All About Babies- My First Birth Experience
I lasted until I was 40 weeks and 5 days to get a scheduled induction for my son's delivery. After having prodromal labor for about a month, and having my hips slip at about 33 weeks pregnant, but the time we reached term I was succumbed to my bed on muscle relaxers, bored and in pain. I couldn't wait to give birth already! I had only dilated 1cm and my cervix was very high and hard.
The Thursday night we went to the hospital, I remember my hubby and I enjoyed one last evening together, eating a giant feast of various leftovers since I knew I wouldn't be able to eat once I checked into the hospital. It felt so odd to me to check into labor and delivery to wait in a waiting room with a handful of other waiting Mama's as though we were going in for a regular check-up. Finally, we got called back to our room, where I was set up with a dose of cervidil to start ripening my cervix for the next day. It didn't hurt, but it was so hard to get a good night's sleep with the beeping and nurse checks and general coldness of the hospital room. I had the worst nightmare that left me in tears and anxious for the morning to come. Luckily I fell back asleep until.my 7am wakeup call.
In the morning, the nurse woke me up suggesting I shower before my doctor came in to start the pitocin drip. Not long into the morning did she arrive to set me up. We had read up some on induction process and talked with a close friend who helped us know what medical procedures to advocate for myself and the baby. The first thing was the strength of the pitocin. We had been warned they might try to start it off high so I would progress faster, but that wasn't safe nor necessary. My husband got them to comply after too much discussion, and soon after, my doctor broke my waters. I wish I had been warned. I wanted my water to break in it's own to give myself as much time to labor as possible. I didn't know I had an option to refuse that service, nor did I know how much it would limit my opportunities of pain relief for the drugless birth I was hoping to have (which my doctor and nurse KNEW I'd wanted). With a broken water bag came an internal fetal monitor, which then meant I was to stay in bed, period.
I was so upset. I felt incredibly deceived.
Eventually, my husband got them to remove the monitor and use the wireless one instead so I could walk around and use the yoga balls and rocking chair like I'd wanted. For a while, my contractions were bearable. We watched some Redbox movies to pass the time. I was angsty to progress and get my baby!
It soon would show that my labor was not moving along very fast. Everytime my nurse came in to do her notes on me, she made sure I knew how frustrated she was at my slow progression that was not up to the expectations of her "type a" personality. It was so discouraging. Even though I was on pitocin, my contractions weren't strong enough to get the baby engaged and things moving, and it was insisted that the drip was increased again. Soon, the real, hard contractions started kicking in, and coping with my back to back contractions was getting to be really difficult. We had bought a diffuser from home to diffuse lavender oil into the room, and bought my favorite lavender pillow spray that we'd put on my pillow or on a cold wash rag on the back of my neck. I bounced on a yoga ball and went for short walks at my nurse’s disapproval and tried to take advantage of the wireless monitor that’d been put on me.
They weren't cutting it though, and after 8 hours of labor, I had only opened up to about 4.5 cm. I wanted to go ahead and use the birth pool I had been told about at the hospitals birth class then. I had lasted as long as I could and needed relief and energy! That's when the information was shared that I had to be 5cm before I could go in the pool. I lost it. All the confidence I had in my body and birth up to that point emptied from me when my last resource was stripped away. My nurse again reminded my how poorly I was progressing and how if this kept up, I was looking at a C-section unless I got an epidural.
Since I had reached viability in my pregnancy, I had been constantly reminded by my doctor and other well-meaning individuals that I would never make it without pain meds. I was chastised for my decision so often, and by the time I was 39 weeks pregnant, had lost confidence in the birth I had been hoping and planning for. After another powerful contraction, I yelled out the secret word to my husband that alerted him I'd had enough and needed an epidural.
"STRAWBERRIES! Strawberries, strawberries, strawberries!"
He knew that if I said that it could only mean one thing, since I was allergic to strawberries and wouldn't be asking for them for any other reason. He affirmed that indeed, I'd had enough before he hurried out the door to ask for the anesthesiologist. According to my husband, it took about 45 minutes from that last straw until there was a needle in my heavily contracting back.
I was disappointed to have gotten the pain meds, but I knew I'd be looking at a worse option if I didn't get much needed rest. I was exhausted and couldn't figure out where I was going to find the energy to push out a baby in another 8 hours. After the medication settled in, I was instructed to drape my leg over a peanut ball while on my side while I napped, to help me open and progress.
Two hours later, my husband and I woke up feeling refreshed, and I was told I'd progressed finally. Since I was numb from.the waste down and unable to do much else, I was helped into a frog position on my hands and knees to help the baby engaged better into my pelvis and finish dilating. We finished watching our Redbox movie and I ate some Jello, which about 20 minutes later I threw up. Finally hearing an encouraging words from my nurse, she excitedly shared how my body may be in transition and the end almost near.
She was right. Because after about an hour in that position I was fully effaced and dilated and it was time to start pushing.
In this in-between time that my numbed legs were lifted into stir-ups and the room prepared for delivery, I opened up the prayer notes I had friends and family write at my baby shower. I had gotten the idea from my old roommate who told me about one of the leaders at her summer camp who would, while working very pregnantly, collect prayers in a jar to pray through while she was in labor. I thought that was the best idea I’d ever heard and wanted to do it to take time to not focus on myself or the baby for a little while, while I had a clear space in my head and my life would change forever. It was so cool to see how God had worked in the month in between my baby shower and the delivery, and the things He was still working on in my friends' lives.
Soon it was time to start pushing. It was weird feeling my little guy move through my hips being numbed from the epidural. I had to wait every other contraction to push to give his heartbeat a chance to rise and I was given an oxygen mask to help him too. My 2nd shift nurse was so perfect and nice. I wish we’d had her the whole time. She had me stop for just a few minutes so the doctor scours get her cover on and catch the baby, and within minutes, I’d pulled a slick, earthy-smelling baby onto my chest. It was the most surreal feeling! After 12 hours of labor and 45 minutes of pushing, our gangly, pointy- headed baby was earth side with us!
Two years out from my first birth experience, I’ve only just learned that my body happened to do an amazing job opening up for me. I didn’t realize that I wouldn’t have been there best candidate for an induction with my high, closed cervix. It was also a surprise to me that my labor only lasted 12 hours. It was definitely a learning experience, and in the end, I’m glad I was able to go home with a healthy baby and body. It certainly influenced my concept of labor and how I hoped to give birth the next times, but also made me want to learn more about the process and my body to be able to make more informed choices the next time around.
This time, I’ve been able to prepare my body so much better for birth and I’m still learning! The most important thing I’ve learned though is that at the end of the day, having a healthy baby is the end goal each time, as well as a healthy mama, and that I can’t be disappointed in whatever ends up happening or comparing my body and birth stories to the mamas that might’ve gotten to have my “dream birth.” In the light of eternity, this isn’t going to make or break me, it’s merely a story of God’s graciousness to bless me with children and make the best of my circumstances! If anything, the decades that follow my birthing experiences will say a lot more about my character and motherhood than the way I bring my children into the world!