This birth took place last July. I haven't shared the story previously, because I thought I might publish it. (I published my first in Midwifery Today.) However, after sitting on it awhile, I just feel it is too personal in nature to publish under my name. I'll publish it here anonymously, so perhaps others can learn from it. I had planned an Unassisted Birth, but learned from the process that I wasn't ready for an unassisted birth. I had issues held on from adolescence and early adulthood to resolve. It wasn't a dream birth, but it was a healing birth - and I hope perhaps others who read it and relate might find healing as well and not need to go through what I have. I hope you enjoy it!
10 Years, 10 Centimeters
A birth story, A coming of age story
This birth story does not begin with contractions, show or ruptured membranes. It begins 10 years prior to that with one fateful moment. Riding home from driver’s education the summer after her 17th birthday, a young girl’s father pulled his old blue Dodge over and asked her if she wanted to drive. Minutes later the Dodge was wrapped around a tree, and she was on her way to the emergency room in an ambulance. Notoriously phobic about needles and medical procedures, the extensive examination she endured was quite an ordeal. She had suffered no significant injury from the accident, but a catscan had revealed a tumor the size of a baseball growing on her right ovary.
With that discovery the innocent girl of 17 was thrust into the grown up world of womanhood. Her first trip to the gynecologist was clearly traumatic. That secret part of herself which should have been coaxed open by the tender care of a future lover was forced open with cold steel. She had little understanding at the time of the personal significance of that event. She simply knew it had hurt, and a repeat insult to her body was scheduled a few weeks away.
She shed quite a few tears that summer and insulated herself against the attacks on her delicate psyche. Though she appeared of somewhat easy going and optimistic nature, those who knew her better knew she could be intense, somewhat stubborn, and reserved her tears for private, rather than risk injury to her pride by allowing others to see her suffering. The dermoid tumor was removed by laproscopic surgery. Everything blessedly went well, and between the gynecological exams that occurred every six months, she was able to put the entire ordeal behind her.
Or so she thought…
She was married at 23. She had saved herself for marriage, and her wedding night found her as eager for connubial union as her lover. But despite the silent pleas to her body to open and admit, she felt her body reacting as it had that first day at the gynecologist. Close to tears she sighed and announced that she was simply too tired and wanted to wait until the morning. She closed her eyes and tried to drive out the bitter disappointment with sleep.
She didn’t wait until morning. Her husband told her if they were going to start back up again, then she was going to have to let him “do it”. She did. And there was a sweet sacred moment of utter openness… followed by silent prayers that it would be over soon. She rolled over toward the window and quietly shed her bitter tears. She had read enough “Glamour” magazine to know that was not how it was supposed to be. And yet with the invincibility of youth she rolled back to her husband determined to practice until she got it right.
It would be several years until she realized that very few arts worth mastering are mastered upon the first try, and first tries – at kissing, lovemaking or birth – are not nearly as important as young women of high sensibility would have them be.
Her daughter was born when she was 25. After she had moved away from her childhood home, she had never returned to the gynecologist. Somehow she just could not bring herself to seek out another. In fact, she was rather determined never to have children, until she learned that babies could be born at home. And it was easy to join the homebirth movement when they found such fault with the very doctors and hospitals of which she was so afraid.
She had a wonderful pregnancy and enjoyed getting to know her midwife. She had high hopes for her first birth. Alas, it was a very difficult homebirth. This time it was not the outlet to her body, but the outlet to her womb that gave her trouble. Afterwards she had nursing difficulties, a colicky baby, and post traumatic stress.
Again youthful determination took hold. She would try again. This time she practiced hypnosis through the Hypnobabies childbirth education program. She would never suffer the way she had with her daughter again. But there were odd sign posts throughout this pregnancy. A peculiar dream in which she saw her homebirth supplies and pages of a birth plan swirling around her, and she understood it to mean she should not get too attached to her plans. She marveled at the ladies in her Hypnobabies group who claimed to have painless, peaceful births at the hospital. She just couldn’t believe it could be true. She was quite sure she could never open to give birth in a hospital. She was even challenged in a midwifery forum to get over her fear of obstetrics – a thought she found most absurd at the time. Her fears seemed entirely justified, and she had no desire to get over them.
She didn’t find a homebirth midwife locally as she had moved since her previous birth. She had an unassisted pregnancy and planned an unassisted birth. She decided to fly down her original midwife for emotional support (she was kind of attached to the idea of having the same people present as for her daughter’s birth). She knew with that plan it was possible she would deliver without her friend, but she was comfortable with that possibility.
Throughout her pregnancy she had the thought that she was going to deliver early, so when contractions began at 36 weeks, she was not surprised. She knew the best chance at having her friend present for the birth was to fly her down during early labor. When she had had moderately strong contractions 5 minutes apart for several hours of the early morning; she had her husband call for her friend.
But by noon the contractions had spaced sporadically, and she was quite frustrated. Over the next few days she continued to have bouts of regular contractions for several hours, and then they would stop. Her friend was going to have to go home soon, and she was not happy about the eventuality of being stuck without any back up – the local hospital was notoriously interventive and archaic. She had bouts of labor for several weeks with her first and had ended up with an induction at home because of poor heartbeats. She did not want a repeat performance of her previous labor experience. She tried herbs, castor oil, breast pump… after one night of particular hard labor, she even got to the point of pushing, but then she discovered a cervical lip in the way. Her contractions had stopped and didn’t resume. After pushing her flight back twice, a week after her arrival, her friend had to go home.
No contractions, waters ruptured, she had to make a choice. After a good night’s sleep, she and her husband decided to see a doctor. They called an obstetrician who was highly recommended by their friends. He agreed to see her at the hospital. The experience was surreal, but by this point she was very ready to have her baby. She knew the most likely course of action would be pitocin. She knew most women reported pitocin contractions to be more painful than regular labor contractions. But she also knew some hypnomoms had had inductions with just hypnosis. She could not tolerate the idea of a needle in her back, so she determined that she could do it with her Hypnobabies. If it came down to it, she would take a little Dermerol.
Her first impressions of the hospital were not favorable. The nurse was very pushy and insisted that she could not bring her husband to the labor and delivery room until they had done an initial interview. They prepped her for labor and delivery before she had even met the doctor, insisting upon a vaginal exam, fetal monitor, and IV. She forced herself to remain relaxed and wait for the interview with the doctor, consoling herself with the fact that she could always leave if she found what he had to say objectionable.
When the doctor came in, the situation improved. She liked him very much. He listened to her concerns and was very optimistic about a natural delivery. He reported a very low personal cesarean rate, though the hospital’s was far from acceptable. He had nothing objectionable to say about her using hypnosis. He said she was at 3 cm, 50% effaced and suggested pitocin due to prolonged rupture of membranes. It was nearing 1 pm. He looked at the clock and predicted delivery around 10 pm.
The pushy nurse mellowed after the conversation with the doctor and after several hours expressed her hope that the baby would come before 7 pm when her shift ended. Mom observed her labor as if somewhat detached. She could see the destructive tendencies of the hospital – the continuous monitoring and IV which reduced her mobility, being given only ice chips to eat or drink, the hollering of a woman in another room, and the repeated interruptions of her concentration. Yet these things only seemed to affect her marginally. She was in her own inner world of Hypnobabies and a fierce determination to bring her baby swiftly and easily into the world.
She did not birth before the first nurse had to leave, and she got two new nurses who were less agreeable though less aggressive in nature. Eventually she realized the aversion to their presence was because they acted as if she were just any laboring woman – they had no interest in getting to know her or understanding the way she labored. She quickly decided she had no more interest in them than they had in her, and feigned concentration in labor to avoid further need for attempted conversation. And it wasn’t long until she really needed that concentration.
Her first vaginal check mid-afternoon had shown her to be at 5 cm. She was a little disappointed when a check around 8pm showed her to be just 7 cm. Forgetting that “1cm an hour” is an average, she feared that the next 3 cm would take her well into the night. That vaginal check marked a change in the course of labor. The water that leaked out was stained with dark brown mecomium. The doctor explained that he would have to a have a team from neonatology on hand for the delivery. He would cut the cord immediately and hand the baby to them for inspection rather than pass him to her. Mom wasn’t happy about that, but she was not very concerned. She new mecomium was somewhat common. The baby’s heartbeat was excellent thus far. She figured they would probably suction, but see that her baby was fine, and he would be with her shortly. She would learn that you never assume anything with the hospital.
The doctor told her she was doing great, and he would not be increasing the dosage of pitocin. But one of the nurses walked by and told her she had just increased the dosage. She told her husband to talk to the doctor and make sure they did not increase the dosage anymore. Her contractions were intense enough.
They asked her to lay on her side and wear an oxygen mask for the benefit of the baby. The mask was very hot and uncomfortable. The bed was very hard an uncomfortable. She had multiple tubes and wires connected to her, which made her uncomfortable. She began to feel somewhat depressed that her situation was starting to interfere with her ability to cope with the intensity of her contractions.
Her neighbors brought her daughter in to see her. She pulled off the oxygen mask and smiled. She talked with her baby girl, trying to reassure her that mama was just fine. She wished she could do away with the mechanization of her labor, so she could hold her baby girl. She was glad they had not waited longer to come, because she could feel she was entering a phase of new intensity with her labor.
She could not get comfortable. The hypnosis had worked wonderfully throughout this labor. She wouldn’t say it was truly “painless,” but she had not suffered. But now she was finding it difficult to relax completely with her contractions. She squirmed and shed some tears. She didn’t want to use any drugs, wanting to avoid exposing the baby to anything that could give the hospital reason to keep her baby from her. But she couldn’t see how she was going to manage not being able to move about and labor naturally. She asked her husband to look up in their Hypnobabies manual the side effects of Demerol.
He never found a reference. She sat up and whined that she needed “all this crap off of me.” She asked for the Demerol. The nurse came in and said the doctor preferred Stadol, better for the baby. She didn’t care what it was, she just wanted some rest. She didn’t want to be confined to a bedpan, so the nurse took the trappings off her, and her husband helped her to the bathroom while the nurse went for the drugs. As she sat upon the toilet she felt for the first time that she was really laboring. She knew within herself she would not have needed the drugs if she had been allowed to move about. Sitting upon the bed, she moaned soft and low with the contractions. It felt good to sit like that. She started to shiver and recognized that she was in transition. She asked for a blanket around her shoulders. And she thought that she probably didn’t even need the drugs if she was in transition. But they were already giving them to her, and she really didn’t mind anticipating the sweet release that would come when the drug dulled her senses.
As the drug kicked in, they helped her lie back. She found herself back in that place of observation. How curious was the effect of the drug. She could barely move a muscle! (And her husband told her later they had only given her ½ the dose!) She continued to listen to her hypnosis CDs and found them very soothing. She could feel the contractions and feel that they were intense, but she couldn’t fight them. It was if she was in that semi-alert state when trying to awake from a deep sleep. She was thirsty, but she could only whisper “ice” to her husband, and hold her mouth open. It was too difficult to try to communicate.
The doctor came in to check her dilation. She could barely move her leg over. She was 8-9 cm. She wasn’t sure if he told her or her husband, but she heard the doctor say that when the drug wore off she would be ready to push. That announcement was so soothing. She hadn’t a fear left in the world. Her husband told her she only had the drug for about 20 minutes. She couldn’t have been happier with the choice. She made it through the entire labor without suffering, without screaming, without a curse or wicked thought – despite the many obstacles of the hospital environment; she had the very labor she had wanted!
As the drug started to wear off, she did start feel like pushing. But remember the advice her first nurse had given her upon saying her goodbyes, she waited a few contractions until she really felt she had to push. Her husband asked her if he should get the doctor. “No,” she said, “let’s wait another contraction or two.”
With the next contraction, she gave a little push at the peak. Whoa! She felt the baby move quickly. She had the brief thought of rushing to the bathroom to deliver the baby herself. She had heard of a hypno-mom that did that on accident. But she quickly realized that this baby was coming way to fast for such theatrics.
“Get the doctor! Get the doctor!” she panted.
Her husband reached for the call button.
“No, get the doctor!” Her insistence propelled him through the door.
The nurses came in. One wanted to check her. She got a contraction and needed to push. “Get out! Get out”
“No, let me check you. I need to check…”
“No, get out! Trust me; I have to push!” She swung her legs shut. Was that a huff she heard from the nurse?
The nurse started to lower the bed down. They wanted her to push on her back? Are they crazy?! “Nooooo!” she cried and held the button on the bed raising herself up to a sitting position.
They broke down the bed, flipped up some stirrups for her feet, and the doctor plopped down to catch the baby. She stretched her body up, pressing down with her hands on the bed, raised her butt off the hard mattress and roared out her baby. She found it funny that she had labored so quietly and now was enjoying such a release by hollering. She felt sorry if some other lady was in another room scared by her screaming. This was not a scary experience. It felt so great to bellow!
The over whelming feeling was not pain, but very intense pressure in her rectum. She was momentarily relieved by pushing out the head, but then insulted by the pressure once again. Her first baby was born without rotating, so she had not experienced the pressure of the shoulders in her rectum. She was rather irritated to be feeling that pressure once again. Another big strong push, and her baby boy was born!
She could see that he was beautiful. A full head of blondish, reddish, brownish – what was it? – hair. He gave a lusty cry, and she lay her head back relieved, knowing he was doing well. She delivered the placenta quickly. She had requested no cord traction, and she wanted it out so there would be no temptation. With the first contraction she felt, she pushed, and she was rather shocked at how large it felt in a land birth (her first had been under water). The doctor held it up slightly, and she saw it was perfectly formed like a picture in a book. They saved it for her to take home to burry.
She had no tears – but even more she was glad to have evaded the surgical knife. The baby had been born at 10:11pm after just 10 minutes of pushing. He weighed 6 lbs 11 oz, and was 18.5 inches long. The adrenaline flowed high at having achieved such a nice birthing – in the hospital?! Who knew it could be done!
But the baby was not making out so well. They suctioned him so roughly that even though his APGAR scores were 8 and 9, he could barely breathe after they were done with him. They gave him to his mother for just a moment, and she looked at him frustrated that she had not paid better attention to protecting him from assault. They took him to the NICU for oxygen therapy. He only needed the oxygen for a few hours, but ended up finding an excuse to keep him for 5 days. The NICU policies were not family and breastfeeding friendly.
But mom felt strong after the birth. She was up and dressed before the doctor came to see her the next morning, eager to be checked out so she could see to her baby. She was amazed that she did not have any complaints whatsoever other than an occasional afterpain. Her strength was needed. She was prevented from taking her baby home, but she insisted on exclusive breastfeeding. She and her husband were instilled in the only family sleep room in the entire NICU, to stay with their baby and see to his care. Breastfeeding had been delayed past the crucial 12 hour point, but with patience and determination, she was able to get off to a good start.
At 6 weeks post partum, she went for her first gynecological exam in over 4 years. She was struck by the respectfulness of the doctor and staff. She had figured after 2 kids the examination would hardly be as painful as she remembered. She was delighted to find even the speculum exam painless. As she talked to the doctor, she was gratified to find him very agreeable. He admitted to her that he knew when he discovered the mecomium that the NICU was going to keep her baby – the quirks of that particular unit. He had wisely not shared that information with the laboring woman. It made her sad that her baby had not been treated more conservatively and sad that the NICU staff did not place greater importance upon breastfeeding. The issue needed to be addressed.
As she left the doctor’s office that day, she felt the significance of what had just transpired. She had needed this birth experience. It was much more than just a conquered fear. It was a healing. She wondered that in all the literature she had read she had failed to realize that coming of age did not occur during some magic moment in the teenage years. What had commenced at 17 was accomplished at 27. Like the slow opening of the cervix, over the course of 10 years she had blossomed into a woman – open body, mind, heart and soul. A matron of over 4 year, a mother for almost 2, she kissed her maidenhood good-bye and turned her eye toward the robust years of motherhood ahead.
10 Years, 10 Centimeters
A birth story, A coming of age story
This birth story does not begin with contractions, show or ruptured membranes. It begins 10 years prior to that with one fateful moment. Riding home from driver’s education the summer after her 17th birthday, a young girl’s father pulled his old blue Dodge over and asked her if she wanted to drive. Minutes later the Dodge was wrapped around a tree, and she was on her way to the emergency room in an ambulance. Notoriously phobic about needles and medical procedures, the extensive examination she endured was quite an ordeal. She had suffered no significant injury from the accident, but a catscan had revealed a tumor the size of a baseball growing on her right ovary.
With that discovery the innocent girl of 17 was thrust into the grown up world of womanhood. Her first trip to the gynecologist was clearly traumatic. That secret part of herself which should have been coaxed open by the tender care of a future lover was forced open with cold steel. She had little understanding at the time of the personal significance of that event. She simply knew it had hurt, and a repeat insult to her body was scheduled a few weeks away.
She shed quite a few tears that summer and insulated herself against the attacks on her delicate psyche. Though she appeared of somewhat easy going and optimistic nature, those who knew her better knew she could be intense, somewhat stubborn, and reserved her tears for private, rather than risk injury to her pride by allowing others to see her suffering. The dermoid tumor was removed by laproscopic surgery. Everything blessedly went well, and between the gynecological exams that occurred every six months, she was able to put the entire ordeal behind her.
Or so she thought…
She was married at 23. She had saved herself for marriage, and her wedding night found her as eager for connubial union as her lover. But despite the silent pleas to her body to open and admit, she felt her body reacting as it had that first day at the gynecologist. Close to tears she sighed and announced that she was simply too tired and wanted to wait until the morning. She closed her eyes and tried to drive out the bitter disappointment with sleep.
She didn’t wait until morning. Her husband told her if they were going to start back up again, then she was going to have to let him “do it”. She did. And there was a sweet sacred moment of utter openness… followed by silent prayers that it would be over soon. She rolled over toward the window and quietly shed her bitter tears. She had read enough “Glamour” magazine to know that was not how it was supposed to be. And yet with the invincibility of youth she rolled back to her husband determined to practice until she got it right.
It would be several years until she realized that very few arts worth mastering are mastered upon the first try, and first tries – at kissing, lovemaking or birth – are not nearly as important as young women of high sensibility would have them be.
Her daughter was born when she was 25. After she had moved away from her childhood home, she had never returned to the gynecologist. Somehow she just could not bring herself to seek out another. In fact, she was rather determined never to have children, until she learned that babies could be born at home. And it was easy to join the homebirth movement when they found such fault with the very doctors and hospitals of which she was so afraid.
She had a wonderful pregnancy and enjoyed getting to know her midwife. She had high hopes for her first birth. Alas, it was a very difficult homebirth. This time it was not the outlet to her body, but the outlet to her womb that gave her trouble. Afterwards she had nursing difficulties, a colicky baby, and post traumatic stress.
Again youthful determination took hold. She would try again. This time she practiced hypnosis through the Hypnobabies childbirth education program. She would never suffer the way she had with her daughter again. But there were odd sign posts throughout this pregnancy. A peculiar dream in which she saw her homebirth supplies and pages of a birth plan swirling around her, and she understood it to mean she should not get too attached to her plans. She marveled at the ladies in her Hypnobabies group who claimed to have painless, peaceful births at the hospital. She just couldn’t believe it could be true. She was quite sure she could never open to give birth in a hospital. She was even challenged in a midwifery forum to get over her fear of obstetrics – a thought she found most absurd at the time. Her fears seemed entirely justified, and she had no desire to get over them.
She didn’t find a homebirth midwife locally as she had moved since her previous birth. She had an unassisted pregnancy and planned an unassisted birth. She decided to fly down her original midwife for emotional support (she was kind of attached to the idea of having the same people present as for her daughter’s birth). She knew with that plan it was possible she would deliver without her friend, but she was comfortable with that possibility.
Throughout her pregnancy she had the thought that she was going to deliver early, so when contractions began at 36 weeks, she was not surprised. She knew the best chance at having her friend present for the birth was to fly her down during early labor. When she had had moderately strong contractions 5 minutes apart for several hours of the early morning; she had her husband call for her friend.
But by noon the contractions had spaced sporadically, and she was quite frustrated. Over the next few days she continued to have bouts of regular contractions for several hours, and then they would stop. Her friend was going to have to go home soon, and she was not happy about the eventuality of being stuck without any back up – the local hospital was notoriously interventive and archaic. She had bouts of labor for several weeks with her first and had ended up with an induction at home because of poor heartbeats. She did not want a repeat performance of her previous labor experience. She tried herbs, castor oil, breast pump… after one night of particular hard labor, she even got to the point of pushing, but then she discovered a cervical lip in the way. Her contractions had stopped and didn’t resume. After pushing her flight back twice, a week after her arrival, her friend had to go home.
No contractions, waters ruptured, she had to make a choice. After a good night’s sleep, she and her husband decided to see a doctor. They called an obstetrician who was highly recommended by their friends. He agreed to see her at the hospital. The experience was surreal, but by this point she was very ready to have her baby. She knew the most likely course of action would be pitocin. She knew most women reported pitocin contractions to be more painful than regular labor contractions. But she also knew some hypnomoms had had inductions with just hypnosis. She could not tolerate the idea of a needle in her back, so she determined that she could do it with her Hypnobabies. If it came down to it, she would take a little Dermerol.
Her first impressions of the hospital were not favorable. The nurse was very pushy and insisted that she could not bring her husband to the labor and delivery room until they had done an initial interview. They prepped her for labor and delivery before she had even met the doctor, insisting upon a vaginal exam, fetal monitor, and IV. She forced herself to remain relaxed and wait for the interview with the doctor, consoling herself with the fact that she could always leave if she found what he had to say objectionable.
When the doctor came in, the situation improved. She liked him very much. He listened to her concerns and was very optimistic about a natural delivery. He reported a very low personal cesarean rate, though the hospital’s was far from acceptable. He had nothing objectionable to say about her using hypnosis. He said she was at 3 cm, 50% effaced and suggested pitocin due to prolonged rupture of membranes. It was nearing 1 pm. He looked at the clock and predicted delivery around 10 pm.
The pushy nurse mellowed after the conversation with the doctor and after several hours expressed her hope that the baby would come before 7 pm when her shift ended. Mom observed her labor as if somewhat detached. She could see the destructive tendencies of the hospital – the continuous monitoring and IV which reduced her mobility, being given only ice chips to eat or drink, the hollering of a woman in another room, and the repeated interruptions of her concentration. Yet these things only seemed to affect her marginally. She was in her own inner world of Hypnobabies and a fierce determination to bring her baby swiftly and easily into the world.
She did not birth before the first nurse had to leave, and she got two new nurses who were less agreeable though less aggressive in nature. Eventually she realized the aversion to their presence was because they acted as if she were just any laboring woman – they had no interest in getting to know her or understanding the way she labored. She quickly decided she had no more interest in them than they had in her, and feigned concentration in labor to avoid further need for attempted conversation. And it wasn’t long until she really needed that concentration.
Her first vaginal check mid-afternoon had shown her to be at 5 cm. She was a little disappointed when a check around 8pm showed her to be just 7 cm. Forgetting that “1cm an hour” is an average, she feared that the next 3 cm would take her well into the night. That vaginal check marked a change in the course of labor. The water that leaked out was stained with dark brown mecomium. The doctor explained that he would have to a have a team from neonatology on hand for the delivery. He would cut the cord immediately and hand the baby to them for inspection rather than pass him to her. Mom wasn’t happy about that, but she was not very concerned. She new mecomium was somewhat common. The baby’s heartbeat was excellent thus far. She figured they would probably suction, but see that her baby was fine, and he would be with her shortly. She would learn that you never assume anything with the hospital.
The doctor told her she was doing great, and he would not be increasing the dosage of pitocin. But one of the nurses walked by and told her she had just increased the dosage. She told her husband to talk to the doctor and make sure they did not increase the dosage anymore. Her contractions were intense enough.
They asked her to lay on her side and wear an oxygen mask for the benefit of the baby. The mask was very hot and uncomfortable. The bed was very hard an uncomfortable. She had multiple tubes and wires connected to her, which made her uncomfortable. She began to feel somewhat depressed that her situation was starting to interfere with her ability to cope with the intensity of her contractions.
Her neighbors brought her daughter in to see her. She pulled off the oxygen mask and smiled. She talked with her baby girl, trying to reassure her that mama was just fine. She wished she could do away with the mechanization of her labor, so she could hold her baby girl. She was glad they had not waited longer to come, because she could feel she was entering a phase of new intensity with her labor.
She could not get comfortable. The hypnosis had worked wonderfully throughout this labor. She wouldn’t say it was truly “painless,” but she had not suffered. But now she was finding it difficult to relax completely with her contractions. She squirmed and shed some tears. She didn’t want to use any drugs, wanting to avoid exposing the baby to anything that could give the hospital reason to keep her baby from her. But she couldn’t see how she was going to manage not being able to move about and labor naturally. She asked her husband to look up in their Hypnobabies manual the side effects of Demerol.
He never found a reference. She sat up and whined that she needed “all this crap off of me.” She asked for the Demerol. The nurse came in and said the doctor preferred Stadol, better for the baby. She didn’t care what it was, she just wanted some rest. She didn’t want to be confined to a bedpan, so the nurse took the trappings off her, and her husband helped her to the bathroom while the nurse went for the drugs. As she sat upon the toilet she felt for the first time that she was really laboring. She knew within herself she would not have needed the drugs if she had been allowed to move about. Sitting upon the bed, she moaned soft and low with the contractions. It felt good to sit like that. She started to shiver and recognized that she was in transition. She asked for a blanket around her shoulders. And she thought that she probably didn’t even need the drugs if she was in transition. But they were already giving them to her, and she really didn’t mind anticipating the sweet release that would come when the drug dulled her senses.
As the drug kicked in, they helped her lie back. She found herself back in that place of observation. How curious was the effect of the drug. She could barely move a muscle! (And her husband told her later they had only given her ½ the dose!) She continued to listen to her hypnosis CDs and found them very soothing. She could feel the contractions and feel that they were intense, but she couldn’t fight them. It was if she was in that semi-alert state when trying to awake from a deep sleep. She was thirsty, but she could only whisper “ice” to her husband, and hold her mouth open. It was too difficult to try to communicate.
The doctor came in to check her dilation. She could barely move her leg over. She was 8-9 cm. She wasn’t sure if he told her or her husband, but she heard the doctor say that when the drug wore off she would be ready to push. That announcement was so soothing. She hadn’t a fear left in the world. Her husband told her she only had the drug for about 20 minutes. She couldn’t have been happier with the choice. She made it through the entire labor without suffering, without screaming, without a curse or wicked thought – despite the many obstacles of the hospital environment; she had the very labor she had wanted!
As the drug started to wear off, she did start feel like pushing. But remember the advice her first nurse had given her upon saying her goodbyes, she waited a few contractions until she really felt she had to push. Her husband asked her if he should get the doctor. “No,” she said, “let’s wait another contraction or two.”
With the next contraction, she gave a little push at the peak. Whoa! She felt the baby move quickly. She had the brief thought of rushing to the bathroom to deliver the baby herself. She had heard of a hypno-mom that did that on accident. But she quickly realized that this baby was coming way to fast for such theatrics.
“Get the doctor! Get the doctor!” she panted.
Her husband reached for the call button.
“No, get the doctor!” Her insistence propelled him through the door.
The nurses came in. One wanted to check her. She got a contraction and needed to push. “Get out! Get out”
“No, let me check you. I need to check…”
“No, get out! Trust me; I have to push!” She swung her legs shut. Was that a huff she heard from the nurse?
The nurse started to lower the bed down. They wanted her to push on her back? Are they crazy?! “Nooooo!” she cried and held the button on the bed raising herself up to a sitting position.
They broke down the bed, flipped up some stirrups for her feet, and the doctor plopped down to catch the baby. She stretched her body up, pressing down with her hands on the bed, raised her butt off the hard mattress and roared out her baby. She found it funny that she had labored so quietly and now was enjoying such a release by hollering. She felt sorry if some other lady was in another room scared by her screaming. This was not a scary experience. It felt so great to bellow!
The over whelming feeling was not pain, but very intense pressure in her rectum. She was momentarily relieved by pushing out the head, but then insulted by the pressure once again. Her first baby was born without rotating, so she had not experienced the pressure of the shoulders in her rectum. She was rather irritated to be feeling that pressure once again. Another big strong push, and her baby boy was born!
She could see that he was beautiful. A full head of blondish, reddish, brownish – what was it? – hair. He gave a lusty cry, and she lay her head back relieved, knowing he was doing well. She delivered the placenta quickly. She had requested no cord traction, and she wanted it out so there would be no temptation. With the first contraction she felt, she pushed, and she was rather shocked at how large it felt in a land birth (her first had been under water). The doctor held it up slightly, and she saw it was perfectly formed like a picture in a book. They saved it for her to take home to burry.
She had no tears – but even more she was glad to have evaded the surgical knife. The baby had been born at 10:11pm after just 10 minutes of pushing. He weighed 6 lbs 11 oz, and was 18.5 inches long. The adrenaline flowed high at having achieved such a nice birthing – in the hospital?! Who knew it could be done!
But the baby was not making out so well. They suctioned him so roughly that even though his APGAR scores were 8 and 9, he could barely breathe after they were done with him. They gave him to his mother for just a moment, and she looked at him frustrated that she had not paid better attention to protecting him from assault. They took him to the NICU for oxygen therapy. He only needed the oxygen for a few hours, but ended up finding an excuse to keep him for 5 days. The NICU policies were not family and breastfeeding friendly.
But mom felt strong after the birth. She was up and dressed before the doctor came to see her the next morning, eager to be checked out so she could see to her baby. She was amazed that she did not have any complaints whatsoever other than an occasional afterpain. Her strength was needed. She was prevented from taking her baby home, but she insisted on exclusive breastfeeding. She and her husband were instilled in the only family sleep room in the entire NICU, to stay with their baby and see to his care. Breastfeeding had been delayed past the crucial 12 hour point, but with patience and determination, she was able to get off to a good start.
At 6 weeks post partum, she went for her first gynecological exam in over 4 years. She was struck by the respectfulness of the doctor and staff. She had figured after 2 kids the examination would hardly be as painful as she remembered. She was delighted to find even the speculum exam painless. As she talked to the doctor, she was gratified to find him very agreeable. He admitted to her that he knew when he discovered the mecomium that the NICU was going to keep her baby – the quirks of that particular unit. He had wisely not shared that information with the laboring woman. It made her sad that her baby had not been treated more conservatively and sad that the NICU staff did not place greater importance upon breastfeeding. The issue needed to be addressed.
As she left the doctor’s office that day, she felt the significance of what had just transpired. She had needed this birth experience. It was much more than just a conquered fear. It was a healing. She wondered that in all the literature she had read she had failed to realize that coming of age did not occur during some magic moment in the teenage years. What had commenced at 17 was accomplished at 27. Like the slow opening of the cervix, over the course of 10 years she had blossomed into a woman – open body, mind, heart and soul. A matron of over 4 year, a mother for almost 2, she kissed her maidenhood good-bye and turned her eye toward the robust years of motherhood ahead.
