The Birth of Samuel
Samuel Edward
Saturday July 8th, 2006
9:17 pm
7lbs even and 20” long
In the Beginning
You weren’t scheduled to arrive until the 31st of July. It seems as though you had other plans though.
I woke up shortly after midnight thinking I’d wet myself. And any pregnant woman knows, this is certainly possible, even more likely probable. But as I stood up to run to the bathroom….WHOOSH! I was soaked. Still in somewhat of a sleep induced stupor I continued to believe that it was only a bit of pee. A sit on the toilet told me otherwise. My water had broken. And let me tell you something, a simple pad wasn’t going to hold back this waterfall. So I told your father. He looked at me with shock.
Your Father ~ “Are you sure?”
Me ~ “Uhhhhh…yes.”
And so we decided it was time we paged the midwife, Sylvia. I dialed the number to the paging service…
Operator ~ “Hello. Home Depot.”
Me ~ Silence.
Operator ~ “Oh Sorry. Midwife paging service”
Your ever clever Grandmother suggested that I should have asked for someone in the plumbing department. But anyhow, I digress. Sylvia called back and we made the decision to go into the hospital because we were a few days from a full term (37 weeks) delivery. I had planned a homebirth for you, but planning and doing are two completely separate things. It was unknown if I was positive for Group B Strep or not so we had to start a course of IV antibiotics to protect you in case I was in fact positive. I didn’t mind too much. I had Sylvia put in a saline lock so I could walk around without being hooked up to my dancing partner round the clock (dancing partner = IV pole). My cervix was about 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. But you were hanging out quite high in there at a -3 station.
I was having contractions sporadically. We hoped that they would get stronger and longer and closer together. But they stopped completely. Even walking around the hallways didn’t work. Neither did the birthing ball. Even that crazy poster for breastfeeding from the early 1990’s didn’t scare me into labour either (and I saw that poster at least 100 times on my laps around the labour and delivery suite).
So I went to sleep for a little bit hoping that letting my body rest would allow it to concentrate on the job at hand. I woke at 6 am with contractions every 6 minutes. And then they stopped. Again. There is only so much walking an 8 month pregnant woman can do (especially when faced with that crazy 90’s breastfeeding poster!). So we had a change of plans.
Sylvia decided the best way to treat a stubborn baby was to send its’ mother home to eat, sleep and walk. And she’d meet me there every 4 hours to give the antibiotics through the saline lock. This plan sounded divine.
Ice Cream Saves the Day
We arrived home shortly after 11’ish…12’ish? I don’t remember for certain. But I crashed into bed after a bite to eat. And I slept hard for about an hour. And then I started cleaning a bit. Yet still nothing in the way of contractions. Sylvia arrived shortly before 3 pm for my dose of antibiotics. And then she told me that she’d be back at around 7 for the next dose. As she was leaving I had a contraction that stopped my in my tracks
But then along came raspberry cheesecake ice cream and saved the day. How on earth could raspberry cheesecake ice cream possibly save the day you are probably wondering dear Sam. Because it took a 40 minute walk in sweltering heat to get that tasty bite of heaven, and that 40 minute walk was enough to make my body ready itself for the work of birthing you.
The Labour and Birth
I started into real labour with hard contractions at around 5 pm. Every five minutes the waves crept over my abdomen, forcing me to visualize your birth to cope. I knew there would be a prize at the end of this contest, the contest between nature and my desire to birth you naturally. That prize would be my third and final child, you.
We called Sylvia again (this time the midwives’ clinic was not offering home improvement services) and she told us she’d meet us back at the hospital. So we were back in room 227 by just after 6 pm. And I was indeed diagnosed as being in active labour with my cervix at 3-4 centimeters and 75% effaced. You grandmother brought me an amethyst, a healing stone, and I held it to my belly willing the pain to open my cervix and to bring you to me.
And so I walked. And walked. And walked. And it hurt. It really hurt.
I asked for a rocking chair to labour in. It seemed the most comfortable spot really for me. And so I rocked. And I rocked. And I rocked. And it hurt. It really hurt. But I knew you were coming Samuel.
By 9 pm I was shaking terribly. My legs up on the bed and my body rocking to try to soothe the waves raging through my belly. I asked to have my cervix checked at 9:14 pm.
Sylvia ~ “6 cm”
Me ~ “I’d like to get in the tub”
Sylvia ~ “Absolutely…and I’m going to page Shirin, the backup midwife”
So off she went to page Shirin. Within the minute I knew it was time. I needed to push. That urge is impossible to ignore. I think I may have been yelling that I needed to push, I’m not sure but your dad and grandma were telling me to breathe through it. Someone went out to get Sylvia who had just barely paged Shirin. She came running back in and checked me very quickly and quickly surmised it wasn’t a bath that I wanted, it was to have my baby. She asked someone to ask for help now. A nurse came in and they told me to push. I did. And then I pushed again and you crowned. I felt like I was on fire. Every part of my body was focused into my abdomen. And then nothing else existed and you slipped into the world with not even a sound. The time was 9:17. I don’t remember anything else but feeling your warm body against mine. You were here. You were quiet and content, as every new baby should be. Curious to the world you had entered, you let out one little cry. I finally felt released from that pain that had brought you to me. We had come through this incredible journey together.
Giving birth to you was incredible. It was powerful. And it was empowering. I found a strength within myself that I didn’t know existed. Birthing you was birthing hope. A reminder that there is good in the world. And innocence. So welcome sweet Samuel. I hope your journey here on earth is as beautiful as you.
Samuel Edward
Saturday July 8th, 2006
9:17 pm
7lbs even and 20” long
In the Beginning
You weren’t scheduled to arrive until the 31st of July. It seems as though you had other plans though.
I woke up shortly after midnight thinking I’d wet myself. And any pregnant woman knows, this is certainly possible, even more likely probable. But as I stood up to run to the bathroom….WHOOSH! I was soaked. Still in somewhat of a sleep induced stupor I continued to believe that it was only a bit of pee. A sit on the toilet told me otherwise. My water had broken. And let me tell you something, a simple pad wasn’t going to hold back this waterfall. So I told your father. He looked at me with shock.
Your Father ~ “Are you sure?”
Me ~ “Uhhhhh…yes.”
And so we decided it was time we paged the midwife, Sylvia. I dialed the number to the paging service…
Operator ~ “Hello. Home Depot.”
Me ~ Silence.
Operator ~ “Oh Sorry. Midwife paging service”
Your ever clever Grandmother suggested that I should have asked for someone in the plumbing department. But anyhow, I digress. Sylvia called back and we made the decision to go into the hospital because we were a few days from a full term (37 weeks) delivery. I had planned a homebirth for you, but planning and doing are two completely separate things. It was unknown if I was positive for Group B Strep or not so we had to start a course of IV antibiotics to protect you in case I was in fact positive. I didn’t mind too much. I had Sylvia put in a saline lock so I could walk around without being hooked up to my dancing partner round the clock (dancing partner = IV pole). My cervix was about 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. But you were hanging out quite high in there at a -3 station.
I was having contractions sporadically. We hoped that they would get stronger and longer and closer together. But they stopped completely. Even walking around the hallways didn’t work. Neither did the birthing ball. Even that crazy poster for breastfeeding from the early 1990’s didn’t scare me into labour either (and I saw that poster at least 100 times on my laps around the labour and delivery suite).
So I went to sleep for a little bit hoping that letting my body rest would allow it to concentrate on the job at hand. I woke at 6 am with contractions every 6 minutes. And then they stopped. Again. There is only so much walking an 8 month pregnant woman can do (especially when faced with that crazy 90’s breastfeeding poster!). So we had a change of plans.
Sylvia decided the best way to treat a stubborn baby was to send its’ mother home to eat, sleep and walk. And she’d meet me there every 4 hours to give the antibiotics through the saline lock. This plan sounded divine.
Ice Cream Saves the Day
We arrived home shortly after 11’ish…12’ish? I don’t remember for certain. But I crashed into bed after a bite to eat. And I slept hard for about an hour. And then I started cleaning a bit. Yet still nothing in the way of contractions. Sylvia arrived shortly before 3 pm for my dose of antibiotics. And then she told me that she’d be back at around 7 for the next dose. As she was leaving I had a contraction that stopped my in my tracks
But then along came raspberry cheesecake ice cream and saved the day. How on earth could raspberry cheesecake ice cream possibly save the day you are probably wondering dear Sam. Because it took a 40 minute walk in sweltering heat to get that tasty bite of heaven, and that 40 minute walk was enough to make my body ready itself for the work of birthing you.
The Labour and Birth
I started into real labour with hard contractions at around 5 pm. Every five minutes the waves crept over my abdomen, forcing me to visualize your birth to cope. I knew there would be a prize at the end of this contest, the contest between nature and my desire to birth you naturally. That prize would be my third and final child, you.
We called Sylvia again (this time the midwives’ clinic was not offering home improvement services) and she told us she’d meet us back at the hospital. So we were back in room 227 by just after 6 pm. And I was indeed diagnosed as being in active labour with my cervix at 3-4 centimeters and 75% effaced. You grandmother brought me an amethyst, a healing stone, and I held it to my belly willing the pain to open my cervix and to bring you to me.
And so I walked. And walked. And walked. And it hurt. It really hurt.
I asked for a rocking chair to labour in. It seemed the most comfortable spot really for me. And so I rocked. And I rocked. And I rocked. And it hurt. It really hurt. But I knew you were coming Samuel.
By 9 pm I was shaking terribly. My legs up on the bed and my body rocking to try to soothe the waves raging through my belly. I asked to have my cervix checked at 9:14 pm.
Sylvia ~ “6 cm”
Me ~ “I’d like to get in the tub”
Sylvia ~ “Absolutely…and I’m going to page Shirin, the backup midwife”
So off she went to page Shirin. Within the minute I knew it was time. I needed to push. That urge is impossible to ignore. I think I may have been yelling that I needed to push, I’m not sure but your dad and grandma were telling me to breathe through it. Someone went out to get Sylvia who had just barely paged Shirin. She came running back in and checked me very quickly and quickly surmised it wasn’t a bath that I wanted, it was to have my baby. She asked someone to ask for help now. A nurse came in and they told me to push. I did. And then I pushed again and you crowned. I felt like I was on fire. Every part of my body was focused into my abdomen. And then nothing else existed and you slipped into the world with not even a sound. The time was 9:17. I don’t remember anything else but feeling your warm body against mine. You were here. You were quiet and content, as every new baby should be. Curious to the world you had entered, you let out one little cry. I finally felt released from that pain that had brought you to me. We had come through this incredible journey together.
Giving birth to you was incredible. It was powerful. And it was empowering. I found a strength within myself that I didn’t know existed. Birthing you was birthing hope. A reminder that there is good in the world. And innocence. So welcome sweet Samuel. I hope your journey here on earth is as beautiful as you.
ing from Aug. 06 board:::
