When I was 11 I was told because of my health condition I would likely never have children, unless I were to adopt. I was told this again shortly after I was married. Not a problem, we wanted to adopt anyway. When I was 21 I was late for the first time EVER so I figured, this is it, I must have uterine cancer. I went to the doctor alone because I didn’t want anyone to know yet, especially my new husband. After the doctor revealed the earth shattering news I called my husband and had him come get me. I was sure I was too much in shock to make the short walk home. I got into the car and didn’t say a word. He noticed I was pale and asked why I was there and what happened. I informed him that I was 3 weeks pregnant. He fell absolutely silent for 30 seconds, then said “We’re going to need classical music.”
In the coming months as the pregnancy progressed we were ecstatic and living in bliss with our pending arrival. We were living in a new city for my husband's schooling and had no near by friends or relatives, but we were happy. This was a very small city and they were limited medically, as well as low on prenatal classes, so we were winging it.
I took an online birth class, and googled pain management but was truly very ignorant of all that is really involved in labour. When my husband graduated he could not find work in his field for 2 months straight. So we packed up, I left the doctor who was following the pregnancy, and moved cities. I was seven months pregnant at the time. When we got moved in we were glad to have friends and family close by again, but it took a little bit to get my prenatal care back on track. I felt like I sort of slipped through the cracks. When I got to see the doctor who was assigned to “catch” my baby he laughed out loud when I told him I wanted a drug free labour and told me “We’ll see how it goes.”
When he took my blood pressure his joking demeanour and the smile on his face quickly faded. He called a nurse in to bring a different cuff and tried again. He shook his head and rubbed his chin at the results and sent us to the hospital immediately. Upon arrival my terrified husband and I were told that I had pre-eclampsia and that the baby and I were in great danger. They would need to induce me right then. It was already evening and visiting hours were coming to an end. They forced my husband to go home, leaving me alone, and scared in the hospital. In my past I was sexually assaulted and am terrified of any kind of vaginal exam as a result. So it was hard when I had to allow a medical student to insert that tab that softens the cervix. He wrapped the string around and around put it in.. I didn’t think that was right, but thought he must know what he is doing he is a medical student, I am just a patient.
Labour progressed through the night. They strapped a fetal monitor on me. And gave me a pitocin drip. I didn’t sleep a wink. I wasn’t offered any food, but I could drink small amounts of water. My husband came back as soon as he was able and I felt better with him by my side. I relaxed a little and as I did, my contractions got stronger and more painful. I did what felt natural and was moaning through them. I was informed by an irritated nurse that I had to be quieter because this was a shared room, and I might be bothering the other women. So, completely ashamed, I stopped making noises. Hours went by and I was checked by a no non-sense nurse.
I tried to tell her I was afraid of vaginal exams but she became annoyed quickly and scolded “Stop crying!” as she forced her way in to check. Finally I was able to go into the delivery wing. There was a wonderful nurse there. She was so motherly and calming. I felt myself calm down and relax. I thought I had to have a bowel movement and went to the bathroom to try to go. The nurse recognised this and had me come out and on to the bed where I can be checked and wait for the doctor. While we waited, the wonderful nurse was off shift and another nurse came in with the same no nonsense nurse as before. She checked me much in the same manor, only this time said over her shoulder to the other nurse “This one is a crier”, then looked back to me “You are not going to cry this time are you?” and they were both laughing about it. I was too embarrassed to do anything else but laugh with them. I cried again during the check. When my doctor finally arrived he noticed in my charts that I had that insert. He decided it was time to take it out. Fine, accept he couldn’t find it, so the nurse tries, she can’t find it. A different nurse tries and also cant find it. This is sheer agony for me, and I loose track of how many people are looking for it in me, and of how long it took. I only became aware of my surroundings again when the doctor was repeating my name until he got my attention and showed me they had finally found it.
Then the doctor buzzes around the room and looks at the foetal monitor charts, and my contractions, and tells me that My baby is probably too big and I may need a c-section. I declined and he offered me an epidural, again I declined. Then he said they would break my water to help the baby drop as she was still very high up there. Once that was done they discovered there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. My doctor said they would need to do a c-section. My throat felt like it was getting too tight and it was hard to breath. I didn’t know what was happening, I just knew I DID NOT want a c-section.
I remembered somewhere in my research reading about having a whole 24 hours to deliver a baby once waters have broken. I brought this up and my doctor reluctantly agreed “for now” and offered me an epidural before leaving. I declined then he left. I thought this would be a good time to let the night nurse know my wishes for my baby after she is born. I requested that I be allowed bonding time with my baby before the weighing, eye gouping, and cleaning. I told her I wanted to breast feed right away and for my baby never to have a bottle or formula or to be taken to the nursery. This seemed to make the nurse very irate, as if I were undermining her or something. She puffed up her chest, jutted out her jaw and gave a half laugh and said “We will take your baby to the nursery if needed and we will giver her a bottle of formula. That is what happens in the nursery” the tight feeling was back and I thought I couldn’t breathe.
The nurse went on to explain about different procedures that would prevent my wishes. She then went on to talking about how they will do a c-section if needed. The tight feeling got even worse and she called the doctor back in. He examined me and said if I wasn’t able to calm down they would need to do a c-section. My husband held my hand tightly and that was all I thought about for a moment. Just the feeling of his strong, sure hands on mine. They then offered me an epidural yet again but with the promise that it would help us all to relax. I finally agreed. They missed on the first try and tried again. They and got it. The doctor left, and my poor husband was fainting. It occurred to me he hadn’t eaten since he got there that morning, and it was coming on to 10:00pm. I sent him to get food, then passed out for a little bit. I came to when the night nurse was taking blood pressure I asked her for water, but she refused. I hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours and hadn’t had water in about 16 hours. To this day my husband and I are not sure why, but she then began to continue our discussion from before about how they would take my baby if needed and give her a bottle. I began to have trouble breathing again then my husband asserted himself, for the first time since I met him. He angrily asked the nurse why she was telling us all of this. The nurse seemed slightly taken back, then snapped “I need a smoke!” and left.
I was informed that my doctor went home for the night and a new doctor would be taking over. I waited for what seemed like forever to meet him. I went into that labour-land trance where you are pretty sure you are going to die. I don’t know how long this lasted, but the doctor finally came. He suggested a c-section. The night nurse quickly responded that my doctor thought it would be best, but I was able to focus enough to tell him no I wanted a vaginal birth. But my voice sounded so far away and lost in time. Then I remember the night doctor was looking directly in my eyes and calling my name. I focused enough to hear him. He was saying that if I was going to make it through this, I needed to look in his eyes and only there. He told me it was time to push.
I began to push. It was 2:03 in the morning. I pushed, laying on my back, in a semi sitting position with my husband holding one leg and the night nurse on the other. I pushed when they said to for as long as they said to. I was pretty sure my brain was going to explode. All I could here was the blood loudly rushing in my ears. My eyes felt as if they would burst. They announced the baby was crowning. They asked me to push harder than ever before, as I was in the middle of pushing when I felt sudden, searing hot pain and I screamed loudly. I was harshly reprimanded by the night nurse not to make noise. Then the doctor seemed to panic and said “We need to help her out!” He grabbed the forceps and without warning or asking me ripped my baby out of me. It was 2:16. She was quickly whisked away to a table in the corner while the NICU team assessed her. After lots of suctioning she cried. She was alive. She weighed 8lbs even, they reported.
I asked my husband to go be with her as they stitched me up. When he spoke, I realized it was the first time since she was born. The NICU team informed us that when my husband spoke our daughter actually turned her head towards him. (she is still a daddy’s girl to this day) As they stitched me up, my husband brought my daughter to me, I held her in my arms and I knew that we had won the battle. In a world of doctors and nurses that said I couldn’t, I did. With the help of God and my own determination, my new family and I fought and won!
Showing posts with label eating in labour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating in labour. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Saturday, November 28, 2009
The Birth of My Second Daughter… How I Came To Give Birth In A Bathroom.
When I had my first daughter, it was a nightmare… the only good part was that I was handed a baby. Seriously.
I totally could relate to this artwork: http://birthlove.cyclzone.com/pages/csec_vbac/meghan.html
Then I met Rebecca Francis, a doula from Seattle. I told her my birth story… in tears. She told me it sounded like I could have used a doula. I learnt what a doula was… what they do… and how to become one. I thought that women should have the option of professional labour support, should they choose it. The outcomes show that there is a serious benefit. Then one morning, not long after, I woke up and thought that while I still wanted to be a doula, why not be part of the movement to give women a completely different choice of care provider…?
I decided to become a midwife…
Within a month of midwifery education… I wanted a baby!
I THOUGHT I WAS INSANE… but nevertheless!!!!
(I have been told this happens a lot… My first daughter had weaned‘officially’ in September, at age two… so I maybe it was biological in more ways than one….)
Needless to say I wanted my care to come from a midwife, and if I qualified, I wanted to have a homebirth.
I found an amazing midwife… Her partner midwife IRONICALLY had lived up the STREET from us when I had my first daughter. (MAJOR kick in the stomach.)
I had a fantastic pregnancy, I felt really healthy, and very pro-active. I received informed choice and consent on EVERY aspect of my pregnancy. I chose to have an initial blood work up for type, Rh factor, Rubella immunity, HIV, and HBV. I had one ultrasound at about 20 weeks. I qualified for homebirth, but was unable to have it in MY home due to the distance and current legislation. For this reason, Neil and I decided to have the baby in my doula's house.
My Mom arrived on July 15th. When I’m close to having a baby, it’s like I wait for her… I ALSO was waiting on newborn sized baby diapers…. They came on the 18th, at that point I knew I was ready to have a baby. All systems were a go… I just lovingly looked at my birth supplies… it was a weird time.
Throughout the 20th and 21st, I had ‘Pre Labour Symptoms’… sometimes referred to as ‘False Labour Symptoms’ by the Medical Model. It is not that stage of labour which is ‘actively’ dilating the cervix… and is therefore not true active labour… but it is preparing and toning the uterus, effacing the cervix, preparing and toning the mother… It’s the jog before the marathon. On the night of the 21st I knew I’d have a baby soon. I felt a lot more pressure, and was moving into the zone… I called my doula for a heads up. She was planning on going out, and was like ‘Eileen, should I be going out?’ And I was like, ‘Yes, go out… just don’t paint the town red because I’m pretty sure I’ll be in tomorrow.’
By midnight on (the 22nd) I was waking up to a contraction every 20 minutes… they were getting stronger, but not closer together. I’d get a good grip for about 15-20 seconds. This was my first experience with normal labour, as last time I had back labour… I would roll out of bed; get onto all fours, and think to myself, ‘this is bizarre, the sensation goes away between contractions.’ I’d then roll back into bed, and literally fall asleep.
At 4am I woke my Mom up, and told her that we needed to get organized to go to the city, I was 10 minutes apart. She was a bit stressed… we didn’t even have our bags packed… we packed… and ate…I had a bath… and then we waited for Neil and our daughter to wake up. At about 7am our daughter was up… so within 15 minutes I went in and said to Neil, ‘You better get up, we need to head into the city, I’m in labour.’
You should have seen the LEAP he did.
It was so ER… get the woman to the hospital… change your pants… like.
Only… we weren’t going to the hospital… and he needed to calm down.
I was like, ‘Relax, just get dressed and get organized, so you can help me with Ais.’
At 8am we were in the truck, ready…
I asked if we had the tubs…
Neil said, ‘What tubs?’
I said… ‘The ones with the birth supplies….?’
Back in the house he went…
PHEW! THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN GOOD!!!!!!!!! (NOT!)
We made it to Rosetown, and we stopped for me to go to the washroom, and get something to eat… the man who was pumping the gas and washing the windows asked Neil if ‘his wife was in labour.’ Neil’s like ‘yep.’ And buddy proceeds to say ‘OH, my girlfriend did that a few weeks ago…’ and tell him the story!!!!
I actually slept between Rosetown and Saskatoon. I was already tired, I told myself ‘YOU NEED TO SLEEP.’ I don’t actually recall any more than ONE contraction between Rosetown and Saskatoon… weird eh?
By 10:30am, we were at my doula’s house.
I had two contractions 10 minutes apart, and then they moved to 8 minutes.
We settled in…
Neil ran to Tim’s to grab me an egg salad sandwich, and then to Booster Juice for a Very Berry Juice, with GO GIRL booster.
While we ate, my midwife arrived to do my blood pressure, take my temperature, and remind me to eat lots, pee on the hour or more, and to just see how I was doing. She also said that she would do a vaginal exam only at my request (I had previously said no VEs in labour), and that she’d stick around, but would only come into my room to check heart tones… Otherwise, she understood I wanted privacy, and would be in the main part of the doulas house, holler if I wanted her.
While we ate, I moved to 5 minutes apart…
We’d all eat, and then I’d hop off the chair…
Mom would hop up, and do the double-hip squeeze, my doula would talk me through the stretch, Neil would encourage me, and our daughter would inform everyone that “her Mom needed to have a baby.”
I ate most of the sandwich, and then we went back upstairs.
That was at 12:30 pm, my midwife and doula told Mom that I’d have a baby by suppertime. I was thinking that while I adored them, they could kiss it!!! I was NOT waiting until suppertime!!!!!
This is when my ability to tell time goes to hell.
I just remember walking… a lot.
We filled the tub, I got into it… I had two contractions, during which nobody could reach me to do the double-hip squeeze… I asked them to help me out… SO MUCH FOR THE WATER. I hated it… it was not an ideal set-up. Lesson learnt.
It was bizarre, when I had a contraction, and after one… I HAD to move. And moving would bring on another one. Bizarre, totally bizarre… I usually was leaning forward but sometimes I leaned back. After one contraction I hit the floor and went into Childs Pose. Everyone was like ‘oh yeah….’ Totally do not know what I was doing… or why, but it worked! There was no slowing me down, or speeding me up… I was completely at the whims of nature and my body.
Nobody told me how to be, where to be… They held the space, and let me labour.
Within a couple contractions my midwife was in the room to check heart tones… I looked at her and asked her to get me a bucket because I thought I might be sick.
She grabbed me the bucket, but it was like I couldn’t vomit up and out… it was just gurgling under the surface, making it to my mouth, and then sliding back down.
^Needless to say, I’m off egg salad and booster juice!
I looked at her and Mom and said that I needed to go to the bathroom.
I sat on the toilet, and BAM, that was when I hit the wall that everyone talks about…
You get that ‘Oh my God, I can’t do this anymore’ and then you start wanting to push… and you are back in charge. I just needed to make it to wanting to push….
I was just glad I knew it was coming… I’d hit the wall, and now I had to scale it… I have no idea how long this part was... to me it’s like a minute of memory, but everyone else assures me it was longer than that!
I sat on the toilet and cried… And then soon after I felt like ‘I give up… I surrender’ and then shortly after I got a sensation that caused me to do a little 3 second grunty push. I looked at my Mom and said, “Mommy help me…” and she started to get upset.
She bent down to hug me… and I literally tried to crawl her. She thought I was giving up… and she didn’t know what to do.
I needed her to get me off the damn toilet.
Communication was obviously breaking down… and I had about 5 seconds of time to speak between urges. It was cryptic.
My doula came into the bathroom and she squatted down to look at my perineum, and then she helped my Mom pull me up off the toilet. She then hollered to my midwife, who was coming into the suite that “we had show,” and that I was starting to push a bit. I was standing in the doorway arms around my Mom, face in her chest… and someone asked if I thought I could move to the couch, so I could rest on it…. I couldn’t talk so I just shook my head ‘no’ and my Mom spoke for me.
They grabbed everything and started hauling it into the bathroom…
Neil came in at some point, and I ended up with my right hand in his hand…
A contraction would hit, I would let out a quick shriek, I would then feel the urge to push for about 3 seconds, and then I’d just stand and moan, and slide side to side.
And then it would happen again.
According to the attendants I only pushed 3 times, but I know it was more like 6 times, they just weren’t there yet!
My midwife told me that the baby was still in the membranes, head out, but that there was a nuchal cord (cord around neck), so she asked permission to AROM (break the waters.) I shook my head ‘yes’ and my Mom spoke for me.
They couldn’t rupture the membranes, they were THAT tough
She then told me that on my next urge, give a push, and have a baby.
I could feel that one shoulder was still in… I shrieked, pushed, and felt the shoulder slide slowly out, and then this wet slippery baby slide out of me, totally ‘in the caul’.
It was so cool.
They then sat me back, and handed her to me between my legs… Ais informed me she was a girl.
A beautiful 8 lbs, 22 inch baby GIRL! (Who felt like birthing a watermelon.)
In a few minutes, I have no idea of time lapse, the placenta was birthed, and my doula said she missed the bin, the midwife said that was ok. Everything sort of became sepia, and I thought ‘wow, I don’t feel very good.’
And then, I was at Cirque do Soleil… watching acrobats in green costumes.
And then I felt movement, I opened my eyes and I could see my midwife over me… everything was still in sepia, but I knew my doulas shirt was turquoise… not grey… so something wasn’t right somewhere.
They rolled me on my side, and I started to see colour again, my doulas shirt was back to being its normal shade.
My midwife asked my permission to give me an injection of artificial oxytocin.
I said ‘yes’ and she gave me a shot in the thigh.
And talk about ouch…. Literally spawned a muscle contraction… which I guess I should have known, but OUCH all the same.
That was when I knew I was hemorrhaging. And that I was scaring the crap out of my husband.
I could see the book ‘Spiritual Midwifery’ and I remembered Ina May teaching her midwifery students to tell the mother to ‘stop bleeding’ in an authoritarian tone.
I told myself to stop bleeding, or I know where I’d be heading….
She massaged my uterus, and they re-latched the baby…
It seems to me that within a minute or so she asked my permission to give me another injection of artificial oxytocin. I said yes… although less enthusiastically!
(It was actually 30 minutes later.)
They made me lay on the floor for what seemed like forever… (think half naked, and wet on a bathroom floor…) then they did a lift, and four of them carried me to the bed.
I lay on the bed through the placenta inspection, and newborn exam…which they did all right beside me so I could partake.
I then ate. Traverna Raviolli. (Now if THAT doesn’t beat hospital food, I don’t know what does!)
And then they put in 6 sutures… ironically on the other side from my last tear! (Proof that comfrey kicks butt.)
The next morning I had breakfast, my midwife came, and I felt like I was coming around.
They got me up to take me to the bathroom, up until this point I had been using a potty in the bed! I sat on the toilet, and I was at Cirque de Soleil, again…. Repeat performance in more ways then one.
I woke up, on the bathroom floor, AGAIN, with my head against the toilet bowl, AGAIN.
And I literally said, “Fuck Around.”
Back into bed, back to using the potty, and just eating and drinking…
Later that day we tried again, this time I told them I was going to pass out, and they hauled me off and onto the floor.
So, the deal was… when I could get up, use the washroom, and NOT see Cirque… I could go home. BUT I had to take it easy for a minimum of 5 days.
That took till the next morning.
We’re fantastic though… She has not a mark on her, and came out rooting and feisty.
I didn’t feel polluted, or groggy.
And I feel like I have had this amazing experience… not the romantic waterbirth, by all means. But I did give birth on MY terms. I have found something in myself that I didn’t know was there… at this point I can’t even explain it, but when I can, I will fill you all in.
I have this bumper sticker that says “Women of the Earth, Take Back Your Birth.”
And I keep looking at it….
That’s what I did….
On some level, something that was injured at my first daughter’s birth has healed.
You can heal too….
I totally could relate to this artwork: http://birthlove.cyclzone.com/pages/csec_vbac/meghan.html
Then I met Rebecca Francis, a doula from Seattle. I told her my birth story… in tears. She told me it sounded like I could have used a doula. I learnt what a doula was… what they do… and how to become one. I thought that women should have the option of professional labour support, should they choose it. The outcomes show that there is a serious benefit. Then one morning, not long after, I woke up and thought that while I still wanted to be a doula, why not be part of the movement to give women a completely different choice of care provider…?
I decided to become a midwife…
Within a month of midwifery education… I wanted a baby!
I THOUGHT I WAS INSANE… but nevertheless!!!!
(I have been told this happens a lot… My first daughter had weaned‘officially’ in September, at age two… so I maybe it was biological in more ways than one….)
Needless to say I wanted my care to come from a midwife, and if I qualified, I wanted to have a homebirth.
I found an amazing midwife… Her partner midwife IRONICALLY had lived up the STREET from us when I had my first daughter. (MAJOR kick in the stomach.)
I had a fantastic pregnancy, I felt really healthy, and very pro-active. I received informed choice and consent on EVERY aspect of my pregnancy. I chose to have an initial blood work up for type, Rh factor, Rubella immunity, HIV, and HBV. I had one ultrasound at about 20 weeks. I qualified for homebirth, but was unable to have it in MY home due to the distance and current legislation. For this reason, Neil and I decided to have the baby in my doula's house.
My Mom arrived on July 15th. When I’m close to having a baby, it’s like I wait for her… I ALSO was waiting on newborn sized baby diapers…. They came on the 18th, at that point I knew I was ready to have a baby. All systems were a go… I just lovingly looked at my birth supplies… it was a weird time.
Throughout the 20th and 21st, I had ‘Pre Labour Symptoms’… sometimes referred to as ‘False Labour Symptoms’ by the Medical Model. It is not that stage of labour which is ‘actively’ dilating the cervix… and is therefore not true active labour… but it is preparing and toning the uterus, effacing the cervix, preparing and toning the mother… It’s the jog before the marathon. On the night of the 21st I knew I’d have a baby soon. I felt a lot more pressure, and was moving into the zone… I called my doula for a heads up. She was planning on going out, and was like ‘Eileen, should I be going out?’ And I was like, ‘Yes, go out… just don’t paint the town red because I’m pretty sure I’ll be in tomorrow.’
By midnight on (the 22nd) I was waking up to a contraction every 20 minutes… they were getting stronger, but not closer together. I’d get a good grip for about 15-20 seconds. This was my first experience with normal labour, as last time I had back labour… I would roll out of bed; get onto all fours, and think to myself, ‘this is bizarre, the sensation goes away between contractions.’ I’d then roll back into bed, and literally fall asleep.
At 4am I woke my Mom up, and told her that we needed to get organized to go to the city, I was 10 minutes apart. She was a bit stressed… we didn’t even have our bags packed… we packed… and ate…I had a bath… and then we waited for Neil and our daughter to wake up. At about 7am our daughter was up… so within 15 minutes I went in and said to Neil, ‘You better get up, we need to head into the city, I’m in labour.’
You should have seen the LEAP he did.
It was so ER… get the woman to the hospital… change your pants… like.
Only… we weren’t going to the hospital… and he needed to calm down.
I was like, ‘Relax, just get dressed and get organized, so you can help me with Ais.’
At 8am we were in the truck, ready…
I asked if we had the tubs…
Neil said, ‘What tubs?’
I said… ‘The ones with the birth supplies….?’
Back in the house he went…
PHEW! THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN GOOD!!!!!!!!! (NOT!)
We made it to Rosetown, and we stopped for me to go to the washroom, and get something to eat… the man who was pumping the gas and washing the windows asked Neil if ‘his wife was in labour.’ Neil’s like ‘yep.’ And buddy proceeds to say ‘OH, my girlfriend did that a few weeks ago…’ and tell him the story!!!!
I actually slept between Rosetown and Saskatoon. I was already tired, I told myself ‘YOU NEED TO SLEEP.’ I don’t actually recall any more than ONE contraction between Rosetown and Saskatoon… weird eh?
By 10:30am, we were at my doula’s house.
I had two contractions 10 minutes apart, and then they moved to 8 minutes.
We settled in…
Neil ran to Tim’s to grab me an egg salad sandwich, and then to Booster Juice for a Very Berry Juice, with GO GIRL booster.
While we ate, my midwife arrived to do my blood pressure, take my temperature, and remind me to eat lots, pee on the hour or more, and to just see how I was doing. She also said that she would do a vaginal exam only at my request (I had previously said no VEs in labour), and that she’d stick around, but would only come into my room to check heart tones… Otherwise, she understood I wanted privacy, and would be in the main part of the doulas house, holler if I wanted her.
While we ate, I moved to 5 minutes apart…
We’d all eat, and then I’d hop off the chair…
Mom would hop up, and do the double-hip squeeze, my doula would talk me through the stretch, Neil would encourage me, and our daughter would inform everyone that “her Mom needed to have a baby.”
I ate most of the sandwich, and then we went back upstairs.
That was at 12:30 pm, my midwife and doula told Mom that I’d have a baby by suppertime. I was thinking that while I adored them, they could kiss it!!! I was NOT waiting until suppertime!!!!!
This is when my ability to tell time goes to hell.
I just remember walking… a lot.
We filled the tub, I got into it… I had two contractions, during which nobody could reach me to do the double-hip squeeze… I asked them to help me out… SO MUCH FOR THE WATER. I hated it… it was not an ideal set-up. Lesson learnt.
It was bizarre, when I had a contraction, and after one… I HAD to move. And moving would bring on another one. Bizarre, totally bizarre… I usually was leaning forward but sometimes I leaned back. After one contraction I hit the floor and went into Childs Pose. Everyone was like ‘oh yeah….’ Totally do not know what I was doing… or why, but it worked! There was no slowing me down, or speeding me up… I was completely at the whims of nature and my body.
Nobody told me how to be, where to be… They held the space, and let me labour.
Within a couple contractions my midwife was in the room to check heart tones… I looked at her and asked her to get me a bucket because I thought I might be sick.
She grabbed me the bucket, but it was like I couldn’t vomit up and out… it was just gurgling under the surface, making it to my mouth, and then sliding back down.
^Needless to say, I’m off egg salad and booster juice!
I looked at her and Mom and said that I needed to go to the bathroom.
I sat on the toilet, and BAM, that was when I hit the wall that everyone talks about…
You get that ‘Oh my God, I can’t do this anymore’ and then you start wanting to push… and you are back in charge. I just needed to make it to wanting to push….
I was just glad I knew it was coming… I’d hit the wall, and now I had to scale it… I have no idea how long this part was... to me it’s like a minute of memory, but everyone else assures me it was longer than that!
I sat on the toilet and cried… And then soon after I felt like ‘I give up… I surrender’ and then shortly after I got a sensation that caused me to do a little 3 second grunty push. I looked at my Mom and said, “Mommy help me…” and she started to get upset.
She bent down to hug me… and I literally tried to crawl her. She thought I was giving up… and she didn’t know what to do.
I needed her to get me off the damn toilet.
Communication was obviously breaking down… and I had about 5 seconds of time to speak between urges. It was cryptic.
My doula came into the bathroom and she squatted down to look at my perineum, and then she helped my Mom pull me up off the toilet. She then hollered to my midwife, who was coming into the suite that “we had show,” and that I was starting to push a bit. I was standing in the doorway arms around my Mom, face in her chest… and someone asked if I thought I could move to the couch, so I could rest on it…. I couldn’t talk so I just shook my head ‘no’ and my Mom spoke for me.
They grabbed everything and started hauling it into the bathroom…
Neil came in at some point, and I ended up with my right hand in his hand…
A contraction would hit, I would let out a quick shriek, I would then feel the urge to push for about 3 seconds, and then I’d just stand and moan, and slide side to side.
And then it would happen again.
According to the attendants I only pushed 3 times, but I know it was more like 6 times, they just weren’t there yet!
My midwife told me that the baby was still in the membranes, head out, but that there was a nuchal cord (cord around neck), so she asked permission to AROM (break the waters.) I shook my head ‘yes’ and my Mom spoke for me.
They couldn’t rupture the membranes, they were THAT tough
She then told me that on my next urge, give a push, and have a baby.
I could feel that one shoulder was still in… I shrieked, pushed, and felt the shoulder slide slowly out, and then this wet slippery baby slide out of me, totally ‘in the caul’.
It was so cool.
They then sat me back, and handed her to me between my legs… Ais informed me she was a girl.
A beautiful 8 lbs, 22 inch baby GIRL! (Who felt like birthing a watermelon.)
In a few minutes, I have no idea of time lapse, the placenta was birthed, and my doula said she missed the bin, the midwife said that was ok. Everything sort of became sepia, and I thought ‘wow, I don’t feel very good.’
And then, I was at Cirque do Soleil… watching acrobats in green costumes.
And then I felt movement, I opened my eyes and I could see my midwife over me… everything was still in sepia, but I knew my doulas shirt was turquoise… not grey… so something wasn’t right somewhere.
They rolled me on my side, and I started to see colour again, my doulas shirt was back to being its normal shade.
My midwife asked my permission to give me an injection of artificial oxytocin.
I said ‘yes’ and she gave me a shot in the thigh.
And talk about ouch…. Literally spawned a muscle contraction… which I guess I should have known, but OUCH all the same.
That was when I knew I was hemorrhaging. And that I was scaring the crap out of my husband.
I could see the book ‘Spiritual Midwifery’ and I remembered Ina May teaching her midwifery students to tell the mother to ‘stop bleeding’ in an authoritarian tone.
I told myself to stop bleeding, or I know where I’d be heading….
She massaged my uterus, and they re-latched the baby…
It seems to me that within a minute or so she asked my permission to give me another injection of artificial oxytocin. I said yes… although less enthusiastically!
(It was actually 30 minutes later.)
They made me lay on the floor for what seemed like forever… (think half naked, and wet on a bathroom floor…) then they did a lift, and four of them carried me to the bed.
I lay on the bed through the placenta inspection, and newborn exam…which they did all right beside me so I could partake.
I then ate. Traverna Raviolli. (Now if THAT doesn’t beat hospital food, I don’t know what does!)
And then they put in 6 sutures… ironically on the other side from my last tear! (Proof that comfrey kicks butt.)
The next morning I had breakfast, my midwife came, and I felt like I was coming around.
They got me up to take me to the bathroom, up until this point I had been using a potty in the bed! I sat on the toilet, and I was at Cirque de Soleil, again…. Repeat performance in more ways then one.
I woke up, on the bathroom floor, AGAIN, with my head against the toilet bowl, AGAIN.
And I literally said, “Fuck Around.”
Back into bed, back to using the potty, and just eating and drinking…
Later that day we tried again, this time I told them I was going to pass out, and they hauled me off and onto the floor.
So, the deal was… when I could get up, use the washroom, and NOT see Cirque… I could go home. BUT I had to take it easy for a minimum of 5 days.
That took till the next morning.
We’re fantastic though… She has not a mark on her, and came out rooting and feisty.
I didn’t feel polluted, or groggy.
And I feel like I have had this amazing experience… not the romantic waterbirth, by all means. But I did give birth on MY terms. I have found something in myself that I didn’t know was there… at this point I can’t even explain it, but when I can, I will fill you all in.
I have this bumper sticker that says “Women of the Earth, Take Back Your Birth.”
And I keep looking at it….
That’s what I did….
On some level, something that was injured at my first daughter’s birth has healed.
You can heal too….
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