My first pregnancy, I
planned for a medicated birth. In the situation I was in, labor pain was
the last thing I wanted to deal with. Not to mention, I was
terrified. There is so much fear and
horror surrounding birth. But then I
actually had Brightyn, and I was surprised nobody told me how amazing and
beautiful it was. So when I found out I was pregnant again, I knew this time I
would plan for an unmedicated birth. I
wanted to feel birth in its full glory. I read everything I could about
birth, I listened to birth stories, I practiced breathing, we practiced labor
massage and counter pressure, we took a Lamaze class.
Everyone said I was
crazy, but the more they told me I couldn't do it, the more I knew I
could. When I was about 34 weeks pregnant, I brought it up to my family
doctor (whom I was planning on to deliver my baby). He laughed, and said
I shouldn't close off the epidural as an option because some women don't handle
labor pain well. I was kind of annoyed, and embarrassed because I felt
like he thought that my desire to experience birth was stupid. Over the
next few weeks, with lots of talks between my husband and I, and encouragement
from family, I decided to switch providers to someone who would be supportive
of my birthing choices. At 36 weeks pregnant, I switched to the Valley OB
Midwives, and finally I felt prepared for the birth of my little boy.
I started having prodromal labor on February 7th, for the first time at least (about 36 weeks and 3 days). It was the Super Bowl and Bruce and I were going over to some friends’ house to watch the game. Bruce was freaking out because I was having uncomfortable contractions all morning, about 5 minutes apart and a minute long. I knew it was too soon for real labor, but I could feel them working my cervix. By afternoon, I was exhausted. They weren't painful, but they took a lot of energy. They eventually fizzled out, but this happened several times over the course of the next month, which is why when I went into real labor, I wasn’t sure.
I chose not to have my cervix checked until 39 weeks, which at that point was mostly just for curiosity. I knew it wouldn't affect when I actually went into labor. I was 4 cm and 60% effaced, so the prelabor was definitely doing something. I set my next appointment for a week out, in hopes I wouldn't make it....
But a little over a week later, at 40 weeks and 1 day, on March 4th, there I was in the office. I hadn't even had any prelabor the last few days, and I was ready to go. I had been spent all week trying to get my baby in the best positioning in hopes it would trigger labor. I was 5 cm dilated and 90% effaced, so I chose to have my membranes swept, which is where the midwife uses her finger to detach the wall of the amniotic sac from the cervix to help trigger labor. She did it, but said it was mostly detached anyways. The midwife said if I start having any painful contractions to go into the hospital, it probably wouldn't be a long labor. Bruce and I went to walk around Cabela's and then got Chubby’s for lunch and went home for a nap. Nothing happened. At all. No cramping, no contractions, no nothing. I had predicted weeks before that our baby would be born March 5th, and even that was seeming unlikely.
I slept comfortably and deeply until about 4 when I got up to go to the bathroom. Soon enough I started having very mild contractions, but didn't want to get my hopes up, so I just tried to sleep. They became pretty regular, so I timed them. They were 5-7 minutes apart and about a minute long. They started growing in intensity, but were still not terribly painful, no more so than previous prodromal labor I had. I could still walk and talk through contractions, so I knew it could be a while still. Around 6 am, I started losing a lot of mucous plug and decided to wake Bruce up. I sat next to the bed and gently tried to rouse him, he woke up and stormed off to the bathroom, came back to bed and crawled back in grumpily. I say "Uhm, honey, I think we should call the midwife..." He was wide awake immediately, and when I told him what was happening he was like "Yeah, we need to leave now." He took a quick shower and we packed up the car and by the time we were leaving the house at 6:30, I could no longer walk or talk through contractions, but felt totally fine in between. I would just breathe deeply and relax. We had a fifteen minute drive to the hospital, which was fairly uncomfortable during contractions and I was praying my water didn't break in the car. We parked and walked in- I insisted on walking in order to keep the baby moving down. I would have to stop and lean on Bruce during contractions, and then we would keep walking. The receptionist began to check us in, and while I thought I was fine to stop and answer questions there, Bruce asked them to get us to a room quickly.
She sent us up to labor and delivery, where I was admitted immediately. We requested a room with a bathtub, and Bruce got that going since I knew I would want to get in as soon as I could. The nurse then checked my dilation, I was at a 7. Then they hooked me up for 20 minutes of monitoring before I got in the tub. While I was getting monitored, I had a very strong contraction where I felt a small amount of fluid leak down my leg, so I said I thought my water broke, but there wasn't a whole lot of fluid so I wasn't sure. Finally, my 20 minutes was over, so I went over to the bathroom. About the time I walked in, I got very nauseous so I walked over to the toilet, bent slightly at my waist, and vomited in the direction of the bowl. I think half made it in.
I rinsed my mouth and climbed into the tub. This is when things started getting more intense and closer together, and I got into my "labor zone". I kneeled on the floor of the tub and rested my elbows on the bench and breathed through each contraction. I focused on continuing to breathe, even at the peak of contractions, relaxing and embracing the sensations of the waves. I trusted in my body, and let it do its work. Contractions are intense, but for me it was not unbearable as long as I opened myself to the waves instead of tensing up. I chanted to myself when they got hard, when my mind wanted to fight the pain, but I stayed in control, repeating over and over to myself "This is my birthright." I don’t know why that phrase popped into my head, I hadn’t planned on that being part of my mantra, but it stuck with me. For me it meant “I am a woman, my body is designed for this. I am here because thousands of women before me have done this. I can do this.”
I started having prodromal labor on February 7th, for the first time at least (about 36 weeks and 3 days). It was the Super Bowl and Bruce and I were going over to some friends’ house to watch the game. Bruce was freaking out because I was having uncomfortable contractions all morning, about 5 minutes apart and a minute long. I knew it was too soon for real labor, but I could feel them working my cervix. By afternoon, I was exhausted. They weren't painful, but they took a lot of energy. They eventually fizzled out, but this happened several times over the course of the next month, which is why when I went into real labor, I wasn’t sure.
I chose not to have my cervix checked until 39 weeks, which at that point was mostly just for curiosity. I knew it wouldn't affect when I actually went into labor. I was 4 cm and 60% effaced, so the prelabor was definitely doing something. I set my next appointment for a week out, in hopes I wouldn't make it....
But a little over a week later, at 40 weeks and 1 day, on March 4th, there I was in the office. I hadn't even had any prelabor the last few days, and I was ready to go. I had been spent all week trying to get my baby in the best positioning in hopes it would trigger labor. I was 5 cm dilated and 90% effaced, so I chose to have my membranes swept, which is where the midwife uses her finger to detach the wall of the amniotic sac from the cervix to help trigger labor. She did it, but said it was mostly detached anyways. The midwife said if I start having any painful contractions to go into the hospital, it probably wouldn't be a long labor. Bruce and I went to walk around Cabela's and then got Chubby’s for lunch and went home for a nap. Nothing happened. At all. No cramping, no contractions, no nothing. I had predicted weeks before that our baby would be born March 5th, and even that was seeming unlikely.
I slept comfortably and deeply until about 4 when I got up to go to the bathroom. Soon enough I started having very mild contractions, but didn't want to get my hopes up, so I just tried to sleep. They became pretty regular, so I timed them. They were 5-7 minutes apart and about a minute long. They started growing in intensity, but were still not terribly painful, no more so than previous prodromal labor I had. I could still walk and talk through contractions, so I knew it could be a while still. Around 6 am, I started losing a lot of mucous plug and decided to wake Bruce up. I sat next to the bed and gently tried to rouse him, he woke up and stormed off to the bathroom, came back to bed and crawled back in grumpily. I say "Uhm, honey, I think we should call the midwife..." He was wide awake immediately, and when I told him what was happening he was like "Yeah, we need to leave now." He took a quick shower and we packed up the car and by the time we were leaving the house at 6:30, I could no longer walk or talk through contractions, but felt totally fine in between. I would just breathe deeply and relax. We had a fifteen minute drive to the hospital, which was fairly uncomfortable during contractions and I was praying my water didn't break in the car. We parked and walked in- I insisted on walking in order to keep the baby moving down. I would have to stop and lean on Bruce during contractions, and then we would keep walking. The receptionist began to check us in, and while I thought I was fine to stop and answer questions there, Bruce asked them to get us to a room quickly.
She sent us up to labor and delivery, where I was admitted immediately. We requested a room with a bathtub, and Bruce got that going since I knew I would want to get in as soon as I could. The nurse then checked my dilation, I was at a 7. Then they hooked me up for 20 minutes of monitoring before I got in the tub. While I was getting monitored, I had a very strong contraction where I felt a small amount of fluid leak down my leg, so I said I thought my water broke, but there wasn't a whole lot of fluid so I wasn't sure. Finally, my 20 minutes was over, so I went over to the bathroom. About the time I walked in, I got very nauseous so I walked over to the toilet, bent slightly at my waist, and vomited in the direction of the bowl. I think half made it in.
I rinsed my mouth and climbed into the tub. This is when things started getting more intense and closer together, and I got into my "labor zone". I kneeled on the floor of the tub and rested my elbows on the bench and breathed through each contraction. I focused on continuing to breathe, even at the peak of contractions, relaxing and embracing the sensations of the waves. I trusted in my body, and let it do its work. Contractions are intense, but for me it was not unbearable as long as I opened myself to the waves instead of tensing up. I chanted to myself when they got hard, when my mind wanted to fight the pain, but I stayed in control, repeating over and over to myself "This is my birthright." I don’t know why that phrase popped into my head, I hadn’t planned on that being part of my mantra, but it stuck with me. For me it meant “I am a woman, my body is designed for this. I am here because thousands of women before me have done this. I can do this.”
The contractions got
closer together, with less than 30 seconds from the end of one to the start of
another. I knew I was in transition at full force, I knew this meant the
end was near. I started getting a
"pushy feeling" and tried to relax and just breathe the baby down for
a few contractions. My body wasn't having any of this and the urge to
push overtook and my whole body pushed along with the contraction. The
midwife then helped me get out of the tub, since this hospital didn't allow
water deliveries. I knelt on the bed, since that position felt really
good in the tub, but it was so much more intense and difficult without the
water to help hold up my body and warmth to ease my tired muscles. My
body was pushing again, and the contractions never really ended, just increased
and decreased in intensity. It was so strong, and overwhelming, and slightly
terrifying to be honest. I had never felt my body do anything like this
before. I yelled along with a contraction, unsure of how to handle everything
I was feeling all at the same time, it felt like I was losing focus. I
concentrated on not fighting my body, letting it do what it knew it needed to
do. My midwife suggested I lay on my side because I wasn't pushing effectively
in the position I was in. I switched positions and tried to breathe for a
contraction, but my body pushed whether I wanted to or not.
I vocalized (read: grunted/yelled) with every push. It wasn't necessarily out of pain or fear, but it was a natural reflex to the intensity and strength required of me in those moments. I realized I could feel my baby in the canal. I could feel him move down with every push, and then back up again when I released. This made it much easier to make my pushes more effective, and I started not releasing completely to try to hold him in place. It started working, and I felt the "ring of fire" as he began crowning. I was ready to be done, I was exhausted from pushing, it felt like it had been forever (though it had probably only been 15 minutes or so). I reached down, and I could feel his little head! I could feel just a couple of inches of soft slimy hair, and all I could think was “GET OUT.”
I pushed some more, I don't know how many times, but finally his head was born in a geyser of amniotic fluid as my water broke at the same time. Bruce had to dodge it, and there was water everywhere. That is when Ronan decided he didn't want to be born, and just hung out a minute. I pushed again. And again. And then the midwife realized something wasn't quite right and started giving orders. A nurse replaced Bruce where he was standing and they pushed my legs back as far as possible, another nurse began pushing on my stomach, and my midwife was trying to turn Ronan to get his shoulders unstuck from behind my pelvic bone. A little over a minute later, his body was born at 8:12 am.
And suddenly, there was no more pain. It was the weirdest thing, like all the craziness just turned off. But man was I exhausted. Four hours of labor, and I was DONE. I don't know how some women do it longer than that. Ronan was laid on my chest for a moment, but since there was potential trauma and shock from the shoulder dystocia, the nurses had to take him pretty quick and give him some oxygen. I relaxed for a minute, finally getting a chance to breathe deep breaths, when a crampy, slightly pushy feeling started up again. My body was trying to birth the placenta now. It came out easily in a few minutes, but it's such a weird sensation. Like a balloon full of jelly exiting my body. The midwife made sure it was intact, and then checked if I had tears. One small tear, and that was it. She did a small local injection of anesthesia, and started stitching me up.
I finally got my baby around the time she finished cleaning me up. I was so excited. I thought I might cry when I had Ronan, but I didn't until later. I was still on the hormone high from the delivery right then, but later, when things had settled down, I would cry because I didn't believe it was all real. I had my baby. MY BABY. That I got to cuddle and kiss and never let go. It was surreal. It still is. After nearly five years of arms aching to love on a little squish, I had mine.
I vocalized (read: grunted/yelled) with every push. It wasn't necessarily out of pain or fear, but it was a natural reflex to the intensity and strength required of me in those moments. I realized I could feel my baby in the canal. I could feel him move down with every push, and then back up again when I released. This made it much easier to make my pushes more effective, and I started not releasing completely to try to hold him in place. It started working, and I felt the "ring of fire" as he began crowning. I was ready to be done, I was exhausted from pushing, it felt like it had been forever (though it had probably only been 15 minutes or so). I reached down, and I could feel his little head! I could feel just a couple of inches of soft slimy hair, and all I could think was “GET OUT.”
I pushed some more, I don't know how many times, but finally his head was born in a geyser of amniotic fluid as my water broke at the same time. Bruce had to dodge it, and there was water everywhere. That is when Ronan decided he didn't want to be born, and just hung out a minute. I pushed again. And again. And then the midwife realized something wasn't quite right and started giving orders. A nurse replaced Bruce where he was standing and they pushed my legs back as far as possible, another nurse began pushing on my stomach, and my midwife was trying to turn Ronan to get his shoulders unstuck from behind my pelvic bone. A little over a minute later, his body was born at 8:12 am.
And suddenly, there was no more pain. It was the weirdest thing, like all the craziness just turned off. But man was I exhausted. Four hours of labor, and I was DONE. I don't know how some women do it longer than that. Ronan was laid on my chest for a moment, but since there was potential trauma and shock from the shoulder dystocia, the nurses had to take him pretty quick and give him some oxygen. I relaxed for a minute, finally getting a chance to breathe deep breaths, when a crampy, slightly pushy feeling started up again. My body was trying to birth the placenta now. It came out easily in a few minutes, but it's such a weird sensation. Like a balloon full of jelly exiting my body. The midwife made sure it was intact, and then checked if I had tears. One small tear, and that was it. She did a small local injection of anesthesia, and started stitching me up.
I finally got my baby around the time she finished cleaning me up. I was so excited. I thought I might cry when I had Ronan, but I didn't until later. I was still on the hormone high from the delivery right then, but later, when things had settled down, I would cry because I didn't believe it was all real. I had my baby. MY BABY. That I got to cuddle and kiss and never let go. It was surreal. It still is. After nearly five years of arms aching to love on a little squish, I had mine.
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