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March DDC New Babies - Page 8post #142 of 2103/29/13 at 5:33ampost #143 of 2103/29/13 at 7:10ampost #144 of 2103/29/13 at 8:15ampost #145 of 2103/29/13 at 10:19ampost #146 of 2103/29/13 at 1:25pmpost #147 of 2103/29/13 at 3:06pmpost #148 of 2103/31/13 at 3:00ampost #149 of 2104/1/13 at 12:21pmpost #150 of 2104/1/13 at 2:11pmQuote:
I know you mentioned this on fb, but I cant believe how similar our stats are! Our babies have the same birthday, almost the same weight and length, both born at home, and my active labor was only 4 hours, too! Etienne and Shiloh should be friends. :)post #151 of 2104/1/13 at 4:11pm
I'm going to try to type up our birth story quickly - Clayton is napping and DH isn't using the computer right now (he's been doing lots of work from home so I haven't had much computer tiime.)
I woke up in the wee hours of March 22 with twingy cervix contractions and some bloody show so I got all excited, but went back to bed and slept the rest of the night anyway. In the morning I told DH it was probably going to be today or tomorrow, but he should go to work anyway. DD was still on spring break so we hung out for a bit then my midwife called and asked if I wanted a sweep and I said yes. When I went in I was 2-3 cm and very soft and the midwife was able to do a good sweep. My contractions picked up immediately, but soon faded again into randomness. But, they were stronger, and at about 3 I called my sister-in-law to come and get DD because she was getting on my nerves. My doula came over at the same time because I'd talked to her earlier to give her an update and said I was going to take the dog for a walk and she didn't think I should do that alone. So we went and walked the dog - me having contractions randomly and my doula with a sprained and taped-up ankle - the dog was not heartily amused but put up with it gracefully. Not surprisingly, picking up dog poop when you're in early labour is even less fun than normal.
We got back an hour later and my doula figured that my contractions had a ways to go before they'd organize themselves into proper labour and I should take a break, watch some tv and rest. So I did that, and watched some Downton Abbey. At 5 my DH called and I asked him to bring home some Vietnamese food for dinner.
Then 20 minutes later I was on my hands and knees on the couch, realizing I no longer cared if Mr. Bates and Anna hooked up or not, and that I should probably start phoning people. My contractions were suddenly strong and close together - they went from being 9-16 min apart and easily bearable to less than 4 minutes apart and I had to breathe through them. I called my doula and asked her to come back and then I called my former neighbours (fortunately only 5 minutes away) and asked them to come get the dog. They came quickly and removed the dog from the house and Inge stayed with me until my doula got there - then she did extremely useful things like taking out the garbage and washing the pan that was in the sink. Meanwhile, my DH, who had no cell phone, was still picking up dinner. Fortunately he arrived very shortly thereafter and we took off for the hospital. The ride was uneventful but my contractions picked up even more and by the time we got there I was no longer quiet during them... and walking into the hospital was horrible just from the comments. They need a separate entrance for mamas in labour, where random (bored) patients aren't standing around saying dumb-ass things like "Whoa, those are less than a minute apart!" and "That looks like a boy in there!" I realize now that I missed a perfectly justifiable opportunity to swear at random rude strangers, but I was too focused on finding something to lean on to take a break and tell the commentators to shut the f*ck up.
Fortunately L&D is run very smoothly and I was in a birthing room in no time. Because I was a midwife patient I was basically left alone with my doula until the midwife arrived. I needed to pee so I did that - and my water broke on the toilet. After all my worry about it breaking and wrecking my good boots or being somewhere inconvenient - and it happened on the toilet. LOL. And there wasn't much of it, at that. Anyway, my midwife arrived then and I got undressed and onto the bed and she checked me. Everything had been SO painful and intense up until then - my contractions WERE distinctly less than a minute apart, I would guess closer to 20 seconds - and I had thrown up a bit and started to feel pushy, which were both things I associated with transition from DD - that when the midwife said "Ok, you're between 5 and 6 centimeters" the first thing that went through my head was "Oh my god, another 5 centimeters to go - I can't handle this for that long, I need a break" so I politely requested an epidural. Ha! As if. I screamed "GET ME AN EPIDURAL" but was proud of myself for leaving off the adjective in front of "epidural" even though I was definitely thinking it. My midwife said "ok, but you know that takes a while, you'll have to hang in there until the anaesthetist can get here" and I was all miserable but I knew she was right. Then I had another MASSIVE contraction and squidged out a ton of bloody guck and she checked me again and suddenly I was past 7 cm and she told me the epidural was probably not going to happen. So I laboured for a while longer, on my side, hanging onto my doula's hand (fortunately she had big strong hands) while she coached me to breathe so I wouldn't push during contractions. That was SO hard, to just breathe in little puffs while every fibre of my body wanted to crunch up and push with everything I had... but my doula is awesome, and made me stay focused and with her and I was doing okay until I started to lose even the 20 seconds between contractions. Then some bright spark thought to offer me the nitrous - which I'd recalled as not working when I was in labour with DD, but it turned out I just hadn't been doing it right. Once I started really sucking on that stuff, it was all good. It made such a difference - the contractions were still there but I could get through them, and slurping up the gas meant I didn't even have to think about not pushing. I was able to move with the contractions which I think sped things along and in too short a time I was ready to push. Well, physically ready. Mentally not so much. I actually said (well, mumbled) "nooooo I don't want to push, you're going to take my gas away aren't you? please no, just a few more sucks... I love you gas..."
But then my gas was gone and my full consciousness returned and it wasn't happy but it was time to get down to work. I gotta say, after reading so many birth stories where women were on their second births and the first was with an epidural and the second wasn't and they were all "it was so amazing, I could feel the baby moving down" I was expecting to enjoy it a lot more. I will say now, frankly, the whole pushing thing sucked, and especially the part at the end with the extra ouch - you know, the head bit. SO not fun. But at least the pushing part gave DH something to do because he had to hold my leg up when I was on my side (I was like "Really? I'm doing all this pushing and I have to hold my OWN leg up? Um, no.") and I also have to give my midwife huge props for coaching me on *exactly* how to get through the crowning - because I did get the baby's head out eventually, then the shoulders, which were also nastier than I'd imagined, and then the rest of the baby slid out and that was the best feeling in the world because it was OVER. And then he was being put on my chest and DH was exclaiming "It's a little boy!" and I said something hugely witty like "Oh my goodness, welcome little one! And now we have to name you!" because we'd given up on trying to come up with a good boy name and were operating on the 50-50 chance we just wouldn't have to. Anyway, he was healthy and in relatively good spirits for someone who got squeezed through an opening the size of a large grapefruit, but a little bit snorty because the labour had been so fast he didn't have all his snot squeezed out of him. And the first thing he did was to poop all over me, but, you know, you don't care about stuff like that and it's someone else's job to clean it up at that point anyway.
And it didn't take us that long in the end to come up with a name. Clayton Stirling Chow, 8 lb, 8 oz, born at 9:51 pm, March 22, 2013. Named for my father, who died nearly 20 years ago but who would have loved him completely if he'd had the chance, and for his own father, who fell in love with him as soon as he appeared. He's the first boy and last child my sisters and I are likely to produce so the name seemed fitting - and my entire extended family is really happy with it. And thanks to my midwife's skill and Clayton's declining his sister's mode of entry with arm over the head, I had only one teeny tear that wasn't worth stitching and I don't even know where it was supposed to be because I could never feel it. No hemorrhage either, and that was nice.
It's taken me 3 days to type this up... so sorry I haven't been participating much on the other threads! I'll try to get back in the game there.post #152 of 2104/1/13 at 4:30pmpost #153 of 2104/1/13 at 4:36pmpost #154 of 2104/1/13 at 6:53pmSuperb story, Spughy, and hilarious to hear your nuggets of humour interspersed throughout........I know what you mean about being proud for abstaining somewhat from cursing! Clayton Stirling Chow is a strong and interesting name, sounds like he chose it himself. Welcome little man.
Congrats again, please keep us giggling with your newborn anecdotespost #155 of 2104/1/13 at 11:37pm
loved the story and I am soooo glad I am not the only one willing to say ( as I've been talking to my DH and friends about this) that labor f-ing sucks and I didn't find it "enjoyable" but like f-ing laborious and mentally challenging trying to hold my focus during intense, real, wicked sensations and I don't ever want to do it again. This is my third. wish I'd had gas this time...
edit: Spughy, not that you said it sucks, but at least you talked about what it felt like in a way that feels real and resonated with me. Sorry for my rant to those still waiting for labor. This was just my experience this time. Hope you don't think I am an a-hole. Don't mean to be at all.
Edited by writermama12 - 4/2/13 at 4:03ampost #156 of 2104/2/13 at 10:04am
Oh no, it sucked. A lot. I am totally with you there. I am sure other women have different experiences with labour and DO find it all empowering and wonderful and whatnot but for me, it f-ing sucks. Both times. In completely different ways. And I'm not doing it again. I did my bit for DH's and my genetic whatnots and that's it, I'm done.
I think birth is one of those intensely personal things that nobody can tell you how you're supposed to feel about. I think it's awesome that some people really enjoy their natural birth experiences... but I reserve my right to say that for me it ranks well below teenage hormonal wonkiness in terms of Reasons I Am Glad To Be A Woman. Having a squishy baby to cuddle, OTOH, is worth it. In retrospect.post #157 of 2104/2/13 at 11:46am
Spughy and writer-- I can so relate. I repeatedly said to DH in between ctx, "mark my words, I am never doing this again!" I had as "perfect" of a birth this time as possible, but man, was I relieved to be done! After my older daughter was born, I had a huge surge of endorphins and literally felt like I was on drugs, it was awesome. While I was super happy to meet my baby this time, I definitely didn't get my "natural drugs" this time! What the?! Haha. It's amazing how different each birth can be.post #158 of 2104/2/13 at 1:38pmpost #159 of 2104/2/13 at 1:58pm
He's here!! No name yet, born this morning at 2:47am, 8#14oz, 20.5". Totally has his big sisters wrapped around his chubby little fingers Early labor was a little over 24 hours but active labor was less then 5. Went from 6cm to holding him in an hour - it was crazy! I'll type up the details later.
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