Throughout my pregnancy, I just had a feeling my baby would arrive early. I was cautious to say that out loud, because I was also fully prepared to go 42 weeks.
The day before I went into labor, Jim & I walked around an outdoor shopping complex. We had lunch & enjoyed the weather. For days I’d been taking two walks (sometimes curb walking), bouncing on my ball, walking up the stairs sideways and continuing my yoga stretches. I didn’t want to rush her out, but at 38 weeks, I didn’t want to slow down the momentum. Remember, I was 80% effaced and almost 3cm dilated at 36 weeks.
On Friday the 13th, I worked in the morning as usual. Then I tweeted:
“I don’t want to sleep, eat, get dressed, go out, stay home or work. Perfect.”
I just couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do. I wanted to get a mani/pedi, but I told myself that if I went, I wouldn’t have the baby for 2 more weeks and would need another session anyway. But if I didn’t go, I would go into labor that night. I even sent this to my mom in a text.
I had been having regular contractions for days. Lower back pain that came around the front like menstrual cramps. I got a confirmation that they were in fact contractions when I was hooked up to a non-stress test on Monday. (I reported feeling her move less often, so my midwife hooked me up just in case). At 2:41 pm, I began timing them. I breathed through each one. They were totally manageable. They were lasting about 30 seconds and coming anywhere from 7-10 mins apart. Though sometimes they were much closer, I knew it wasn’t really happening. I planned on using the 5-1-1 rule (coming every five minutes, one minute apart, for one hour) before calling the birth center. I text Jim to let him know what was going on. I called my parents to make sure they weren’t going to extend happy hour past, well, happy hour. I wanted them to know we might need them to come sit with the dogs, as my closest family was out of town.
Of course, my mom made me call the midwife around 5pm. I explained what was happening and she said that it definitely sounded like early labor, but to ignore the contractions as much as possible. They weren’t painful, but ignore them, I could not. Looking back, I should have tried to sleep. They specifically told us in birth class not to sit up and time early contractions. Then again, they were coming so often and it was the middle of the day.
Around 7pm, I let Jim know he needed to come home. I was tired of being alone and wanted someone else here to time contractions…using my contraction app on my iPhone, of course. He came home around 8 and was quite calm. He kept talking about how we would be meeting our baby so soon. I absolutely could not get my head “there.” I felt guilty about this. For weeks every Braxton Hicks or practice contraction I told myself I was one step closer to meeting my baby. But now all I could focus on was the present (thanks yoga). One contraction at a time. After all, I had no idea if this would just stop. In fact, I was afraid it would. I couldn’t imagine this stopping and starting up again a few days later
I tried listening to positive birth affirmations on YouTube. They didn’t work. I walked though contractions, used the ball while on all fours, and in between them, I gathered up the last few things I needed. Somewhere in there I passed a bloody clot and some more blood. Around 8:30, they were lasting 50 seconds and averaging about 4 minutes apart. I called the birth center and Sarah, the midwife on call, got back to me. She stayed on the line with me through two contractions…I couldn’t talk through them and she could hear my labored breathing. She asked how long my drive would be and told me to head in. At 8:50 we agreed to meet in one hour
We gathered up the food & drinks. I kissed my babies, held them tight and got a little choked up knowing that when I saw them again, our lives would be transformed.
I was really afraid for the ride. I couldn’t imagine sitting upright through the contractions. I grabbed a blanket and pillow. Before we got out of our neighborhood, Jim asked if I was okay. I told him not to talk to me. With each contraction, I told myself it would be over in less than a minute. The drive wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
We arrived at the birth center just before 10 and Sarah was there preparing the room. Within a few minutes she asked if I wanted to be checked to see where I was. I wanted to know. She did the exam, which wasn’t painful at all. I was 6 centimeters! This was happening. I was relieved, but still, not excited. I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me.
My parents had made their way down and even though my mom really wanted to come to the birth center, I asked her to just stay with the dogs. Part of me knew that if they came, Jim would want to alert his parents and I wasn’t comfortable having them hear everything that was coming out of my mouth. I only dropped one F bomb, but the primal moaning was something I wanted to keep between the three of us.
It was quiet. I wanted it to stay that way. I felt guilty, but I needed the environment to remain just like this.
I walked, rocked and sometimes moaned though contractions. Sarah would come by with the Doppler & check the baby’s heartbeat every few minutes.
I was encouraged to drink & pee often, which I did. At some point she filled the tub and I got in. Being in there felt great…until I had a contraction. I couldn’t stay down. I kept lifting out and hanging over the side of the tub. The few times I stayed down, it felt good, but I could not get myself to stay down! It was in the tub that I spoke the words I think every laboring mother says “I just can’t do this anymore.” I got out of the water and in once again later on.
At around 2am Sarah checked me again and I was fully dilated. She said whenever I was ready to push, I could start. I don’t remember where I pushed first, but I started around 2:30. Because it was clear that I was done with the tub, Sarah suggested I use a birthing stool. I didn’t like it. But then again, I didn’t like pushing at all. Sarah kept going in there to stretch me, using some lube. I simply could not get the pushing down. At one point I asked her to stop with the lube and stretching. The whole breathe in-force your breath down-push like you’re having a bowel movement? Yeah, I never got it. I pushed for two hours. With each contraction, I could only muster up (or out?) two pushes. I think I should have been getting at least three. Several times I asked if the baby would ever come out, and what would happen if she did not. I was tired and felt like I was not making progress.
Sarah eventually called a nurse to have her come to the center. This made me feel like I was closer. She told me I should get on the bed and try pushing while lying on my side. Peggy arrived and the 4 of us gathered around the bed. I continued to push with each contraction and Jim started cheering me on too, as he could now see what was going on down there (poor guy). With each push, I was definitely letting out some pretty insane screams. Not like energy wasting, unnecessary screams, just like these body trembling, oh-my-god-please come-out-of-my-body screams. They kept telling me how much hair she had. After what felt like 10 or 15 minutes, she arrived at 4:52 am. As her body passed through me, I felt a huge, wet relief.
When they placed my little girl on my chest, I was still moaning and overwhelmed physically. She certainly had a ton of hair! Jim asked me if I was sure of her name and we announced: Elena Caroline. She was beautiful and she was finally ours.
Sarah told me I had torn my labia and perineum. She would have to stitch me up. I’ve never had stitches before, but she used Lidocaine and it was pretty painless. Though I was still quite cramp-y and uncomfortable. To be honest, that crazy, emotional feeling of joy never rushed over me. I didn’t cry like I thought I would. I felt like something just wasn’t right.
At some point Jim had called both of our parents.
The nurse Peggy helped Elena latch on (I was clueless as to what she was trying to show me) and she nursed briefly.
Before or after that, I delivered the placenta. Sarah brought it over to us and did a little show and tell with it.
Then Sarah and Peggy began the most obnoxious part of the labor process: massaging my uterus. I remember Peggy telling us in birth class that this is the part where we would want to kick the nurse or midwife. I wanted to kick and punch them. It hurt like hell. But it seemed like my uterus was clamping down and all was well.
My parents showed up around 6 and I must have handed Elena over to my mom. I decided I needed to get up and pee. Peggy and Sarah were not in the room at the time. I got up from bed to walk over to the bathroom and that’s when the bloody show began…
to be continued
