From the Beginning

I wanted to take the time to write our “birth story” before it became so far in the past that I couldn’t remember it. It’s true what everyone says, that you blank it out almost immediately.  Once that baby pops out you do forget. You see that little human and it all makes sense.  Bang, you’ve joined the club. Boom, you get it.

I went into early labor at about 4PM on Sunday the 12th of September.  I wasn’t really sure it was labor, but it was contractions that interrupted my nap and felt very different than the Braxton Hicks I had been having since 28 weeks. We didn’t call anyone or do anything differently.

Actually we took a bunch of pregnancy pictures (which I have yet to see) and went to bed early to watch a tv show because I also had a brutal headache. Chris stayed up for a while and timed my contractions on an iPhone app.  At that point the were 5-8 minutes apart.  I begged Chris to go to sleep and he did, though he made me promise to keep timing the contractions on his phone, which I mostly did.

By six in the morning I could no longer lie down durning a contraction. They were about three minutes apart and cause me to moan and rock and hum.  Chris text messaged the doula.

(and now, a word from our technological sponsors…”text messaged the doula”???!!! What the hell? Timed contractions on the iPhone? What kind of a freaking natural birth uses these gadgets?!  We did.)

The doula wrote back that she had an exam that morning and would call us when she was done. But, but, who was going to help us?  This hadn’t been our plan! We had hired the doula for ONE reason: to know when to go to the hospital.  And here we are, in labor, not knowing!  And she’s texting us that we will know and should go when we feel ready.

I take a shower.  I call the midwife’s office and the person on call tells me, yeah, it sounds like I should head to the hospital. But, she says, remember to eat.  Since I had gestational diabetes they wouldn’t let me eat in the hospital.  However, my midwife believes that labor is more successful if the laboring woman has the energy to keep going.  Made sense to me so Chris made eggs.

It was seven o’clock.  Now, between 8pm and 8am if you are checking into the hospital you have to park and enter into the emergency room.  This was NOT something I wished to do. So, despite my progressive contractions we moved very slowly and got into the car at eight.

The car ride.  Let me set the scene for you. Little baby efficiency decided to send momma to the hospital on Monday morning.  Monday morning, 8am.  Rush hour traffic. Normally the drive takes 45 minutes (we practiced by taking childbirth classes there).  I’ve got my seat cranked back and am holding on to the handle above the window writhing with each contraction.  It’s s beautiful crisp fall morning and I can see the stopped cars and the potholes stretched out for miles.

We get to the hospital and Chris drops me off while he parks.

I better be in labor, I say, because I am not getting in the car again.  We are admitted and head up to the labor and delivery floor.  It’s 10am now and they hook me up to the monitors for 20 minutes to see what my contractions look like. I have none. The hospital has scared the baby back up. They decide to check my cervix and see if I’d really been having “productive” contractions at home.

I chose not to have my cervix checked during my weekly prenatal visits so I was panicked about the pain of being checked. I’d heard stories.  Seems kind of strange to be scared of this when I was about to experience childbirth. I guess it seemed like a more manageable fear. But, when the doctor asked if I would let the med school student do it I said no.  I wasn’t in the mood to be a teachable moment.

I was 4cm dilated and 75% effaced.  Thank god. I was in active labor and didn’t have to go back into the car!

The only catch was that labor had stalled.  I hadn’t had a contraction since I walked in the door.  They doctors decided they’d give me an hour to walk around for one hour and see if my labor progressed. They’d keep me only if it did.  I walked and walked.

I prayed for contractions.  I was exhausted.  Nothing was happening.  So, we changed tactics and decided I should take a nap. I fell asleep for 20 minutes and woke up with the most intense contraction I had felt yet.  They checked my cervix again.  5cm and 100%.  I was having the baby today and they began the admittance paperwork. It was noon on Monday, September 13th.

I continued to have very precious few contractions. But those I did have were over two minutes long and very effective.  The doula showed up, we did more walking, Chris got the stuff from the car, they took my blood sugar a lot. They remembered that I was supposed to be on the monitors all the time and they took away the birth ball and stuck me in bed.  Grr.  The doula massaged me through each contraction and told me I could do it.  Chris helped me breathe and I squeezed the shit out of his hands.  He also had to lift me into different positions when I couldn’t move.  The nurse was wonderful and made me chicken broth.  It was the best thing I’d ever eaten. I volunteered to have more contractions just to have more chicken broth.

4pm and I made Chris get the doctors.  I was ready to push.  They checked my cervix again and sure enough 10cm and 100%.

Pushing was the number one hardest thing I have ever done in my life.  The doula held my right leg, the med student microwaved wet washcloths, the fellow applied counter pressure to my perineum, the nurse poured mineral oil on the baby’s head, the midwife held my left leg and Chris held up my back and neck. I hung onto the birth bar for dear life.

An hour and a half later I was convinced that the baby would never come out.  But, as Chris pointed out, all of the birth attendants suited up.  It was really happening.  I’ll spare you my vocalizations, but 15 intense minutes later our baby girl was born at 5:59pm, one minute shy of Chris’ 6pm prediction.

As she slid out I caught her and pulled her up to my chest where we were covered with a blanket and the little miss immediately took her first shit.  How relaxing to be out of the womb.

Her hands and feet were blue and we watched as she pinked right up in front of our eyes. Life would never be the same.

She scored a nine and a ten on the Apgar, her blood sugar was fine and she was 19 3/4 inches and 6 pounds 15 ounces, though we didn’t learn this until a few hours later.  She was perfect from birth. We named her a day later, Camilla Imogen Garrison and celebrated her birth with visiting friends and family.

Yes, we had our natural childbirth, no drugs and no interventions.  But at the end you realize, it has nothing to do with you or what you want.  All that matters in the end is the safety and health of your child. And once you see them, something clicks and it all makes sense.

I couldn’t have done it with out all of the help and support from my amazing birth coaches.  Most especially, Chris, who supported me through pregnancy, labor, delivery and every day since.