I have been trying to get this down for posterity purposes for 2 weeks now.
Tucker was born on July 23rd at 9:47 at night after a very long day of labor - all natural! It went like this...
2:00 a.m.
We had gone to bed a bit late for us - around 11ish. I had been feeling "off" for most the day, and in the few days leading up to this momentous day, I had been drinking water like I was crossing the Sahara. I was drinking approximately 5 full water bottles a day. Each bottle was 27 oz... so.... 135 fl oz a day. Much more than you standard 8 to 10 glasses of water. Don't worry, I was using a Brita and a Kleen Kanteen.
Anyway, I woke up at 2:00 with a gasp. I vaulted out of bed and made for the bathroom, where I proceeded to lose what felt like a bucket full of amniotic fluid. Jon picked his head up off the pillow, having heard the commotion, and asked if I was okay. I said, "Honey, you aren't going to believe this!"
3 weeks early.
And, oh, an hour before Jon was supposed to get up to get ready to fly to Ohio for the day for an interview. Yeah.
Unlike the typical movie scene, we calmly called the doctor (while I was still on the toilet draining), who told us to go to the hospital, even though contractions had not really started. We gathered up our stuff (I had typed a list and attached it to the front door so that we knew we had everything), and we made our way.
I sat on a big fluffy towel, which was a good thing, because HOLY COW WAS THERE A LOT OF WATER!
I had polyhydramnios due to gestational diabetes during my pregnancy. I may have mentioned it before... but while a normal person as pregnant as I was would measure 14 cm of fluid... I was measuring in the 30s. Double the water. Awesome! It was the reason I was so darn big and the reason he was able to kick me and move so much. And, it was the reason that when I walked into the ER, my pants were totally and absolutely soaked.
3:30 a.m.
We get to the ER and they ask how they can help us. I tell them that my water broke. They (as usual) ask why I think that. I laughed and said, "Well, my pants are soaked, and I am pretty sure I did not pee on them." They looked over the desk and down at me and were like Yep, let's get you upstairs.
At this point in time, I had had some contractions, but they were incredibly mild. I am used to lower abdominal pain due to IBS and endometriosis. No big.
Once we got up to maternity, they did an internal exam and said I was 2 cm and 80% effaced. Not super awesome. They monitored me for an hour, then took me off and told me to walk around for an hour. Jon and I paced the hallways and I tried not to leave a trail of amniotic fluid in my wake.
I was hooked up for another hour, then taken off again. During this transition, I did flood the bed. Literally. Like, set up a Gallagher-esque splash zone in the close seats. I was mostly amazed at the shear volume of it. I mean, I knew I had a lot in there, but this was ridiculous.
At this point, I decided to stay in the room and pace since my contractions were getting a little more contract-y.
7:00 a.m.?
My mom was here by this point and my brother showed up. As I said, I stayed in the room trying various positions - squatting, rocking, standing, sitting, etc. However, nothing was helping the back labor that was setting in.
Apparently back labor is more a function of hormones than actual muscle contractions. Normal contractions start in the low abdomen and spread outwards towards the back. That was definitely happening, and then I would get a short break. However, my back was in constant pain. Nothing relieved that. Some say pressure does, but I really did not want anyone touching me whatsoever.
Things were slow-going, and I remember the sun coming up, the shift change, the new doctor coming in.... I was starting to get hyper-focused on what I was doing.
Meanwhile, Jon's parents, who had been in Maine, left there around 6 or 7 a.m. because they wanted to be here for his birth.
10:00 a.m.?
I got another internal exam and was really dismayed to hear that I was "now in labor". WTF had I been doing for the past 8 hours then?! Apparently you are not really in labor until you are 4 cm. So there I was, 4 cm, and 100% effaced. Yay me but holy cow it had taken a long time to get there.
At this point, I was bed-ridden.
And then began the time warp.
Honestly, I knew time was passing, but I had no idea how fast or how slow. In retrospect, the day went very quickly for me. At some point, I took off my glasses and I had my eyes closed most of the day. I breathed through my contractions (thank you yoga!!!!!) and Jon fed me ice chips.
I did not eat the whole day, but I had no desire to. As time progressed, I could say little but "ice" and "music". We had the Pandora White Noise radio station on, which was good, because I had already practiced relaxing to the music, I had no idea how long the songs were (so I could not mark time), and it helped me calm down.
Jon said that several people were in labor, and their contractions were all shown on the same monitor, but I was the only one with regular measurable contractions. All. Day. Long.
Maybe around noon or 1, I was hyperventilating when I was breathing. I think it is because of singing. While I have great breath control, I am used to taking a quick breath and then exhaling forever in a controlled manner. Apparently I was exhaling much much more than I was taking in. I told them that my face, chest, upper arms, and hands were tingly. They suggested an oxygen mask and I had that on the rest of the day. Which gave me an awesome pimple on my chin which no one popped for me. Ahh well. There were much more unsightly things going on elsewhere...
It really did not take all that long to get from 4 to 9.5 cm, and my best guess is that I was there by...
3:45 p.m.?
I got stuck. Stuck at 9.5 cm. They waited and waited and checked and I was not making progress. I had a small lip of cervix left that simply was not going away. Time was zooming by for me.
At some point in the afternoon, my in-laws arrived. They came to the room and the nurse cheerily told me I had visitors. I opened my eyes and was like "NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Yeah, sorry mother-in-law, father-in-law, I am not interested in you walking in while I am completely spread-eagle dripping blood and amniotic fluid all over the place and, btw, feel like checking out my hemorrhoids and how long it has been since I trimmed down there?
I felt bad for Jon, because he did not get to see them much, and they hung out the the waiting room the rest of the time after driving like crazy to get down. But, yeah, I am not sure that is a sight you can erase from your mind once you have seen it. My family, on the other hand, is really close, and we talk about bodily stuff all the time. I am pretty sure I will never even burp in front of my in-laws.
5:45 p.m.
They asked me if I felt like pushing. I had no idea. I did not really feel like pushing. My contractions were coming pretty fast and furious to try to get that last bit open. Usually that final phase of labor, the contractions slow a bit. I was not really there yet. But they thought maybe me pushing would help with that last bit. So I started.
It is strange, but no one tells you *how* to push. It is sort of a trial and error. It is worth noting though that if you are pooping... you are doing it right. I know, ew, and I could feel it squeezing out like ketchup out of a little packet. But that is when you are engaging the right muscles. And you are supposed to relax the rest of your body - again, very hard, especially if you are not used to isolating your muscle groups, which I am totally not.
After maybe an hour or so of that, they decided to stick their hands up there and physically push the lip over his head. OW. There are few times where I remember wailing in sheer pain, but that was one of them.
And then we really began to push.
7:00 p.m.
Shift change.
Nothing is so depressing as knowing you are on your third shift change and you are still in labor. I highly highly recommend that anyone in labor find a way to be completely ignorant of the time. It is incredibly discouraging because you start to wonder what you are doing wrong that your baby is not out yet. Especially when you hear so many stories of 6 hour labors or 7 hour labors... or, I just pushed for a few minutes and he was out... because I was still pushing.
My nurse this time though was awesome and she came in full of energy and with a plethora of ideas on positions and things like that. Again, I tried squatting, I tried leaning backwards over the bed, I tried other handle bars. The problem was the back labor. That was not going away, and it was pretty excruciating.
However, they were all well-aware that this was a natural childbirth, and they were so supportive. Even though I had my eyes closed, I was very aware of the encouraging voices of Jon, my mom, Chris, even my dad stayed the whole time, and, of course, the nurses.
8:30 p.m.
The doctor came in and laid it straight: "I give you a 50/50 chance of pushing him out. Most first borns are about 2 hours of pushing, you are coming up on 3." She asked if I wanted a c-section. I told her give me 15 more minutes. She went off to prepare or discuss or whatever. I kept pushing.
She came back, I guess, and asked what I wanted. I told her the c-section, that I wanted him out.
She went away again to prepare... but in the meantime, I had not given up. They told me to sit back and relax (HA HA HA!!!!) and that they would do the surgery. But I was like well, if I am having contractions, I sure as heck am going to push through them. It *does* actually help you feel better to push.
Meanwhile, my mom and brother had been taking turns holding one leg. Jon was holding the other. Dad was in the corner out of the sight line. :)
The doc came back in and I am only guessing that once she saw me still pushing, and that I had not given up, she had some ideas on what to do. She first catheterized me to empty my bladder because someone finally realized that while I had fluid pouring out of me all day, it was not pee, and I had been on a saline drip for most of the afternoon.
BTW, being catheterized is so not cool. However, my bladder was apparently very very full, so that helped.
After that, she vacuumed me. Or, rather, she vacuumed Tucker. I am pretty sure my eyes almost bulged out of my sockets when she did that, but down he came. Now we were making progress.
Some time after that, she gave me a first degree (1cm) episiotomy. I had to laugh (on the inside) because she was like oh, this is going to sting like a bee. I was like um, you know what I have been doing all afternoon? You could throw a yellow jacket nest on my head and I am pretty sure it would be nothing comparatively.
In fact, most of the afternoon, that stupid line from Roadhouse kept popping into my head... "Pain don't hurt". And truly, it is a mental game. A sting, a pinch, a cramp, you can work through them. With a contraction, you know it is going to end. Back labor never ends though, and that was the hardest part. There was no relief there. But the contractions... I could mentally play that game. I knew it would end. I knew we were coming to an end. I knew he would be out soon.
9:00 - 9:47 p.m.
I pushed. My mom kept whispering to me to bear down. She was the only one out of my other "coaches" (Jon and Chris), that knew what I was feeling, so it was helpful to hear her voice.
Jon was amazing through the entire day. He kept offering me ice and telling me to relax. He thought I was going to bite his head off since he kept telling me the same things over and over - to relax through it, to control my breath. And he had to tell me every time, because I needed it! I would hear what he was saying and do it. It is easy to get carried away with what is happening to your body, so it was awesome to have someone there reminding me every time not to. I never ever got annoyed with him the whole day, which even surprised me. :) I just did not want to be rubbed or touched. I sort of knew that would happen, so he was forewarned ahead of time. When I feel like that, I do not under any circumstances want to be rubbed or caressed. No freaking way.
Towards the end, my brother even got into the act telling me I was doing a good job and that he could see the head. Chris really was not intending to be that involved, but my mom was not physically strong enough to hold my leg that much (being a coach is intensely physical... Jon almost passed out at one point from locking his legs/not eating/being exhausted). Even my brother, who is generally a pretty big strong dude, his arms were shaking from holding my leg.
At this point, there were like 9 staff in the room with us also. They called 3 or 4 people from NICU in due to the prolonged rupture (my water being broken so long), and because I had been pushing for so long, and because I had gestational diabetes. There was the nurse I knew who was mine, who was also really encouraging, and my doc, also encouraging.
Funny enough, I got the doctor I did not want delivering me. But she was phenomenally supportive. She was the one who really made the call to keep going, keep trying, once she saw how I was responding. I am really glad she did.
My family said that all of the staff were amazed that I was doing it naturally... and that I had been doing it for so long and that I must have a high pain tolerance. I always suspected that I did, but I guess that has been confirmed.
Finally, finally, he came out. The cord was around his neck, and he did not do the stereotypical scream... but honestly I was not worried. I knew in my heart that he was fine. The NICU team swooped him up. They took the cord blood to get it banked. Jon cut the rest. Meanwhile, I suddenly came back to life. After doing little but moaning and sucking down oxygen with my eyes closed all day, I was alive, alert, awake, and enthusiastic.
They told me, "He is here!", and my brother and mom swear that I responded, "It is about f-ing time". Jon and I maintain I said "freaking" but it was obscured by the oxygen. I also said, "He might be an only child".
While they were tending to Tuck, I had to push out the placenta (which kinda came out with one push and some not so pleasant abdominal massage). My doc told me again that I was going to feel bee stings as she sewed me up. Laughable.
They asked me if I wanted drugs, and I took one anaproxin, which is sort of like a super-strength advil. I did not want the tylenol with codeine because tylenol hurts my stomach.
After they sewed up the massacre that was down there, I let everyone hold him before I did. I just was not quite ready yet. But it was cool to see him in real life, and we tried getting him to breast feed because he was SUPER ALERT and ready to suck.
The in-laws came in and held him. My dad held him. Chris and my mom held him... and of course Jon did.
They say that when you hold your child for the first time, it is love at first sight. I don't know if I felt that way, to be honest. It was more like, damn, look what I just did, I am a freaking rock star.
Because they were so impressed with me, they actually gave me a labor and delivery suite instead of making me share a maternity room with other moms. That was super awesome and restful, though that first night I spent quite a bit of it awake with back pain (still).
They brought the kiddo in every few hours to eat, though he was nameless at the time, and I had really no milk to speak of. Word to the wise... anaproxin apparently prevents your milk from coming in as fast, so think twice before taking it!
It took us until Wednesday to decide on his name. Even though we had been calling him Tucker for months, we were not sure that was really what we were going to name him. Even now it seems surprising that we did. I look at him and think, huh, is that really your name? But it is, it is.
The hospital time was good. On the second day I took codiene (no tylenol) and that knocked me OUT, so I got some rest and it helped my back a ton. I also was peeing like a freaking race horse. Who knew my bladder could hold so much?! Fluid just kept pouring and pouring out of me.
On Wednesday, I was pain killer free and we went home. :)
In the time since, it has been tough. Good, but tough. What they say is true - you have no idea how hard it is going to be. It really is. My hormones have been on a swinging pendulum. It took 3 or 4 days and then I woke up and suddenly had ankles again because it took awhile for the fluid to drain. I am still a bit swollen and tender down there. My stitches still sting a bit. Recovery is not bad though, and I have to attribute that to natural childbirth.
When you have a baby naturally, you do not push your body further than it is supposed to go. I never pushed *too hard*. Yes, I started to tear a bit, but just a bit. Like I said, after he came out, I was good to go. My family joked that it is a leftover from caveman days when you had to jump up and run off with your baby so that a cheetah did not eat you. :) Recovery has been fast, in my estimation, because I listened to my body the entire day. I used natural coping methods that our bodies are programmed to use.
Every nurse who attended me during my stay told me how impressed they were that I had him naturally. Only about 5% have natural deliveries there. Nation-wide, I found out later, only about 15% do. I can see why. The pain is intimidating. If you have a low tolerance, I suppose it could be difficult. If you do not have a strong support system and a strong mindset, it would be near impossible to keep going. Heck, I wanted the c-section when they marked the time for me. But we kept going. If I can do it, anyone can, I think.
Despite the fact that I said he might be an only child.... by day 2, I had forgotten all the pain. Those crazy hormones, doing their job to propagate the species! But honestly, I could not tell you what it felt like now. I know it hurt. I know it took forever. I know there were times I almost threw up and almost passed out. I know I moaned like a crazy woman. But, it is gone. And I know I will do it again for our next child... though that will definitely be awhile from now. :)
Overall, I had a really great birth experience. I am absolutely madly in love with my husband, who I could not have done it without. I am much closer to my family because of it. Tucker is a gift from God and the sweetest imp I could imagine. Having a child was a good choice. Having a child naturally was a good choice. It really worked out well, and I am incredibly blessed and thankful.
That being said... it is about time to feed the little guy.
I have a lot more thoughts on the past 2 weeks and how they have gone. Things are getting better though, they really are, and I am looking forward to a long future with our son.
Our son.
:)
