I will preface our labor and delivery story with the end of our experience, a beautiful healthy, boy. Our story is just that, our story. I am not making any pronouncements on how things should or shouldn’t be done and as a result, I hope that the lack of regrets will be reflected in its telling.
On Sunday, April 28th at 8:45, I felt a POP inside of my body. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. It didn’t hurt and as I was just waking up, I wasn’t sure if it was something I dreamt or actually experienced. After getting up to go to the bathroom I realized that the thing we were waiting for was about to happen, my water had broken!!! I didn’t start having contractions right away but there was a feeling of relief as the baby was almost a full week past the estimated due date.
My husband and I did some last minute prep here and there while I kept an eye on the fluid leaving my body. At some point some of the fluid looked slightly worrisome so we called the Birth and Wellness Center where we received all of our pre-natal care and where the baby would be born. We were asked to come in so the mid-wife on duty could have a look at it. We put our bags and the car seat in the car just in case things really got to moving. My mother, who had arrived a week before, would wait at home for a phone call while taking care of any last minute preparations. It was a 40 minute drive to the Birthing Center and I had begun to feel some contractions but nothing alarming.
When we arrived at the Birthing Center, the mid-wife on duty checked the sanitary napkins and found that one showed meconium in it. Meconium is a body waste released by the baby usually after birth but can sometimes, usually when a baby is past the due date, be found in the uterine fluid. This can be a problem and so she conducted a fetal stress test and the baby passed just fine. At this point the contractions were about 8 minutes apart and lasting for a minute. We would return to the Birthing Center when the contractions were 3-5 minutes a part, lasting 1 minute.
My husband and I opted not to drive back home 45 minutes away and instead, called up a friend that I knew may be home where we could wait. While spending a couple of hours with her the contractions started coming harder and with more frequency. I knew we were getting close to the time to head over to the Birthing Center so going home was not an option. We booked a hotel room and my mother met us there. I was there for all of 30 minutes before the contractions really started to come much closer together. We arrived at the Birthing Center around 7:00 and were the only people in the labor and delivery area.
What followed after arriving at the Center were hours of my body trying to bring our son down the birth canal. I had always wanted to have a water birth and there was a huge birthing tub in my room. I can honestly say that I was okay with the contraction pain until they started to increase in intensity and timing. There are 4 stages to labor and contrary to what movies may have us believe, each stage is distinct. With the contractions coming so much faster and stronger I thought for sure that I was in what is called “Transition” where the baby passes through the cervix and into the vaginal opening. Usually from here it is only a matter of time before the baby is born. In my case though, the intense contracts were coming back to back and though I felt the need to push, I was only 6 cm dilated. I began to throw up everything I ate or drank. If I drank a cup of water it seemed that three were coming out. I started passing out between the contractions. I lost all sense of time and I also began to feel like something was not right. When I found out I was staying at 6 cm, I began to plead for them to do something more. At some point in between the daze of intense contractions, the mid-wife came to the side of the birthing tub with a concerned look on her face. She told me she was worried about how tired I was, how long I had been in labor, and the fact that my cervix had not dilated passed 6 cm in all that time. She suggested us going to the hospital for an Epidural. It was not what my husband and I had planned. This was our first step giving up on our vision to bring our child into the world with as few interventions as possible. It was heartbreaking and scary but something in me knew it had to be done.
So we prepared to leave the Center for the hospital. When I got into the car and I saw the clock I was shocked. It was 4:30 in the morning. There had not been a clock in the birthing room so I had no idea how long I had been there. When I arrived at the hospital and signed paper work in a fog of pain and fatigue, I was taken to my hospital room where I was administered an Epidural. Through all of this my husband, mother and doula were by my side. When I woke up a few hours later I saw my husband asleep on a couch and our doula asleep on a palate on the floor. My mother had gone back to the hotel to sleep and gather our things. The mid-wife from the night before had ended her shift and a new mid-wife arrived, one that I had had numerous visits with and really liked. The first thing she said to me was, “I don’t like the OR. “ This translated to me as, “ I will do my best not help you not have a C-section.”
I fell asleep throughout the day to the sound of my baby’s heartbeat. I thought it was a funny twist in positions seeing as he had been listening to my heart for months. The steady sound of his heart comforted me and I knew he was fine. Although I could not feel the pain of them, I continued to have contractions and could feel the pressure. At around 3:00 in the afternoon we got the great news that I was now 10 cm dilated and could start pushing. Nothing but excitement all around the room. I “listened” to my body to feel when a pushing urge came to me and I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed. For five hours I pushed and the baby got to a point in the birth canal and did not move past it. My mid-wife left the room for a bit and when she came back she had a worried look on her face. “The baby is showing fetal distress. His heart is tachycardic and the meconium is getting thicker. He needs to come out quickly. “ When she said this I knew things were serious. A doctor came in to reiterate what was told to me and to answer any questions. I cried the whole time. Everyone kept telling me not to be disappointed and I tried telling them through sobs that I didn’t care about our plan, I was worried about the baby. I was happy to know that my husband and our mid-wife would be with me in the operating room.
The surgical team was amazing. Everyone was really nice and they took the time to comfort me as I cried through the entire procedure. There was a blue curtain in front of my face so I couldn’t see him when he was taken out. Instead, he let out a loud cry announcing his appearance and it was the most beautiful noise I had ever heard. All I felt was relief as I lay there and the doctors stitched me up.
I was taken to a recovery room where I got to meet our son face to face for the first time. He looked like an old man in a baby’s body. And he was beautiful. He is beautiful.
The days that have followed his birth have been a roller coaster. I have been emotional. I have struggled with the implications of a C-Section. The constant pain, the lack of mobility, the delay in milk production and how all of these factors come together to greatly decrease my options for interacting with my son. My husband has shown that he has a vast capacity to not only take care of others but to do so with compassion and patience.
An unexpected consequence of the C-Section was that I started having shortness of breath. I couldn’t carry on a long conversation without having to stop and catch my breath. I also was not sleeping well. I figured out the only way I could sleep was sitting up which was not very comfortable. After about a week or so of this I finally went to see our nurse mid-wife. She was able to find evidence that the right side of my body was not getting oxygen effectively so I was taken to the hospital that the Birthing Center is affiliated with. After numerous tests it was discovered that I had fluid in my right lung. A significant amount. A procedure called a TAP, the short version of the word, was performed on me and over a liter of fluid was drained from my lung. The head doctor on the team commented that it was a testimony to how amazing my body is that I was able to still function at all with the amount of fluid blocking my lung.
I have not seen my son in two days. This has brought with it its own set of emotions and thoughts. He is being taken care of by his more than capable father so I am not worried about his safety or that his needs are being met.
This is not the birth story that I envisioned writing. It is vastly different from the experience I had created in my imagination. This was my first lesson in the art of parenthood, our best laid plans may be blown to the four winds and the only constant must be love.
