Let me write this down, before it's a smattering of random moments in my memory.
Before I begin, please indulge me a moment. I have experienced in my short time as a mother the tension among stay-at-home Mom's and working Mom's. We dance around the tulips when this issue comes up. Being a parent, no matter if you devote 100% of your time to it, or if you are juggling the load of a 40-50 hour work week and taking care of your kids - parenting is hard work. Stay at home parents struggle with isolation, monotony, self worth as it relates to "productivity", etc. Working parents struggle with guilt, lack of time, separation, juggling work and home, etc. As I see it, it's not easy on either side. What does this have to do with me having a baby you ask? Well, I sense the same tension when it comes to natural childbirth vs. childbirth with interventions (i.e. epidurals and the rest of the lot). I want to make it clear that I have no judgment WHAT-SO-EVER for women who opt for an epidural, inductions, elective c-sections, etc. We make decisions based on many, many reasons...and let's face it, childbirth hurts like a...well, you get my point, so why not get an epidural!? I also know that many women have not had satisfying experiences with natural childbirth, or with their midwife. I share this because I've experienced some criticism by a few people in my life for my decision to use a midwife and attempt a natural childbirth. All this said - do what floats your boat. This is your experience and the beginning of your family. OK - put soap box away.
I really struggled when we arrived in Richmond because of my experience at a birth center in Tucson, and realizing that there was not this option here. I talked with 2 home birth midwives, who due to their different kinds of licensure (Certified Professional Midwife vs. a Certified Nurse Midwife), had different legal restrictions on their practice. The other issue we encountered was insurance, and insurance covered very little if you had a home birth here, particularly with a CPM. There are a number of hospitals in the City, but many of them had a high c-section rate. We decided to go with the Medical College of Virginia, where they had a team of 3 midwives that practiced in a hospital setting. I went to the appointments incredibly anxious, but found that I loved 2 out of 3 of the midwives. They got it. They got me. They knew I was more afraid of what a medical institution would or would not allow me to do, than I was afraid of childbirth itself. When I heard Midwife Meaghan say, "a childbirth that we don't touch is the safest childbirth of all", I was immediately put at ease. Call me controlling, call me nuts - I don't care. This experience meant to much to me and I have high expectations of those who are there to support me.
So it began. I was 3cm dilated at my 39 week appointment - 6 days later (Halloween eve), I started having decent Braxton Hicks contractions while trick-or-treating with Ada. At 9pm that night, after getting Ada down, my Step-Dad took me on a late night walk through the neighborhood so that I could keep the contractions going.
At 6:20am on November 1st I woke up with serious contractions, 15 minutes apart. By 9:00am they were 10 minutes apart. I just knew it was happening. As I did with Ada, I baked a birthday cake, which also served to celebrate my Step-Dad's 65th birthday which was on 11/1. Again, I just knew that I was going to have a baby to share his birthday as well, which would have been nice (we later celebrated at dinner and baby Q got to enjoy the cake via me!).
My water broke (partially) during one of many, many walks with Sam through our neighborhood that day. The contractions ebbed and flowed, which was frustrating. They were so inconsistent. I called the midwife on duty and told her my water broke and that my contractions were wacky. She encouraged me to rest and wait it out a bit longer. I took a nap during lunch-time, upon which my contractions ceased. They picked back up again later that afternoon and throughout the evening. At 1:00am on 11/2, my contractions were 5 minutes apart. I labored in the shower for a good hour with horrendous back pain, certain I was keeping everyone in the house up. At 2:00am I called the midwife. The one I really liked was on-call, and she suggested that I labor a bit longer at home until things started to get more serious. At 3:00am when I really had woken up the entire house, including Ada who drug all of her blankets out into the living room b/c she was "tired", I decided it was time to go in. Ada gave me many hugs and pats on my back and face as we prepped to leave (sweet thing).
Sam, my Mom and I loaded up the car and headed to the hospital, certain we were going to have a baby soon. My midwife, Meaghan, checked me at 4:00am and I was 7cm dilated. We all thought he would come around 6 or 7am.
Careful about those expectations you have. I have learned my lesson.
2 hours later I was at 9 centimeters and stayed that way for over 5 1/2 hours.
Let's see - I sat on the birthing ball, got in the shower again, walked, swayed with Sam, did lunges, used a nursing pump (yep, that's right); I was in every position, including practically standing on my head to move myself from 9 to 10 centimeters. I literally begged God for mercy in between the guttural noises that I make when coping with the pain of labor. I broke down crying when the back labor was more than I could bear. I watched my Mom and Sam get emotional, have to sit down or leave the room just to cope with watching me (or maybe it had to do with some of the language coming out of my mouth?). Hey - having babies isn't pretty!
Upon realizing that baby Q was in the sunny-side-up, or the
Occiput Posterior position (hence the inconsistent contractions and painful back labor), Meaghan suggested that I go on a Pitocen drip to move me to 10cm. I agreed. It didn't help. Baby Q had to be manually turned the other way, or he would not come out. She suggested a wonderful physician who had a good track record at getting babies to turn. I heard what she had to do, and knew that I would not be able to tolerate the pain at this point in my labor. I reluctantly accepted an epidural, which I do not regret, but I am disappointed that I needed. It didn't work either. Well, that's not fair - I had a good hour of pain-free labor, which I was immensely grateful for. After an hour or so the physician was ready to manually turn him. She could feel him fight her. I could feel him fight her. The noises I previously made were again, to cope with the pain. The noises I made at this point were BECAUSE I was in pain. She turned him. He turned back over. We then learned that the epidural was pooling on the right-hand side of my body. I was numb just below my collar bone on the right side, and just above my belly button on the left side where I felt tremendous pain. They had to turn me on my left side to get the drug to move that way, but this was the wrong position to be in for baby Q to turn. The anesthesiologist was not pleased. He suggested that they remove the epidural and replace it, explaining that if I had to have a c-section that they could not administer it with only one side properly numbed. I agreed. My Mom and Sam told me later that everyone in the room had a "we don't know what to do" look on their faces- they knew I was headed to surgery to have a c-section if the second epidural didn't work. On some level I knew this as well.
While on my left side I started to get the shakes. My teeth were chattering and my arms were involuntarily shivering. I think it had something to do with my hormone levels???? (Nurse Hodges, if you're reading this...explanation please?). I also started to feel pressure - you know, the "I'm about to have a baby" pressure. During all this talk about epidurals, and managing pain before turning him, and forceps and c-sections I started to feel pressure. The epidural also started to numb my left side. While they were prepping for the epidural, my midwife and amazing nurse, Tyler were looking, and talking and eye-balling each other. Meaghan put the skids on everything and the party of medical staff in the room seemed to disappear. She checked me. She then asked, "are you ready to have this baby?" Sam and I broke down crying!
Because the epidural finally decided to work, I could not feel the contractions, and had to be told when to push. I am sad about this part of our experience, but am grateful that I was supported and encouraged by the most amazing group of people I could have ever asked for...Sam, my Mom, Meaghan, Tyler, and the wonderful physician who did her best to turn our little man. Meaghan invited me to reach down and feel his head; I think she knew that I needed that. Sam and I chose the right place to have our baby, and we were lucky enough to get Meaghan that night.
I am so proud of the hard work we put in to bringing this wonderful boy into the world. I learned so much from this experience. I have such a different perspective now than I had when going in. I learned that I am good at having babies - I am strong, stubborn and confident during labor (and I'm thinking baby Q may have a streak of my stubbornness as well). I also learned that I never want to do it again :) It was wonderful to hear from our nurses and the midwife that Sam and I were a "good team", and that they loved my noises, that I was "the talk of the floor", and that I was among the "toughest" patients they had worked with! Again with the expectations. Their support exceeded mine.
I am also grateful and proud that I got to share the experience with my Mom - that she was able to witness his birth, and me doing what I do best. I am grateful that she reminded me of my "curly-headed kid" at home when I was at that point in labor when you want to give up; reminding me that getting another wonderful kid was worth the hard work! Who knew that thinking about Ada's wild hair would be the help I needed to focus! I am grateful for my Step-Dad who walked with me, and for Ada who knew on some level that her Mom needed comforting. I am grateful for Sam who once again worked very hard to support me. We are a good team and can be proud of 2 incredible birth experiences together.
The difficult work came following his birth during our postpartum care at the hospital. No rest for the weary in a hospital. I sent Sam and my Mom home that night. I then told the staff that I would be released the next day. State law in VA requires a 24-hour stay, so I agreed to that, even though their routine is a 48-hour stay (did I mention I am stubborn?). I wanted to be home where I could be with my baby and the support of my family. The postpartum care was everything I dislike about a medical institution. They poked and prodded at both of us about every 1/2 hour. They stuck him, tested him, injected me, schooled me on some breast feeding apparatus by waking me at 4:00am after 2 days of labor only to have the lactation consultant tell me not to use it 6 hours later (!!!!!!) - they insisted that I eat, but not give me the time to do it, insisted that I breast feed every 2 hours, but not give us the peace and quiet to do it. When we actually had 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep, a pediatrician came in an snidely commented that "maybe" I could feed my baby. I was over it when the lactation consultant and pediatrician simultaneously paid us a visit. Both of them questioning me while she hooked me up to pumps, and again, poked and prodded and squeezed. They finally left and I cried. I was released after 27 hours. I had a very difficult time bonding with baby Q in those first few days, and I believe the postpartum care influenced this. We've had more poking and prodding as a result of his bilirubin levels, but as Sam and I suspected and knew in our gut, he was not seriously jaundiced, and the home visit by the nurse unnecessary. They have finally left us alone. I know they gave us incredible, top-notch care, but I was genuinely overwhelmed. I know we were lucky and blessed to receive the medical care they offered, but I had a need to run off with my baby and just be with him and my family.
We are now 2 peas in a pod. Nursing, co-sleeping, wearing him around, singing to him, smelling him, bathing him - all of those sweet things you get to do with a newborn - they are the cure. I look at him and melt. I watch Ada pat his head, kiss his face, hold him or his hand and I melt.
We have a boy that we worked really hard to get.
We have a boy and he is perfect.
I am very proud of us - we have exceeded my expectations.
Somebody wriggled her entire body into one of my pant legs and then flopped around like a mermaid
Enjoying our Christmas snow, her new boots and new hat/mittens (thanks Santa, thanks Mel & Eric).
