For about a week or so I've been having pre-labor. It was not painful and it only happened when I walked. I expected it to be like contractions, but it wasn't - it was like the feeling of the "urge to push" except it was barely noticeble. If I wasn't looking for it I would have missed it.
I had an appointment with a midwife at the birth center in the morning. My husband went with me to see where it was because he was hoping I would have the kid that weekend. I finally got to meet the “head midwife” – most of my other appointments were with one of the younger women there (who, strangely enough, turned out to be on call for my birth). I refused a vaginal check, like I’ve been refusing them throughout my last trimester, mostly because I was paranoid that if my water broke too early, the vaginal checks would have introduced a risk of infection.
My husband took a day off work and we went to have lunch. At 1pm I shifted in my seat (in the restaurant) and felt something leaking. I went to the bathroom and my waters just leaked and leaked – I soaked my dress, the floor, and all the pads I had with me and had to content myself with a bunch of toilet paper for the ride home. I got crumpy contractions right away, and set myself up on the living room floor, figuring it would be hours before anything happened and I would watch a couple of movies.
By 2:30pm they were strong enough and close enough together that I couldn’t enjoy the movie any longer, so I had my husband time them for me. They were lasting 30-40 seconds and came 3-5 minutes apart. I was also feeling the baby’s head on my tailbone. My husband started saying how the birth center was an hour drive away and how if we didn’t leave by 4pm we’d be stuck in Friday rush hour traffic, so I called the birth center to see what they thought, but the head midwife was busy and they told me she’d call me back. Meanwhile I started packing a bag and at 4pm I forwarded my home calls to go to my cell phone and we left.
On the bumpy ride to the birth center the pressure on my tailbone was worse than the contractions. We got there and got “admitted” between 5:30 and 6pm. The midwife I met that morning checked me, told me that I was completely effaced and that my bag of waters had been broken, but that I was only 1cm and should go have lunch and come back later. I said I would try to take a nap instead and she and the nurse left.
I actually did try laying down on my side for a nap (I didn’t get much sleep the night before), but I soon realized that my contractions were getting more serious and were easier if I was on my knees, leaning on a birthing ball. It felt even better sitting on the toilet with a pillow behind me, but then after a few contractions I would feel pressure on my back, and I was worried that when I leaned back onto the pillow during contractions I was letting the kid turn "posterior" (her back towards mine) and that the uncomfortable pressure I was feeling might be "back labor" – so I alternated between the ball and the toilet. I tried different patterns of breathing, and none of them was that helpful, but I discovered that if I moaned a certain way, it made the contractions more bearable. My husband, the nurse and the midwife all tried asking me if I needed anything and sympathizing with me, but I didn’t want neither company nor sympathy (I especially didn’t want my “suffering” mentioned in any way) – I wanted a dark, quiet place where I’d be left alone. I got what I wanted.
After some time I realized I was pushing. Meanwhile the nurse that was leaving at 7pm went home and another young woman came in to replace her. She suggested that I try blowing instead of pushing until the midwife could check me to see if I was fully dilated. I was OK with that – I would have done it myself if I had thought of it. The midwife checked me a little later and said I was fully dilated and if I could move to the bed from the toilet. I tried being on the bed with the ball, but that felt wrong, so they set up one of those metal rod birthing stools for me and I spent the rest of my labor squatting on that.
As I was pushing, I was thinking that my butt was really going to hurt afterwards (I was right). Once the baby moved down, pushing started to feel good, but I knew I was getting very tired (pushing is a lot of work!). The nurse kept checking baby’s heart beat with the Doppler after every contraction and it remained steady throughout the whole thing. (I had actually insisted on a fetal scope at all my checkup visits, so they were pretty happy to be using the Doppler for the birth). Finally the whole head was in my vagina and the younger midwife was trying to help me stretch, and putting some oil there. Maybe if I had stopped pushing and we waited I would have stretched more, but at that point I was going on adrenaline (or whatever) alone and I knew I wasn’t going to last. The “head midwife” came in and pushed everything over the kid’s head. I don’t know if that was when I tore or if I would have torn anyway. After that, the rest of my kid came out right away. I said “don’t cut the cord” a whole bunch of times. They handed me the baby and asked me to announce the gender. I didn’t have the strength to hold her, so I lay down and they put her on my stomach. She couldn’t reach my breasts because of the cord.
I had spent some time preparing my husband for a bruised, purple cone-head, but the baby was pink and round-headed – all 9 pounds 2 ounces of her. I was completely exhausted, shaking and shivering, so I said it was OK to cut the cord. They asked my husband if he wanted to do it (he did) and then afterwards the "head midwife" pushed on my uterus to make me contract and deliver the placenta, which (she said) was sitting in my vagina. I had origionally planned to wait and deliver the placenta myself, mostly because I read that there was a chance that pushing on the uterus may cause me to hemorrhage. But at the moment I just wanted it all to be over. I did lose quite a lot of blood, but I don't know if the blood was already pooling behind the placenta or if the midwife pushing on my uterus had caused the extra bleeding. I did feel a bit better once the placenta was out and the contractions mostly stopped. They stitched me up and gave me some ice in gloves and I lay under three blankets and shivered.
Because of her birth weight, my daughter had to be tested for diabetes. I started refusing the test at first, but then agreed because it seemed like a good idea and I didn’t want to cause any legal problems. The test amounted to my daughter’s heel getting cut and a drop of blood squeezed onto a tester. This was repeated three times (every three hours). I was quite apprehensive but she didn’t appear to mind too much. The PKU test 4 days later was another story. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over the unbearable eternity of my brand new daughter screaming in pain while her foot was continuously squeezed for blood to fill back and front of four circles on that piece of paper.
Things I have learned:
- I was right about how I'd behave during the birth
- I was right about most of the things I thought would be important to me
- I thought that keeping the cord intact for at least two hours was very important to me but it turned out I didn't care too much at the moment
- Moaning really helps
- Stitches "down there" really hurt - for days and days after the birth
- Being responsible for the well being of a brand new baby is incredibly scary
