Birth of my son - Jan 22nd 2010.
My labor was a positive experience until the last eight or so hours.
Marvelous... I ate three meals, I shared Ben & Jerry's ice cream with my husband, I labored and went into myself with the sounds of the Woody Allen film "Broadway Danny Rose" playing in the background. I had lavender baths a couple times in early labor. Simply glorious. I laughed and joked with Ned (my husband) and my mother in between contractions. I have to say - it was just wonderful!
When Otis was having regular desats and my labor suddenly stopped doing much; yet - the contractions continued hitting hard and harder and nothing I did was making a difference when I thought it must have been, because of how intense it became and practically them riding on top of each other. I tried my best; I was active and mobile, using the birth ball, standing and moving about (had been awake since 7am on Wednesday morning, and by the turn of the positive to upsetting, I had been awake for a solid 40 hours.)
The overall "defeated" mission of a natural birth that slipped through my hands beyond my control took over in the last eight hours and with the sheer exhaustion I was experiencing, I just had to do what I had to do to make me reach a state of calm to get my baby safely delivered, because I began to really lose it... mainly, emotionally... because I lost everything that was important to me and I was damned if I would lose Otis, too.
Suddenly, every sort of intervention I was adamant to never have, I had... to give myself a period of rest because I was reaching delirium and knew I still had to get him out; and as I had no other choice, as I sobbed for something I felt like I was "losing" (a natural birth), they transferred me out of the birthing centre to the Labor and Delivery unit in the hospital. I was emotionally vacant as they wheeled me into my absolute worst nightmare. I had already said, "It's over. I'm tired. I need an epidural."
This disgusted me, as I was fine in my labor... but when the doom and gloom started and they told me I wasn't progressing and Otis was not happy any more, the lack of sleep hit me hard suddenly.
They mentioned possibly breaking my waters to bring on the contractions harder, and then perhaps pitocin. I thought, how would I cope with how little rest I have had after all the hours I had spent laboring, anticipating to get into the birthing tub, to suddenly be expected when I thought I was finally reaching the end that I was nowhere near the end? I cried, I went limp. Upon arrival to Labor and Delivery, it started... constant monitoring, membranes artificially ruptured, midwives feeling very concerned about how Otis was coping with the strength of my contractions, yet at the same time my contractions weren't getting those last 3 cm out of the way. They first tried to hook me up to fluids because I was very dehydrated, and therefore so was Otis. That helped for a while. Otis began to cope a little better... but it was short-lived. Then there was the dreaded addition of pitocin to make my contractions harder to get me open quicker so Otis could be born faster. Eventually, I was fully dilated. And my NEW midwife said she expected he'd be here within a couple hours. I was ready. I had a period of relaxing... and luckily, I was still feeling the pain (and soon the huge pressure) of the contractions. With the midwives ready to get him delivered, I began to push. I was doing excellent. He was descending fast. His head was in view (and boy, could I feel that.) But suddenly, midwives looked to the monitors... brought in a registrar. She had me push... and, well, Otis was still posterior... and how his head was coming down and out was getting him stuck. Guess what? My right leg was numb, I was stuck to machines... standing up wouldn't be allowed to be an option but had this not moved in that direction and I could have stood, I'm sure it wouldn't have been a problem.
His heart rate dived FAST all of a sudden... and they quickly said... they needed to prep me to attempt to rotate him with forceps and deliver him that way, and if that failed, a c-section. I just nodded my head. It had been about 49 hours of being awake, he wasn't coping... there was little options at that point. I was wishing I had tried harder in earlier labor by that point. When you have early labor signs, ladies, and it's your first baby -- TAKE A NAP! I swear, if I had allowed myself to rest before contractions became regular instead of staying away out of excitement, I would have been in there and more ready at the beginning then I was. I fudged it up myself. I now know for next time, however.
Well, they moved swiftly. I couldn't even keep track anymore. They said only one person could accompany me. I looked at both my mom and Ned, but I said Ned because it was his child and I didn't want to deny him the experience of seeing his first child. And that was that, they whisked me quickly laying on a table to the theatre with Ned rushing behind. They told him fast that they'd get him changed and they got me in there. There were like 10+ people in there ready to go, getting ready to numb me from the ribcage downwards in case they had to do a rushed emergency c-section. Ned showed up eventually and sat by my side. I was such an emotional wreck by this time. They asked me if I was still feeling the pressure, which I was... because his head was still sitting between my legs and I just didn't feel them numbing that pressure away. I guess they just took it down. I had a gas mask on and began screaming into it with each intense pressure (though Ned insists I WASN'T hardly making any sounds, but in my head I certainly was!) which I couldn't push through. It was not ideal. When she got my legs up she did remark, "Well, she had done some good pushing because his head is right there. This is a good sign this will work."
She proceeded to insert the forceps, which was horrific, the pressure unbearable, and I screamed. Not any sort of scream I had ever heard myself make before. It was like I lost someone. It was bizarre, but I couldn't control it. They rotated him with ease, and commented on the ease of his rotation and saying this was looking like it would be successful. And they requested I attempt to push with the next wave while they pulled so we could get him out as quick as possible (his heart wasn't doing so good at all anymore.) I pushed insanely, because I did not want a c-section on top of everything else that had happened to my planned natural birth. I knew with forceps, my next birth experience was likely to be much different since I wouldn't have been operated on and would still have a chance for a normal birth next time.
And with one push and the use of their tool, his head came out. I felt like they were trying to pull my entire skeleton out from the skin of my body. I sort of felt like I was in some horror scenario in a film. Nothing should be pulled with such force from that area of a woman's body! Yikes!
They announced (rather enthusiastically) that the head was out and this was working, and also commented that the cord was wrapped very, very tightly TWICE around his neck (hence him getting in deeper trouble as each contraction pushed him down... and I BET the artificial rupture of the membranes could have contributed to that...) so with a second push (and god-awfully intense PULL) he was out completely, but I was so out of it in drug-la-la land that I had a hard time connecting that he was out at all. They then said he was on my chest, which I couldn't even feel. I looked down in a blur and saw his swirly brown-black hair and just the top of his head. Then they realized there had been meconium that was passed in there as well, so they quickly brought him over to the resuscitation to check him over (he wasn't crying or reacting too much.)
They eventually got him to have little "mew-like" cries and luckily he didn't ingest much of the meconium and the cord was pulled away just in time. They stitched me up (a small episiotomy was made..., GRR... but luckily just small, and one natural tear that needed only one stitch) while my husband was over with Otis.
The crew in the theatre were telling me how fantastic I pushed and the strength of my pushes helped get him out so fast that it likely helped prevent losing him. GEE, THANKS! If they hadn't had the back-up of my two insanely big pushes, they would have had to try to pull him out themselves and it would not have been as effective or quick. They all commented on how beautiful he was and they loved his name... they said his name was "very strong."
They finished me up and gave me Otis and wheeled me back to the room. I hate what all happened, but in the end... you never know why these things happen. My midwife, Debbie, who had left her shift but a couple hours previous to all this happening... didn't expect it at all. She had no idea this would happen because up until she left, everything was progressing beautifully. What happened? Who knows? I don't.
Things to be happy about... despite some concerns with his heartrate and his body temperature, they eventually rectified themselves and he had been perfect ever since. He had also taken to breastfeeding without problems and I latched him myself very well, which the midwives commented on. They were especially impressed with how long I get him to feed at a time. We worked well together... me and my boy.
I had a string of post-severe sleep deprivation migraines over a few days after I got home. Just awful. I don't think I had ever in my life been without sleep for so long, not to mention with such WORK on top of it all!
I'm grateful he was there, healthy, and safe. I wouldn't trade the long, drawn-out experience because I did have a very positive beginning that lasted a majority of the overall time laboring. There is always next time, and in the end, I didn't have to have a c-section. Why? Because I rule at pushing. Obviously!
I went into labor January 20th, 2010. He was born January 22nd, 2010 at 8.49am, weighing 6lbs, 12oz. His due date was January 25th, 2010.
Adding additionally (that birth story above was typed my first night back at home!) - I get the super warm fuzzies looking at him again as a newborn in these photos below. Newborn babies - how WONDERFUL are they? My little baby! Sigh. I can't believe how much he has grown and changed from over two years ago. Mind-blowing. Motherhood is about the most incredible thing.
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1 week old:
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2 years old!:
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:)
