I was given a "due date" of Sunday, April 3rd, and that day came and went without even a Braxton Hicks contraction to be felt (as I suspected it would). As the next few days also passed without incident, I decided to start taking Evening Primrose to help soften my cervix, hoping to help Mother Nature on it's course. My doctor (Dr. Claudia Koch--love, love, love her!) said she usually lets her patients go to approximately 41 1/2 weeks as long as everything is going well with mother and baby, so I definitely wanted to go into labor naturally within that time frame, to avoid any induction methods. I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for Friday April 8th, which I had been hoping not to make it to, but Friday came and still no baby, so off we went to the doctor.
Baby and I checked out well, and the doctor asked if I wanted her to check and see if I was any further dilated at this point (she had checked at my previous appointment the week before, and announced I was maybe 1 cm dilated, if that), but I declined at this point, figuring it didn't do me any good to know if I was or not--Baby obviously wasn't coming yet! She then discussed the possibility of stripping my membranes, explaining that she would rather attempt that sort of induction method than using a drug. The thought that it might come to having to induce scared me a lot, as I kept picturing the slippery slope of interventions, and I was convinced that if it came to that, I would end up with a C-section. (OK, OK a dramatic, I know--blame it on the hormones). She suggested we meet again the following Tuesday (my birthday!), and if I still hadn't gone into labor, she would strip my membranes to try and get things going. I left the appointment scared and disappointed.
I decided to start tying some natural induction methods (except Castor oil, I decided that having massive diarrhea just did not sound appealing whatsoever, and I had a 45 minute drive to the hospital...imagine that drive!) I kept up with the Evening Primrose, I had Clint massage the labor-inducing acupressure points, I ate a ton of fresh pineapple (suggested by my doula), even "got cozy" with Clint. :)
Saturday during a trip to the bathroom, I discovered that I lost my mucous plug and/or had some bloody show... I'm not really sure which... I think maybe both. I tried not to get too excited, because then I read that it could still be days/weeks until labor begins.
BUT...
Sunday morning, April 10th, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. with menstrual-like cramps that were definitely different from any Braxton Hicks I had previously felt. They weren't particularly painful, and were coming about every 10-15 minutes. I just had a feeling that this was it... FINALLY! I thought for sure we would be headed to the hospital by afternoon...
HA!
The day dragged on, and the contractions stayed pretty much the same intensity. Just when I thought they were getting closer together, I wouldn't feel one for 20-30 minutes. I got in contact with my doula (the first of MANY phone calls/texts throughout the day as I bombarded her with questions about my labor: Now they are a little closer together, should I go to the hospital now? The last one felt a little stronger, should I go to the hospital now? I am getting really anxious, should I go to the hospital now? Bless her heart, she put up with all of my questions!), who reminded me that I should try to RELAX, and keep myself occupied, and get some sleep if I could, because this sounded like the real deal to her, so eventually I'd be heading to the hospital to meet our Baby!!! I decided the nap sounded like a good idea, since I had only slept for about 4 hours the night before. I headed to bed, but only managed to sleep for about an hour; I was waaaay too excited/nervous to sleep! (I would later regret this.) We had family over to visit, so that kept me occupied for a while. I also didn't eat too much (something else I would regret later), because I absolutely dreaded the thought of "Going Number 2" during delivery.
As evening approached, I noticed the contractions coming at more regular intervals. My doula gave me a link to a website contractionmaster.com that would time my contractions with the click of a button, and keep track of the intervals at which they are happening. I played around with that for a while, until they were about five minutes apart, lasting one minute for about an hour. Then I started to get a little (OK, a lot) nervous, because right about that time we got some nasty weather rolling through the area; severe thunderstorms, gusty winds and threats of tornadoes. the last thing I wanted to drive through in the midst of labor was a tornado. Since my contractions were pretty regular at this point, and the weather was getting bad, and we had a 45 minute drive ahead of us, and I was pacing around the house like a made woman (relax?! Not a chance), at 9:30 p.m. I called my doula--for the millionth time--and told her we were going to head to the hospital. Then I called the doctor and told her my news. They both said they would meet us there. We grabbed our bags (which had been mostly packed since my original due date; we finished putting things together earlier in the afternoon when we figured this was really happening), texted our families that we were heading to the hospital, and said a final goodbye to the life as we knew it was we walked out the door.
All I could think about was" Oh my God, this is really happening! And: Oh. My. Go. This is really happening!
We arrived at the hospital (Columbia St. Mary's Mequon) at 10:00 p.m. and we were taken to our birthing suite. I had filled out paperwork ahead of time, so we were able to bypass the admission process. The nurse had me change into a gown, took my vitals, and hooked me up to the monitors to read Baby's heart rate and my contractions. I had given the doctor a few copies of my birth plan, and she made sure the nursing staff also had a copy so they knew I requested only intermittent monitoring, so the nurse informed me I would be hooked up to the monitors for a few minutes about once an hour to get readings. At this point my contractions were definitely stronger (though still manageable), and coming about every 4-5 minutes. The doctor arrived at this point, and she checked to see how much I was dilated: 4 cm and 80% effaced. Not bad! I decided I would take a few laps around the floor for awhile (I wish I had a pedometer to see how far I actually walked that night!), so Clint, myself and the doula began walking. And walking. And walking...
After that became immensely boring, we made our way back to the room, where I tried some different positions with the birthing ball for a while, watching some TV, tried to get Clint to sleep (he refused; he actually never left my side the entire time, he was amazing!), and basically tried to pass the time as best we could. I was getting really tired at this pint (remember, I'm running on about five hours of sleep), but I wasn't able to sleep through the contractions any more. The doula suggested we try the hot tub, so I sat in the tub, listening to my relaxation CD for about an hour. I must say, the tub was AMAZING. It really took the edge off the contractions, and it was incredibly relaxing and peaceful. I felt like one of the women in the birth videos that is in a totally relaxed, meditative state, and is making labor look like a piece of cake. I thought, "This isn't so bad!" I actually think I said that out loud to the doula; she just laughed.
When I got tired of the tub (I couldn't seem to focus on any one position for very long), the doctor decided to check me again. In the six hours since I had arrived, I was now at 5 cm. WHAT?! ONLY ONE CENTIMETER FURTHER?!?!?! That was when the first little seed of doubt was planted; was I really going to be able to do this? They assured me that the first 5 cm usually take the longest to get through; now I should start progressing faster. So, off we went, more walking...
The next few hours basically consisted of more walking, trying more positions with the bed and birth ball, and another round in the tub. I was pretty exhausted by now, and the only place I actually managed to doze off between contractions (which were about 2-3 minutes part at this point and really strong) was the tub. The doctor had told me to let her know when I started to feel pressure "down there", like an urge to have a bowl movement. This, she assured me, would not be a bowel movement, it would signal time to start pushing. (I still hadn't eaten much at this point, so I'm sure there was no danger of me really having a bowel movement. I should add that I was allowed to eat and drink anything I wanted the entire time I was at the hospital, which I think is great. I should have taken advantage of that.) While I was in the tub I started to feel the pressure, and the doctor told me to start bearing down a little with each contraction, if it felt good to do that.
At some point I decided I wanted to get out of the tub and walk around some more. I think I only did that for a few laps because the contractions were really strong and I had to stop and lean against Clint for each one. I must say I think I was handling the contractions really well; don't get me wrong, they were STRONG, and I had to make a conscious effort to relax for every one, but I just tried to open up, relax every muscle in my body, and I just wanted to lay down, so I climbed into bed to try and rest between contractions, but holy crap that was so uncomfortable to just lay in the bed. So the doula positioned the bed into a chair (the head raised up, and the foot dropped down), and I tried bearing down like that for awhile.
The doctor came back in and decided to check to make sure I was fully dilated so I could push, and she discovered that I had an anterior cervical lip, resulting from Baby's head not being in proper alignment, I think. She told me she would try and push the lip out of the way during the next contraction, and when she did I thought I was going to pass out because it hurt more than the contractions. I think I even screamed a little. Since she wasn't able to push it out of the way (because I was begging her not to do that again), she had me get on my hands and knees, resting on a birthing ball, to see if that position would help move the lip out of the way. I found that position EXTREMELY uncomfortable with contractions; this was the point when I lost that "feeling like the relaxed, meditative woman who thinks this is a piece of cake." There was definite moaning and crying and saying "I don't want to do this any more." (Transition, anyone?!)
I think I managed that position for about a half an hour, then I begged to try something else. Luckily, when the doctor checked me again, the lip was gone (she later admitted she was a bit worried that the lip wouldn't move out of the way; I wonder what would have happened then?!) and the doula put a squat bar on the bed so I was able to try pushing while squatting. I found the uncomfortable also, partly because I was so utterly exhausted at this point, that I found it hard to hold myself into a squat, even with the assistance of the bar (this is where I start regretting not napping longer and not eating to have some energy). After doing this for awhile, I asked to just lay flat on the bed, because I no longer had the energy to hold myself up. So, yes, I ended up delivering Baby in the worst possible position... flat on my back in bed!!! Go figure. :)
So I pushed... and pushed... and pushed... and with every push Clint, the doctor, doula and nurses cheered me on, saying how great a job I was doing, and I wanted to punch every one of them in the face and tell them to shut up unless they were going to tell me that the head was coming out with the next push. Every time I pushed, I absolutely knew I wasn't going to be able to push any longer. I just had no energy left (I couldn't even open my eyes, I was soooo exhausted), but every time I managed another tremendous push. Then I remember thinking; OK that's it, I'm done,, I cannot do this anymore, they are going to have to take me for a C-section because I cannot push any longer.
And finally... at 12:55 p.m. on April 11 (one before my birthday--I guess she didn't want to share a birthday with me after all!) I gave birth to Eve Margaret, weighing 8 lbs. 11 oz. and 20 inches long. Clint got to grab her head while they suctioned her mouth out, then ease her body out as I gave the final push. They put her on my chest, and I was in complete awe at finally getting to see the baby that had grown inside me for the last nine months. They wiped her off and when she didn't pink up fast enough for their liking, they put an oxygen mask on her face for a few minutes to help her breathe a little better. Clint got to cut the cord after it had stopped pulsing, and she was kept on my chest for some skin-to-skin bonding and to try and start breastfeeding (more requests from my birth plan). Meanwhile, the doctor was busy tending to me, which consisted of delivering the placenta (I was terrified of having to push yet another thing out of my body at this point, even though I knew this couldn't hurt as much as pushing a baby out) and stitching a small internal tear. I was still bleeding a little too much, so they gave me a short of Pitocin to help contract my uterus, and then discovered a piece of the placenta still inside my uterus. Once that was out, I was OK. We had decided to forgo the eye ointment and Vitamin K shot for Eve (we bought oral Vitamin K drops to give her instead), so they finally cleaned her up, checked her out, and give her back to us to enjoy.
The whole aftermath is a blur, I do remember shaking like a leaf from Adrenalin and exhaustion. I also remember looking at Clint and say, "WE ARE NEVER HAVING KIDS AGAIN! I CANNOT DO THAT EVER AGAIN!" The next day, it became "OK, maybe we can have another kid, but I CANNOT do that without drugs!" Today I have decided that I wouldn't be able to do it any other way than how I did it. I'm so proud of my accomplishment and totally in awe of my body's ability to give birth. I realized I am a lot stronger than I ever thought. I just hope that it goes a little faster next time. :)
Christy & Clint, Eden
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