Jun 12

Jun 12 A Birth Story: Part 2

Part 2: The Main Event

We arrived at the hospital sometime between 12:30 and 1 am (this is all pretty hazy to me honestly, I had almost no break in between the contractions and that’s all I could think, how desperately I just wanted a break). We finally were taken into triage and they told me I was still only 2 cm dilated and they doubted my water had broken (we knew for sure it had), until they hooked me up to monitor the contractions and saw how close together they were. They got us into a room, and told us it was a good thing we arrived when we did, because we got the last open labor and delivery room. (Which like…what?!) By the time my doula arrived 20 minutes after us she said 3 women were waiting in the lobby. I don’t think I’d have survived that so I’m really glad we got there when we did. I’m pretty sure Eric would have bribed every person who worked in that hospital to get me into a room and/or punched a wall.

I was, at this point, literally begging for the epidural. I had gone into this saying “I’ll get it if I need it, and if I don’t need it I won’t.” Well, I needed it. The fact that it had been 3 hours already without the ability to take a deep breath left my brain so foggy all I could think or say was “I just need a break.” I don’t really know how long it took for them to come in and administer the epidural, and I actually enjoyed the brief pain of getting it because it was something other than a contraction. The relief was instant once it kicked in, and I just remember feeling like a fog was lifted and I could think again. The inventor of the epidural should win a Nobel Peace Prize. Actually, every single one. Forever.

Over the course of the night I needed to call them to top off the epidural because I was having breakthrough spots that weren’t covered, which would turn out to be prophetic for the end of labor. I was shaking pretty hard from the epidural, which scared the crap out of me, and my legs were so swollen and dead I couldn’t move them at all, which was also scary. My doula assured us it was all normal. I was so glad she was there, because the nurses were so in and out and changed many times during the course of the night, so it was invaluable to me to have someone who knew not to panic every time a machine beeped (the monitor on his heartbeat kept moving) or that the wild, intense shaking was normal. I didn’t sleep much, but I think I got a few minutes here or there. Eric got a little bit of sleep too, despite how much his back was hurting him on the couch, poor thing. A true saint. At 5 am I was 5 cm dilated, and by 9 am, ready to go.

My epidural was working well at that point, and I was feeling good. I was cracking jokes, not really fully comprehending what was coming. As the team gathered in the room (a couple nurses, a medical resident, and a PA or something like that. 2 men, which was actually kind of weird because up until that point all of my providers for the whole pregnancy had been women), I told them that I thrive on positive reinforcement, and that they should clap for me after each push, as if Tinkerbell were delivering a baby.

They got set up and we were ready to go. They had turned off my epidural so I could feel pressure to help with pushing, but I still didn’t feel anything as we got started and I was pretty sure nothing was going to happen. I started pushing at 9:35. They told me that they could see his head with the first push, that this was incredible, and everyone literally clapped for me as requested. I declared confidently that I would have him out by 10:45, exactly 12 hours after my water broke.

Pushing was going well for the first 20-30 minutes or so, and then I had a breakthrough spot right above my left pubic bone. The pushing itself was fine, but that spot would start to flare up right before a contraction, burn me all through it, and leave me so breathless from the pain that I couldn’t catch my breath before the next contraction started only 30 seconds later. They told me that my contractions were super close together because they could now see the baby was facing sideways and my body was trying to turn him. I’d have to push extra hard to get him under the pubic bone and all the way out.

They set up the mirror for me, which was invaluable for me to understand what was working and what wasn’t (even if you think you don’t want it, ask for it. You can always look away). We kept seeing his head, then he’d pop back in. It was wild. The top of his head was bright purple, which was confusing as I thought that baby heads were white or black, depending if they had hair. It turns out this was bruising from getting pushed against my pubic bone repeatedly and so hard. Finally, after about 40 minutes or so (I think) he got past that spot. Everyone exclaimed “you did it! Did you feel that? He turned!” I was like NO I don’t feel anything just get him out! That breakthrough spot was unbearable. Once he got past that turning point, it wasn’t long before he was almost out. They called the OB back in (it had been a medical resident or PA or someone named Garrett who had been in charge while the OB popped in and out until then, and he did an amazing job and Garrett if you’re out there, thank you because you and your buckets of gel lube saved me), and they set up the table full of slicing instruments just in case, which made Eric almost pass out completely.

To be honest, I don’t remember where Eric was or anything he said during the birth. I was totally focused on the mirror and on my doula. She was holding a leg and was keeping me updated on what was normal, kept telling me I was doing great, that I was making progress, etc. She was my rock in that moment. Eric was up by my head, trying not to faint I think.

At the last minute, the baby’s heart rate dropped off the monitor. The OB looked at me and for the first time seemed a little concerned. She told me he was in distress and it was time to seriously get him out. 2 more big pushes and that was it, he was out. I don’t remember the moment very well, that breakthrough pain was so overwhelming it was all I could think of, I was back in the brain fog. Selfishly, once he was out, all I could think was that I wanted the pain to stop, my first thought wasn’t even to see the baby. They briefly placed him on my chest, but they were concerned about fluid in his lungs and whisked him off to a table on the side of the room, while the team delivered the placenta (I barely noticed) and then examined for tears. Miraculously, there was no tear, and I just needed one internal stitch. Again, thank you to Garrett and the buckets of lube.

My doula told Eric to go see the baby across the room as they were working on him. They turned my epidural back on (I think?) and started the Pitocin to contract my uterus, along with the highly unenjoyable fundal massage. Finally I felt a little relief and I believe I asked a few times if the baby was ok at that point. My doula assured me he was, they were just suctioning his lungs to make sure he got the fluid out. Eric had to be reminded again to go over there, which I actually thought was sweet, he really didn’t want to leave me. Finally he did and took some pictures of the baby being examined and weighed, and after a few minutes they brought him back to my chest. I think my doula helped get some colostrum out and he was able to lick that off, and everyone seemed pleased. We both got to hold him, and then they turned off the epidural and my legs slowly started to come back.

I asked again what time I started pushing, which was 9:35. And remember my declaration that I’d have the baby out at 10:45, 12 hours after my water broke and labor really got started? Official birth time was 10:47 am.