Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Luke's Birth Story

So there we sat, my husband and I, in a field of poppies under the waning moon, when suddenly my water broke in a delicious gush. Delighted, we cuddled close until my rushes began. Smooth and effortless went my labor, with rushes coming on with more intensity - never pain - culminating in gentle pushes that brought my son into the world. Our midwife arrived at the field in time to catch our little one, while the doula wove a daisy chain for my hair. Then we all snacked on my placenta and danced a reel as the morning star rose in the sky.


If you wish to keep that picture of natural birth - maybe minus the placenta eating - in your head, then you are welcome to do so. If you want to read the details of Luciano's actual birth, read on.
Trigger Warnings: contractions, pain, vomit, screaming (there's good stuff too, but that's at the end).


12:30pm
So things actually begin with my water breaking, which surprises me because this"opening scene" for labor is statistically rather rare. Though looking at my other birth experiences, I should know that I tend to fall outside the norm. I didn't go off like a cannon or anything, just some gushes and trickles of clear fluid that were interesting enough to inform my midwife and husband about.

1pm
I take a walk with my mom and son to see if we can get some contractions going. My mom wanted to stick close to home, but I end up tricking her to walk farther and farther away with me. I want to sneak in one last "workout" before game time. Plus the weather is so amazing I just want to soak it in. 

2 - 4pm
Hanging out at home, getting things ready, some light contractions start with no definite pattern. My mom and I go to Whole Foods, where I have a "last meal" of sushi - salmon and tuna - and yes, they were raw and delicious. At some point I begin last-minute nesting, consisting of ordering my husband around to finish up the laundry and tidy up our room. Just in case Better Homes and Gardens arrives to take photographs or conduct an interview.

6pm
Around this time I decide it would be interesting to download a contraction timer app just to see if I am developing a pattern. The midwives tell me to wait for "5-1-1" (contractions that are strong and occur about 5 mins apart, each lasting 1+ mins in length, and maintaining this pattern for an hour), and at this time my contractions are fairly scattered in frequency, intensity, and duration. I clearly am in early labor, as I delight in experimenting with different positions, finding that standing and hanging onto my husband feels the best, i.e. the most progress is being made. Downward facing dog position, on the other hand, makes for a miserably painful contraction; stick to cat and cow.

8pm? 9pm?
I don't know. By this time I quit using the stupid app, because I need all my focus to cope with contractions and I don't have the patience to hit the "start" and "stop" button, let alone the emoticon which is supposed to represent my pain level. The beauty of a labor that is not augmented with drugs (as my others had been) is that you really do get to rest between "sets", like a workout. I find my body gives me about 3-5 mins between moderate contractions of about a minute in length, and almost 20 mins between the whoppers I have in the bathroom. Around this time I start having contractions that leave me questioning my decision to "go natural", that's for darn sure.

9?10?11pm?
Who's keeping track? Not I! I just want my husband present for every contraction and shout for him if he isn't nearby. I also getvery picky about what kind of counter-pressure I want on my back and find that I am becoming very vocal. Between cattle-like lowing noises and demands regarding back rubs, I'm pretty pushy. I don't recall being this way in the hospital....but you'd have to ask my family for their recollections...

Somewhere within this time frame I tell Matt we NEED to call the midwives to let them know that "ish is getting REAL!", but he makes me wait a few contractions like a good coach (I had some other names for him at the time). I start to feel like some kind of spooked farm animal at this point - pretty sure I look like a terrified cow, when you can see the whites all the way around their eyes. I start crying and telling my hubby that I can't do it anymore, that I didn't realize it would hurt this much. It is incredible and terrifying to feel EVERYTHING - to feel the strong muscles of my uterus opening me wider and wider. And since whining and moaning does not appear to impede the progress of my labor, I choose to continue my petulant behavior rather than stay on top of the contractions with breathing and relaxation techniques. Whatever.

I now demand to use the phone in a very scary voice.

I think my midwife can tell where I'm at by talking to me, and she is able to meet us at the birth center within an hour. After some last minute packing, we're ready. Then I am hit with a really strong contraction that drives me to my knees beside the bed. My mom comes to my aid, but I only want my husband. I have the presence of mind to grab a bag I see under the bed before emptying the contents of my stomach into it (pecan pie, in case you were interested). A couple contractions down the stairs later and....we're IN the car!

The drive at night is quiet and serene, punctuated by two or three contractions involving cow sounds and a new trick I obtain of lilting my voice to sound like a ghost, "oooOOOOOoooooOOOOH!". My husband chuckles a little. I tell him to shut up. There may have been curse words.

11:30pm - 1am
At the birth center I am checked for progress and found to be doing "well". The midwife wisely avoids telling me the exact number of centimeters I've dilated, as this can be a total head trip and doesn't always tell you about how much longer labor will last. I was overjoyed to find that she was filling the huge jacuzzi tub and found a degree of relief sliding into it. I actually cannot imagine continuing labor outside the water; it wasn't pain-free, but being able to float my body and legs up a little during contractions was better than contending with gravity. 

"Labor land" is sometimes used to describe this intense period where contractions come close, hard, and the mother loses track of time. I think this is an accurate description of my next hour in the tub. Contractions are honestly more than I can "stay on top of", even with an arsenal of Bradley Method relaxation techniques stored in my head, so I whine and weep and moan through each one. Between contractions I drift into such deep relaxation that I fall asleep several times. The only change during this time is the introduction of a green Otter Pop (delicious!!!) and a cold wash cloth for my head. I shunned all hippie relaxation music, physical touch, and use of fans. I keep a light hold on my husband's hand at all times - you can ask him, I did NOT squeeze his hand into a crumpled mass. I had too much to contend with as it was.

1am? 1:15am?
"PRESSURE!!!!!!! OH MY GOD, HELP ME, JESUS HELP ME, SO MUCH PRESSURE!!!!!!" The midwife checks me and we are nearly ready to push, but there is a little cervix in the way. She wisely has me spend a couple contractions on my left side, and I apparently go from 7-10cm in mere minutes. It feels like it, too. FREAKING CRAZY. I'm shaking with the pain and dreading the start of each contraction. I know one's coming because my darling baby kicks me hard, like he's triggering the darned things. Then it builds like a wave and crests, and double crests, and TRIPLE crests into deep, deep, mind blowing pain.

When I turn on my back again, it's pushing time. My husband is a little stunned; apparently he thought I was being a bit of a pansy and that we weren't anywhere near this point. Frankly, I thought the same thing.

So, I am a bit of a birth story junkie and have read that second stage can be "fun" or a "relief" because the act of pushing through these contractions minimizes the pain. Huh. Well, I can't say I have the same experience. In fact, the cow sounds turn to screaming, yes - pure, undignified screaming. I have never, ever screamed like this in my life. The sound of my own voice frightens me a little, but I cannot help it. Part of my brain that was able to remain lucid goofy told me that this is what it's like to become a vampire (Yes, I've read Twilight. A few times. Don't judge.), and afterwards I'll have super stunning good looks, unbelievable strength, and I'll get to live in Washington and eat bears every day.

Praise God that my second stage of labor is over in eight minutes. EIGHT MINUTES!

1:30am
And then this soft, slippery little person slides out of me into the water and is quickly placed on my chest and everything goes quiet. Probably because I've stopped screaming. But it feels like I'm buffeted by silence and wrapped in peace. The pain completely stops and I'm so relieved and grateful. I don't get a major rush of euphoria - at least, not the kind that involves happy weeping and goo goo eyes - just a quiet, deep calm. Luke pinks up quickly and breathes well after a little suctioning, and we just hold each other for a bit until my husband cuts the cord.

I deliver the placenta on the bed - just a little push, no major pain - and get to take a good look at it, too! Fascinating what my body made and nourished my baby with. By this time Luke has latched on and is nursing like a champ, just like his big brother did. After nearly an hour of uninterrupted snuggling and nursing, I get to take a leisurely shower and am lovingly handled by the midwife and her assistant as I head back to the birth room. Luke is weighed and measured and shortly thereafter we head home. We all sleep for nearly eight hours straight and wake around 9 or 10am to greet my son JP, who is happy and slightly awed by his little brother.

__________________________________________________________________________________

During this first day I start to process my experience. My first thought is that this was a nice experiment but NOT worth the pain. I would have happily accepted an epidural had it been available. Then I start making a mental checklist of my post birth sensations.......and I change my mind. IT IS WORTH IT. And here is why:

- I did not tear. I had a third degree tear with my older son in the hospital, and trying to recover from a serious wound, taking narcotics for the pain, AND caring for a newborn is no picnic. Plus the pain of this injury lingered with me for nearly a year. This was my BIGGEST fear going into this experience with Luke. My husband and I actually high-fived when the midwife delivered the good news!
- I have almost no back pain. Just some mild stuff I expected from my body going back into place. That epidural was so nice at my last birth, but the resulting back pain was prolonged and intense.
- I am not swollen. I was puffy and swollen from all the drugs and the IV fluids pumped into me for over 30 hours at my hospital birth. When I looked in the mirror the day after Luke's birth, I looked like.....myself!
- I have energy. Almost too much, because I've been out and about a little more than I should. I actually have to reel myself in and remind myself I'm still in recovery!
- My mind is whole. At least, as whole as it ever is. I had feelings of anger and confusion regarding my last birth experience. We were constantly being interrupted during and after my oldest son's birth, so we never got to rest properly. I had recurrent, irrational, and angry thoughts for months after his birth, and in hindsight I probably needed some professional help. I am still on my guard, and pray daily for a healthy mind and body so I can care for my family. I know PPD can strike any time, but I feel I've gotten a much healthier start this go-round.
- My digestive system is in perfect working order. Just what you wanted to hear, right? But if you've had babies, you probably remember that first trip to the bathroom - especially for #2 - being pretty scary. Let's just say I'm not imploring all the angels and saints in Heaven to pray for God's mercy on me when I'm in the loo.

So yeah, it hurt like crazy. I don't feel "empowered" by my natural birth necessarily, because my mind was fighting my body most of the time. My hormones and muscles carried me along for an insane ride and I just managed to hang on. I'm no hero; I would have taken pain relieving drugs if they were there, and I completely empathize with and respect women who do. But I won't take drugs or go to a hospital - not ever again if I can help it. Because I feel amazing in body, mind and spirit. My baby is getting fatter each day and my toddler is getting more wily, and I'm possibly up to the challenge of wrangling them both. I'm amazed and grateful to my support team (especially my husband) every time I reflect on Luke's birth, and rather in awe of the way my body is healing. I should go step outside real quick and see if my skin sparkles......