that it made the contraction seem too long. Stacie reminded me that I had to go through the pain to get to the other side. I again begged for the epidural. They suggested other things and when I spotted the midwife in the room I asked her directly. Robin asked me to be checked first (great idea!!) I agreed. Beth checked me and said “You are 9, how about you just push and I’ll hold this lip back?”

Hooray! That was fine with me. I wanted to be finished with pain, no matter what. I celebrated inside when they turned on the baby warmer. That meant I was getting close. They put the squat bar on the bed but squatting put the baby in a funny position and hurt. I put my feet on the bar at Robin’s suggestion and pushed. It hurt. My water broke and the fluid was clear but because the baby’s head was in the way, it wasn’t coming out very much. I asked if it mattered that I was pushing without the contractions. Pushing with the contractions hurt more than without because it did more. Beth held the lip back and in the beginning every time she held the lip and I pushed I held back because it hurt. I screamed. Beth said she knew it hurt. Then she said “The only thing keeping you from holding your baby is your fear of pain.” I decided no matter how much it hurt, I was getting the baby OUT. I pushed and pushed. Mark began to cry and I asked what the matter was. He couldn’t talk and just kissed me on the forehead. Robin told me he was crying because he was proud of me.

I watched the mirror for the baby’s head and Beth said “go on and call nursery, we’re going to have this baby soon.” Hooray! Robin took my hands and put them on my belly and reminded me to feel my pregnant belly one more time and try to remember this. When I finally saw the head Beth said “this could be your last contraction.” It hurt to have the head right there but I pushed hard and the head came out. I went to reach down to catch but had to wait a second to push the shoulders out. After they were out I reached down and brought him up to me. I saw that he was a boy but didn’t want to announce because that was Mark’s job. All I could say was "Praise God! Oh, thank you Lord" over and over again. We told Mark to look and he said “It’s a boy!” Our Solomon. Total pushing time was less than 30 minutes. I also immediately thanked everyone for not letting me get the epidural. We began making calls to share the good news.

Solomon stayed skin to skin and nursed immediately. He stayed latched on for two hours! Mark told me he was so proud of me and I thanked God for our blessing. Our doulas went downstairs to get us something to eat and met us in the postpartum room. I ate a grilled cheese and then we settled in. Later we went with him to the nursery where they weighed him in at 8lbs 12oz.

This birth was so tough. It hurt. I do not yet have the “I did it!” feeling that I had after Sarah Grace’s birth. I’m embarrassed that I begged for drugs for the last four hours of his birth. It proves to me that with a great team, you can have the birth you want even when you get in your own way. Everyone at the birth had an important role and I am so glad we chose the team we did. I am proud that I had no medications, I am proud that I pushed him out with no tearing at all and that I did 28 hours of labor. I am proud that he is healthy. Solomon is a blessing and his birth was a blessing.