Saturday morning I woke up having mild contractions and throwing up. The contractions were nothing new. There had been several days in the weeks before where I really thought I was in labor until the contractions would suddenly break. But this felt different. Bobby, Mom, and I spent our day playing Settlers of Catan and watching Friends while the contractions grew stronger and more regular. By 9pm they were five minutes apart. So I called my nurse and we got our bags together. I took a quick moment to love on Bear and shed a tear as I thought to myself
when we come home, everything will be different. I called Dad and texted my sisters to sleep hard and pack fast, they would need to leave first thing in the morning. By the time we got to the hospital around 10, contractions were three minutes apart and had me doubled over as we crossed the parking lot. The nurse in labor and delivery admitted me right away, even though I was still only 3 cm. We snapped a few last photos of my bump and then settled in, walked lots of laps, and ate popscicles.
I decided to try to sleep around midnight only to be woken up at 2 AM by a pop in a big gush of fluid. My water had broken and it was the weirdest feeling. I wished Bobby could have been awake as I thought to myself in Michael Scarn's over-acted, husky voice, "Clean up on aisle five." This meant I was finally in active labor, and yet suddenly my contractions were irregular and weak. When my doctor came by during rounds, we began to consider introducing Pitocin. Once your water breaks you have 24 hours to deliver naturally before they prep you for a cesarean. And I had spent months preparing for an all natural, no epidural birth. Pitocin, which makes contractions intensify to crippling pressure waves coming one after the other, intimidated me. But I wanted to give myself the best shot. It started at 11am. Within a half hour I was on my knees, hunched over my yoga ball and moaning through each wave. There was hardly time to catch my breath as they began increasing in frequency. Mom's best friend Melinda came soon after and she, mom, and Bobby took turns massaging my back with a tennis ball, bringing me ice, and encouraging me. They were wonderful. By 1pm I was throwing up again, and I was consumed by each contraction. The one thing that really stuck from Hypnobabies was to focus on one contraction at a time, and I focused hard on that thought. By 2:30ish I was in agony. I couldn't find a good position to labor in and my body was so weak from a lack of rest and sustenance (I hadn't held down food in 48 hours). My amazing nurse, Christine, examined me. I told myself that if I wasn't more than 5cm, it was time to ask for an epidural. I was a 5, only half way there and hardly more than at my doctor's appointment three weeks before. I was devastated.
I can't do it, I whispered. Bobby told me how amazing I was doing. Nurse Christine told me she had a feeling things were going to go really fast now. I didn't believe her, but I have her a chance.
She positioned me on my knees on the bed leaning over the raised top, supported by pillows. It was slightly more bearable. She got tough with me and helped me to focus on my breathing and remaining calm. Within a few minutes (that felt like hours), the pressure I had been feeling for a while suddenly intensified tremendously and I couldn't resist the urge to push. She checked again and I was at 8cm. She called in the delivery team and things took off. I was trying so hard not to push, but I was in transition and there was nothing I could do to stop my body. I was sweating and shivering and terrified. Before I knew it I was flipped over and the doctor I'd met only once was putting me in stirrups and telling me it was time to push. A few pushes later Christine said I could feel her head if I wanted.
I'm good, I responded, not wanting to interact with anything below the waist at all. A contraction or two later I felt the first tear. It was a searing white hot pain and I was so sure I was about to meet her. Everything I read about tears said that they happened as you delivered, not as you pushed, they would surely be perineal, and that the nerves would be stretched so tightly you wouldn't even feel them. Nope. The contraction ended and we were still a few away from baby, it was an anterior tear right next to my clitoris (ouch, right?!) and I couldn't stop the horrendous burning sensation. After that tear, my pushes became weaker. With each push the baby moves two steps toward and then one step back as it ends. Just a few minutes later, her head poked out a bit again, and did not retract. Her head was now being squeezed and cutting off oxygen. This is a normal part of birth, but it means the baby has to come out. Fast. They told me I had to push hard and keep pushing until she was free. I cried,
I can't.
You have to, they replied. So I did. And it was really hard. But then suddenly this wet warm blob was thrown onto my chest and I felt such a sense of relief and peace as I drew my daughter into my arms. Bobby cut the cord. Mom and Melinda took the most perfect pictures, capturing the moments I can hardly remember and never want to forget.
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| Violet's first picture |
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| meeting my daughter |
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| daddy cutting the cord |
The next half hour was a blur as they shot my tears with lidocaine and stitched me up. Violet screamed a lot as her vitals were examined and the blood was rubbed off of her, but it was a beautiful sound. Melinda's daughter Amanda had called to get our room number, and she was in line at the front desk unknowingly in front of my dad and sister. She could hear the cries and congratulated us and then told the receptionist my name. That's how my dad found out he was a grandpa. He arrived less than fifteen minutes after she was born. Bobby and I took some time to ourselves once the delivery team finished up. We thanked God for the amazing gift he has blessed us with. We studied her little face in complete awe. Amanda, Dad, and Berkley came up and visited briefly in the L&D room, and then we were moved to the postpartum floor where we had dinner and I finally let everyone else meet and hold sweet Violet.
And as I lay here with her now, a month later, admiring her sleeping smile, I can't help but tear up as I reflect upon that day and the journey of bringing her into the world. It was an incredible experience that I wouldn't change at all. I'm so grateful to be her mommy.
