Technically, the birth story begins on Friday, November 19th when contractions started coming every 3 minutes, but that went on for 10 days before the actual active labor began.
On Sunday, November 28th around 2-3pm, I started having contractions about every 4-5 minutes, enough to take my breath away. By 6pm they were getting worse, so we called the midwife (we'll call her T) and let her know. She said she'd keep her cell nearby, and to give her a call if things picked up, otherwise she'd call me in an hour.
An hour passed and things were about the same. When she called, she decided to go ahead and stay home for now, and that she'd call again in a few hours to check up on me. After a hot bath and some dinner, things were only getting worse, so we called her back and she decided to go ahead and come on down to see what was going on. We called Jess (who was going to be in charge of Cordie during the birth) and let her know, and within two hours my midwife, her birthing assistant, and Jess were all there. The midwife checked me when she arrived - 4cm & 95% effaced. Progress!! I started walking and walking and walking, trying to move through the contractions,
and see if we could help things move along. At about 1am, Dan & Cordie went to bed for a bit and Jess stayed awake with me and the midwife, just walking and doing laps around the house. At 3am, the midwife checked me - 6cm, 100% effaced! Alright! More walking!!
At about 7am, all of us ended up in different places in the livingroom dozing off and on. I couldn't sleep through the contractions, but I would briefly nod off every few minutes. Dan had to wake up and take the cat to the vet at 8 for surgery (he had a hematoma in his ear), and when he got back he sat with me while I took a hot bath and the midwife and assistant went to go get breakfast. Dan went to lay back down with Cordie after the bath, and Jess woke up and went outside to walk more laps with me. When the midwife and assistant got back, I was checked - still 6cm. I wanted to cry. Jess & I asked the midwife if she would consider breaking my water; the midwife said she'd prefer to not put me on a time limit, which would be 24 hours from whenever she broke my water, and she would like me to continue pushing things along. I'd already been working for 11 days through this labor and hadn't slept at all in over 24 hours, but what else could I do?
Jess and I woke up Dan and asked his opinion on things, and he seemed upset that things weren't moving along as well as we'd hoped, too. We got Cordie up and dressed and fed, then the four of us went out on a really long walk around the neighborhood to vent and discuss what to do from here. We agreed something had to happen at this point, I was so exhausted and just couldn't bear to think about this going on for much longer. At 2:00, we got back to the house and had the midwife check me again - 6cm. I couldn't believe it. We went for another walk, & decided that when we got back, we
were all going to request that my water be broken - I couldn't bear to keep going like this with no progress.
We got back around 3:00 and I was checked again - 6cm. I just wanted to die. We made the ultimatum, and T agreed after a lot of discussion, though she was extremely nasty about it. Three punctures later, we barely had a trickle of fluid on her glove - either Emmie's head was too low (she'd been at +2 to +3 station for days) or I was pretty low on fluid. I was devastated - that was my last idea for kicking this labor into gear.
We walked and walked and walked some more, and Dan, Jess and I discussed the final plan of action. We decided together that if all that walking with my bag ruptured hadn't changed me, it was hospital time as horrifying as the thought was to me. I couldn't keep going on like this - my hips were giving out from all the walking, I was physically and emotionally exhausted from the labor...this had to end somehow. We got back to the house at 6pm, and T
checked me one final time - 6cm. I wasn't even feeling contractions anymore because of how badly my body was aching from everything. Dan, Jess, and Cordie went into my bedroom to talk by themselves, and I told T our final
decision. She started on the transfer paperwork, and I went back to the bedroom to let Dan and Jess know we would be leaving as soon as T was done. They sat me down, looked at me, and said "No, we're not".
They had decided while we were talking that they would take Cordie with them to Jess' apartment to pick up her things and car, and I would stay at the house and sleep while T did paperwork so I'd have the energy to continue with the labor once we got to the hospital. They were worried sick about Emmie and I. At that point, I broke down on them hysterical sobbing. I just collapsed into hysterics, saying I was a horrible mother, I'd failed Cordie, I'd failed my baby, my body was broken, etc etc etc. Eventually they left, and I slept through the pain off and on from about 8:00 till 10:30 when they got back. When they returned, we packed a bag and I held Cordie and cried, promised her I was going to get her little sister, and Dan, T and I left for the hospital.
When we got there, they set me up in triage on two external monitors for Emmie's heart and to monitor contractions. I was still having them three minutes apart, but they looked really weird - peaking at strange times and the like. The OB on call came in and did an ultrasound to check on Emmie - showed that there was very little fluid (odd considering I didn't lose any when my water was broken), that she was about 5 lbs 2 oz (that scared me, her being so small), & she was indeed about +2 to +3 station. I was sent up to my own room in Labor & Delivery at 3am, where pitocin was started on the lowest level, and they upped it every 15 minutes as contractions didn't look effective enough. I was stuck on my back, not allowed to move except a little to each side, and I hated it. By the time the pitocin hit 12, I was writhing in pain. They came in and checked me at 4:30, and said I was 4-5cm. WTF?? The new OB on call came in and introduced himself to us, and explained that he was going to be putting me on an internal monitor to see what the contractions were doing. If they were effective and not progressing me, it was emergency c-section time, and if they weren't then we'd just keep going with the pitocin route. When he put in the internal monitor, he found a small bulging part of the water, and ruptured it. This time, everything was soaked and tons came out.
The contractions started getting horrific as the pitocin was set higher and higher, and I was just rocking hip to hip on my back screaming and moaning through each one. Around 6am, they came in and checked me again - still 4-5cm, this time proclaiming baby was at -1 station. Um, WHAT? I cried and wailed and moaned through another hour and a half of contractions, and when they came back in at 7:30 right as T had to leave to bring her son to school, I was "maybe a 6, a tight 6". I couldn't believe it, I just wanted to die. I had never experienced so much pain in my life, and it wasn't even DOING anything.
Then the OB pointed out that Emmie's heart had been dipping below 100 with every contraction since we'd broken my water, indicating she
was stressing during contractions. They decided to put me on an oxygen mask, and start fluid replacement therapy into my uterus to pad
the cord in case it was becoming compressed. Even more immobilized, I screamed and wailed and moaned through the unbearable contractions, I couldn't believe this was happening this way. They checked me again at 8:30, and I was still at a 6, and Emmie's heartrate was still dropping dangerously low with each contraction. They started talking about prepping for an emergency c-section, and I started sobbing and begging Dan to get me the epidural. He asked me several times if I was sure, and I kept screaming and moaning and wailing that this was horrific and it was my worst nightmare, that he couldn't understand how much pain I was in. Cordie's birth had been drug-free, I couldn't believe I was asking for a damn epidural. He called to get me the epidural.
Epidural-man came in and had me hang my legs over the bed, and I kept crying about how I'd failed my baby. As I was sitting upright, I
kept having horrific pressure and pain in my crotch through each contraction, and by the time he was just about done putting in the epidural, my body was pushing involuntarily. I started getting hysterical, thinking I couldn't bear another contraction of this pressure and pain along with the contractions, and I asked him when it would start working. He said "It's not?" and then said to give it half an hour, then he'd have to come in and redo it because it hadn't taken. I was horrified. They had me lay back down, and as I was doing it my body started pushing again and I screamed to the nurse "oh god, make it stop, it huuuurts and it's pushing" and she said "What? What's pushing?" and I cried "My body is pushing and it HURTS" and she gloved up and checked me, jumped back, and said very slowly "Don't push". I screamed "I can't HELP IT" and she said "DON'T PUSH. You're 9cm."
I started crying even harder and yelling "Oh MY GOD, THANK GOD" and with the next contraction I cried "I'm still pushing" and she yelled "Don't push, you're not ready!" and I yelled "oh god, I feel her head!" She came flying back over and checked me again, gasped, jumped and ran to the phone and yelled "OB, get in here NOW, she's crowning!" and kept coming over to me and going "Don't push!" and I kept screaming "I'm pushing, she's coming!" The OB made it in there with enough time to put gloves on - I pushed once and Emmie's head came out, once more and her body. Two pushes, and my beautiful miracle girl, my Emmeline Kislev, came into this world screaming and gasping for air. My beautiful, amazing 6 lb 7 oz, 20.5" long miracle girl was finally here - and all I had to do to get her here was **SIT UP** and
change positions, with the help of the pitocin.
After the birth was more drama - they wouldn't wait for my placenta to come out on it's own, 30 seconds after her birth they were doing intrauterine exploration to rip it out, I bled massively and needed misoprotcol to stop the bleeding, the misoproctol gave me a fever and they decided it must be due to a uterine infection and refused to let Emmie and I leave or they'd have CPS waiting for us at the house, so we had to go through 48 hours of antibiotics to get rid of the infection - at the 48 hour blood test result we were given a
clean bill of health and were cleared that neither of us had ever had an infection.
This was NOT the birth I'd dreamed about for my last baby girl - not after the dream birth I'd had with Cordie 15 months prior - no drugs, birth center, went home four hours later...this was a nightmare. My baby girl is healthy and that's what matters most, but it really kills me to think that I'll never have my beautiful homebirth I'd dreamed about & planned for. Even almost 7 weeks later, I still feel like I failed her.
On Sunday, November 28th around 2-3pm, I started having contractions about every 4-5 minutes, enough to take my breath away. By 6pm they were getting worse, so we called the midwife (we'll call her T) and let her know. She said she'd keep her cell nearby, and to give her a call if things picked up, otherwise she'd call me in an hour.
An hour passed and things were about the same. When she called, she decided to go ahead and stay home for now, and that she'd call again in a few hours to check up on me. After a hot bath and some dinner, things were only getting worse, so we called her back and she decided to go ahead and come on down to see what was going on. We called Jess (who was going to be in charge of Cordie during the birth) and let her know, and within two hours my midwife, her birthing assistant, and Jess were all there. The midwife checked me when she arrived - 4cm & 95% effaced. Progress!! I started walking and walking and walking, trying to move through the contractions,
and see if we could help things move along. At about 1am, Dan & Cordie went to bed for a bit and Jess stayed awake with me and the midwife, just walking and doing laps around the house. At 3am, the midwife checked me - 6cm, 100% effaced! Alright! More walking!!
At about 7am, all of us ended up in different places in the livingroom dozing off and on. I couldn't sleep through the contractions, but I would briefly nod off every few minutes. Dan had to wake up and take the cat to the vet at 8 for surgery (he had a hematoma in his ear), and when he got back he sat with me while I took a hot bath and the midwife and assistant went to go get breakfast. Dan went to lay back down with Cordie after the bath, and Jess woke up and went outside to walk more laps with me. When the midwife and assistant got back, I was checked - still 6cm. I wanted to cry. Jess & I asked the midwife if she would consider breaking my water; the midwife said she'd prefer to not put me on a time limit, which would be 24 hours from whenever she broke my water, and she would like me to continue pushing things along. I'd already been working for 11 days through this labor and hadn't slept at all in over 24 hours, but what else could I do?
Jess and I woke up Dan and asked his opinion on things, and he seemed upset that things weren't moving along as well as we'd hoped, too. We got Cordie up and dressed and fed, then the four of us went out on a really long walk around the neighborhood to vent and discuss what to do from here. We agreed something had to happen at this point, I was so exhausted and just couldn't bear to think about this going on for much longer. At 2:00, we got back to the house and had the midwife check me again - 6cm. I couldn't believe it. We went for another walk, & decided that when we got back, we
were all going to request that my water be broken - I couldn't bear to keep going like this with no progress.
We got back around 3:00 and I was checked again - 6cm. I just wanted to die. We made the ultimatum, and T agreed after a lot of discussion, though she was extremely nasty about it. Three punctures later, we barely had a trickle of fluid on her glove - either Emmie's head was too low (she'd been at +2 to +3 station for days) or I was pretty low on fluid. I was devastated - that was my last idea for kicking this labor into gear.
We walked and walked and walked some more, and Dan, Jess and I discussed the final plan of action. We decided together that if all that walking with my bag ruptured hadn't changed me, it was hospital time as horrifying as the thought was to me. I couldn't keep going on like this - my hips were giving out from all the walking, I was physically and emotionally exhausted from the labor...this had to end somehow. We got back to the house at 6pm, and T
checked me one final time - 6cm. I wasn't even feeling contractions anymore because of how badly my body was aching from everything. Dan, Jess, and Cordie went into my bedroom to talk by themselves, and I told T our final
decision. She started on the transfer paperwork, and I went back to the bedroom to let Dan and Jess know we would be leaving as soon as T was done. They sat me down, looked at me, and said "No, we're not".
They had decided while we were talking that they would take Cordie with them to Jess' apartment to pick up her things and car, and I would stay at the house and sleep while T did paperwork so I'd have the energy to continue with the labor once we got to the hospital. They were worried sick about Emmie and I. At that point, I broke down on them hysterical sobbing. I just collapsed into hysterics, saying I was a horrible mother, I'd failed Cordie, I'd failed my baby, my body was broken, etc etc etc. Eventually they left, and I slept through the pain off and on from about 8:00 till 10:30 when they got back. When they returned, we packed a bag and I held Cordie and cried, promised her I was going to get her little sister, and Dan, T and I left for the hospital.
When we got there, they set me up in triage on two external monitors for Emmie's heart and to monitor contractions. I was still having them three minutes apart, but they looked really weird - peaking at strange times and the like. The OB on call came in and did an ultrasound to check on Emmie - showed that there was very little fluid (odd considering I didn't lose any when my water was broken), that she was about 5 lbs 2 oz (that scared me, her being so small), & she was indeed about +2 to +3 station. I was sent up to my own room in Labor & Delivery at 3am, where pitocin was started on the lowest level, and they upped it every 15 minutes as contractions didn't look effective enough. I was stuck on my back, not allowed to move except a little to each side, and I hated it. By the time the pitocin hit 12, I was writhing in pain. They came in and checked me at 4:30, and said I was 4-5cm. WTF?? The new OB on call came in and introduced himself to us, and explained that he was going to be putting me on an internal monitor to see what the contractions were doing. If they were effective and not progressing me, it was emergency c-section time, and if they weren't then we'd just keep going with the pitocin route. When he put in the internal monitor, he found a small bulging part of the water, and ruptured it. This time, everything was soaked and tons came out.
The contractions started getting horrific as the pitocin was set higher and higher, and I was just rocking hip to hip on my back screaming and moaning through each one. Around 6am, they came in and checked me again - still 4-5cm, this time proclaiming baby was at -1 station. Um, WHAT? I cried and wailed and moaned through another hour and a half of contractions, and when they came back in at 7:30 right as T had to leave to bring her son to school, I was "maybe a 6, a tight 6". I couldn't believe it, I just wanted to die. I had never experienced so much pain in my life, and it wasn't even DOING anything.
Then the OB pointed out that Emmie's heart had been dipping below 100 with every contraction since we'd broken my water, indicating she
was stressing during contractions. They decided to put me on an oxygen mask, and start fluid replacement therapy into my uterus to pad
the cord in case it was becoming compressed. Even more immobilized, I screamed and wailed and moaned through the unbearable contractions, I couldn't believe this was happening this way. They checked me again at 8:30, and I was still at a 6, and Emmie's heartrate was still dropping dangerously low with each contraction. They started talking about prepping for an emergency c-section, and I started sobbing and begging Dan to get me the epidural. He asked me several times if I was sure, and I kept screaming and moaning and wailing that this was horrific and it was my worst nightmare, that he couldn't understand how much pain I was in. Cordie's birth had been drug-free, I couldn't believe I was asking for a damn epidural. He called to get me the epidural.
Epidural-man came in and had me hang my legs over the bed, and I kept crying about how I'd failed my baby. As I was sitting upright, I
kept having horrific pressure and pain in my crotch through each contraction, and by the time he was just about done putting in the epidural, my body was pushing involuntarily. I started getting hysterical, thinking I couldn't bear another contraction of this pressure and pain along with the contractions, and I asked him when it would start working. He said "It's not?" and then said to give it half an hour, then he'd have to come in and redo it because it hadn't taken. I was horrified. They had me lay back down, and as I was doing it my body started pushing again and I screamed to the nurse "oh god, make it stop, it huuuurts and it's pushing" and she said "What? What's pushing?" and I cried "My body is pushing and it HURTS" and she gloved up and checked me, jumped back, and said very slowly "Don't push". I screamed "I can't HELP IT" and she said "DON'T PUSH. You're 9cm."
I started crying even harder and yelling "Oh MY GOD, THANK GOD" and with the next contraction I cried "I'm still pushing" and she yelled "Don't push, you're not ready!" and I yelled "oh god, I feel her head!" She came flying back over and checked me again, gasped, jumped and ran to the phone and yelled "OB, get in here NOW, she's crowning!" and kept coming over to me and going "Don't push!" and I kept screaming "I'm pushing, she's coming!" The OB made it in there with enough time to put gloves on - I pushed once and Emmie's head came out, once more and her body. Two pushes, and my beautiful miracle girl, my Emmeline Kislev, came into this world screaming and gasping for air. My beautiful, amazing 6 lb 7 oz, 20.5" long miracle girl was finally here - and all I had to do to get her here was **SIT UP** and
change positions, with the help of the pitocin.
After the birth was more drama - they wouldn't wait for my placenta to come out on it's own, 30 seconds after her birth they were doing intrauterine exploration to rip it out, I bled massively and needed misoprotcol to stop the bleeding, the misoproctol gave me a fever and they decided it must be due to a uterine infection and refused to let Emmie and I leave or they'd have CPS waiting for us at the house, so we had to go through 48 hours of antibiotics to get rid of the infection - at the 48 hour blood test result we were given a
clean bill of health and were cleared that neither of us had ever had an infection.
This was NOT the birth I'd dreamed about for my last baby girl - not after the dream birth I'd had with Cordie 15 months prior - no drugs, birth center, went home four hours later...this was a nightmare. My baby girl is healthy and that's what matters most, but it really kills me to think that I'll never have my beautiful homebirth I'd dreamed about & planned for. Even almost 7 weeks later, I still feel like I failed her.
What she said.
