I knew all along that I was likely to go well past my due date, since this was my first baby and I was opting for minimal interventions. This foreknowledge, however, didn't help my state of mind when I was 41 weeks pregnant and 50 pounds heavier, and had every single person I knew asking every day if there was any news yet. (Side note to anyone who knows someone having a baby: don't ask this. I PROMISE they will let you know when there is news, there is no need to ask.) Having to repeatedly tell everyone that little baby J was still warm and cozy in my belly started to get very discouraging, like somehow I was letting them down by taking too long. My mom, who was SURE I would deliver early, had been in town for 2 weeks and my in-laws had just gotten into town when I went for an ultrasound and an NST. Everything looked great and we were just getting ready to leave when I remembered to ask my midwife why my belly had gotten so itchy. She was worried about the possibility of a condition called cholestasis, which is salt buildup under the skin and can cause stillbirth. Since I was already 3 cm dilated and James was measuring big, she recommended an induction. I was hesitant, because I REALLY wanted a natural birth and was afraid that Pitocin would cause my contractions to be too intense to manage with the techniques we learned in our Bradley Method class (which I highly recommend to all first-time parents-to-be). But of course I was more interested in a healthy baby, so I agreed to go in later that evening.
My mom, Dustin, and I arrived at the hospital at 6:30 p.m. and spent quite a while talking with the nurse as she entered SO MUCH information on me. Around 8:00 they started my Pitocin drip to get contractions started. I couldn't feel anything for the first few hours, so we watched some Netflix and then decided to try and get some sleep before things really got going. Turns out, it's really hard to get into a comfortable sleeping position with an IV in your hand and monitors strapped to your belly. Finally, FINALLY I was dozing off when I heard the doctors come in to check on me. I didn't know these doctors, as I had worked with midwives throughout my pregnancy, but none of them would be on call until morning. But I tried not to worry; I had a great birth plan on file and trusted they had looked at it. Had they, though? They woke me up to ask how I was doing and if I wanted them to break my water for me. I still can't believe they WOKE ME UP. I was trying to rest before having to work harder than I had ever worked in my life, and I had made it very clear in my birth plan that I was not interested in unnecessary interventions (such as having my water broken for me). I politely declined, but I was fuming as I tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep.
Finally around 3 a.m. I started feeling the contractions. I got up and paced quietly, trying to let Dustin sleep before I really needed him. The nurse helped me into a hot bath as the contractions got stronger, so I called for him to come sit with me. He reminded me of the vocalization technique we had learned in class, so I started to let out a low moan with each contraction. It felt silly, but it seemed to help. When I got out of the tub, I sat and rocked on the birthing ball, resting my head on the foot of the bed, and Dustin applied counter-pressure to my lower back and hips with each contraction. That worked wonders. So far everything was going great; I wasn't even considering asking for the epidural. It hurt, but I was managing just fine.
My midwife came in around 8 a.m. to check on me and it was such a huge relief to have her there. She did a quick exam and found me at 8 or 9 cm dilated. I got in the hot tub again and I had a very mild urge to push, so I tried it out. It felt right. My mom noticed and got me out of the bathtub just as the midwife came in to insist on breaking my water at this point so they could examine it for meconium (newborn poop, basically). If there was any present, the NICU would have to be standing by to make sure the baby didn't have any in his lungs. I said I needed to go to the bathroom first and she told me to be sure not to push while on the toilet. Well, I really REALLY wanted to. I managed to stand up before the contraction came, and there went my water, all over the bathroom floor. But the good news was it was clear of meconium, so no foreseeable need for the NICU!
I laid back down in bed and they let me push at will for about 2 hours. I basically fell back asleep and half woke up to push every few minutes. I was so hot that I refused the hospital gown and lost every bit of modesty I had left. I was vaguely aware of my mom, Dustin, and a new nurse sitting quietly watching me labor. They tried to massage my legs or stroke my face, but I wanted none of it. I only wanted to hold Dustin's hand and have complete silence. Around noon the midwife suggested I start changing positions and pushing harder to get things moving along. So I did. And I was EXHAUSTED (as one might expect after a sleepless night, thank you doctors...). After 5 hours or so of pushing, I was starting to lose my resolve and requested they use the foreceps, the vacuum, give me a C-section, anything to get him out! I didn't really mean it, but it felt better to make irrational requests like that. Dustin gently shook his head no, and the midwife not-so-gently let me know that even if they did resort to using foreceps, I would still need to work at this.
They put a mirror at the foot of my bed so I could see progress as it happened. I never thought I would want to see myself giving birth, but it was surprisingly helpful and quite fascinating. I started to see a tiny little head, and I wondered how it could be taking so long to get that tiny little thing out. Fun fact: babies are born with cone heads, and I was just seeing the tip of the cone. Then came the rest of it. WOW that was a large head. 99th percentile, actually. And at 3:24 in the afternoon, the rest of my perfect little boy came into the world. Well, not so little it turns out! 9 pounds, 5 ounces of Heaven was laid on my chest and I was so in love and so proud of what I had just done and so clueless as to what to do next!
To be continued with the rest of our hospital stay!
My mom, Dustin, and I arrived at the hospital at 6:30 p.m. and spent quite a while talking with the nurse as she entered SO MUCH information on me. Around 8:00 they started my Pitocin drip to get contractions started. I couldn't feel anything for the first few hours, so we watched some Netflix and then decided to try and get some sleep before things really got going. Turns out, it's really hard to get into a comfortable sleeping position with an IV in your hand and monitors strapped to your belly. Finally, FINALLY I was dozing off when I heard the doctors come in to check on me. I didn't know these doctors, as I had worked with midwives throughout my pregnancy, but none of them would be on call until morning. But I tried not to worry; I had a great birth plan on file and trusted they had looked at it. Had they, though? They woke me up to ask how I was doing and if I wanted them to break my water for me. I still can't believe they WOKE ME UP. I was trying to rest before having to work harder than I had ever worked in my life, and I had made it very clear in my birth plan that I was not interested in unnecessary interventions (such as having my water broken for me). I politely declined, but I was fuming as I tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep.
Finally around 3 a.m. I started feeling the contractions. I got up and paced quietly, trying to let Dustin sleep before I really needed him. The nurse helped me into a hot bath as the contractions got stronger, so I called for him to come sit with me. He reminded me of the vocalization technique we had learned in class, so I started to let out a low moan with each contraction. It felt silly, but it seemed to help. When I got out of the tub, I sat and rocked on the birthing ball, resting my head on the foot of the bed, and Dustin applied counter-pressure to my lower back and hips with each contraction. That worked wonders. So far everything was going great; I wasn't even considering asking for the epidural. It hurt, but I was managing just fine.
My midwife came in around 8 a.m. to check on me and it was such a huge relief to have her there. She did a quick exam and found me at 8 or 9 cm dilated. I got in the hot tub again and I had a very mild urge to push, so I tried it out. It felt right. My mom noticed and got me out of the bathtub just as the midwife came in to insist on breaking my water at this point so they could examine it for meconium (newborn poop, basically). If there was any present, the NICU would have to be standing by to make sure the baby didn't have any in his lungs. I said I needed to go to the bathroom first and she told me to be sure not to push while on the toilet. Well, I really REALLY wanted to. I managed to stand up before the contraction came, and there went my water, all over the bathroom floor. But the good news was it was clear of meconium, so no foreseeable need for the NICU!
I laid back down in bed and they let me push at will for about 2 hours. I basically fell back asleep and half woke up to push every few minutes. I was so hot that I refused the hospital gown and lost every bit of modesty I had left. I was vaguely aware of my mom, Dustin, and a new nurse sitting quietly watching me labor. They tried to massage my legs or stroke my face, but I wanted none of it. I only wanted to hold Dustin's hand and have complete silence. Around noon the midwife suggested I start changing positions and pushing harder to get things moving along. So I did. And I was EXHAUSTED (as one might expect after a sleepless night, thank you doctors...). After 5 hours or so of pushing, I was starting to lose my resolve and requested they use the foreceps, the vacuum, give me a C-section, anything to get him out! I didn't really mean it, but it felt better to make irrational requests like that. Dustin gently shook his head no, and the midwife not-so-gently let me know that even if they did resort to using foreceps, I would still need to work at this.
They put a mirror at the foot of my bed so I could see progress as it happened. I never thought I would want to see myself giving birth, but it was surprisingly helpful and quite fascinating. I started to see a tiny little head, and I wondered how it could be taking so long to get that tiny little thing out. Fun fact: babies are born with cone heads, and I was just seeing the tip of the cone. Then came the rest of it. WOW that was a large head. 99th percentile, actually. And at 3:24 in the afternoon, the rest of my perfect little boy came into the world. Well, not so little it turns out! 9 pounds, 5 ounces of Heaven was laid on my chest and I was so in love and so proud of what I had just done and so clueless as to what to do next!
To be continued with the rest of our hospital stay!
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