The first birth is always a mystery; no matter how many classes taken or books read; the unknown is powerful. I wanted to have an unmedicated low intervention birth - as most women plan on. On Tuesday, I went in for a vag exam and discovered I was already at 4 cm. The doc said - and I remember exactly - "See you tonight!" I knew it might not happen that night; but I was under the impression it would be in the next day or so. So, when I woke up Wednesday morning still pregnant; I wasn't too concerned. But I stayed home from work; puttering around the house making things ready. On Thursday, when I woke still pregnant, I was a bit miffed, mostly at my own body, for not complying with the doctor's prediction. The day wore on, at home, and I became more and more grumpy and frustrated. On Friday, I was so pissed that I was still pregnant, that I went to work. I ended up standing in line at the city planning desk for over an hour. I'm not sure what I was thinking, going to work that day; but I felt a bit guilty 'lounging around' at home when work needed to be finished. As I packed up my things to head home, I decided to make one last trip to the grocery store before the baby was born; like preparing for a long winter. I walked into my husband's office, stuck my wagging finger in his face and said, " I'm going to the grocery store now. I want you home when I get home. I don't want to walk in to an empty house." He didn't know what to think of me, but answered quickly with, "Ok, sure. Whatever you need." This was unusal behavior for me. I'm usually up, happy, almost goofy at times. As I walked down the hall away from his office I wasn't quite sure where that all came from. I headed to the grocery store, bought entirely too many things. I always take my own groceries to the car, no matter the size of the load; but this day when asked if I wanted help out, I responded with an emphatic, 'Yes. I think I would.' The pimply-faced youth who pushed the cart was just trying to be cheery - I'm sure he was mortified to be walking next to such a hugely pregnant woman - he asked when the baby was due. I stared him down - certainly not like me - and answered: "7 o'clock". The poor teen shoveled my groceries into my car so fast that they were not in the bags anymore. He hurriedly and ran back to the store. I was grumpy, miffed and put out that now I had to sort through my own groceries, strewn all over the car, just to get them in the house.
I'll bet you can guess what happened next. Yep; my water broke. Oh happy day! I was finally thinking that my body would actually do this and was ready to get down to business. After getting all the groceries in from the car and trying not to pay attention to the absence of uterine contractions, my dear hubby arrived. He reported that he tried to get home before I got there; but got caught in the hallway talking to his boss. I was unaffected by him not being home when I got there. I think I actually forgot about my earlier demand. I reported my new findings - amniotic fluid - and we proceeded with the things we were supposed to do: eat a light meal, move our overnight bags into the car - yes, they were already packed with extra toothbrushes, hair dryer, deoderant - so no daily supplies were needed to be gathered from the bathroom counter to make the trip to the hospital.
Contractions finally showed up a few hours later and we were good students and did our breathing with each one. We headed to bed for a fitful effort in sleeping, as I woke up for each contraction. By 3 or 4 am, contractions were getting a tad unbearable. I panicked a bit, dug out all the books I had been reading; laid them all out on the kitchen counter and looked up in each table of contents and index for the word, 'pain'. I was not finding what I wanted - it certainly wasn't in any book. and after a few more intense contractions, we decided to head out to the hospital. Upon arrival, my first exam revealed that I was dilated to 4 cm. Now, how can that be?, I remember thinking. After all those hours and pain how can my cervix not have changed at all. But before I could think much past that, here came another big contraction. We labored together for a few more hours. I realized I needed some inspiration to continue so I asked my hubby to take me to see the newborn nursery. We walked a short distance down the hall and peered through the glass. Oh good grief, I thought, why in the world would they put the 3 month olds all here in the delivery wing. I thought all the babies' heads were too big to be newborns! A few more tough contractions sent us back to our room. At this point I was beginning to lose any composure that I thought I had earlier. I was most certainly experienceing transition and demanded that I couldn't do it anymore and that I needed something for the pain. Our nurse just looked at me, I swear she patted me on the head, and said, "Oh honey, just keep doing what you're doing, you'll be fine." There was a small part of me that wanted to smack her; but the part of me with no sefl-confidence said to myself, "Well, she sees this everyday; I guess I'm doing OK". Well, I didn't feel OK. Somehow we got through the next contractions. When the nurse did a vag exam, she announced that I was complete and could push whenever I felt like it. Well, all I understood at that point - and you have to remember; there's no blood circulation to the educated brain at this point - it's all in the uterus, where it should be. So, my head told me there was somethig wrong with me because I didn't have any feeling to push. So I announced it. The nurse quieted me and told me the baby would come out whether I pushed or not. Well, I was sure relieved about that! However, it had been Friday the 13th only a few hours before and I didn't want to have a baby on Friday the 13th - fine time to think about that! I looked at my watch to make sure it was after midnight; when, in fact, it was 7 am and the sun was streaming in the windows! As I pushed, and rested, pushed and rested, the doc was on his rolling doctor stool, just waiting... To make some small talk as we all waited for the next contraction, he asked my husband if he was enjoying tennis. My husband engaged into a long conversation, as I recall, about tennis. Now this was pretty funny since he doesn't PLAY tennis... Some contractions later, I noticed that there was a hanging plant in the corner of the room, but it was in poor shape. I became philosophical, naked and knees up, and announced to the room that 'this was a poor place for a dead plant since this room sees new life everyday'.
So, I pushed. 3 or 4 pushes per contractions... for 2 hours. Finally, the baby's head was close, the doctor was near and the contractions were progressing as programmed. I touched my baby's head as he began to emerge. His head was born after a 3-snipper epis; snip! snip! snip! (I didn't know I had so much tissue there!) The doctor then commanded me to 'sit up here and pull your baby out!'. Well, I thought he was kidding. I couldn't even tie my shoes anymore with my big belly; how in the world could I sit up from this reclined position and reach anything above my feet. Well, I looked down and there was the doc's hand, waiting to help me lunge forward. He helped me up, I reached down, squished my first two fingers under my baby's armpits ( his shoulders were out, but his hands were still inside) and hoisted him up to my belly. Wow. I didn't even know I could DO that; much less that I actually WANTED to do that. But it turns out I could and I did. Our child was born! Wahoo! and somehow I made it through with no drugs, no epidural, and only a few minutes of external fetal monitoring. Oh, yes, but don't forget the 3-snipper episiotomy... but that's another story.
Birth stories are important to share, to remember and to treasure. You will find a woman will remember her birth stories to the very smallest detail; including colors, times, specific things people say and do in the hours surrounding birth. Share your story. Young women need to hear it, to feel your emotions, to see that birth hasn't changed much - only what those surrounding us do...
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