09/13/14 - Excerpt from my journal
"I am so over being pregnant. All of my preparation about my body knowing what to do, did not prepare me for going over my due date. I cry almost every day. As of today, I have officially been pregnant longer than ever before."
I was overrrrr it. I'd had start and stop labor for weeks, and in the last week it had calmed down completely. I spend a living telling women to trust their bodies, avoid induction, and reminding people that the average gestation RANGES up to 42 weeks. But there I was on 40 weeks exactly and had resigned to being pregnant for the rest of my life. I wrote, "This is just my new way of existence. I'll be pregnant forever, I'm sure of it."
Before I start my birth story, it's important to touch on Milo's for context. You can read it here, but here is the summary: it hurt much more than I expected, I was not prepared mentally for labor, I felt like I sucked at it and it was traumatizing.
I knew this was my last birth and I really wanted it to be an experience. I carefully chose my OB, not for their willingness to accept my vba2c birth but for their philosophy on birth. I see a lot from my vantage point of chapter leader of ICAN, and I knew the two providers I wanted to try. I spent 35 weeks with the first OB, but at the last minute knew that they weren't right. At 36 weeks I switched to Dr. Gary Newman and was so impressed that I told him I wanted him to be my birth husband, which I defined as a marriage where all we do is talk about birth stuff. I loved him. Loved the hospital and was really excited about the birth.
Just like before, I knew I didn't need technical help birthing a baby. I just needed the right people around me, and an OB to catch the baby. I spent the lion's share of the pregnancy preparing my mind. Neutralizing the fear I had of labor, and trying to absorb the advice and knowledge I give to others about trusting your body and trusting the process. I went and told my birth story in a special birth story sharing session and through talking it out, realized that my greatest fear was that was that I wasn't "normal" and wasn't "strong". I felt like I was feeling pain so much stronger than everyone else, and felt like a wuss. In trying to describe it to my husband I said, "Imagine running a marathon. You finish, but the whole time you bitched and whined and thought you were dying. It kind of takes the wind out of your sails of success." That's how I felt about Milo's birth. I could hardly be proud of myself. I felt like I pushed out a baby, despite myself.
Towards the end of pregnancy I took a "Birthing Again" class with the amazing, Alejandrina Vostrej. It was four weeks of diving deep into your thoughts and feelings of birth. We talked about women in the wild that go to their safe place to have a baby, and she'd ask "What does your safe place look like?" We talked about those women shutting down the labor process biologically if they saw a tiger in the wild, "What is your tiger?" she'd ask. We practiced pain coping techniques, which helped me find and practice how to mentally sustain the pain when my mind was no longer willing. I read the Birthing Within book and read all kinds of wonderful stories of calm, strong women having babies. I read all kinds of affirmations that reminded me that I was made to do this. Mostly I convinced myself to remember that I can't let myself worry about what's happening next, I'd have to remind myself:
You're already doing it.
You move mountains a stone at a time.
You can let go because God has this.
I thought a lot about animals. In the book it talked about how animals that give birth in the wild aren't thinking about how far apart their contractions are, or what is going to happen next or if it will happen "in time". They just breathe, keep their feet on the ground and take it moment by moment listening to their body. I just had to be an animal giving birth.
Nothing special happened the day before I gave birth. I went to church, laughed about being pregnant longer than ever and had really tried to stop obsessing over being pregnant and just live. Just go about your daily life, and forget about the pregnancy was my motto.
09/15/2014
2:30AM:
I woke up to a strongish contraction. Not painful but intense enough to wake me. Less tightening feeling, more a lower cramping pain around my round ligaments. I didn't automatically know I was in labor, but I knew that the contraction was stronger than I'd had before. It woke me up enough that I started to read in bed and tried to fall back asleep.
15 minutes later I had another contraction. I noted the time on my phone and kept reading. 15 minutes later I had another one. The next one came around 8 minutes later. Ultimately, I ended up reading in bed watching contractions that grew from 15 minutes to 4 minutes apart from 2:30am to 4:00am. They were not painful at all, but intense enough to focus my breathing. I wasn't the least bit afraid. I woke Cameron up around 4am, told him I was having contractions and that I was going to take a shower to see if they would go away.
Minutes into my shower they were coming every 2 minutes. They didn't hurt at all, truly. Just a tightening. I cried into my hands with relief in the shower. I knew that God had made me wait so that I would feel gratitude instead of fear when my labor started. He had the perfect plan.
After my shower, it was understood I was in labor but we believed it was still super early. I'd had no bloody show, and I'd never really lost my mucous plug. I figured I was having early labor pains with no cervical change yet. We let Milo sleep, texted Jane that Milo would be coming over soon and watched Dane Cook (old, funny Dane Cook, not new, angsty hostile Dane Cook) while I bounced on my ball. We laughed, and I continued to breathe through contractions that didn't hurt at all - they were just a feeling of tightness and intensity.
I called my doula around 6am, I obviously sounded fine because I wasn't in pain. We both thought it was weird that I hadn't had any bloody show. She was worried I would go to the hospital too early, but I was worried about going too late since it was almost 45 minutes away. I wanted to avoid painful labor in the car. We had been debating going over the 2 hours, but around 6am I had a pretty strong contraction that made me hold on to the counter. I had a fear pass through as fleeting as a butterfly's flap of wind, I told myself immediately not to be afraid. That I was doing it, and to just worry about one contraction at a time. It was the last time I felt fear. We left to drop Milo off at Jane's.
At Jane's I stayed in the car because the doctor called. I told him the scoop: Contractions since 2:30am, around 3-4 minutes apart, very little discomfort and no bloody show. He recommended I come in based on the pattern, and that's the only encouragement we needed to leave.
6:15AM
Left for the hospital. It was a 45 minute ride in. I made a very normal sounding call to my Mom to let her know the scoop. I got off saying, "Gotta run, a contraction is coming. I'll call you later." The contractions were steady, and they were intense but not painful. I had my headphones to listen to Sara Barellies and I would pop in my music when they would start, close my eyes and focus on relaxing every part of my body. In between contractions, Cameron and I would laugh and talk and talk about the pretty drive.
7:00AM
Arrived at hospital. My contractions were intense, but I wasn't suffering. Cameron had to push hard on my lower back during the contraction and then I was fine afterward. I was having a weird emotional reflex after each contraction. My eyes would well up and I'd get a little chest sob, and I'd laugh about it because I didn't feel emotional. I'd apologize to whatever medical staff I was talking to, "Sorry, I'm not really crying..my body is just doing this weirdly after each contraction." We'd carry on the conversation. I was answering all of my own questions, Cam would take over during contractions. At some point during a contraction the nurse asked what the pain plan was, Cam said, "Un-medicated." In my mind it had put the nail in the coffin that there was no chickening out now, but I felt a pride. I felt the pride in his voice as he said it.
I wanted to stand the whole time because the sensations were more manageable that way, but Cameron had to push harder and harder and I couldn't get through a contraction without him pushing on my back.
7:45AM
We are finishing the triage process and she says it's time to check me. We wait until after a contraction and I lay down for an agonizing moment while she checks and proclaims me...WAIT FOR IT...
A 7!!!!
Lord Jesus knows what a relief that was for me. I cried in relief. I had been so afraid that I would be a 2. They grabbed a gown and we headed for a room. I walked myself and joked that I felt like a dog on a leash with all of the tummy monitors I had being dragged by the nurse with equipment.
When I got in the room, literally after walking in, I got another contraction and this one was pretty intense. Cam was putting the bags down across the room and wasn't there to put counter pressure on my back. I spat out a try-to-be sentence using only the important words:
I can't.......fuck bags..........HANDS Cam!
The nurse had to put a heplock on me and told me I should sit on the ball while she did it so Cam could apply counter pressure easier. The ball contractions were super intense and I was getting less than a minute between them. For a moment or two I thought that this was going to be hard if it went on long enough, but I was so busy focusing on staying in the moment that I didn't have time to continue down that path and it quickly passed.
She wanted to check me and somehow checked me on my hands and knees after I crawled sideways into the bed. She said, "She's complete! Don't push! I have to call your doctor!"
Contractions were back to back at this point. My body had taken over and with every contraction I pushed and screamed. I didn't recognize my own voice, and had never heard a scream like that come from me. It wasn't a desperate scream, I wasn't in pain. It was just helping me pull energy to use for pushing. Pushing felt good, like a relief from the pressure of the contractions and something purposeful to do with the energy.
They kept telling me to get on my back between contractions but there was no break and it felt unnatural to get on my back. Nothing in my body was telling me to move in that way to get this baby out. I didn't cognitively think that, but I resisted moving because I felt like I was in my best position.
I could feel her moving down. I tried to not push unless I needed. It was really a worthless sentiment because I wasn't deciding to push anyway and the sensation to push was nearly consistent with my back to back contractions.
Cam said at this point he had a major adrenaline rush because he didn't think there would be an OB in time to catch. He described an earthy smell to the room, intrestingly enough. They were paging the OB to come stat and the OB nor my doula was there. When the nurse ran out, he thought for a moment he might have to catch her.
Through this time I was never afraid. I was frustrated they were telling me to get on my back, but I wasn't afraid of what was happening, what I felt or what I was about the feel. I was in labor land.
Hazel was crowning/coming out. My doula still wasn't there. My doctor was "5 minutes away". They had called over the intercom for any available OB to come to my room stat. The hospital OB and my sweet doula got there at the same time, as Hazelanne's head was coming out.
The OB immediately wanted me to get on my back but I just kept saying no and kept pushing involuntarily. My doula's presence felt like she was curled around my head cuddling me. She wasn't but that's what her presence did for me. I grasped her hand and held it to my face. She whispered sweet positive things in my ear. She told me I didn't have to get on my back. She told me how strong I was. I was so comforted.
8:08AM:
The resident OB ended up catching Hazel while I pushed her out on my hands and knees. The nurses told me after the fact that she is a very old-school doctor and said before leaving that she'd never caught a baby that way. It was very awkward getting her into my arms. Right as she came out, the shakes came on from all the adrenaline. I was shaking uncontrollably and in a lifted position on my knees and still wearing my dress. They were trying to push her under the dress into my arms and I needed help. We managed to get her into my arms and on my back. I was truly in shock but felt such intense joy that I thought I was shaking from happiness.
Cameron had to fight off the old-school OB from clamping the cord. She kept trying and he kept holding her back. I'm so thankful for that because I was not even thinking about that. That cord pulsed until it was completely finished; I'm so grateful. I even got to see the cord connected to us before it was cut. The doctor arrived while it was finishing up pulsing. Cam cut the cord.
When it came time to push out the placenta, I was resistant. The after-birth time was truly the worst part. I was sore and really sensitive and people were poking and prying me. When he wanted me to push for the placenta, I told him I didn't want to push anymore but he convinced me to push just once more.
I declined the post-birth pitocin and they just watched my bleeding. I successfully avoided any medication and synthetic hormones. It was amazing. My doctor gave me a couple stitches where I tore a small bit. It was all over! I felt so amazing. It was such a high.
I spent weeks after the birth just riding the birth high. Cameron and I felt like we had gone through the most amazing experience, and just couldn't stop talking about it. Remember that time you pushed out a baby, un-medicated like a bad ass?, Cam would say to me. Remember that time you had to stop the nazi OB from cutting my cord like a birth ninja?, I would tell him. It was so awesome, truly. I told absolutely everyone that would pass into my presence. I had an un-medicated birth and went from 7 to birth in 23 minutes!
There aren't words for how grateful I feel to have had exactly the birth experience I wanted. Down to every detail. I felt strong, and present. Cam was with me 1000%. God saturated us with peace and gave us everything we needed, exactly when we needed it.
Mostly, I am so excited to tell my daughters about this as they grow up so that hopefully they can go on to have perfectly normal and strong birth experiences. Even if they don't want their bossy mama in the room.
I am so grateful to ICAN for educating me that vaginal birth is possible after two cesareans. Alejandrina Vostrej for helping me prepare my mind, and my partnership with Cameron going into this birth. I'm grateful to my best friends for listening to me bitch about pregnancy at the end. I'm supremely grateful for Cameron for being my calm pillar of strength through all hard times. I wouldn't want to stand next to anyone else in life. And I'm grateful mostly to God for having the supreme wisdom to give me exactly what I needed over my 4 births so that I could cross the finish line with this amazing, life-completing birth. God is good.
