I’ve never been good at “making a long story short”, and the story of the birth of my son obviously will be no different. If you’re interested in the days leading up to Wyatt’s arrival, and the lengthy tale of my labor and delivery, then I advise you to stop for a bathroom break, grab a drink, and settle into a comfy chair. As a disclaimer, labor and birth, it ain’t pretty, so please don’t expect me to butter up the details and leave out the gore.
PRIOR TO LABOR Let’s start from the very beginning. As I entered my 39th week of pregnancy I was so uncomfortable, not sleeping at all, exhausted, completely unmotivated to do anything, and I hated eating anything and everything because it would give me unbearable heartburn. But overall the baby and I were completely healthy and I was terrified that the baby would want to stay in there and keep me pregnant forever. I was working from home which was wonderful, as I can’t imagine what it would be like if I had to actually get myself ready for work every day. The weather was rather nice that week, and I proclaimed that I was going to “walk my baby out!” Thus began mine and Tim’s nightly walks around the neighborhood. We walked 3 miles every night.
On Wednesday night, October 21st, I had the worst night sleep ever! Actually, I wouldn’t even call it sleep. I sent the following email to Tim at work on Thursday morning:
Last night was by far my absolute worst and most uncomfortable night yet. I don't know what was going on, but I had cramping in my stomach, cramping in lower back, massive heartburn, and pain in my upper back. It went on for like 3 or 4 hours. I tried sleeping sitting up. I tried sleeping on my right side and my left side. Nothing helped. ugh. I think I will take a nap today if I can. If I have to nap during the days and be up in the night that is fine by me at this point, as long as I am getting sleep.
Anyways, the cramping I was having in the night is gone this morning, so I don't think I'll be going into labor today. You never know though :)
See you tonight. To which he responded:
My car is parked close and I have my cell. Just give me the call when it is time. = ) We joked about how I was going into labor. All along I kept telling people that October 22nd seemed like a good day to have a baby and here we were. That day was just in my head. And yet, I thought it was really just a pipe dream because people in my family don’t have their babies early.
As the day progressed I began to feel a little saddened and discouraged. I don’t know why, because clearly I still had one more week until it was even my due date. I decided not to take a nap like I said I would, I could take a nap the next day. I think that I semi nested a bit. No I did not scrub the floors clean, that doesn’t sound like any fun when you’re big and pregnant. But I did put things away and felt the need to tidy up a little bit around the house.
That evening it was cold and rainy, plus Project Runway was on TV, so I decided that we were going to skip our evening 3 mile stroll. Tim was delighted that I was not going to drag him around town again in attempt to induce my labor. We watched Project Runway and then headed to bed around 10:30ish. As soon as I lay down I started getting pains in my lower back as I had Wednesday night. I told Tim about it and he again joked that they were labor pains. "They are not labor pains," I told him. He dozed off to sleep and I lay there frustrated that I was about to have yet another uncomfortable and sleepless night. I felt the baby start to hiccup and I put my hand on my belly and enjoyed the motion of the hiccups for awhile. After some time passed I felt the need to get up and go to the bathroom, which was pretty typical at this point in my pregnancy. Before getting up I turned and looked at the clock:
11:11.
I thought to myself, 11:11, make a wish… I wish I would go into labor.
A BIG SURPRISE
I stared at the clock until it turned 11:12. Once it hit 11:12 I rolled my big belly and myself out of bed. The very second I stood up I felt a “gush.” I knew I felt the urge to go to the bathroom, but I was CERTAIN I did not have to go that bad. Stunned, I quickly waddled myself to the bathroom. To which I found tons and tons of pink tinged fluid. I screamed for Tim and when he arrived out of his slumber I announced to him “I’m pretty sure my water just broke.” I don’t remember what all was said once we both came to the realization of what was happening, but it was something along the lines of “holy shit, we’re having a baby like really, really soon.”
I was alarmed by the pink fluid, no one told me that amniotic fluid would be pink and bloody, or if they did tell me, I must not have been listening. I called my mom over to confirm that this color fluid was OK. I also called my sister Ginette because she works in labor and delivery at a hospital, and has had kid or two, or six, herself. Besides, why shouldn’t examining my amniotic fluid be a family affair? Both my mom and Ginette agreed the fluid color was ok, and nothing to be worried about. They prompted me to call my midwife, who also told me that the pink fluid was caused by the loss of my mucous plug, which I kind of knew I lost because it was still lying on the bathroom floor. That’s right. I told you labor is not all pretty, and my mucous plug fell out onto the bathroom floor. My midwife also told me that I was (obviously) in labor, and that I should stay home until my contractions kick in to 2-3 minutes apart. She also told me I should rest as much as possible because I was having a baby Friday.
LABOR BEGINS My mom and sister went home, and I was given orders by all non-laboring parties to rest. Rest? How do I rest when I realize I am about to have a baby? How do I rest when every time I move even an inch fluid gushes out of me? How do I rest, when “ouch, there’s a stabbing effing pain in my back!?” I did the best I could. But I was anxious. Anxious about everything you could imagine. The impending drive to the hospital and the pouring rain added to my anxiety. The drive is a good 30 minutes without traffic. Add weather and the possibility of morning rush hour traffic into the mix, and who knows how long it will take. I think the anxiety added to the intensity of the contractions. I decided I should take a shower and blow dry my hair. Might as well be clean for the start of labor, because who knows when it will end.
Tim slept pretty well during this time and I tried not to bother him too much because I knew I would need his game face on for later in the day. I became increasingly frustrated as I searched around the house for a watch or a clock that had a second hand so I could time my contractions. How the hell could I not own a single clock with a second hand?! I finally found a website called Contractionmaster.com. I loaded up my laptop next to my bed and tried to rest. Every time a contraction started I would hit the button on my laptop and it would start timing, and then I’d hit the stop button when they stopped. The website automatically timed up my contractions for me. Brilliant. But for some reason I still wished I had a damn watch.
Around 4am I had my contractions timed at about 4-5 minutes apart and lasting at least a minute. I woke Tim and told him we had to go. I was way too anxious and I needed to get on the road and into a hospital. Our bag was mostly packed, and we threw a few last minute things together before leaving.
Tim called the midwife and told her we were headed in. Then I had him call my mom to see if she wanted to be there too. She said she would drive separate and meet us there. We left around 4:30am and arrived to Prentice at about 5am. The drive in wasn’t too bad, but it was still pouring rain and my anxiety level continued to increase during the drive.
TRIAGE We arrived to the hospital and walked into the waiting room at Triage. The triage receptionist asked me a few questions and then told me to take a seat. The waiting area was empty so the wait wasn’t too long before we were moved into a room in triage. In triage they monitored the baby’s heart rate and my contractions for quite awhile. A nurse also confirmed that my water was broken. My midwife Eileen arrived around 5:30am. Since my bag of water broke she did not want to do an internal exam because there is an increased risk of infection. At this point I have no idea how far I am dilated. At all of my prevous prenatal appointments I declined internals because I didn’t want to be discouraged when they told me “you’re not dilated at all honey.” So I really have no clue where I stand right now, but I think it must be a good 4 at least because my contractions hurt and my water had been broken for several hours now. Eileen asked me if anyone had estimated the size of the baby at my previous prenatal appointments, and I told her no. She said that she was usually pretty good at estimating and stated 7lbs 6oz. Ha! I told her my family has 9 – 10 lb babies, and that she is way off with that guess.
Around 6am a nurse came to bring me up to labor and delivery. She asked me if I was OK to walk. I thought that was strange. I said “Well OK, but every time I stand up and move I gush fluid everywhere!” (Which by the way was very surprising to me, I didn't know when your water breaks that water just keeps gushing and gushing.. how much fluid is in there?!). Thus I was introduced to the mesh underwear and super duper absorbent pads that we saw on our hospital tour a few weeks back. I wasn't expecting to see these until AFTER delivery.
LABOR & DELIVERY We were moved to Labor & Delivery room 872. The admit nurse was in the room, and a guy setting up a birthing tub was in the room as well. I had told my midwife while in triage that I wanted the option to labor in a birthing tub, but I had no idea if I would actually use it or not. You have to request the birthing tub in advance as there are only a few rooms that can accommodate the tub, and so in order to get the tub I needed to be admitted into one of those rooms.
My mom arrived around 6:30am. She thought I looked pretty relaxed and comfortable. At the time, I did not think that I was, but in hindsight, I guess I could say that part of labor was easy. I had no idea what was yet to come. The baby’s heart rate was running in the 140’s to 150’s, which was pretty standard to all of my appointments throughout pregnancy. I was still not checked for dilation due to the risk of infection. I was told I needed to walk around and get my labor to progress.
THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR WALKINGTim and I walked and walked and walked the halls. I was once again determined I would “walk my baby out.” I admit I did feel a little silly walking the halls of labor and delivery. There were really only 2 hallways that I could walk up and down, so I kept passing the same people and the same nurses station. There weren’t any other pregnant ladies walking around. No one to share my discomfort with. It wasn’t like a marathon where I could see someone struggling and give a nod of understanding. There was no comrade to be had. All I would see were a few expectant dads on their phones in the hallway, looking at me with raised eyebrows, probably questioning what on earth I was doing. Whenever I had a contraction I would have to stop and grab the railings along the wall. Thank goodness for the railings. But once again I felt like anyone and everyone was staring at me like I was some poor foolish sucker. All of my contractions were in my back, so Tim would try rubbing my back or putting pressure on it whenever a contraction came about.
Every 20 minutes I was told to return to my room so that the nurse could monitor my contractions and the baby’s heart rate during a contraction. By 9am I was feeling really tired, the contractions felt much more intense, and I was now really certain this labor was moving along as it should be.
At one point in time the anestheologist arrived in the room to give me my epidural. I told her I wasn't getting one. She said, "Oh, Ok... well can we just talk through the procedure in case you decide later you want one?" I thought for a minute and agreed to this, so she went through the procedure and then she went on her way. Much, much later in my labor I swear she came back again to "check on me," but that could be just a figment of my imagination. Who knows.
INTERNALS SUCK Around 9:45am I had my first internal done by the next midwife on duty, Sarah. Being my first internal, I was a little nervous it would be painful. Sure enough, it hurt like hell. And it lasted forever. Or so it seemed. I winced and yelled in pain. This was worse than any contraction. I never want an internal exam ever again in my life I thought to myself. After the exam my midwife declared I was dilated to a “3”, 90% effaced, and -1 station. Shit. Then she told me that she stretched the cervix, and that is why it was so uncomfortable. “Um, you did WHAT!?” Why the hell wouldn’t you warn me of something like that? I was unpleasantly pissed. She promised any internals after would not be as painful. I declared her a liar in my head.
Sarah told me that due to my water breaking the night before, I need to show some real progress and she hoped to see me dilate to about a 5 by noon. Otherwise they would need to start pitocin to get my labor to progress. A broken bag of water increases the risk of infection, so I need to deliver within about 24 hours of the water breaking. I was coming up on 12 hours, with apparently little progress.
MISSION: AVOID PITOCIN I was determined to get my labor to progress. I was terrified of pitocin. I did not want it. My understanding of pitocin is that it makes contractions much worse and much more intense. I wanted my body and labor to progress naturally. My midwife Sarah was not pleased with the amount of time I started to spend lying on my back in bed. But I was uncomfortable and no longer up to moving around. She helped get me in an upright position with the birthing ball on the bed. She had me lean forward facing the bed towards the pillow. She would put counter pressure on my back during a contraction, which sometimes helped, and sometimes did not. Tim also contributed to the counter pressure and sometimes I yelled at him. It’s ok, he’s ok, he was totally ready for me to be less than pleasant.
Things start to get hazy around this time. I know that I tried a few different labor positions. I sat on the birthing ball. I kneeled on the floor and leaned over on to the bed. Nothing made the contractions better. My mom and Tim would try and help me breathe through contractions, which I wasn't very good at. I also felt crampy like I had to go to the bathroom. Contractions while sitting on the toilet hurt. I was so upset because I wanted to sit on the toilet, but yet I didn’t want to sit on the toilet. What a horrible complex to have.
At noon Sarah checked me again. I better have progressed or else I might go crazy. “3.5.” Eff my life. How could that be? How could I feel like the pain was so much more intense and only be at a 3.5??? Sarah told me that they needed to start the pitocin and I'm pretty sure I cried. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to handle the contractions that pitocin would bring on. They wanted my contractions at 2.5 minutes apart, and apparently mine were bouncing around 3 to 5 minutes apart lasting 50 to 60 seconds.
PITOCIN SUCKSThe nurse started the pitocin around 1:25pm. I think I cried again. I made it very clear when they put in the IV that I was terrified of needles and they best be getting it in on the first try. My mom left the room for awhile after the pitocin began, and returned at 2:15pm. The nurse said they were increasing the pitocin from a 2 to a 4 because my contractions were still 4 to 5 minutes apart. Sometime during this portion of labor Tim ate a peanut butter granola bar. The poor boy was hungry. His poor wife was miserable and when I smelled the peanut butter it made me nauseous. I snapped at him to get away because he made me want to throw up. We laugh about this now, but at the time I really thought the smell of peanut butter would make me puke.
Throughout the labor process the nurse would occasionally ask me to rate my pain. I think in the very beginning I was giving it 4’s, 5’s, maybe one time a 7. I totally thought I had labor under control. Now that the pitocin was full throttle they asked me again about my pain and I gave them a “12.” Yes, it hurt that bad.
At one point in time Sarah had also suggested to me some sort of water injection she could give me in my back that would ease the back pain. I don’t know what it was but she said it would sting at first. I was tempted, but in my head I was thinking “oh no, I had no time to research this and have no idea what the side effects are going to be.” I decided to decline any sort of injection.
Hours rolled on and I continued to be in labor with all of the pain in my lower back. The contractions were really intense in my back. I had a very difficult time breathing through contractions. It took a lot of coaching to get me to breathe through a contraction. And even still I would cry and say I couldn’t do this. In my head I would often ask for the epidural, but I never could bring myself to say it out loud. Even with the pain I was in, I was still more terrified of having a needle injected into my spine.
SPLISH SPLASH, I’M TAKING A BATH Around 4:40pm Sarah told me that she thought I was far enough dilated to get into the birthing tub to labor if I wanted to. They prefer that you don’t get into the birthing tub before you are dilated to 5 because it could slow down labor. She did not do an internal beforehand, she was just guessing I was good to go based on the frequency and intensity of the contractions. I was in so much pain at this point and willing to try anything. I got into the birthing tub and the water did indeed help, slightly.
At about 5:15pm Sarah wanted to check and see how far dilated I was since it had been about 5 hours since I was last checked. I was still terrified of her internals, given our earlier experience. Plus the contractions were coming one on top of another and I just didn’t know how I could survive a contraction and an internal at the same time. Admist all of that, I was also frightened that she would report I was only a 6 or something and I feared that would discourage me from continuing on. Nonetheless, she did the internal and I was 8-9 centimeters, 100% effaced, and at 0 station! Whoa baby! Yes, literally, whoa a baby is coming soon. I was in transition, which according to my birthing class is the hardest part of labor. Once you get through transition things are supposed to get easier. Once you get through transition contractions supposedly slow down and give you some relief during pushing. So here I was in transition. Still in immense pain, but oh so close to meeting my baby.
At 5:50pm the next midwife on call arrived, Julie. I couldn't believe I was now into my third shift of midwifes. I have been in labor way too long if the next shift is now starting. But Julie was always my favorite midwife at pre-natal appointments, and I was actually thrilled to have her there for what was the most difficult part of my labor. She has a calmness and ability to coach that really meshed well with me. I was leaking a lot of fluid in the tub which was alarming, but Julie said it was completely normal and a very good sign that things were progressing.
TIME TO PUSH?Shortly before 7pm I was having immense pressure on my bowels. I was absolutely terrified and horrified that I was going to go in the tub. But getting out of the tub was not possible given my pain level either. I looked at Julie with horrible fear and embarrassment in my eyes and told her that I was afraid I was going to have a bowel movement. Without a smirk or laugh or anything Julie looked back at me and said “that’s ok.” And I was like “no, no, what happens if I go in the tub?” Once again she kept a straight face and said “we’ll scoop it out.” And that was that. For the record, I did not go in the tub (I don't think?), but I surely thought I might. Given the stage of labor I was in, apparently this was all completely normal.
Julie asked me if I wanted to deliver my baby in the tub. I hadn’t planned on giving birth this way, I just wanted to labor in the tub, but at that point in time I had no desire to move. The pain was too intense to move, so I told her “yes, I’ll have my baby right here.” She said that she wanted to check and see how far along I was. She did the internal and then said I was at 10 centimeters and that the baby’s head was “right there.” Then she told me it was time to push.
Time to push? No. I didn’t feel like I had to push. Apparently the pressure on my bowels was a sign of this, but I didn’t understand that’s what it meant (even though we did cover this topic in my birthing class, many things I learned went right out the window). But Julie said it was time to push, so OK, let’s get this show on the road. At this time I felt optimistic about pushing for two reasons. One, my understanding is that pushing gives a sense of relief to the contractions, and I could really use some relief right about then. And two, my mom and sisters pushed all of their babies out fairly quickly and I expected my body to work the same. Turns out I was terribly wrong on both accounts.
In addition to pushing for slightly over 2 hours, pushing brought me no relief whatsoever. I still had immense pain in my lower back from the contractions. But now I had to use up a great deal of energy to push as well. Things were not going well. I hated pushing more than anything else in my labor. I just wanted my baby out, but I wasn’t sure I was physically capable of this. At one point I noticed a clock on the wall that showed it was after 8pm, and realized I had been pushing for over an hour. The nurse had turned on the baby warmer (aka the Giraffe) and that was also in sight. I think they did that as a mental game to encourage me to push harder, like dangling a piece of candy in front of a child... "here's the baby warmer all ready for your baby, but you can't have a baby unless you push a baby out."
I could feel the head emerge with each push, and I could feel the head shrink back in at the end of each push. I started to feel fearful of pushing. I was afraid of the pain and potential tearing. I was terrified that I did not have the capacity to push the baby out. I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept well on Wednesday night, I didn’t sleep at all on Thursday night, and now here I was 21+ hours into labor on Friday night. Suddenly I felt terrified that they were going to send me for a C-Section if I didn’t get the baby out soon. I had been pushing a long time and I knew my body was showing signs of exhaustion. Everyone around me remained calm and optimistic. Julie told me she thought I would deliver my baby before 9pm. I looked at the clock and saw that was less than a ½ hour away. “I hope you’re right” I told her. But I really didn’t believe her.
However, I knew that I needed to start pushing past my fears and push harder and longer. I still had the incredible pain in my back through each and every push. Tim remained by my side and you could see the anticipation in his face. I could feel the immense pressure of the baby’s head and I felt the ring of fire and I wanted that pain to go away so I pushed again. At one point in time someone instructed me to tuck my chin down into my chest when I pushed, and once I did that I realized it did wonders for me. After 2 hours of pushing I finally felt like the head was moving further out. The moment the head was pushed out was the moment I had relief. I gave one final push and the baby slid out and that was the one and only push that that gave me relief from the contractions in my back (Julie later told me that the baby was facing sunny side up throughout all of pushing which is why I never had relief from the back pain, and apparently decided to turn at the bitter end).
The baby was placed on me and we looked at each other in awe. I still had no idea if we had a boy or girl. Tim finally said “It’s a BOY” and told everyone in the room that his name is Wyatt. I didn’t shed tears like I thought I might have. Instead I felt a huge sense of calmness and relief come over me. It was over. Pregnancy. Labor. Delivery. After a very long journey, my baby was here in my arms. He was worth it all.
It was not too long after that things became a little chaotic. Julie said the placenta was coming quickly and they did not want me to deliver it in the tub. The umbilical cord was cut and Wyatt was taken over to the Giraffe to be cleaned and warmed up. They helped me out of the tub and onto a bed, where I quickly and easily delivered the placenta and was stitched up.
It was not long before Wyatt was brought back over to me. I was happy that the nurses followed my birth plan wishes. I had told them in the beginning that I did not want my baby to be cleaned up and then swaddled like a present and delivered to me. I wanted to be able to hold him close to me and touch his hands and feet. I wanted to look at him and him at me. I had them delay putting the eye ointment on his eyes. Wyatt scored an 8 and 9 on his Apgars. He weighed 7lbs and 7oz and was 21in long. I was shocked when I heard his weight. What happened to my 10 pound baby that everyone insisted I was having? And surprisingly, he was just 1 oz more than what the first midwife of the day guessed his weight to be. He was born at 8:59pm. Ironically just 1 minute before the 9pm estimate that my midwife Julie guessed. Those midwifes really know there stuff I guess. The nurse that was on duty for the delivery later thanked me and told me I did a great job. Thanked me? I did a great job? I felt like I did a terrible job and labored and pushed forever. "No, you did great and it's not that often we get to take part in a delivery like this," she said.
I wasn't looking for a medal. I went into labor with an open mind, but I really wanted to try and do this without the pain medication. I am really just terrified of needles and one in my spine scared me like no other. Plus, I've never run a marathon with my legs numb, so it didn't make sense to me to have my bottom half numb in labor. For the record though, labor is nothing like a marathon. They are 2 very completely different types of pain and mental focus, with 2 very different end rewards. You can't even compare.
RECOVERY I remained in the delivery room for an hour or two, where Tim put on Wyatt's first diaper and I drank Orange Juice and ate some of a sandwich and fruit. I was exhausted, but felt good. Tim made some calls to share the news with family. Then I was placed in a wheelchair with Wyatt in my arms, and rolled up to the Recovery floor. My dad and sister Ginette were eagerly awaiting visiting the newest member of our family. They stopped in briefly and then went on their way so we could get some much needed rest. Tim had a long day, and so did Wyatt and I.
THE BIRTH OF A MOTHERDear Wyatt,
The clock struck 8:59pm on October 23rd, 2009 and you were born into the world. Red hair. Pouty lips. Eyebrows furrowed. Very long legs, fingers, and toes. My son. I could no longer remember what my life was like before you. You were placed on my chest and in that moment a mother was born.
I am your mother who loves you like no other person in the world ever will.
Love,
Mommy
