So...you know how they say that there's a sort of labor amnesia that occurs the moment a squawking newborn is placed wriggling in your arms? I'm sort of suffering from that combined with a case of mommy brain these days, so I won't claim that all the details of this story are entirely on the mark, but the over-riding themes, I'm sure, will certainly shine through.
I think it's safe to say that we all know by now that I've had a desire to have a completely natural labor since before Sofie was born. We spent the time leading up to her birth taking Bradley classes, practicing labor positions, and reading lots of birth stories. I had definite ideas about my desires for her birth, wrote up a pretty detailed labor plan, and then things pretty much went the opposite of what I had planned for. And then a strange thing happened. Even though I didn't ultimately end up with the birth that I had hoped for I had an amazing experience anyway, and more importantly I had this perfect tiny creature who was, in effect, changing everything I thought I knew about anything and making me love the ride in the mean time. I suppose Sofie's birth and her influence on my life in these past two years had a profound effect on how I formulated my labor expectations with Evander. This time around, while I still harbored desires for a natural birth, I was much more cautious about my expectations. I told everyone who asked that I was trying to keep an open mind about labor and we'd just have to wait and see how it went. I didn't write a birth plan, reasoning with myself that if I didn't set myself up with any ideals I wouldn't feel disappointed if they weren't met. What I did do was, mostly very quietly, read a lot of very motivational and empowering books and birth stories. I was also pretty diligent with my red raspberry leaf tea (for uterine toning) and evening primrose oil (for the prostoglandins) as well as continuing to nurse Sofie (for nipple stimulation) and staying very active right up until the end (we went to the fair on Monday, splash pad on Tuesday, had a day of appointments on Wednesday, and then delivered Thursday morning).
The one thing that I did have my little heart set on was going into labor on my own this time, since that was something I didn't get to experience when Sofie was born, and I was trying my darndest to maintain a patient and positive attitude, though I was getting more antsy as we were drawing nearer and nearer to that magical two weeks past the due date marker. I had felt that my body was revving up to go into labor most of the evenings in the week or two leading up to the real deal, with cramps, hot flashes, and Braxton Hicks contractions, but every morning I'd wake up feeling just fine once again. I mentioned it to my midwife at an appointment and she said that hormones spike during the hours of about 5 PM and 2 AM and that was why I was feeling so many pre-labor symptoms at night. So, when I was extra crampy on the evening following my non-stress test and ultrasound I felt hopeful but not overly so, and when I started having whimpy little contractions around midnight, just slightly different from the Braxton Hicks I'd been having for months, I decided to try timing them on a whim but already knew I wasn't taking anything seriously until after 2 AM...and I certainly wasn't going to stay up until 2 AM timing whimpy little contractions when I could be resting my body in preparation either for the hard parts of labor ahead of me, or for another morning of waking up feeling just fine and trying to keep up with a two year old! It turned out that the "contractions" were coming pretty consistently at about nine and a half minutes apart and I headed to bed once again thinking that maybe tonight would be the big night.
I woke up several times to go to the bathroom during the night, which was pretty typical at that point, and around 5:30 AM I decided maybe I'd stay up a bit and see if I was still having contractions. So I headed out to the living room and pulled up a really cool website called "Contraction Master" and spent some time logging contractions while I surfed the net. As the time neared 6 AM it was clear that my contractions, which were a bit stronger at this point but still not all that painful, were coming consistently at around five and a half minutes apart. I made a call to Nana to tell her that I was FINALLY in labor and it was FINALLY time to head over to keep on eye on Sofie while we traveled to the hospital to meet our new little guy. After I got off the phone with her I went and took a shower and then flipped on the bedroom light to finish packing my hospital bag. Ben, still completely unaware of what was happening at this point, groggily protested, "Sam! What are you doing?" I told him I was packing my hospital bag and he responded, "Do you need the light on for that?!" I snapped back, "I'm in labor!" He wasn't quite convinced as I explained that Nana was on her way and that he should probably consider getting up and getting himself ready because we would be leaving for the hospital soon. I walked back into the bathroom to finish up my morning routine and he appeared a few minutes later, a little more awake this time, and asked me how sure I was that I was really in labor. By this time my contractions were strong enough that they were requiring me to take little breaks to lean against the wall or flop on the bed and I told him I was 100% sure. His response was, "So I can email work?" and I said, "Yes!" I went back out into the living room and resumed timing my contractions. They were mostly coming about five minutes apart, but sporadically I was having some at just three and four minutes apart. I decided I should probably call the midwives and let them know that we would soon be heading in. It was almost 7 AM. I called the answering service, told them I was in labor, and they let me know that they'd relay the message to the midwife on call (Nadia) and that I should hear from her within fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes ticked by...I started seeping myself some really potent red raspberry leaf tea with all the tea bags I had left and continued to track my contractions. I called the answering service back and let them know that I had not received a call. Again I was told that someone would call within fifteen minutes. This time I had barely hung up when I received a call back from Nadia. She asked me some basic questions...How long have you been in labor? How far apart are your contractions? How long was your first labor? Which hospital are you delivering at? I don't think she was quite convinced that I was really in labor because she told me to go ahead and head in to the hospital, but she kept saying things like, "If you're in labor they'll admit you." She also told me that Cathy Mihalic was actually the midwife on call. Cathy...who I hadn't had a single appointment with during my entire pregnancy. Oh well!
It wasn't long after I'd hung up with Nadia that Nana and Grandma arrived. Ben was still putzing around getting himself ready at this point and I was resting on the couch. I asked Nana to make me some peanut butter toast, anticipating that I would be needing some fuel for a full day of laboring. She did, but when she brought it to me I took one bite and was so uninterested in eating that I could barely swallow it. Looking back, I suppose that should have been a sign to me that I was further along in the process than I thought I was. Sofie woke up around 7:30 and I went in to cuddle her a bit and spent a few minutes nursing her, as is our morning routine. I really wanted to spend that special time with her...the last little bit of time that it would be just her and I, but it was cut quite short because I was pretty uncomfortable and having a hard time trying to mask that discomfort so she wouldn't be frightened. I did get to explain to her that today was going to be the day that Mommy and Daddy went to the hospital to have the baby and that Nana and Grandma were there and they were going to look after her while we were gone. Then we headed out to the living room and I told her to eat my peanut butter toast :) At this point I was pretty ready to get going and Ben still hadn't emerged from his putzing. I remember shouting, "Ben? What are you doing?!! Let's go!" Before we headed out I took a (very uncomfortable) trip to the bathroom and had lots of bloody show. I grabbed a beach towel on my way out, just in case! Ben pulled the van up to the door and Nana and Sofie walked me down to it. Sofie was upset. She could tell that something wasn't quite right and had a hard time letting us go.
Our forty minute ride to the hospital was mostly uneventful. I asked Ben to drive very carefully and smoothly because I was really trying to concentrate on relaxing my body through each contraction and I was very sensitive to the slightest bit of tension. I sat and sipped my tea between contractions. It was during the ride that I decided I was totally getting an epidural. I was still managing my contractions very well, but they were so uncomfortable, and heck if I was going to go through that for another six hours (which for some reason was the amount of time I had decided I had left to labor). I was likely in transition, but I had no idea at the time. I kept myself together until we were within sight of the hospital and Ben was trying to decide where to park. Then I finally snapped, "Just park!" We should have used the valet, but we parked in the garage instead. As Ben parked I was finishing up a contraction and I informed him that I wasn't going to wait around while he gathered our things. Instead I took off towards the hospital, hoping to use the time between contractions to my advantage.
I made it into the building before the next contraction hit, and Ben came following behind me with a wheelchair that I gladly sat down in. He wheeled me towards labor and delivery, following the hospital signs, until we stopped at a door and it was then that we realized that we still had to walk across the street to the main hospital and we couldn't take the wheelchair with us. I got up and high-tailed it across that street before the next contraction hit, right as we made it to the building. I leaned against the cement wall outside the hospital and breathed through it completely aware of, yet oblivious to, the other patients milling around me. The doorman asked Ben if we needed a wheelchair, then went to retrieve one for us, which I again gratefully sat down in. Ben wheeled me in and we went up to labor and delivery where we were kindly greeted by...No One! Just a sign that said something to the effect of, "If you need the receptionist, call this number." So Ben called. And then we waited. And waited. And I had a couple more uncomfortable contractions. And finally, after what seemed like forever but was probably no more than five minutes, the receptionist came out to check us in. I had a couple more contractions during the process and I would sort of just zone out during them, close my eyes and get very quiet. She seemed used to it and kept saying things like, "When this one is over I need you to sign this." and "Go ahead and breathe through your contraction and then I need your insurance card."
When she was finally done, a nurse came and wheeled us into triage. She asked if I needed to use the restroom before I changed into one of those lovely hospital gowns and I said yes. What a mistake! I had a pretty rotten contraction while in the bathroom by myself, and lots more blood. Somehow I made it into the triage room, into the hospital gown, and onto the bed where the midwife on duty, Cathy, came in to check me out. The first thing I said to her was, "I'm pretty uncomfortable. I'd like an epidural please." She responded with, "Ok. Well, let's see how far along you are. What are you hoping for? Seven?" I sort of snort-laughed and said, "That would be nice!" She then proceded to check my dilation and said, "Well...how about eight to nine?" And then my jaw hit the floor! It was such exciting news for me. While I had been planning on an epidural for most of our ride to the hospital the whole time I was secretly thinking to myself..."Unless I'm really far along. Then I think maybe I can do this." Cathy said, "I'll gladly get you an epidural if you want it, but I think you're just going to have this baby." I asked her if there was a birthing tub available, remembering how much relief that had provided me when I was in labor with Sofie. She wasn't quite sure, but restated that she didn't think I'd have time for it anyway because this baby was pretty much ready to be born. So I decided...Ok!...let's go for it. This was what I had wanted and hoped for all along, and here was this midwife making it sound like I could do it. So I got in a wheelchair and they wheeled me down to a delivery room, all the while chirping things like..."She's nine centimeters! She was just sitting out there at check in as calmly as can be!"
We got to our room and I transferred to the bed where I insisted on sitting bolt upright, because it was the only position remotely comfortable to me. From this point on there were about 4-6 women fluttering around me. (The midwife, a midwife in training, a nurse, a nursing student, and who knows who else!) They were such an incredible source of encouragement. From the time I sat down in that bed they never stopped praising me. It was an endless stream of things like, "You are doing so well." directed towards me and "You can barely tell she's having a contraction by looking at her!" muttered softly to one another. And here is where I will take a little public service break to say that if you are ever blessed to be present while a woman is laboring the most amazing thing you can do for her is to tell her how freaking awesome she is doing. It is the craziest thing because she will believe you and it will give her the confidence to do even more awesome. Those women were like a choir of angels to me. They fluttered around getting things ready, starting an IV ( I was group B strep positive again), and asking me more questions.
(Busy worker bees.)
I had such an amazing awareness of my surroundings that I wasn't expecting. I had imagined that in order to really have control over my contractions I would need to zone out and sort of take myself to another place, and while I did do my share of zoning...head down, body still, eyes closed, deep breaths...I was completely aware of everything that was happening in the room.
(Contraction)
I would often come out of my contractions and chime in on whatever side conversations the crew was having. Once, the midwife was chatting with the nurse about the large amount of women she was watching over that day (full moon) and I 'came to' and remarked, "Don't rush me!" and giggled :) My contractions were around two to three minutes apart and I could feel them changing into the pushing contractions I'd read and heard about. They were stretching out quite long and sometimes peaking more than once before they released. The crew kept asking me if I felt like I needed to push and I kept responding that I did feel pressure but I didn't think I was ready to push. They wanted to know if I thought I could use the restroom and I told them that I did feel like I needed to pee but remembering my two horrible restroom experiences and not wanting to move out of my upright position I was reluctant to let them help me to the bathroom. I finally relented, had no relief, and a third painful restroom experience. At some point I had remarked that I was having some back labor, a clear sign of a posterior baby, and was encouraged to try changing positions, but Nope! I was feeling quite good about sitting on the bed upright with my legs crossed and I was not about to move. Everyone was pretty good about allowing me to do what I needed to do and not pushing me to do anything I wasn't comfortable with. Later Ben remarked to me that he got the feeling that they all knew that I was ready to deliver the baby and sensed that I was holding back. I imagine he was probably right. I was sort of apprehensive about moving into the pushing phase. I had so much desire to experience that whole pushing thing, but it was also the only part of labor I hadn't been through before and wasn't quite sure what to expect.
Finally I was coaxed to lay down so that my progress could be checked, and when they determined that all that I had left was an anterior lip they convinced me that we should break my water. This was another piece of labor I was apprehensive about since it's not hard to find a woman who will tell you that contractions hurt a heck of a lot worse after your water is broken. But I also knew that breaking the water can really move things along and it was nearing time for me to push. So they tried to break the bag of waters, and they tried again...and again...and remarked that it must be made out of canvas or something :) They tried a few more times (quite a strange friction-y feeling) and were finally successful. They had me roll onto my left side immediately and things got real intense real fast. I had two or three (?!!>?) extremely painful contractions (That choir of angels got really LOUD..."You can do this!!" and Ben was right by my side quietly rubbing my arm and keeping me as centered as possible.) and this crazy incredible force took over my body and just started pushing. It was the most terrifying and amazing experience I've ever had. The way I've been describing it, and I think it's actually a pretty decent description, is that it's similar to the forceful and uncontrollable muscle contractions that happen when you throw up. I was encouraged to roll onto my back and join my body in pushing. I roared through two contractions, as the baby turned just like Sofie had from posterior to right occiput anterior, and I was jolted from my intense concentration by a voice saying, "Reach down and grab your baby!" And so I did. My hands pulled one warm, wriggling, BIG baby boy right up onto my belly. And all at once we were a family of four :)
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