The birth of my small man. (Really LONG)
Birth story
Well, I didn't start writing this till my baby was 8 months old, and he is now on the cusp of 14 months and I have finally finished it! The time lapsed means the chronology is a little blurred, and there are probably lacunae everywhere, but here it is anyway!
While I was pregnant I read lots of books and scanned internet sites, and was fairly big on researching everything! In general some of my assumptions/ideas about the birthing process were as follows:
1) I would get a 'feeling' when labour was approaching. A friend of mine had told me how she had felt different for a couple of days beforehand, and I considered myself fairly in tune with my body. I expected to 'feel in my waters' that labour was close.
2) That I would probably have a fairly short-ish labour. My mother had a 6 hr labour with me (her first), and my sister had a 6 hr labour with her first. I figured it probably ran in the family.
3) I would have a fairly straightforward, uncomplicated labour. For similar reasons to above, plus I have had these 'child-bearing hips' all my life, I figured they must be good for something, (and that something was probably child-bearing!!)
4) I was, in a strange abstracted way, looking forward to the 'challenge' of labour. I was interested, curious I guess about what the sensations would be like. I thought it was cool that in every other circumstance pain was a signal that something was wrong, something was bad, but here it was just part of a process, and a very worthwhile process at that! I thought I probably had a fairly high pain-tolerance (that said, I am not really sure what I based that on), but was also open to the thought of an epidural (although, with a needle phobia, the epi itself was a fairly scary concept to me.)
5) The main thing I was scared of was having an episiotomy.
The main thing I really noticed that was different about Thursday was that I sat on the couch all day and did very little. Prior to this I had been rushing around trying to do a million things, nesting (cleaning out cupboards, which is hardly typical behaviour for me!) and also make the most of my last-ever-'holiday'-just-on-my-own. But this day I thought, "stuff it", and just watched videos. The previous night I had had my usual movie-watching night with the girls. One of my friends was going away for a week and I had told her not to worry, I wouldn't be having the baby till after she got back. My husband and I still didn't have a name for our expected son, and he still had lots of preparation to do at work before taking the month he planned to take of leave.
I felt tired all day, and kept getting these 'gas' pains from the baby pressing on important bits. I would get the pain, go up the stairs to the bathroom, and then the pain would pass. I went to the bathroom quite a lot that day, and I remember thinking "geez, again?" as the gassy pressure returned. My husband got home that evening, and I told him that the baby had been pressing on me and making me uncomfortable all day, and that I would probably still be getting pains, but what the hey, let's go out for Mexican!
I had a few pains while out at dinner, and shifted around uncomfortably in my seat to try and alleviate them. The conversation over dinner consisted mainly of me declaring that I didn't think the baby would be arriving any time soon. It was our first child, so we figured he might be late, and he wasn't even due for another 5 days! (And I was not totally sure about my dates, our original due date had been another 5 days later again.) I thought we had at least a week, more probably two - which suited both of us, because we didn't feel ready yet (and of course - no name).
We came home and started watching a West Wing episode. It was during this time that I noticed I would get one of the pains, causing me to shift around, then the pain would go... without me having done anything... then, after a few minutes... the pain would come back again... in a way that was rather... regular... (here my brain sat up and looked around suspiciously). After the WW had finished (hehe, very considerate), I mentioned this to my husband, and said I didn't think it was labour... but I guess it might be! We kind of flurried around a bit then, saying to each other many times - maybe it is false labour, people get that! Or, pre-labour, which can happen for days and days before the baby arrives! Pre-labour! False labour! While we were busy saying this to each other a lot, we timed the pains, which were coming about every 3 minutes now. Hmmm. We still didn't really think it was labour, but we thought we might put the hospital bag in the car anyway! I still shake my head at the fact that, after all of my reading and preparation, at 10.30 that night I was on the internet googling "What does labour feel like?" Heh. Somewhere in among all that we rang the hospital; they didn?t really seem that excited, and told us not to come in until the pains (still not really ready to call them contractions by this point!) were lasting longer and were too intense to handle. (At this point they were only 20ish seconds.) My husband spoke to them again sometime shortly after midnight, with much the same result.
So that was the start of a pretty fun night (joke!). I laboured that whole night at home, and neither of us slept at all. We were so tired though (having not slept well the night before either for a reason I forget now), that we were almost dropping off to sleep together between contractions (but as they continued to be between 3-5 minutes apart, it didn't really work.) I got in and out of the shower a couple of times and would rock back and forth under the water while my husband wrote timings down on a piece of paper. (We probably timed way more than we needed to, we still have that paper, covered in times.) The contractions never really lasted longer than 30 seconds, and were definitely uncomfortable, in that I couldn't do anything else while riding them out, and would move all over the place trying to find a position that would make it better. There was no way I could sleep through them.
At just after 5 in the morning we decided to go to the hospital. I said to my husband he should call the hospital first, but he said he would call them from the car. He basically phoned and said firmly "We're on our way now", not giving them a chance to suggest we stay at home. I was still unsure as to whether I was just making a big fuss, and would be told to go home and come back later, and that nothing had really happened yet.
I remember the strange pre-dawn drive to the hospital, although I can't remember thinking anything in particular. I wasn't excited, or scared, or overly-pained, or anything recognisable, just there. When we arrived at the hospital someone said that now they were full, couldn't take anyone else, would be "locking the doors behind us" so to speak. We were the last before they went onto bypass, and were originally taken to the 'overflow' room. It was much much smaller and less nice than the other regular birthing suites. I was given a hospital gown to put on (so much for all that deliberating about what I would wear during labour!) and I was attached to the machine that I forget the name of, and she examined me (which I was expecting to hurt but didn?t really at all) and said I was 5cm dilated. So, progress had been made, and I was in labour, and coming in to the hospital had been fair enough, and they weren't going to tell me to go back home! Hurrah!!
I think I expected to get a lot more attention from the medical staff than I got for those first few hours. My memory is of being left alone for a lot of the time, I would walk around the small room and rest on the bed. Shortly after we first arrived I heard someone in one of the other birth suites yelling "Get it out!" We got a hot-wheat pack at some point which was great; when a contraction hit my husband would press the hotpack into the small of my back, and I would lean back and put almost all of my weight on him (and all of my weight being of course a lot more than usual, he told me later that he got quite a work out!) The pressure was good.
At one point we went for a small walk to look in the ncu-window. My husband told me later that the staff had commented on how smiley I was (I tend to do this in times of stress for some reason). This is where my memory gets a bit foggy as well, I know they called my obstetrician when the hour became decent (must have been at least 8 by then), and I?m pretty sure I can remember him visiting while I was still in the small room, but I can't remember what he did. After an hour or so we decided to ask for an epidural. It wasn't that I thought I MUST have one, it was more that I thought well, this feels pretty unpleasant and uncomfortable, and it is going to get worse! So it turns out that I was a bit scared of labour after all; and the bit I was scared of was the diagram they drew us on the whiteboard at the antenatal class we attended ? they drew hills to resemble contractions, with peaks closer together as labour progressed, and for transition they drew lots of little jagged points on the peak, like spiky teeth. I was scared of those spiky teeth!
At some point (due to my husband being persistent ? something he is quite good at!) we were moved into the large nice birthing suite. I was given an iv drip (can't quite remember why? to keep my energy levels up??) but I wasn't too concerned as I could still move and walk around the bed, and I had been doing a lot of walking around and didn?t really feel the need to go too much further anymore. The thought of a shower or bath didn't appeal either. I think it was my obstetrician who put the drip in, but I could be wrong. I didn't like having it put it, as I am still wary of needles. I do remember that shortly after I had it in my wrist started puffing up, as I think all of the fluid was going to the wrong place, and another doctor came in and adjusted it.
It was a good thing I wasn't desperate for the epidural, because it was a good 4 or 5 hours before we had an anaethetist. I should point out that I have had a needle-phobia most of my life, although I have gotten over it to a great extent from the exposure therapy of having to get blood taken many times while pregnant and trying to get pregnant. This was still something I was quite nervous about. The anaethetist was young and friendly. My husband held my hands and said "don't...move", and I felt the strange threading sensation, and we luckily were not interrupted by any contractions and we were done and I felt a huge relief.
A bit after that I was asked if I felt the edge was being taken off the contractions. "Umm..." I said, thinking that I didn?t understand all of the fuss about the epidural as my contractions were still decidedly niggly and uncomfortable. I was now sitting on the bed. I was asked a few more times but didn't have any better answer to give. After a while the anaesthetist tested my legs with ice, and when I felt that she realized that the epidural hadn't worked. SO I HAD TO HAVE ANOTHER ONE!!! Crikey. I did feel a small flash of panic at the thought of that - I had steeled myself, been strong, only to realize it was all for naught and we had to start again. Did I mention I used to have a needle-phobia?? But the second one was easier than the first, I suppose because the local was still numbing my back. I did ask "so if it didn't work, then where was all that anaesthetic going?" And was told "Nowhere important." Oh-kay.
The second epi was much more successful, although I could still feel some tightening in my right side when the contractions hit. I watched the contractions on the graph (forget again what that machine was called). I think it was shortly after the epi that my obstetrician came in, examined the graph and said that the contractions weren't as strong or close together as he would like and wanted to give me syntocin. (The artificial oxytocin). He also said I was quite dilated and could probably begin pushing now if I wanted. At the time I was pretty wary of interventions, and the whole point of having the epidural had been to have a bit of a rest because I was quite exhausted after having not slept. So I said we wanted to see how we went without the syntocin for a while longer. Later the midwife said something along the lines of that it would have been a lot more work if I had started pushing then as the baby was still quite high up. (I didn't quite get this at the time, see my other labour-misconception that I talk about later.) So I'm really glad we stuck to our guns at that point. (I think maybe the ob wanted to get me finished so he could get it all over and done with, but maybe I am being unfair.)
Rested for a bit which was nice. My husband got to eat my lunch and I was really jealous! At some point I had a top-up to the epidural, which I remember making no difference at all (I don't know what it is with me and epidurals, they are not really that effective for me, I am pretty sure I won't have one next time.) A while after that the midwife said I was good to go for pushing. There had been some mention previously about me getting the thing to the epidural that I could top-up myself by pressing a button or something, but this didn?t end up happening, I think because it was all expected to happen quickly now. I was sitting upright on the bed, putting one of my feet on the shoulder of the midwife and one on that of my husband for each contraction. The epidural had pretty much totally worn off by then and the contractions were intense and painful.
That's another one of my preconceived ideas that flew out the window - of course I had wanted my husband there with me, but I had presumed I would have him up the end with me, not down where the action was, so to speak. After all, there's intimacy, and then there's ewww-that's-gross! But the midwife hauled him down there to have a foot on his shoulder, and now I wouldn?t have had it any other way. I think we did about 20 min of pushing, and then it was obviously the change of shift for the midwives, as our young and friendly one (forgotten her name by now) was replaced by an older lady who seemed more brusque called Stephanie. At first I was disappointed; we had a system, we knew what we were doing, I liked the first midwife, I didn?t like the idea of messing with it.
The first thing the new midwife did was to give me an internal, whereupon she said that the baby's head was transverse (another possibility I hadn't known about - I knew about anterior vs. posterior position, but hadn't realized it could be like our bub's was -on the side.) She talked about how it would hence be a lot harder to push him out (obviously the dimensions are bigger when on the side), and that would be why we were not making any headway. She said what we could do was call in my ob who would assist (i.e. use forceps or whatever), and I asked whether that would mean more epidural and she said "definitely". I remember that sounding quite nice in a way because I kinda missed the epidural as the contractions were really strong and mean now. At this point I really didn't like the second midwife. (Unfairly, because of course she was better than the first one in that the first woman hadn't realized the baby was in that position.) It felt like the birth I thought I was having was in danger of slipping out of my hands, and it felt (illogically) like it was her fault!!! But anyway, I said I would like to try naturally pushing for 20 or so minutes longer to see what headway I could make on my own before calling in the ob.
However we DID start making progress, and I guess she could tell that right from the next few pushes, because no more was said about calling in the ob. I think my active-labour ended up lasting about 2 hours, but I didn't have any sense of time. I was on my own little off-world planet. I remember Stephanie saying at some point that I was "in the zone" or something to that effect, because I said something that didn't really make sense, or I was replying to what they had said 10min ago, or something like that. (I wish I knew now what it was that I was saying!)
Probably the largest misconception I had about labour was that I thought it was all about the pushing of the baby out of the body; as in, there's the hole, there's the baby, now try and get the baby out the hole. What I didn't understand was that the baby needed to be pushed down and under the pelvis, down and along the birth canal, before finally being pushed out. I see it much more as a journey now. The baby has quite some distance to travel.
Stephanie and my husband were AMAZING. I was on my own planet but the connection to this one was through their voices. I wasn't thinking about having a baby, I wasn?t thinking about anything at all I was just following following following their voices. They were like my own little cheer squad, they encouraged me and told me what to do and they praised me and praised me. I was half-sobbing after each contraction and they told me how I was doing such a good job and their voices calmed me down before the next one arrived. But the best thing that I got from them was this growing and building sense of excitement that I could hear in their tone. Of course they could see what was happening, but I was just going by what I could hear in those voices - I could tell I was making progress. I couldn't have done it without them. The amazement and excitement in my husband's voice was something I will never forget actually, no matter how fuzzy the other details get.
I can't remember if it was Stephanie or later the ob who was telling me that it was a 2-steps-forward, 1-step-back process; that the first push of each contraction was to get the baby back to where he had been last time, and then any further pushes were to work to progress him. This is all probably a bit out of order; I remember that the longest bit was to push him down and under the pelvis (difficult child facing sideways!), I remember that I was very LOUD - I wasn't saying words but I was yelling with each push it was all very primal! They would have heard me all the way down the corridor for sure. I remember the midwife a couple of times offered me the mirror so I could see, and I kept saying "I don't know", and "maybe later" because I wasn't sure about that for some reason. I also remember when they told me they could see his head and that it had lots of dark hair ? that completely spun me out (I wasn't expecting him to have hair? I don?t know, maybe it made it more real, I wasn't thinking about the baby, I wasn?t thinking of anything apart from getting through the next contraction, and hearing about the hair suddenly put my baby right there in the room if that makes sense.)
The excitement in my husband and Stephanie's voices was peaking as the head got closer and closer. The Ob came in towards the end and said something that implied I was silly for not having more epidural (I can?t remember what he said exactly, I think he had been listening to me scream from the corridor), and I was like "I never said I didn't want more epidural!" Because that decision had somehow been made without me (the top-up thing anyway), I def did not say "NO, don't give me anymore of that pain-relieving stuff" (although in retrospect I'm really glad it happened that way.) I had also thought (and this is part of that misconception I mentioned) that the part that the Ob was present for - the actual pushing out of the baby was going to take a really long time too (I remember thinking this towards the end after a couple of hours of active labour - I've still got to do the pushing OUT bit, I am going to be here forever!), but of course that part was really quick. The Ob told me that when he told me to I had to not push, and just breathe. We had a couple of big contractions, and the head was right there. The ob injected a local anaesthetic into my tightly-stretched perineum (I remember saying "ow, ow, ow", because it hurt.) That is another thing I had not prepared for - I had heard about the 'ring of fire' (and thought it sounded a bit scary!) but didn't realize there was the option for a local, or what the pros or cons of this were, it was not something I was aware of or had done any research on. (Of course he was only doing this so he could give me an episiotomy a contraction or so later - grrr.)
I did a huge amount of pushing with the next contraction, and then I could feel the baby right there, which felt really weird. I think I could have pushed him out myself then if anyone had told me too, without waiting for the contraction, but waiting with him right there was too hard or freaky, and my muscles shlooped him away back up again. I think the Ob was surprised. With the next contraction he got out his scissors and gave me an episiotomy (I am a bit conflicted about this, I don't really know if it was necessary or not; it didn't FEEL necessary, but then again I don't know what was going on down there, and his head was coming out transverse of course. It was the most minor of episiotomies apparently, and he did a ?beautiful job? the midwife told me later, and it healed well and didn't bother me physically really at all, but I am still not sure about it.) At the time a part of me thought 'oh no, not an episiotomy', but most of me was caught up and consumed by having this baby. The head must have come out with that contraction, and then either Stephanie or the Ob was saying to me "Look, you have to see this bit" and they sat me forward more and I saw my son slither out and be born. (It was almost like I wasn't expecting the labour to end, I had kind of forgotten what the result would be if that makes any sense and so that moment, strangely, caught me by surprise somehow.) He gave a lusty yell and I was murmuring "Oh my god, oh my god" or something like that, the kind of things people say when they are out beyond themselves and the moment is so large there is nothing else to say.
My baby boy, my little son, was in the world.
They gave me (was it syntocin?) to speed up the delivery of the placenta (which was an intervention I was ok with). I was actually quite curious and interested in the placenta, and I craned up to have a quick look at it, but at this point my baby was in my arms and deep dark eyes were staring into my own, so I didn?t really pay as much attention to the placenta as I would have under other circumstances.
We had the first breastfeed, then a bit after that the weighing and measuring. Dad got his first hold.
I felt great after the birth. As soon as the contractions were over I felt fantastic. I remember Stephanie asking if I would like a wheelchair when we (finally) got to go back to our room and I was like "no, why would I need a wheelchair?" At the time I didn?t realize either why we had to stay in the birthing suite for so long when I was keen to get back to our room and call people and tell them the news. (Of course they were keeping us under observation, but that didn't click till later.)
And so it began as it has continued since; in a blur of wonderment, sleep deprivation, and love, and love, and love, and love.
