babybugmama
06-20-2003, 07:12 PM
It’s 3:00am and I’m on the daybed because for some reason at 8 ½ months pregnant the bed just wasn’t comfortable anymore. Sweet dear husband, Tom is on the trundle bed right beside me snoring gently. I’ve been having contractions for two days now, but they aren’t painful and I’m thinking what’s the fuss? Then I have a real contraction and I think, oh. I decide not to wake Tom since I know it is probably going to be a long time and I’m also not sure that this just isn’t another false alarm. At around 5:00am he begins stirring and I’m so excited I can’t help but whisper, “Tom, you awake?” and wait with anticipation hoping that he is. He grunts and I say I’m having more contractions, but these are different. He sits up, “really?” in that silly kind of voice. We talk there in the dark for a while, about all kinds of things, just gentle chatter until the sun begins to rise. We decide to go for a walk where there is no one around since it’s quite early. But oh, it’s breathtaking. The air is crisp with a snap to it and the leaves are glorious, orange, yellow, red, purple, all rustling in the secret code of the woods. Breathing is just so invigorating. Every single sense I have is on high alert; I smell the must of the leaves, feel the tickle of the cold, crisp autumn air…and can only hope that this is really it. Quickly though the contractions start coming faster, within five minutes and lasting 45 seconds. We decide perhaps we should turn around, just in case. I don’t think Tom was really up to delivering a baby out in the woods. We amble back home with intermittent pauses and feelings of excitement!
When we get home it’s already 10am and we decide to call the doctor. When the doctor asked to speak to me he was able to tell we were probably still a long way off. So, sit tight, go walking, eat something light… enjoy your day. Well, I’m hungry, but nothing that we have sounds good, so downtown we walk to the local market and I get banana nut muffins, mmmmm. We head back home and now it’s starting to hurt and I have to concentrate and breathe through the contractions. We call the doctor back, I can’t talk to him, so he says, come on in. It’s 1:00pm, we head in, they check me, and nothing! They tell us walk around for an hour, come back and we’ll see where you are. So we walk, and walk, and I bend over holding onto Tom or the wall or whatever to get through the contractions. I can’t tell you how many people asked if I needed a wheelchair. I had on a really oversized sweatshirt and you couldn’t tell I was pregnant. Soon as this was explained there was always the “oh,” sympathetic nod, and “good luck.” Once we got back, they checked again and I had only dilated 2cm. I wanted to cry. We were sent home.
We get home and I call my sister and I’m crying because the nurse said there was a good chance that this was false labor. I cried saying if this was false labor what was real labor like? ! I talked to her for about 15 minutes, but then the contractions were really starting to hurt and I was starting to feel like I didn’t have the control I needed. By now it was 2:30pm, Tom called back, the nurse heard me in the background and told him, go to the hospital. So, away we go again. I’m complaining the whole way about every bump and shimmy of the car. The beauty of the day is beginning to be lost in the vacuum of labor. This time when they checked I had dilated 7-8 cm, in about an hour and a half’s time 6 cm of progress. At this point I was starting to feel a little panicky, it was hurting a lot more than I thought and the Bradley method wasn’t doing squat for me. I was finding it very hard to relax despite the quiet, low-key birthing center room. We were left by ourselves a good bit, with the nurse coming in every now and then to check on me and to make suggestions for increasing my comfort. However, for whatever reason I didn’t want anyone touching me; not even my sweet Tom, and the nurse was really touchy-feely and in my state of mind it was like rubbing the hair on a cat backwards. I remember at one point telling my husband to get her away from me.
We tried pacing around and that didn’t really help, and then I tried to get into the Jacuzzi/tub, which was too big for me (I’m 5’3”) and actually increased my discomfort. I tried squatting and everything. At this point, despite being in the natural birthing center I began crying for an epidural. I was in so much pain and I was moaning/hollering through the contractions. The nurse got the doctor on the telephone and he tried to talk me down. He explained that at this point since I was already dilated 8-9 cm that basically there was no point in the epidural since by the time they gave it to me, it would be time to push. I just remember hanging up the telephone and in the most pitiful voice, sobbing, “He said noooo.” Tom just hugged me and kept telling me it was going to be all right. In hindsight, I’m so glad I progressed so quickly; I really didn’t want intervention. At this point the nurses shifted. Until now I had only seen this one nurse, since you chose your room and were given one nurse to labor with you. No one else came in unless you asked. Well, the new nurse was wonderful. She was very matter of fact and her direct, strong no-nonsense approach was just what I needed to boost my confidence. Very quickly after the change I was ready to push. The doctor was paged and he arrived. During the final moments before time to push, I was amazed at my vocabulary and later Tom said that Jesus must have certainly been in the room with us since I kept calling his name over and over and over. I even yelled at the doctor when he got there. He had the audacity to chuckle at me! :)
Pushing was so much easier for me. It gave me something to do with the pain. I actually had finger bruises on my thighs from pulling my legs so tight. As quickly as the transition stage went, the pushing stage went very slowly. It took 2 hours and forty minutes. I kept asking if she would be born before midnight and I believe the nurse thought it was because I did not want a Halloween baby. Actually, I had this totally irrational thought that if the labor went past midnight I was done. That I knew I could do it until midnight, but if it went past that I was packing my bags and going home. Silly girl, where did I think I was going? Finally, the moment came, the ring of fire I had read about. Oh, help me Jesus, I don’t know if I can do it. But then suddenly she was there, halfway out and the most miraculous thing happened. Everyone faded away, the room grew quiet, and suddenly there was just this beautiful person, not yet separate from me. Her face in repose, so peaceful, her eyes closed but facing me. The moment lasts for eternity to me and even now I can recall her every detail and the moment of absolute peace. I find tears welling up even as I type. And then, time comes back to us and she’s out. Dear sweet Tom is there, holding me as they whisk her to the warmer because there was meconium in the waters. I can’t see her, but he can and so I watch his face, I know it will reflect everything that I need to see. Not moments later she’s in my arms and I’m crying and holding her and she’s breathtaking, not just in her beauty, but in her entirety. I am in love, like no falling in love has ever been. There are no boundaries, no holding back, it’s just this perfect, full all encompassing love. This is my baby girl and I look at dear Tom and say, “look what we did.” I have such pride and awe in my face and for the first time, just maybe, I believe in miracles.
born October 30, 2002, 7 lb 13.6oz, 20 inches long.
When we get home it’s already 10am and we decide to call the doctor. When the doctor asked to speak to me he was able to tell we were probably still a long way off. So, sit tight, go walking, eat something light… enjoy your day. Well, I’m hungry, but nothing that we have sounds good, so downtown we walk to the local market and I get banana nut muffins, mmmmm. We head back home and now it’s starting to hurt and I have to concentrate and breathe through the contractions. We call the doctor back, I can’t talk to him, so he says, come on in. It’s 1:00pm, we head in, they check me, and nothing! They tell us walk around for an hour, come back and we’ll see where you are. So we walk, and walk, and I bend over holding onto Tom or the wall or whatever to get through the contractions. I can’t tell you how many people asked if I needed a wheelchair. I had on a really oversized sweatshirt and you couldn’t tell I was pregnant. Soon as this was explained there was always the “oh,” sympathetic nod, and “good luck.” Once we got back, they checked again and I had only dilated 2cm. I wanted to cry. We were sent home.
We get home and I call my sister and I’m crying because the nurse said there was a good chance that this was false labor. I cried saying if this was false labor what was real labor like? ! I talked to her for about 15 minutes, but then the contractions were really starting to hurt and I was starting to feel like I didn’t have the control I needed. By now it was 2:30pm, Tom called back, the nurse heard me in the background and told him, go to the hospital. So, away we go again. I’m complaining the whole way about every bump and shimmy of the car. The beauty of the day is beginning to be lost in the vacuum of labor. This time when they checked I had dilated 7-8 cm, in about an hour and a half’s time 6 cm of progress. At this point I was starting to feel a little panicky, it was hurting a lot more than I thought and the Bradley method wasn’t doing squat for me. I was finding it very hard to relax despite the quiet, low-key birthing center room. We were left by ourselves a good bit, with the nurse coming in every now and then to check on me and to make suggestions for increasing my comfort. However, for whatever reason I didn’t want anyone touching me; not even my sweet Tom, and the nurse was really touchy-feely and in my state of mind it was like rubbing the hair on a cat backwards. I remember at one point telling my husband to get her away from me.
We tried pacing around and that didn’t really help, and then I tried to get into the Jacuzzi/tub, which was too big for me (I’m 5’3”) and actually increased my discomfort. I tried squatting and everything. At this point, despite being in the natural birthing center I began crying for an epidural. I was in so much pain and I was moaning/hollering through the contractions. The nurse got the doctor on the telephone and he tried to talk me down. He explained that at this point since I was already dilated 8-9 cm that basically there was no point in the epidural since by the time they gave it to me, it would be time to push. I just remember hanging up the telephone and in the most pitiful voice, sobbing, “He said noooo.” Tom just hugged me and kept telling me it was going to be all right. In hindsight, I’m so glad I progressed so quickly; I really didn’t want intervention. At this point the nurses shifted. Until now I had only seen this one nurse, since you chose your room and were given one nurse to labor with you. No one else came in unless you asked. Well, the new nurse was wonderful. She was very matter of fact and her direct, strong no-nonsense approach was just what I needed to boost my confidence. Very quickly after the change I was ready to push. The doctor was paged and he arrived. During the final moments before time to push, I was amazed at my vocabulary and later Tom said that Jesus must have certainly been in the room with us since I kept calling his name over and over and over. I even yelled at the doctor when he got there. He had the audacity to chuckle at me! :)
Pushing was so much easier for me. It gave me something to do with the pain. I actually had finger bruises on my thighs from pulling my legs so tight. As quickly as the transition stage went, the pushing stage went very slowly. It took 2 hours and forty minutes. I kept asking if she would be born before midnight and I believe the nurse thought it was because I did not want a Halloween baby. Actually, I had this totally irrational thought that if the labor went past midnight I was done. That I knew I could do it until midnight, but if it went past that I was packing my bags and going home. Silly girl, where did I think I was going? Finally, the moment came, the ring of fire I had read about. Oh, help me Jesus, I don’t know if I can do it. But then suddenly she was there, halfway out and the most miraculous thing happened. Everyone faded away, the room grew quiet, and suddenly there was just this beautiful person, not yet separate from me. Her face in repose, so peaceful, her eyes closed but facing me. The moment lasts for eternity to me and even now I can recall her every detail and the moment of absolute peace. I find tears welling up even as I type. And then, time comes back to us and she’s out. Dear sweet Tom is there, holding me as they whisk her to the warmer because there was meconium in the waters. I can’t see her, but he can and so I watch his face, I know it will reflect everything that I need to see. Not moments later she’s in my arms and I’m crying and holding her and she’s breathtaking, not just in her beauty, but in her entirety. I am in love, like no falling in love has ever been. There are no boundaries, no holding back, it’s just this perfect, full all encompassing love. This is my baby girl and I look at dear Tom and say, “look what we did.” I have such pride and awe in my face and for the first time, just maybe, I believe in miracles.
born October 30, 2002, 7 lb 13.6oz, 20 inches long.