On Thursday, August 26th, just before 7pm, my water broke. Even though I knew, the second it happened, that it was indeed my water, I just couldn’t wrap my head around that it had happened, because I was so convinced she was going to be in there for another 2 weeks, since I hadn’t really had any prodomal labor at all. (I was on the phone with one of my doulas 15 minutes before my water broke confidently assuring her that I was definitely going to be going to at least 40 weeks…so she thought I was kidding at first when I called her back telling her my water had broken! What is that saying about God laughs while we make plans?)
After my water broke, I called my husband and told him he needed to come home (fortunately he just made the train!), then called my doula, who told me to lay down to see if there was pooling, to make sure it was really my water (since I still was irrationally believing all that water could be pool water!). By the time my husband came home 45 minutes later, I knew it was my water, but no contractions had started; I was just feeling a lot more pressure and a lot heavier in my groin. I made dinner, he walked the dog, I called my midwives’ answering service (which was a fiasco—it took several tries for the answering service to get someone from the office to call me back!), spoke to the doula, and waited. About 2 hours after my water broke, I started getting contractions. I had a few about 5 minutes apart (we kind of estimated, because we didn’t have a watch handy) and then finally started timing them—they quickly became 30-50 seconds long, 1½ to 2 minutes apart, and were accompanied by some really lovely back labor.
We got to the hospital around 11:30 pm; the hospital’s birth center is about 35 minutes from our house; I’d say we probably made it in about 20 minutes, because my husband was convinced we were going to have the baby in the car! I was 3cm dilated and 100% effaced when we got to the hospital. The contractions briefly slowed down when we got there, then ramped up again, along with the back labor. I labored in the tub until around 2am, when they checked me and I was 5cm; I went back in the tub and labored until 4am when I was checked at 6-7cm dilated. The whole time I was laboring my contractions were coming fast, long, and hard, and my back labor refused to abate.
It was utter agony being forced out of the tub to be checked, because my back labor ramped up even more, and the contractions never spaced out. The doctor on call (part of my midwives’ practice, but not the one I liked; unfortunately, they were both out of town this weekend…just my luck!) was really concerned that I wasn’t going to make it through the labor and still have enough energy left to push, and frankly, between the unrelenting contractions and back labor, I could kind of see her point (when I could catch my breath to think clearly!). After some deliberation, I decided to let her give me IV fluids, since I was quite dehydrated, and a dose of Stadol. It was a tough moment for me—I really wanted a natural birth, but at the same time, I needed some sort of respite from the onslaught of back labor and contractions. In the end, I am glad I made the decision to take the Stadol, because it seemed to help organize my contractions—they spaced out a little bit, so that each contraction was much stronger, but it seemed to also be much more effective. I went from 6-7cm dilated to 10cm in about 2 hours.
I pushed for about an hour; one of my proudest moments of the labor was being told by the doctors, nurses, and doula that I was “champion pusher." While maybe they tell all the girls flat on their backs with their legs in the air that, I'm going to take it as gospel. After all, I figure, if you have to have a talent, why not that?
Everything was going great until Eleanor crowned; at that point, things went from excited to deadly serious. The doctor told me I had to stop pushing, because the cord was wrapped around her neck. (My husband didn’t tell me at the time, but he said later that she was blue and still when she emerged.) Fortunately, she hadn’t shown any signs of distress during the labor, and once the doctor was able to cut the cord from her neck, she recovered quickly, although she was still a bit purplish when they first put her on my chest. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, my husband wasn’t able to cut the cord (but was able to “trim” it), and we weren’t able to let the cord stop pulsating before it was cut.
I had also wanted to encapsulate my placenta; however, it turned out my placenta was “medically interesting” and they wanted to send it out. It seems that while Ellie was 2 weeks early, my placenta looked as though it was over 40 weeks, as it had some calcification. Since I didn’t really feel like fighting the doctor, I figured they could do with it as they wished.
I’m finding it hard to write about the experience in any way other than more factual and detail-driven; I think because it all happened so fast (to my mind, anyway) and unexpectedly—2 weeks before I thought she was coming, 12 hours from water breaking to baby arriving, it all seems so surreal. While there is still a part of me that wishes I could have made it through the labor without the Stadol, I know at the time it was the best decision I could have made for myself, and I honestly believe it helped my body organize the contractions so that they were much more effective. I am disappointed that I had such awful back labor—without that, I think I would have really had a much more positive labor experience.
Overall, however, I am just so incredibly in love with my beautiful baby girl, and so happy that I had a wonderful support team to help me though it. My doula was fabulous, and my husband—oh, my husband. He was more amazing than I ever could have imagined. I don’t think I could have made it without him. I feel like such an incredibly lucky woman to have him and my daughter as my family.
Thanks for reading.
After my water broke, I called my husband and told him he needed to come home (fortunately he just made the train!), then called my doula, who told me to lay down to see if there was pooling, to make sure it was really my water (since I still was irrationally believing all that water could be pool water!). By the time my husband came home 45 minutes later, I knew it was my water, but no contractions had started; I was just feeling a lot more pressure and a lot heavier in my groin. I made dinner, he walked the dog, I called my midwives’ answering service (which was a fiasco—it took several tries for the answering service to get someone from the office to call me back!), spoke to the doula, and waited. About 2 hours after my water broke, I started getting contractions. I had a few about 5 minutes apart (we kind of estimated, because we didn’t have a watch handy) and then finally started timing them—they quickly became 30-50 seconds long, 1½ to 2 minutes apart, and were accompanied by some really lovely back labor.
We got to the hospital around 11:30 pm; the hospital’s birth center is about 35 minutes from our house; I’d say we probably made it in about 20 minutes, because my husband was convinced we were going to have the baby in the car! I was 3cm dilated and 100% effaced when we got to the hospital. The contractions briefly slowed down when we got there, then ramped up again, along with the back labor. I labored in the tub until around 2am, when they checked me and I was 5cm; I went back in the tub and labored until 4am when I was checked at 6-7cm dilated. The whole time I was laboring my contractions were coming fast, long, and hard, and my back labor refused to abate.
It was utter agony being forced out of the tub to be checked, because my back labor ramped up even more, and the contractions never spaced out. The doctor on call (part of my midwives’ practice, but not the one I liked; unfortunately, they were both out of town this weekend…just my luck!) was really concerned that I wasn’t going to make it through the labor and still have enough energy left to push, and frankly, between the unrelenting contractions and back labor, I could kind of see her point (when I could catch my breath to think clearly!). After some deliberation, I decided to let her give me IV fluids, since I was quite dehydrated, and a dose of Stadol. It was a tough moment for me—I really wanted a natural birth, but at the same time, I needed some sort of respite from the onslaught of back labor and contractions. In the end, I am glad I made the decision to take the Stadol, because it seemed to help organize my contractions—they spaced out a little bit, so that each contraction was much stronger, but it seemed to also be much more effective. I went from 6-7cm dilated to 10cm in about 2 hours.
I pushed for about an hour; one of my proudest moments of the labor was being told by the doctors, nurses, and doula that I was “champion pusher." While maybe they tell all the girls flat on their backs with their legs in the air that, I'm going to take it as gospel. After all, I figure, if you have to have a talent, why not that?
Everything was going great until Eleanor crowned; at that point, things went from excited to deadly serious. The doctor told me I had to stop pushing, because the cord was wrapped around her neck. (My husband didn’t tell me at the time, but he said later that she was blue and still when she emerged.) Fortunately, she hadn’t shown any signs of distress during the labor, and once the doctor was able to cut the cord from her neck, she recovered quickly, although she was still a bit purplish when they first put her on my chest. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, my husband wasn’t able to cut the cord (but was able to “trim” it), and we weren’t able to let the cord stop pulsating before it was cut.
I had also wanted to encapsulate my placenta; however, it turned out my placenta was “medically interesting” and they wanted to send it out. It seems that while Ellie was 2 weeks early, my placenta looked as though it was over 40 weeks, as it had some calcification. Since I didn’t really feel like fighting the doctor, I figured they could do with it as they wished.
I’m finding it hard to write about the experience in any way other than more factual and detail-driven; I think because it all happened so fast (to my mind, anyway) and unexpectedly—2 weeks before I thought she was coming, 12 hours from water breaking to baby arriving, it all seems so surreal. While there is still a part of me that wishes I could have made it through the labor without the Stadol, I know at the time it was the best decision I could have made for myself, and I honestly believe it helped my body organize the contractions so that they were much more effective. I am disappointed that I had such awful back labor—without that, I think I would have really had a much more positive labor experience.
Overall, however, I am just so incredibly in love with my beautiful baby girl, and so happy that I had a wonderful support team to help me though it. My doula was fabulous, and my husband—oh, my husband. He was more amazing than I ever could have imagined. I don’t think I could have made it without him. I feel like such an incredibly lucky woman to have him and my daughter as my family.
Thanks for reading.
I'm sure his love and respect for you grew by leaps and bounds, too. You did amazingly well, you champion pusher, you!
