My Birth Story

It’s taken me three weeks to write this.  I think it has something to do with the sleepless nights, the hours spent holding a fussy baby, and the limited amount of time I have to do the basics (such as shower or use the bathroom).  But right this minute I have a little one snuggled against me in his baby carrier (our first day trying it – let’s see how he likes it) and I have the use of both my hands so here goes.

My due date was officially Monday, February 8th, 2010.  I was excited that it was drawing near, but knowing that only about 15% of women actually deliver on their due date, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  In fact, I’ve heard that for first-time moms, labor can come as long as two weeks after the expected due date.  So that’s why I was almost glad that my doctor suggested that we induce a few days early since he was worried that I had a mild case of pre-eclampsia.  Well, that and the fact that I was officially HUGE and ready to not be pregnant any more.

(This picture, while not the most flattering, was taken the day before delivery and shows just how big I had gotten.)

Thinking that the doctor knows best, we headed to the hospital on Friday afternoon, the 5th, ready to get the show on the road.  Now let me stop here to say that there was a big concern at the back of our minds during this whole process – our area had been placed under a severe winter storm warning and the forecast called for 24 inches of snow over the weekend.  We were so concerned about the weather that we had my mother, who was to fly in Saturday morning, come Thursday night just in case (it was a good thing too, as all weekend flights ended up being cancelled).

The snow was already coming down but we had made our way to the hospital — my mom, my sister, my husband and I.  The problem was that there was no labor room available for us.  So we were put in triage room and and tests were run that determined that I didn’t have pre-eclampsia after all.  That was the good news.  The bad news was that if I wanted to be induced, I was at the bottom of the list and would have to wait quite a while.

It was a dilemma, I tell you.  One part of me wanted to stay and get things going and an even greater part of me was terrified of going home and getting snowed in during labor.  But on the other hand, sitting around the hospital for hours with the hopes that maybe they’d be able to get to me didn’t sound appealing either.  So, even though I was already 3 cm dilated and 75% effaced, we decided to head back home.

It’s a good thing we left when we did because the roads were already getting bad and by Saturday morning, they were impassible.  (The picture below is our car in the driveway.  With snow like that, we weren’t going anywhere.)

With all this snow, we needed a backup plan.  My mother called the police department and asked what the procedure would be if I were to go into labor during the storm.  They assured her that the fire truck and ambulance would be able to get to me and take me to the hospital without any problems.  (Now that would have been a story!)

But, on Saturday night, a miracle happened.  A snow plow came through.

I say it was a miracle because we live at the end of a cul-de-sac and whenever it snows we are the last ones to have our roads plowed.  But there it was – we could see asphalt and everything!  (The picture below shows the clear sky and the plowed road that greeted us Sunday morning.)

That is why at 4:45 on Monday morning when I felt my first contraction, I didn’t panic (not too much at least) and I turned to my husband and said “this is it.”  It wasn’t too painful at first, more like having menstrual cramps.  I had also begun bleeding, which had never happened before and when I called the doctor, she told me to head on in to the hospital.

I was pretty calm as I woke everyone up, took a shower, and grabbed my stuff.  Unfortunately, by the time we left the house two hours later, I wasn’t feeling so calm.  In fact, I had begun to worry that the baby was going to come at any moment.  The contractions seemed to have increased and were getting more painful and coming more frequently.  Plus, I was still nervous about the condition of the roads.

Thankfully, our trip only took fifteen minutes and when we arrived at the hospital we were taken to a room right away.  It was a nice large room too, as far as labor rooms go.  (It could have used an update in the decor department, but at that point, I wasn’t really picky.)

It had the necessary equipment and a place for the baby which is what really mattered.

I got settled in and was checked by a nurse who proclaimed that she “thought” I was eight centimeters dilated.  Eight centimeters – are you serious?  I them told them in no uncertain terms I would be requiring an epideral immediately if not sooner.

By 9:00 my epidural was in (very painless I’m happy to say), by 9:15 the doctor had come by and told me that I was actually only four centimeters dilated, and by 9:30, I was relaxing in bed and getting ready for a long day.

Once I had the medicine in me, I was able to enjoy everything.  We relaxed for a while and basically just waited.  The time seemed to go fairly quickly – my mom, my sister and my husband were all in attendance and we spent the time playing cards, reading books, and listening to music.

In fact, the whole experience was turning out to be quite pleasant as far as labor goes.  I believe that this was because I decided to go the medicated route.  I know not everyone agrees with using an epidural, but it worked for me.  I had thought about going natural, I really did.  But I found that every time I thought about the upcoming birth experience, I was terrified.  It wasn’t until I accepted that I was a wimp and I made the decision to go with an epidural that I stopped worrying about it.  And it is a decision that I don’t regret.

Now I will say that because I was so relaxed, my contractions started slowing down even after they broke my water.  So they started a Pitocin drip in order to speed things up and then we just hung out while waiting for the Pitocin to work its magic.  The time went surprisingly quickly and suddenly it was 1:00 and I was 10 centimeters and it was time to push.

Hallelujah!

Of course, I should have known that the pushing wouldn’t be that easy or that quick.  While it didn’t hurt, it was definitely hard work.  I remember hearing everyone count and cheer me on as I pushed until I felt like I would pass out.  In fact, they had me on oxygen in between sets because I was getting so winded.

After a half hour of active pushing, they decided to let the baby descend some more on his own and we would try again in a while.  Awhile turned out to be an hour and a half.  Then at 3:00 the doctor and his team came back into the room and asked, “are you ready to have this baby?”

Was I ready?  That was a good question.  I was a bit scared of actually having the baby come out for so many reasons.  I didn’t know what to expect as far as the pain went.  My epidural had been turned off so that I could feel when to push and I was concerned about not being able to handle it.  At the same time, I was ready to be done and to move onto the next stage of this adventure.  So I answered, “yes, I’m definitely ready.”

The rest of the team, which included some people from NICU, had also come into the room.  Because I had meconium in my amniotic fluid (in other words, the baby had pooped while still inside) and they were concerned about it getting into his lungs.  While not an uncommon occurrence, I was told that I wouldn’t be able to hold the baby until they made sure he was okay first.  I was fine with that – whatever they needed to do to make sure he was healthy.

I started pushing again.  The CPA was by my head holding my leg and encouraging me on.  The nurse had my other leg and was telling me what to do.  My mother was videotaping the whole thing (yes, you read that correctly) and my sister was taking pictures.  Another side note here – I’m so glad that I now have video and pictures of the event because at the time, I really didn’t know what was going on and wouldn’t have wanted to see it if I could.  But it was absolutely amazing to go back and watch the whole birth process.

Where was I?  Oh yes, pushing.  I pushed for a while until the doctor told me that the baby was having a hard time coming out because he was anterior-facing (looking up) when he should have been posterior, and because he was a big boy (we had no idea just how big at the time).  So they brought out the vacuum.  I didn’t know what they were doing, I could only hear the suction noise that the vacuum made.

A minute later I knew the end was near because everyone started yelling “here he comes” and next thing I knew, this wriggling little baby was being held up in front of me.  It happened so quickly that it didn’t seem real at first.

But it most definitely was real.  It’s hard to describe how I felt at that moment.  I remember being surprised by my reaction and by how emotional it was.  To see this person who had been inside of my body for over nine months, to hear him crying and see him moving, was something I will never forget.  The CPA and I couldn’t do anything but cry.  Actually, my mom and my sister cried too.  It was hard not to when we’d just witnessed a miracle.

I watched as our little guy was taken over to the incubator and was cleaned off,

tested,

and weighed (yep – a whopping 10 pounds, 1 oz).

Then he was ready to meet his momma.

The CPA brought him over to me so I could hold him for the first time.

It was finally sinking in that the hard part was over.

It was in that moment that I realized that the nine plus months of being pregnant with all of its aches and pains, the 11 hours of labor, and the upcoming weeks of recovery were all worth it.

And now that he was here, I was content.  But I still had to get cleaned up before we could move out of the labor room.  Because the baby was so big, I had received an episiotomy and the doctor was training his resident so the stitching process took about an hour.

But after that, I was able to get up and walk to the bathroom, albeit somewhat slowly.  And five minutes later, we were settled into maternity ward room 301 where we would spend the next three days.  More on that later…

So there you have it, my birthing story.  I’m sure I left out some details somewhere, but the bottom line is that it was a remarkable experience, one that I wouldn’t trade for anything.  It gave us our beautiful son, Henry, and it really wasn’t even that painful, which was an added bonus.

Now I just have one question: when can I do it again?

Just kidding (sort-of).