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Get ready for a long one….
(NOTE OF CAUTION: if you are having a baby in the next few months or are thinking about having a baby, please proceed with caution. This is not an Ina May approved birth story.)
Last we had left off we were laboring at home after the castor oil experience. Unfortunately the castor oil had me up for most of the night (I maybe registered 5 hours of sleep) and then went into labor at 5 am on Monday. And that was the last sleep I would see for two full days. Or the next year depending on how you think about it. In case you hadn’t figured it out, this is not the kind of rest you want to have going into an intense labor experience.
The first day laboring at home was pretty uneventful. Lots of walking and resting. I went into active labor around 7 pm, right around the time we were eating out at my favorite Cuban restaurant. Contractions started picking up and were getting more intense so we went home and started to get ready for the night. I was hoping I would be able to sleep a little between contractions but no such luck. I managed to get to midnight on my own but woke Jacob shortly after that. We were doing the “labor dance” for most of the night interspersed with time in the tub. I was trying to eat as much as I could to stay fortified for what was ahead.
By 3 am we were ready for Carissa our doula to come over. She did and we stayed at the house for another 2 hours. Contractions were coming every three minutes with some only a minute apart. For those of you who know what this means, I can’t believe I missed it. My back was also starting to feel worse and worse. Yes, that’s right. I had the dreaded back labor. I think that mostly I was trying to convince myself I didn’t.
We were at the hospital by 5:30 am on the 26th. We did some initial monitoring and I got an internal exam. I really only wanted one because I figured my body would tell me when I needed to push (in retrospect, dumb move #1). I was 7 1/2 cm dilated. You only have to get to 10 cm and after 24 hours, it seemed like the end was near. I was elated. (Ominous music plays in the background….)
Jacob and I got in the birth tub and I overheard one of the nurses say “we may have an unintentioned water birth today” (The Kaiser does not want you to have a water birth). The tub was great and I stayed in for a good 2 or 3 hours. After a while I felt like I needed to stand through contractions. Also, my back was starting to hurt bad. Jake would rub it pretty vigorously and had been for 27 hours and this point so I was feeling a bit raw. But I figured the end was in sight (cue the music).
Nothing seemed to happen for many long hours. The contractions were just as steady and long but I never felt any change past that. Around noon I decided to get checked again. NO PROGRESS. I had gone into transition (the all-hell-break-loose stage of labor) without budging from 8 cms. I was crushed. My bag o’ water, which apparently was made of steal, had not broken. Now my body was just going crazy. I was getting discouraged so contractions slowed down and the midwife was not happy about that. We also found out to my horror that the baby was indeed posterior (face up instead of down). This is really bad because baby’s need to take a little bit of a dive to get under the pelvic bone. It’s basically the Fosbury flop if you have to get through the other way and most baby’s just won’t do it. This leads to the dreaded C-Section.
Then it dawned on me. Not having a C-Section was the entire goal of this labor. All my other birth plan points went out the window. Getting to this goal, however, would be somewhat of a challenge. In order to turn the baby I needed to get into some positions that would help her move – hands and knees and sidelying. These positions did not allow me to use basically my only useful coping mechanism, the labor dance with back rubbing and sounding through the contractions. I was also completely spent at this point. We were at about 3 pm and I had been in labor for about 35 hours. My will power was shot and I didn’t even know if this would work.
I’d also had a few contractions that were so strong I vomited, once all over The Kaiser’s garden. It’s a strange feeling to lose control of your body and I was there. We tried to take a walk outside but I almost fainted. We decided to get an IV with some fluids since I wasn’t keeping anything down (goodbye birth plan). I went back inside to try my labor positions.
They also put something in my IV to “take the edge off the contractions” but I’m not convinced that ever happened because there was certainly no felt change in the pain. The contractions were starting to shut me down and the new labor positions were excruciating. By the end of the attempt to turn the baby I was hysterical. The pain in back felt like tiny gnomes with corkscrews were burrowing through me from the inside to the out. I thought the baby had made a right turn and decided to come straight through my back. And I felt like I had giant stones had been placed on top of my butt.
I’m no fool and the idea of an epidural was certainly entering my mind. But to do it at that point would put me on my back for the rest of the labor and I wouldn’t have been able to be in the positions that would keep the baby turning. There was nothing to do but go through with it.
Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. The midwife checked me and said that the baby had turned enough that we could try pushing but that the bag of water needed to go. She thought that would help me feel the urge to push. So she broke it easily (it was bulging out of my cervix) and I stepped into a closer circle of hell. The bag which had been protecting me from the baby being directly on my cervix and pelvic bone was now gone. Contractions got stronger (I am still amazed that there was a “stronger” category) and there was literally no break in between. They came one on top of the other. I reached a new level of hysteria. I would try to push (Brazilian squatting style!) but I would fall over with the pain every time I reached the top of the contraction which made my pushing ineffectual. I still felt no urge to push. I had forgotten why we were even there. There was no baby, no reason, no purpose to life, nothing but pain, weeping and gnashing of teeth.
Looking back this seems a little dramatic, but that’s where I was. I also knew that unless something changed, they were going to cut me open. The baby was now sideways and the pain was in my back and side. I couldn’t keep it up anymore.
We got a consultation from an anesthesiologist (whom I think is scarred for life) and decided to get a test dose of the epidural. This is what they give you to see how much you need for your labor and it’s injected, not on IV. I was feeling a little stupid for having to do this at this point since I was supposed to be pushing and no more than a few hours from the birth, but I didn’t know what else to do. So we went for it. The next half hour I exercised the most self-control of my life. To get an epidural and not be paralyzed for life you have to sit perfectly still for 15 minutes. This meant 15 contractions and you can imagine how this sounded to me at this point. Jacob was a champ at keeping me calm as I sat leaning forward on the edge of my bed.
The epidural kicked in at 6:30 pm and I instantly fell asleep. For 15 minutes. When I woke up I heard the midwife say that the baby’s heart rate was dropping. This is also something you hear right before women say, “and then they gave me a C-Section.” So my ears perked and I said, “let’s get ready to push.” Everyone was a little startled because they thought I would sleep for hours. By now I could feel my feet and calves again. I started to push but the midwife stopped me. Turns out that the way my pelvis is constructed there’s more room at the bottom than the top. So the babe had to make an extra big dive to get under the pelvic bone. Thank God by now she had turned completely so it was just a matter of pushing the right way. I would either have to be flat on my back, no sitting up at all, or standing. Alas for me and the Brazilian women squatting birth. Looks like I’ll never get to do that.
Pushing ended up being fine because the babe was already at the +2 station when we started. She descended quickly and we could see her head after only 30 minutes. It was shockingly quick after how long and drawn out everything else had been. I felt amazing pressure in my rectum. We started to see a round head with black hair and she stuck after only a few bobs in and out. The midwife was amazing at helping me not tear by massaging my perineum and putting on lots of oil. She was a really wonderful midwife and kept talking about the new baby elephant that was just born at the zoo. During contractions she would say, “okay, we’re gonna have a baby!” It was very encouraging.
A few more pushes and her head was out. One more push and her white body covered in vernix came sliding out. She cried instantly and they put her on my chest. She had her eyes open immediately and Jacob checked and announced her sex as we were snuggling. She was crying a cry that I already could pick out of a million babies. We got some good time together before they did any tests and I breastfed her in the first half hour. It was truly awesome.
But it is bullocks (for me any way) that you immediately forget all the pain and think, “I could do that again.” This very well could be the first and last child to whom I give birth. Of course I am kidding. Hahaha. Ha…. ha……………
So, folks, that’s how it went down. 40 total hours of labor, 6 hours of sleep, 10 1/2 hours of transition, one fantastic baby.
Hey everyone, it’s me again. We finally chose a name, mostly so I can move on to being indecisive about something else. She’s Tennyson Margaret, not named after the poet, but the spelling is the same. Her middle name is my maternal grandmother’s first name. Tennyson is her first great grandchild. Melissa has given her Scout as a nickname.
I am posting instead of Melissa because Tennyson is at a high risk for Jaundice and will be at the hospital at least until tomorrow afternoon. She is not at risk however for the permanent brain damage associated with severe Jaundice. After sleeping on and under UV lights and getting plenty of fluids for 24 hours she should be fine. So far she is enjoying the treatment. The heat and light is so therapeutic that she isn’t bothered by being naked. Normally she screams if she isn’t tightly swaddled. Oh, and don’t be alarmed by the monitors, they are unnecessary but required by protocol.
Hi everyone, it’s Jake. Meet my nameless daughter. She was born last night at 7:25 after a very long and difficult labor. We are all doing fine today. Melissa will no doubt write an epic post with a gallery of pictures in the days to come. I wish I could have written sooner, but I have just now managed to secure internet access, which was not available at the hospital. Thanks for all your support and prayers.
It has begun.
Around 5 am this morning (after a night of graphic, life changing diarrhea) baby Flo-Bix decided to make her move. We’re not sure if she was boycotting the Olympics or waiting for the Democratic National Convention. We’ll just have to wait and see if she comes out holding a “Obama-Biden” or “Free Tibet” sign.
I started having contractions remarkably close together for someone who is barely dilated and still has a cervix pointed back. Those slowed down an hour later from 5 minutes to 15 and there they have stayed. I lost my mucus plug this morning so we know this won’t belabor (ha ha) for a week. Usually the plug means 2-3 days max.
The contractions are really low in my abdomen and back. I’m a little surprised at how friends have had a hard time explaining them to me. Basically they are intense menstrual cramps. I’ve been able to sleep in between rushes, anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes and that has been nice. Our doula recommended me taking advantage of this low intensity time because of how little sleep I got last night. We’re guessing things will gear up sometime tonight. Oh boy.
I guess we should start thinking about what we are going to name this baby….
So if you’re the praying type, start praying for peace, steady labor, a healthy babe and for me not to turn into a wimpy ball of goo. If you’re not the praying type, pray anyway. It will be good for you.
Well, my mom is in town. She flew in yesterday which means there is new pressure for baby Flo-Bix to make an appearance. She’s only in town for 2 weeks; my dad comes in next Saturday and is only here for a week.
I’ve been shy about the castor oil and other things that cause diarrhea. But with not a single contraction under my belt and almost 5 days over the “due date,” it is time. So here I am, drinking apple juice with the c oil. I’m very much looking forward to waking up in the middle of the night to cleanse my colon. Yeah.
I’ve yet to have a friend for whom this method worked but, hey, why not.
I’ve been feeling a little sad this week. A job that I really, really wanted, one that I actually felt was a perfect fit with my gifts was offered to someone else. I wasn’t even asked to interview. It was a pretty tough blow and one that left me wondering, “what the heck am I doing with my life?” This is the first time in a long time where the general direction of where things are moving has felt unreservedly cloudy. This is not where you want to be at 40+ weeks of pregnancy.
Having a baby has not helped with this sense of unease. In fact, it’s made it worse. While Jacob and I are interested in exploring ways that would allow us to both be at home with our children (this job afforded this unique option), I’ve never felt drawn to being vocationally in the home. Impending childbearing has not changed that desire. Instead, I found myself in bed looking at the ceiling and wondering, am I becoming one of those people who just has a job so that I can pay my bills and hang out with my family on the weekend? Are we getting into patterns that are keeping us in a cycle of spending and debt? Is this how we begin taking jobs we hate because our “priorities change”?
I know these are hormone-charged, post-term thoughts. But they are also overwhelming and frightening. This is why it was grace for me to go back and read Stanley Hauerwas’ thoughts on childbearing. He provides a helpful reminder of the radical act that is bringing children into the world:
What we are about as Christians is the having of children. That must come first, and then we must subject other aspects of our lives to that reality. I am not suggesting that children become an end in themselves, but rather that children are the way we remember that it is God that matters, not making the world safe or rich….
My claim that the first task of the church is to be the church may, in other words, be exactly what is required if Christians are to be a people capable of bringing children into the world. Moreover, for the church to be a community capable of sustaining the having and care of children, we must also be a people who are not bent on the control of our economic destinies. No attitude is more destructive of children or the family than the presumption that the having of children is a zero-sum game. This is but a reminder that nothing is easier or harder to remember than that, when all is said and done, we must remember that children are a gift from God.
Lately, having a child hasn’t exactly felt like a radical act. It’s felt like something every one of our friends does – just the next phase in life. And as someone with an extreme aversion to the cult of the family in contemporary Christianity (e.g. don’t talk to me about being pro-life because you think babies are so sweet and cuddly) assigning meaning and purpose to this unintentioned pregnancy has been especially needed. Carving out that space has felt difficult. Knowing how to do this well feels difficult.
I don’t mean to sound like the cold motherhood grinch. I know that when baby Flo-Bix gets here I’ll be overjoyed and transformed. But I do hope that when the oxytocin haze dissipates, when the realities of economic destiny come flooding back with our hospital bill that our sustenance and joy will find its source in obedience to welcome the gift we did not expect. I pray we will be faithful to the task of building the church through training our child in Christ. Or that through her sickness, her disability and need that our child will train us to be Christians.
see previous post. add one week, 105 degrees, 20 hours of olympics watching, 6 two-hour naps.
When our friends the K-Js were getting ready to have their baby Jake, I would check their blog several times a day and be certain that the big event was happening when I didn’t hear anything for a few days. So in case any of you have this same nervous tick, I’m just updating you that nothing is happening in labor land. Baby and I continue to enjoy a mutually low committment relationship with the estimated due date now only ten days away…..
A post suggestion from co-worker Laura:
Yesterday I was eating lunch in the faculty dining room at my anonymous Catholic university in Oregon (hint: there’s only one). I was waiting for some friends to show up when I overheard a really wonderful conversation. At the table next to me there was a man with a Liberty University football shirt on and he was eating with a very, very old priest. I have no idea how they ended up together. The conversation started like this:
“Father, I just read this article about Catholics voting for Barack Obama. How do you feel about that? How can they do that when he is SO ADAMANTLY AGAINST LIFE!!!”
The priest, this sweet old Vatican I man responds by talking about “formation of the moral conscience” and “the necessity of viewing life within the broadest perspective that encompasses the poor, the sick and aged.”
Wow. I was pretty blown away. Not exactly what I expected to overhear. I was encouraged.
Welcome to the waiting game.
We’re holding fast at the Flo-Bix family into this week 38. In case you wanted to know all the graphic details, we found out yesterday from our midwife that things are moving along. Last week the baby’s head was at the -5 station, basically still floating around in the uterus. This week baby was at -2 station. According to our doula, some women start labor at -2. Hello! Here’s what that looks like:
So we’ve moved quite a bit. The other signs are not quite as promising. My cervix is still all the way back, 25% effaced but no dilation still. Apparently that’s the last thing to happen. And things can move quickly. Midwife Debra predicts a 7 pounder which is awesome.
Somethings I assumed would be true about this stage of late pregnancy which have not turned out to be:
1. That I would really, really want to get the baby out right now. Basically I am still perfectly content to be pregnant for a few more weeks. I thought I would be pulling my hair out by now. Instead I feel quite content to keep taking 2 hour afternoon naps, watch movies, spend time with the Jake, have visits from friends. I will NOT be happy if 41…..42…..43 weeks start rolling around. As such I have been trying to take some proactive steps towards moving this business along. I’ve had my second acupuncture appointment today. I’m taking evening primrose oil, going on long walks and drinking red raspberry leaf tea. But nothing too aggressive.
2. I would gain a ton of weight. I lost a pound last week to my utter shock. Turns out that your weight fluctuates a lot in this stage because of water retention. I
3. I would have contractions. Not a single one. Okay, maybe one but I’m starting to question that one. Everybody asks you this when you are 38 weeks pregnant and I always feel defeated when I have to say no. Our midwife tells us that people often go from no contractions to full blown labor, so I’m trying not to feel bad about my lack of Braxton-Hick-ness.
4. I would be hungry all the time. Turns out its harder to eat than ever. My organs have been squished out to the sides and my stomach in particular is getting the squeeze. Not too much room left in there.
So those are my observations. Just goes to show that every pregnancy is unique.
