I am also including a very special read for the faithful out there. Today, though it may seem is Josiah's birthday, it is also MY Birth day. I am including my birth story from Josiah's birth last year. I still love to tell the funny and beautiful events of that day to anyone who will listen. This version I wrote the week after he was born so that I wouldn't forget the details over time.
Josiah’s birth story begins long before he was even conceived, as I am a labor and delivery nurse and have spent considerable time studying the pregnancy and birth process. I have seen countless parents let down by the birth system in America, and I knew that there was something more to this natural body process. So, long before I was pregnant myself, I knew that I was going to strive have a non- or low-interventive birth.
Working at a hospital that capitalizes on intervening during labor, I found myself surrounded by many individuals who thought my concepts of a normal birth were idealized and unachievable, but I knew in my head and in my heart that the Lord designed my body to be able to accomplish the feat of birth. I found comfort in books like Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth and Journey into Motherhood, a collection of natural birth stories. In the weeks that led up to Josiah’s birth, I found myself reading a couple of birth stories a night and surrounding myself with positive thinking. My husband was a great encouragement, because he was very matter-of-fact about how I was able to do it and I was going to do it. About a week before my labor started, I found a scripture in Isaiah 66:9 that says, “’Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?’ says the LORD. ‘Do I close up the womb when I bring to delivery?’ says your God.” This was the icing on the cake for me; I KNEW that I could do this, but I still didn’t know how the story would unfold.
I went to my 37 week check up with my midwife on Halloween, and when she checked my cervix she looked at me with surprise and said, “You are 3cm dilated, 80% effaced, and your bag of water is bulging. You could have this baby at any time! How have you done this as a first time mom?” I proudly left the office as if I had done something to merit such exciting news. My body WAS preparing to have a baby! I was excited to know my baby could be coming at any time, but I also knew that my husband and parents had big commitments over the weekend, and I was the ONLY one excited about a baby that could debut so early. I went home and proceeded with life as normal, making it through the weekend’s big events, including my parents’ party on Saturday night. My husband and I returned home and I laid down on the floor while he finished up work for Sunday. When I stood up about midnight, I felt a trickle that was a little too watery to be normal. I went to the bathroom and found myself laughing in humility, because as a labor and delivery nurse I still couldn’t figure out if my water had broken. There wasn’t a huge gush, and so I consulted my husband and explained I could have a small leak in my bag. He brushed it off and told me we should just go to bed and if it did break then my contractions would start.
I laid in bed for about 30 minutes with my head spinning, still trying to decide if my water broke or not. I felt the urge to sit up, and when I did, it became very apparent my water had indeed broken. I called the midwife who told me to go back to bed and wait for my contractions to start. I knew that fatigue could make the difference in a good or bad labor, so I laid down and tried as hard as I could to fall asleep. My husband had no problem with that, but my mind was spinning at the idea that within 24 hours I would be meeting my baby! It was now 1:15am.
At 2:30 am I felt my first small contraction. Excited, I jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom where I called my mom for the first time to let her know what was going on. I was trying to let my husband sleep as long as possible, since labor can be long and I was going to need a strong support system to make it through this. I stayed on the phone with my mom, pausing only to call my doula and inform her of my labor. While on the phone with her, I had a pretty strong contraction that made me think to ask her to go ahead and come rather than wait. She agreed and I called my mom back. She talked with me as my contractions lengthened from about 10 seconds a piece to 20 seconds, but she was alarmed that they were now coming every 2-4 minutes. I knew that they weren’t lasting long enough to be of serious concern, but within a couple more contractions I was unable to speak through them and unable to stand up. I had migrated to a chair in our bedroom where I slumped my body over the seat while on my knees to ride out contractions. I woke my husband, who immediately saw that things were moving along quite rapidly. He took one look at the way I was bent over and breathing through the contractions that all of the sudden were every two minutes and informed me we were going to the hospital right then. I agreed, knowing that the hospital was 30 minutes away and it was going to be an unpleasant ride. I no longer cared that I had intended to labor at home for a while, since it was my first baby. He called my mom and doula back to reroute them to the hospital rather than our home. At this point, it was only 3am.
We pulled out of our driveway at 3:20, and during the ride to the hospital my contractions came every 1.5-2 minutes. I treasured the time of relief in between contractions, but at some point said to my husband, “I’m not getting my breaks anymore!” I worked through my contractions with breathing like I learned in yoga, but my exhale was less than graceful. I blew out hard and long through my mouth and inhaled deep through my nose. I found myself moving my left forearm in a tomahawk chop rhythm during the contractions, and my husband was scared I was going to send our car into neutral by the way I was hitting the gear shift each time. I was kind enough to then stop my hand before reaching the gear shift, even though I continued with this motion.
We arrived to the hospital at 3:45, and as I hobbled out of the car towards the door, I found myself squatting to throw up. I know from experience that many women throw up as they hit transition at 8cm, and even though it felt nice to bear down while throwing up, I still was thinking I couldn’t be that far along. We got to the labor floor and I spouted out only key words to the nurse, “Water broke at midnight. Clear fluid. Margaret. (my midwife). Waterbirth.” The nurse then informed me that someone was already in the waterbirth room, and since I had to be 8cm to get in the tub, it might be available by the time I was that far along. I wanted to tell her she would be better off kicking the other person out because I was going to deliver first, but instead I just kept breathing and running after my body. We got into the room and the nurse was taking her time, which was annoying to me who could not recline back in the bed. She handed me a gown and I tossed it to the side and informed her and my husband I was going to be taking off all of my clothes. No one argued with me. The nurse, who was casual about my contractions after finding out I was a first time mom, was surprised when she checked my cervix and it was 8cm. I wanted to look at her and say, “DUH!” Though my midwives only use intermittent fetal monitoring, I had to be on the monitor for 20 minutes for them to see that the baby’s heart rate was tolerating labor. I requested a birth ball and rode out the contractions on the ball while waiting for my 20 minutes to pass. My doula and parents arrived shortly after we did, but I was deep into transition, and I was no longer able to speak in between contractions. I had to be quiet and focus, and everyone picked up on that. I was still thinking of things to say in my head, but it was far too much effort to actually articulate them. After 20 minutes of being on the monitor, I sent the doula out twice to retrieve the nurse, who was dragging her feet, hoping to get a longer strip of the baby. Being a labor nurse myself, I could see that my baby’s heart rate was beautiful with no problems, and so finally I just stood up, removed the monitor, and walked to the bathroom where I intended to let the water run on me. I think everyone in the room was a bit stunned, since I am typically a rule follower. Once again, no one questioned me. If I wasn’t going to have a water birth, I was going to at least use the water to get me through contractions.
My doula followed me to the bathroom and helped me adjust the temperature and fill the tub. At some point my midwife came in and I informed her I was feeling “pushy.” She replied, “I figured so,” and sat down on the edge of the tub. My body began pushing on its own, and I begrudgingly had to comply. Some people say pushing is a relief, but to me, pushing hurt! Luckily, I was no longer feeling my contractions as pain in my abdomen, simply as the need to push. I followed my body, and it told me when to push, how hard, and when to stop. I regained my ability to talk in between contractions, and I informed all of my onlookers that I felt like I had been constipated for years. I always tell my patients that the baby’s head felt like having a bowel movement. There was no “like” about this—it was the exact same sensation. I also thanked my midwife for letting me stay in this cramped tub-shower combo, to which she only replied she was sorry the waterbirth tub was taken. I hadn’t intended to stay in the small tub, but I certainly never thought to move once I got there.
As I pushed I could feel my baby’s head stretch my birth canal with the fiery burn that I heard others talk about and then recede in between contractions. I really liked to feel him draw back and offer me some relief. Eventually his head was not receding and I could see him between my legs. His head came out, but there was no contraction to help me push the rest out. The midwife informed me that the cord was around his neck, but she was calm and his heart rate had been fine every time she checked with the Doppler. With one final push I screamed my baby right on out, surprised that the shoulders hurt just as bad as his head. The midwife quickly untangled him from the cord, which was around his neck twice, and put him in my lap. My boy was here! We hadn’t found out the gender of the baby, but I just KNEW it was a boy—so there was a bit of relief to find out I was right! I held him and wondered how such a large thing had just come out of me. We marveled over him for about 5 minutes before handing him to the nurse so the midwife could get me up out of the small tub and to the bed for the placenta delivery. The baby was brought back to me after only a few minutes, and he immediately latched on to my chest, where he stayed for the first hour and a half of his life.
Time ceased to exist during my labor, it was just one contraction and one push at a time, so I was surprised to learn that I had only pushed for 30 minutes. No one ever checked my cervix after the initial time, and no one told me when or how long to push. They simply sat in support of me and encouraged me to listen to my body. I didn’t tear at all, which is rare for a first time mom. I was very grateful for that! My beautiful son weighed in at 7lb 4oz, and arrived at 6:31am, only 4 hours after my contractions began and 4 days after my checkup with the midwife.
I am so humbled to be able to share our birth story with you, and hope that it can be an encouragement to all of you about the normalcy of birth. I am thankful that today’s technology allows us to intervene when necessary, but I am even more grateful for the few and far between practitioners that identify how rarely that is necessary. I am grateful to my midwife, doula, and husband for believing in my body’s ability to give birth, and I am even more grateful for a loving Heavenly Father that brought His good work of creation to completion through my body. To God be the glory for it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment