I was facebooking today and came upon a birth story recently written by a friend of mine. Her story was incredible and told of her three day un-pain-medicated labor and all that she went through to usher her son into the world. It reminded me that I should write down Jude's birth story before I forget, and that I am a total wimp in comparison.
Here's my story.
I do not like being pregnant. There was one day during this last pregnancy, only one day, where I felt really super amazing and thought, "This is actually pretty cool". I had so much energy I felt like I was on drugs. I stayed up all night painting the inside of a playhouse in my backyard, even though there were tons of beetles sneaking up on me and totally getting in the way of my art project. But seriously, it lasted one day. The rest of the time I felt tired, big, and generally annoyed. For me pregnancy is a means to an end, and I mostly wanted it to go by quickly and get on with my life.
Besides feeling blah while taking care of two toddlers, I was carrying baby J veeeery low. Right away he made his nest on my bladder and stayed there the entire time. Many of my maternity clothes didn't fit because the waistline (or, more appropriately, the "girthline" since there was no waist to speak of) couldn't stretch far enough and low enough to accomodate the baby that was doing his best to hang out with my knees. By about 30 weeks my Braxton Hicks contractions were strong and frequent. By 35 weeks I had them nearly every three steps that I took. I wish I were exaggerating. My belly was constantly hard and uncomfortable. By 38 weeks I was in full "barter with God" mode. "Dear Jesus, if you make the baby come today I will dedicate him to the church, full-on Hannah style. I'll even name him Samuel, pleeeeeeease?" I begged and pleaded with the baby to just come out already. I was so tired, so exhausted, and so uncomfortable that I almost wanted them to say "Oh! We have to induce you. Right now." Sounds silly. It's how I felt.
Thank God for the Olympics on tv 24 hours a day. I needed distraction.
My BH contractions got stronger every day, and since I didn't know what contractions felt like I was always wondering if my labor was starting. With the girls my water broke and I was having a c-section a few hours later. I had maybe three mild contractions. This was all new to me.
Friday August 24th- I wake up in my usual TOTAL GRUMP state. This morning though, I am not having it. I'm not dealing with toddlers, I'm not making everyone food, I'm not cleaning up, I'm not doing anything. Deal with it. Chad took the girls out. I rested. And was grumpy.
I had an OB appointment at 1:00. At this point I am 5 days overdue and ready to kill everyone. I stopped by Whole Foods on the way and noticed that my usual contractions were pretty strong and starting to develop a pattern, about every 10 minutes. I had experienced this probably fifty times before in the past four weeks, so I brushed it off. It was clear that the baby was never coming out and I was going to be enormously pregnant for life. I was coming to terms.
At the appointment my midwife once again pointed out how low the baby was. His head was so low that it was in the way of her getting to my cervix to check it. Like, she had to physically push it out of the way from the inside (NEAT-O). I was only 1-2 cm. Sigh. But my contractions were still pretty regular and she noticed that I broke out into a sweat with each one. She guessed that I would be in labor within 24 hours, and I nodded and smiled to make her feel good even though I knew he was going to stay in there indefinitely. I went home.
Per her suggestion, I took a bath. I was still not entertaining the idea that "today's the day!" but my contractions were so darn regular! I knew they were tricking me. I sat down with Chad and the kiddos and watched Ellen for an hour. Man, I love Ellen. Anyway I called out "write it down" every time I felt one start, and Chad would then obediently check the time and write it down. Throughout the whole show they were five minutes apart. Eh, not that painful, can't be real. I'm going to sit here, watch Ellen, laugh at her wit, and they will stop. See? It's been 5 minutes and...oh. Write it down.
Unfortunately Ellen came to an end and NOTHING comes on tv at 5:00 if you don't have cable. I was not about to count contractions to Judge Judy so we went on a walk.The contractions were still coming but I could walk through them, and gosh darn it if they weren't about every three minutes. By the time I waddled back to the house I was thinking, "Ok, self. It might be time to entertain the idea that you may, possibly, push a baby out tonight. Just give that thought a test-run in your brain and see what happens. No freaking out." And I immediately started freaking out.
I spent the next hour on the toilet. I was timing my contractions and they were two minutes apart. I was noticing that they were getting longer and starting timing that too. They were two minutes apart lasting a full minute each, some longer, for an hour. I came out of the bathroom and went into the kitchen where Chad was attempting to get our girls to eat dinner and said, "So, they're two minutes apart. How much longer should we wait?" How about NO MUCH LONGER YOU IDIOT! Oh self, how in denial you were. We did call my parents and told them to lazily make their way over to our house to watch the girls, no rush. We pulled out the suitcase. And then things got bad.
The next few contractions had me on the floor. I literally was crawling around my room trying to pack stuff into the suitcase while Chad was gathering power cords and batteries and tripods for various electronic devices that were absolutely necessary to bring with us to the hospital. Each contraction was stronger than the last, and eventually I was on my knees by the front door waiting to see my parents car drive up so Chad and I could leave. I was making crazy animal noises. I was crying. I was one enormous hot mess.
Listen, folks. I read all the books. I fully expected to have a long, drawn out labor with candles and massages where I knew what was happening and could center myself and connect with my baby and blah blah blah. It would be 18 hours and I would have relaxing music playing amd it would be awesome and spiritual and calm. Natural childbirth! I can do this! I'm a strong woman!
But this was not awesome. The ride to the hospital was nearly unbearable. I cried a lot. I had three contractions walking from the car to the front door, and we had a good parking spot. Are you LITERALLY going to make me sit in this lobby chair and sign this form right now? I SOUND LIKE A DYING ANIMAL, HELP ME! They finally got the hint and wheeled me to the room. Contraction after contraction was barrelling me over. I was loud. I kept apologizing. I was embarrassed. I was confused. Why is my body not giving me a break? Why won't it stop? Can I just have one full minute to gather myself? I know what you're all thinking. It's because she's in transition! She's 10 centimeters and the baby is crowning! The baby was halfway out and she didn't know it! No, my friends. I was not ready to push. I wasn't even close.
The miwdife checked me. I was three centimeters.
And in that moment, "epidural" went from a no to a YESSSSSSS!!!!! in my brain.
Why, why, why was I having so many very close contractions and was still only 3 cm? I will never know. I had practiced my "please don't offer us pain medication" speech in my head so many times, but now I was saying "YES!" every time she offered me anything. I couldn't imagine doing this for potentially hours to come. How long will it take to go from 3cm to 10cm? I did not want to find out unless I had something to help me. I felt totally and completely out of control, and here my midwife is telling me it could be a while. I agreed to the epidural, no second thoughts.
After forty minutes and twenty contractions, the epidural man came. He was beautiful. He was an angel. I had many, many contractions while he was giving me the epidural. It was absolutely terrible trying to sit still, but 15 minutes later I was in a land of bliss. I smiled, chatted with Chad, and watched Jimmy Kimmel. By this point they had broken my water. In not too long I was feeling a lot of pressure with each contraction. I knew it couldn't possibly be that I was ready to push, (I was 3 cm like an hour ago!) but I told the nurse anyway. She looked at me like I was an idiot and told me that it's just the epidural wearing off and to push my little button for a little extra surge of meds. I did. I still felt like I was going to poop all over everywhere with each contraction, and I told her so. She agreed to get the midwife to check me, and glory of glories I was 10cm! I was expecting the epidural to slow things down but no, when Jude finally decided it was time to come he came hard and fast.
The midwife came in, the lights were dim, and everything was really calm. I was glad to not fight the urge to push and very happy that this all was almost over. Jude's heart rate was more stable when I was on my side, so I pushed from that position. In about 40 minutes (I was an awesome pusher, for real! At least I didn't suck at everything), my little man came into this world. They laid him on my chest and I felt his little wet and warm body for the first time. That moment was the whole reason I fought for this VBAC instead of a repeat cesarean. I will never forget the feeling of his skin under my fingers or his 7lb 8oz weight on my chest. He was calm but very alert. He was perfect. He was mine.
Just like everything else in life, this labor and delivery did not go as planned. I had wanted a homebirth, but no midwives were taking VBAC clients. I had hoped to not be overdue and I was. I thought I was going to be in control of my labor and would have a while to warm up to the idea and to the pain, but in an hour my contractions went from bearable to incredibly intense and one after another. I had wanted it to be drug-free but choosing an epidural was the right thing for me in that moment. I had hoped I wouldn't tear or need stitches and I did. But really, none of that matters anymore. Now, it's just a story. It's the first chapter in Jude's story, and now we're onto chapter two. Chapter two is where the cutest baby in the world has an obsessive mommy who watches him sleep and cries when he smiles at her. Stay tuned for chapter three :)
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