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The Birth Story! March 27, 2005

These have been the longest, hardest, craziest, and most joyful days of my life...

It all started on Tuesday, March 8th. I was four days overdue and getting somewhat impatient so I decided to try inducing labor by using the breastpump. I don't know why, but I honestly didn't think it would work. Or, if it did work, I thought I'd have a few mild contractions and they'd stop. So I was surprised and skeptical when I started to feel crampy at 9p.m. just after pumping. And I was even more surprised when that crampy feeling started to come every 10 minutes and last for 30 seconds.

We called our midwife at 10:30 when the contractions were about 7 minutes apart. Then we called our families at midnight when they were 5 minutes apart. Our midwife said to wait until contractions were a minute long and 4 minutes apart and she would come over, but the contractions never really got any longer than 45 seconds.

At around 3 a.m. Jason and I fell asleep. I slept in between and thru the contractions until 6 a.m. When I woke up, the contractions were 7 minutes apart and barely 45 seconds long. This continued all day. My mom and sister came over after work to help us get things organized. I rested and relaxed. We all thought things were going to pick up soon. I kept thinking, "I'm going to be a mom in the next 24 hours!" But still, the contractions never got any longer than 45 seconds.

At dinnertime, I decided to go lay down and try to sleep while everyone ate. I slept fitfully and felt disoriented when I woke up. How much time had passed? How many contractions had I felt? Were they closer or longer? Where was Jason?

Jason's family arrived at around 9p.m. just as I was waking up. We'd decided to have them drive out because we thought the baby would be born during the night or early the next day and there was snow in the forecast, so we didn't want them to be unable to make it later on. Thinking I would fall back to sleep, Jason went out to the garage to inflate some air mattresses for our company. While I waited for Jason to come back I started to feel abandoned. I didn't want to go through another contraction alone in our pitch-black bedroom. I began crying and went to get Jason. By the time we got back upstairs to our bedroom, I was sobbing. Jason quickly realized how much I needed him beside me and apologized for not being there. We timed a few more contractions; 7 to 5 minutes apart and still no longer than 45 seconds. I was dreading going into hard labor this exhausted, but I couldn't fall back to sleep.

We called the midwife at around midnight and she suggested I take a warm bath and see if we could slow things down enough for me to sleep. While I was in the bathtub, the contractions came only every ten minutes and I started to nod off. Then Jason fell asleep on the bathroom floor and started snoring, which woke me up again. We decided to go back upstairs where Jason could sleep. I timed contractions off and on while he slept because having contractions in the dark and not knowing the time really bothered me for some reason. The contractions were once again coming every 7 minutes for 45 seconds.

Finally at around 3:30 a.m., I woke Jason up and asked him to call the midwife. I was getting progressively more exhausted and wanted to know what we could do to really get things going. Our midwife said she would be over in an hour, but it was a bit longer than that when she arrived due to the snowy weather. Rachel woke up and kept me company while we waited for our midwife Becky to arrive. Jason went back up to bed. I had some food and drank some juice thinking that I would need the energy when labor really got under way.

When Becky arrived, she had me take some "False Unicorn" an herb that helps labor progress for most women. Then we sat in the kitchen talking about parenting and waiting to see what would happen next. I remember thinking I was too talkative to be very far along in labor. At one point, I told Becky that the contractions seemed more intense when I laid on my left side, so we went into the living room and I laid on my side for a few contractions. No major difference. Then I switched to my right side and almost immediately fell asleep. I had no contractions for the next hour and after that they were 10 minutes apart. This was at around 7:00 a.m. Thursday morning.

We had Becky do an internal exam later that morning and discovered that I was only 1 cm dilated so we decided to send our company home. I was a bit embarrassed about the false alarm and making my family miss school and work for nothing.

Throughout the day on Thursday I continued having contractions at 7-minute intervals. I don't remember much of what we did that day. I think we just talked and rested. I felt convicted that things had failed to progress because the Lord wanted to show me that I was not in control. I felt foolish for trying to start labor.

Thursday night I realized that the reason the contractions were more painful when I laid on my left side was because I was constipated. I took a hot bath and then a hot shower trying to relax before going to bed, but nothing worked. Finally I went and watched a movie and came back to bed around 2 a.m. when I was really, really groggy. I slept for about four hours with the contractions causing me to have strange dreams, like I was being attacked by sharks and the lower half of my body had been eaten.

On Friday morning, Jason and I made a trip to the drug store to get something to help with the constipation. We were optimistic that taking care of the constipation would help labor progress, but there was no real difference except that I was less uncomfortable. I had contractions all day still at 7 minutes apart. Jason and I went to Pamida that evening to buy a stopwatch and a movie. We watched the movie and relaxed some more after we got home.

Later that night, I tried another warm bath before bed. Unlike the last few times I'd taken a bath, this time my contractions continued at the same pace. I laid down with Jason only for a little while that night before deciding there was no way I was going to sleep. I went downstairs and laid on the futon and timed contractions for a couple hours. Now the contractions were about 5 minutes apart yet still not much longer than 45 seconds. I went back upstairs and woke Jason. I was dreading another night of contractions. I asked Jason to check and see if I was any further dilated. He said he couldn�t tell for sure but that it seemed like I was about 2 and a half centimeters. Jason got up with me and we walked laps around the living room and kitchen. The contractions continued to get closer together and it was obvious they were more intense, but they were still only 45 seconds long. We called Becky and asked her to come over.

When Becky arrived she said she felt certain things were finally picking up. My disposition had changed significantly. I wasn't feeling talkative at all. We decided to stop timing the contractions as it was obvious they were picking up speed and were longer than 45 seconds.

I labored in my bedroom with the encouragement of my husband Jason and our midwife Becky for the rest of the night and into the next morning. The contractions weren't terribly painful during this time but they did required me to be much more introverted than I had been the previous three days.

Early Saturday morning, we invited our families to come over asking them to be as quiet as possible when they arrived. Eventually, Rachel came upstairs to sit with us. Somewhere a long the line, it was mentioned that my mom was frantically cooking and cleaning the house. I thought it might make her feel better if she could come upstairs for a little bit and see that I was doing just fine, but when she came upstairs I could see that she felt really left out. This bothered me greatly, but I really didn't know what to do to help her feel better. The reason I wanted her to stay downstairs while I was in active labor was because my mom is typically not a very calm person and, although she was wonderful when I saw her at various times during my labor, I didn't trust her to remain calm as my labor progressed. I see now that I should have trusted the Lord to work this out rather than trying to protect myself unnecessarily.

I continued having stronger and stronger contractions throughout the day all day Saturday. I handled the contractions best when sitting propped up in bed or else sitting on the very edge of the bed with my legs spread wide open. When I would lay on my side, I would have to fight the urge to tense up unless someone was applying pressure to my lower back. As the hours passed, my sense of time was became non-existent. I know I took a hot shower and a warm bath at some point and Jason and I napped as it was beginning to get dark outside, but I don't remember much else of what went on that day.

At random points throughout the day I would become irritable and discouraged and we would think I was entering transition. Eventually I had Jason and the midwife check to see how far dilated I was. They thought I was at about seven centimeters and that the cervix seemed thicker in the front. This meant I needed to go through some contractions on my hands and knees--the position most unbearable for me. After a couple hours of laboring in the various positions that we thought would help me dilate the rest of the way, Jason and I took a nap and Rachel and Becky went downstairs to get dinner.

When we woke up an hour later, I had Jason and Becky check my dilation once again. To my dismay, I was no further dilated and this time the cervical lip seemed to be on my right side. I didn't know what to do at this point. I tried to relax through contractions, but I was only successful at relaxing for maybe one out of three. It wasn't that they were more painful. I just couldn't tolerate them very well anymore.

At around 8 p.m., shortly after we'd discovered I was only 7 cm. dilated with a cervical lip, my water broke. This encouraged me to stay at home and persevere for a bit longer. I wasn't handling labor well at all by this time. I prayed for the Lord to please, please help this little baby to come out. I was running on less than 12 hours of sleep for the last four days and I'd been in active labor for 16 hours. I felt confused and frantic. It seemed like I was so close yet so far away. I didn't understand why I couldn't dilate beyond 7 cm.

At around 10 p.m. I started to feel like pushing. Or at least I thought I felt like pushing. I didn't really know what I felt except I knew something didn't feel right. I couldn't find a tolerable position and I couldn't relax. Finally, I begged Jason to take me to the hospital. I hated to abandon my dream of a gentle homebirth, but I felt sure that something was wrong. I worried that I would end up with a cesarean section, but I figured they would just give me pitocin and possibly some pain medication at the hospital and by this time that didn't seem like a bad option.

When we arrived at the hospital, the nurses were shocked to see us. I'm afraid to say we were treated poorly at first. Perhaps this was because we looked so horrible after laboring for so long or maybe because I look so young, but more than likely it was because we'd attempted a homebirth. There was no OB/GYN on call there and the doctor on call didn't feel comfortable delivering the baby knowing that they could not offer me a cesarean section if it came down to that, so I was given Nubain and sent by ambulance to a hospital 20 minutes away.

From the time I got to the hospital and throughout the entire ambulance trip I was pushing. The Nubain did absolutely nothing to control the pushing urge. I was only 7 to 8 centimeters dilated so the doctors were worried that I would tear my cervix if I continued pushing. I was instructed to pant through the contractions so I wouldn't push. This only worked once. I nearly hyperventilated through all of the other contractions and still I ended up pushing in spite of my very best efforts.

Once we arrived at the hospital in DL, I was offered a spinal block that I refused at first then realized I needed since I could not stop pushing and I was not yet fully dilated. It was scary lying on my side while someone prepared to poke me in the spine with a needle. I kept asking the Anesthesiologist what he was doing. When that was over, I felt a million times better and I no longer had to fight myself to keep from pushing.

I dilated quickly now that I wasn't pushing against the cervix and pretty soon the doctor told me it was ok to push. The only problem was, I was numb and couldn't feel the muscles I needed to push with. I tried nevertheless and made some progress but it was slow going and I was falling asleep in between contractions. The nurses brought in a mirror so I could see my baby's head coming out. This made it somewhat easier to push, but now the baby's heart rate was dropping between contractions.

When the doctor told me he was going to have to use the vacuum to get the baby out, my first thought was, "well, so much for the perineal massage we were so diligent about during my pregnancy". I wanted to protest the vacuum extraction, but I also knew I was too tired to get this baby out by myself.

The doctor didn't pull the baby out so much as he kept the baby from slipping back in between contractions, but still I tore significantly. Then again, maybe that was because of the shoulder dystocia. When our babies head was out and I could see those huge little cheeks all scrunched up, I was so amazed that I nearly forgot that I needed to push the rest of him out.

The doctor stood up seconds after the head was delivered and so I could no longer see what was going on in the mirror. He had a concerned tone in his voice as he worked to help turn the baby and dislodge the baby's shoulders. He asked the nurses to apply "fundal pressure"--something the nurse later told me typically results in a baby with a broken collarbone.

The next thing I knew, there was this warm, slimy, heavy little newborn placed on my tummy. The sensation of touching my newborn for the very first time was forever burned into my memory. Motherhood suddenly became real. I was a mom! The doctor prompted Jason to cut the cord and I heard him say, "It's a boy! It's our Benjamin Andrew!" Then Jason started sobbing.

Benjamin had passed merconium shortly before being born so the nurses whisked him away to be suctioned out just moments after I held him for the first time. The entire time they were working on him (administering the vitamin K, eyedrops, and doing the PKU tests I'd hoped to avoid by birthing at home) I couldn't take my eyes off of him. If anyone stood between us and blocked my sight of him I got instantly upset, so much so that I remember being surprised at how strongly I felt about needing to keep my eyes on him.

I don't remember birthing the placenta. I know they gave me pitocin through an IV and I think the placenta must have come while I was busy watching my baby as the nurses worked on him. The doctor had to give me stitches shortly thereafter. I couldn't feel anything, but I was terrified. I'd seen in the mirror where I'd torn as I gave birth to my son, and just the thought of getting stitches there was nauseating. Thankfully, the baby distracted me and the doctor worked quickly.

Finally, I got to hold Benjamin again. He had a silly hat on and was all wrapped up. I wanted to feel that skin-on-skin contact that I'd felt when I held him earlier, but he was bundled up so nicely and I didn't want to make him cold. He got passed to Daddy next and then on to his Aunties, Uncle, and Grandparents.

After everyone went home, I tried nursing but Benji wasn't interested yet. Then the nurses offered to help me get cleaned up while Jason went with Benji to the nursery for a quick sponge bath. Afterward, they brought Benjamin back in a little bassinet. He slept there for a few hours and Jason tried to sleep on the hospital's version of a torture device disguised as a hide-away bed.

The next day, Sunday, Jason went home for a bit to get some much-needed sleep and I got to know my baby boy. I don't think I did anything all day except gaze into his precious little face. The doctor told us he'd like us to stay in the hospital another day to work on getting nursing established. I was fine with that. I could barely get myself to the bathroom without help anyways. But the next day (Monday) passed and I didn't get Benjamin to nurse until that night. I was really proud of myself after I was able to nurse Benjamin for the first time and I felt good about going home. I thought we'd be going home Tuesday morning, but Benjamin's doctor came in Tuesday and told me Benji had Jaundice and needed to be put on the bili-light...

Thus began our horrifically long (or so it seemed to me) hospital stay. I don't have much good to say about that whole experience. I cried (or bawled actually) every single day. I don't want to go on a huge rant so here's a brief summary: Benji's bilirubin count was too high so they hooked him up to the most awkward, glowing contraption in the world and told me I needed to feed him. I tried to feed him but he was too lethargic. Some of the nurses suggested I supplement with formula, but neglected to tell me that I could supplement with formula without giving my baby a bottle. I refused to give my baby a bottle knowing that this would likely cause him to be unable to nurse. My baby is turning yellow and getting more lethargic and I feel frantic because I don't know how I can get him to eat when he's so sleepy without giving him a bottle. In the nick of time, a nursing consultant comes on duty at the hospital and suggests I pump breastmilk and feed it to Benjamin using a medicine cup. She says Benji is less likely to develop "nipple confusion" this way. So I pump and feed Benji little by little, but my milk hasn't exactly come in yet, so it's very slow going. Benji's bilirubin levels haven't gone down despite my best efforts to feed him and get his digestive system going. New nurses come on duty the next day and suggest that since my milk hasn't come in, I should give Benji formula with a syringe. Desperate to help my sleepy, little, yellow baby feel better, I agree to this. Benjamin gets formula every two hours all night long. Meanwhile, my milk comes in and I'm pumping milk and storing it in the refrigerator because I've been told that the bilirubin will get out of Benji's system fast if we feed him formula. Then, when the nurses change shifts, I'm told that I should be giving Benji my breastmilk because breastmilk is easier to digest and since Benji hasn't had a dirty diaper in two days this is important. So Benji gets breastmilk and finally his bilirubin levels begin to go down. It continues to go down so we get to go home at last!!

Links
15 wk Ultrasound
23 wk Ultrasound
Nursery Pic
Dad's Baby Pic