Desdamona
07-08-2003, 01:58 PM
Gabriel's birth story actually starts 4 years prior. On October 11th, 1998
Donovan Matthew, our (now) middle child was born via c/section. I had been
induced after my water had begun to leak. Although pitocin had made labor
extremely painful, I am to this day very proud of the fact that I got to 6 cm
(started at 2cm!) without pain meds. But after almost 8 hours of pitocin
induced hell, I gave in and got an epidural. Now many women will rave about
"being totally without pain" but to me it was very strange to be so far
disconnected with my body during such an intimate experience birth is. The
details get hazy but at some point I was declared to have FTP and a c/section
soon followed.
What was to follow Donovan's birth -- the separation (I was not allowed to hold him for 8 hrs following his birth and throughout the hospital stay there were periods where he was "unaccessable" to me), the pain (physical and emotional), the rage,
disappointment, and depression haunted me for over 2 years. I swore to never
have another baby for fear of going through another traumatic birth
experience! Then once I began working through all the hurt, I vowed that I
would never set foot inside of a hospital to give birth again. It was harder
to convince my husband of this! And in truth he only knew and understood my
pain and rage stemming from Donovan's birth a few short days before Gabriel
was conceived.
My pregnancy, although it had its fair share of hurdles, was the best one I
have had, by far. I knew the moment we conceived this little angel I now hold
in my arms. I felt so much more connected to the whole experience. Cherishing
the movements, relishing my expanding waistline, reveling in the glorious
round goddess like appearance that my body transformed into.
Labor --
Prodromal labor sucks! For 3 weeks I had on again, off again labor-ish type
contractions. At 37 weeks I thought that it was really it, but after 4 hours
of decent contractions everything fizzled out -- leaving me rather frustrated.
As my baby and body continued to grow, I began to feel heavy, tired -
physically as well as emotionally. All I wanted to do was hold my baby in my
arms. With each bout of prodromal labor I felt myself beginning to sink into
the mindset of wanting to hurry everything up rather than trying to enjoy
those last few, short days! And it was only after I allowed myself to
surrender to the final stages of my pregnancy that things started to progress.
[B]Tuesday -[B]
Again, I woke with contractions - NOTHING NEW!! But the were somehow
different. I told Dave (dh) to drive to work instead of taking the train (he worked in NYC) because I
thought something "might" be up but he was only allowed to go to work after
he ran to the grocery store (I, emotionally, was unable to venture to the
store with Donovan) to get some fresh fruit and cold cut, which I munched on
through out the day.
Although the contractions never got regular they were present through out the
day. I called a few friends and chatted with them. I even tempted fate by
telling them that I thought I could be in early labor. I was sure that once
again these contractions would pitter out. I did 4 loads of laundry (which
are still sitting in the baskets 10 days after he was born!!) and cleaned all day long, can anyone say
nesting??
By 10pm I finally recognized that I was indeed in early labor. I called Dave
and told him to bring home a bottle of wine so I could have a glass to help
me sleep or rest as much as possible. Poor guy had no idea where the closet
liquor store to his work was and drove around Manhattan for 20 minutes
looking for one. But I got my bottle of wine!
By the time he got home my contractions were about 8 minutes apart but not
uncomfortable - just there. I grabbed a couple of pillows and my favorite
blanket and decided to camp out in our living room to allow Dave as much rest
as possible. I drank ľ of a glass of wine which didn't taste as good as I
thought it would and laid down for about 4˝ hours of sleep.
[B]Now Wednesday -[B]
I woke up around 5am and retreated to my own bed where I proceeded to have a
good cry because I would only find 2 fitted sheets for our bed and one was in
the wash. I couldn't double make our bed in preparation for the birth. This
was my major concern. Dave (thankfully) just held me, let me cry and
reassured me that everything was going to be okay.
We slept for another hour until I awoke with a contraction that felt
different. I breathed through it, trying not to disturb Dave, but had a hard
time lying still during the surge of the contraction. Before I knew it I felt
another contractions start to build, I glanced at the clock - barely 5
minutes had passed since I was awoken by that first contractions. I decided
to get into the shower which helped a bit. Because of the intensity of the
contractions, I suspected that the baby was in a funky position, maybe OP, so
I spent the majority of my time on my hands and knees doing pelvic rocks.
leaving
After about an hour I returned to our bedroom and whispered to my half
sleeping husband, "you're not going to work today." He immediately woke up
and started to get everything ready for the day. The boys were awake soon and
we let them know that the baby was going to be born today. I stayed
downstairs with them as they got ready for school, pausing and leaning over
the table, banister, or couch (whatever was close by) with each contraction.
At 8:30am Dave left to take both boys to school and I retreated to my
bedroom. I called my girlfriend who was going to help support me during labor to give her a heads up.
As I was listening to my favorite CD by Andrea Bocelli I found that breathing
no longer was cutting it and that I needed to start vocalizing through each
contraction. Never thought I would be singing a duet with Andrea!!
By the time Dave got back, 9:20 I was really vocalizing and told him to call
Genny, my doula, and tell her to come over as soon as she could. I was having
a hard time because the contractions were so intense from the get go.
When Genny got here I was back in the shower and starting to get loud. She
sat in the bathroom with me and started to time them. To everyone's surprise
they were last about 70 seconds and coming every 2-3 minutes, some with
double peaks. I knew I wasn't in transition but how could they be so close
together??
When I got out of the shower, Dave and I wound up sitting on our bedroom
floor together, with him behind me holding me as I worked through each surge.
This is one of my fondest memories of labor - leaning back into him with him
holding and squeezing my thighs as I was methodically rubbing his legs with
each contraction. Very reminiscent of some of the stories in "Spiritual
Midwifery" I did feel good to give as well as receive.
At 11am Dave had to leave to get Donovan from preschool and then drop him off
at a friend's house, so when I heard Donovan come into the house 15 minutes
later, I was upset. I was dealing with intense labor and I #1 didn't want to
scare my son with the loud noises and #2 I just couldn't deal with his
presence. He came into the room during a lull and kissed me and my belly and
told me it was okay to make the "momma bear" noises to make the baby come
out. I almost laughed until another contractions started and Donovan quickly
retreated back to Dave's side hearing those loud "momma bear" noises. Before
I knew it, Dave was back at my side, sans Donovan, supporting me through this
labor I couldn't make sense of.
The contractions were coming hard and fast but I wasn't feeling transition-y. I
was still able to carry on a conversation between contractions, still joking,
still eating lightly and there was no bloody show. But those contractions
were so damned intense. I was feeling a lot in my back, giving credibility to
my suspicion that the baby was OP, but I was also starting to feel a lot of
pressure up front… but this was nothing new since I had had a lot of pubic
symphasis pain throughout my pregnancy. I told my doula that I would give my
left arm if my chiropractor would only come out and adjust my back to try and
ease the PS pain.
By 12:30pm the call was made to my MW to come. I had been having contractions
consistently 60-80 seconds long every 2-3 minutes for over 3 hours. We all
thought that by 3pm we would have a baby. My MW got here and listened to the
baby, who sounded great with a heart rate in the 140's. Dave started joking
with me, calling my "Hannibal" since my BP was 98/65 and didn't rise much
above that through the remainder of my labor. Once of my concerns with the
MW, since I had only been seeing her for 2˝ weeks (my LM had bailed on me because she got spooked that she would get caught practicing in an illegal state, but that's a whole 'nother can of worms) was that she was going to
be obtrusive, and over step her boundaries, telling me what to do rather than
just sitting back and letting my labor progress but she let me do my thing.
I was in and out of the shower. Laboring on the toilet, which I incidentally
rocked off of the anchoring bolts during a particularly strong contractions.
And then I climbed on top of during another intense contractions… Startled
everyone at that point. Both the MW and the 2nd MW were trying to get a hold
of me and I barked at them, "I've got a hold of Dave, let go of me". I was
literally trying to get on top of the pain by climbing up on my commode.
By 4 pm, I had banished the clock in my bedroom and was starting to get run
down. I asked my MW to check me to give me some idea of where I was in labor.
Happily I was at 7cm, 100% effaced but baby was high. I never asked how high,
but afterwards I learned that the baby was -3/-2 station. I began to cry in
anticipation of holding my baby soon. I continued to labor with Dave
supporting me. I didn't want anyone else but my husband's hands on me. Even
Genny, my doula, who I am especially close to could offer the support that I
felt from Dave.
Because the clock had been covered I had no concept of time. In and out of
the bathroom, pausing for another contractions, squatting, leaning over the
bed, getting on my H&K, having Dave hold me in a supported squat, back to the
shower - everything was beginning to blur. I was leaning over the bed and
felt a distinct pop and then a gush of fluid. For the first time, my water had released on it's own!! I looked
down and saw that it was stained with meconium. This was the first time I
felt a twinge of fear. Janet, my MW, listened to the baby's heart beat
immediately after that contractions and through the next one and it sounded
nice a steady. Very reassuring to both Dave and I. (reading the notes from my
labor that my MW kept, my water broke at 6pm)
I began to feel tired and needed to lay down. It was so difficult to lay down
when I was having a contractions. I started to say things like, "All I want
to do is sleep. When is this going to end? I wasn't ready for it to be so
intense the whole time" Thankfully everyone around me reassured me that I was
doing great and that it wasn't going to be long before I was holding my baby.
No one ever introduced their hesitation or fear - if they even held any.
Once again I got back into the shower. This time to escape from everyone ...
to many people around me. I just wanted to have Dave near me - alone. I
stopped up the bath tub drain and let the shower fill the tub as I reclined,
trying to get some rest. Dave poured pitchers of the hot water over my
stomach and talked me through each contraction. This was the beginning of my
extreme low point during labor. I had been going at it for so long now. I was
tired, in pain and I was really getting discouraged. I wanted solitude and there were "so many" people around. I wanted to sleep most of al. I looked at Dave and
told him that I couldn't do this for much longer. He never said, "Okay we'll
go to the hospital" instead he told me how beautiful I was, how strong I was
and that I WAS doing it and that we'd be snuggled up in our bed with our new
baby before the night's end.
Janet came in and wanted to listen to the baby's
heart through a contractions, so I hoisted my belly up out of the water.
After the contractions I lost my footing and my right knee went out from
under me. I wound up with my right leg splayed out froggy style. I just lost
it. Not only was I dealing with the intensity of these contractions, now my
damned knee was out of whack. I started crying and saying, "That's it! I
don't want to do this anymore. I was drugs. I can't do this much longer"
My MW and Dave helped me up out of the tub and back into my bedroom. Janet
tried to help me and got right up in my face, which was the exact wrong thing
to do for me at that point. I told her to shut the F&$% up, she told me it
was okay to curse but she wasn't going to go away and I retorted, I'm not
listening to you anymore, I can't listen to you, stop F&$%ing talking to me.
Thankfully she didn't try to persist and the 2nd MW stepped in and started
reasoning with me, that if I went to the hospital I would be subjected to
residents examining me, an attending Dr who I didn't know, monitors, IV's,
NICU team because of the meconium in the water. Reminding me of all the
things that I wanted to avoid. It was enough for me to hold on a little whole
longer.
During another contractions the baby's heart rate deceled a bit and took a
while to rebound so Rose, the 2nd MW, wanted to tickle the baby's scalp just
to make sure we had a nice reactive heart rate, which we did but it sure was
uncomfortable for me. She let me know that I was 8-9 cm, with more anterior
cervix still resent. For anyone this probably would have been encouraging but
this is where I had stalled out with Donovan. I was scared of not being able
to progress past this point. I was scared that the pressure I had once felt
up front, that was now pain was my scar rupturing. I was scared of going to
the hospital, although no one ever suggested it. And I was scared of having
to go through much more labor.
I got onto my birth ball and Rose told me that if I felt the need to push to
go ahead and go with it. I found that I could push about ˝ the time, if I
forced myself to do so but it just didn't feel right. I still had a lot of
pain up front. I felt like I was splitting in two both through my pubic
symphasis and through my lower back.
It was about 8pm when I got up off of the birth ball and announced I wasn't
going to do this anymore and that I was leaving. I fully intend to march
downstairs, get my car keys, walk out the door and leave - stark naked. But 2
steps off of the ball I began another contractions and wound up on my bed. I
told my mw that if I still had a cervical lip, that I wanted to go to the
hospital, that I was thankful for everyone being here with me but I was done.
She checked me and I did have a lip still but she wanted me to try to push
past I, that she wouldn't do anything but hold it as I pushed and I did push
and BAM!! That little bowling ball head felt like it was immediately down
onto my perineum. It felt like I was pushing for hours but I actually only
pushed for 20 minutes. The baby came down nice and steady, allowing for me to
fully feel the ring of fire. I told my mw to cut me because I felt like I was
going to tear towards my urethra. She assured me that I had lots of room and
helped me with a hot compress to alleviate the pain. I reached down and felt
my baby's head before it fully emerged. What a strange feeling. This soft
wrinkly scalp in my hand as I continued to push our baby, my baby closer to
the moment of birth.
With a roar the baby's head was free. It was such sweet relief to have the
head born. I had to wait as the MW's suctioned the baby because of the
meconium. Thankfully the baby hadn't inhaled any meconium. Again I reached
down and felt my baby. This time I was able to feel a little nose and mouth.
Oh how I couldn't wait to have this little one in my arms.
Just have to push the shoulders out and this little one will slither right
out. Right? Well, that's the way it should be but my little baby was rather
large indeed! I pushed and pushed and finally the shoulders were born, WITH one arm reach straight out. No wonder I had had so much pain up front!! I wasn't dealing with
an OP baby but rather a baby with an arm up by its face. Well, with the
shoulders free, this baby should slip right out. Not my baby!! Once the baby
was born to its hips we realized we were dealing with dystocia - hiney
dystocia! My MW reached up and help tilt my uterus towards the baby as I
pushed and finally at 8:20 pm our 3rd child was born! The baby was passed
through my legs and I immediately pulled him up to my chest.
To both Dave and my surprise we discovered that we had our third boy. We both
had been convinced that we were going to have a girl this time. Dave actually
looked a bit disappointed when I said, "It's a boy", I think he wanted a girl
much more than he'll every admit to. Because we didn't think we were going to
have another boy, a name hadn't been decided upon. Gabriel Thomas just came
to me. I looked up at Dave and said the name as a question to him and he said
yes, Gabriel Thomas, so our baby had a name.
I had Dave call for the boys and even before the placenta was born Davie and
Donovan were home, discovering their new baby brother. They both were doing a
dance when they found out Gabriel was indeed a boy. Donovan started singing,
"I knew it, I knew it"
Placenta was born, I was stitched and then got back for the 6th time into the
shower that day. Sooner than we knew it, it was just Dave and I snuggled into
our own bed with this new little person that we had known and loved those
prior 9 months and that we had fallen in love with the moment he was born.
This birth proved to be a lot more challenging that I had expected but it
also has proven to be so much more rewarding than I ever thought possible.
Both Dave and I are a bit saddened that it took us 3 pregnancies, 3 births, 3
children to realize how wonderful the whole experience of pregnancy and birth
can be. Dave now says that he wants to have anther baby. That he can't see
Gabriel being our last child. Amazing what homebirth can do!! It has
broadened our horizons in so many ways and brought us closer together,
stronger as husband and wife. I fully expected Dave to retreat into the
background once Genny and the MW's showed up yet he was my rock throughout
the entire birth. I don't think I will ever be able to tell him just how much
it meant to me that he was there every step of the way and never once
faltering in his support of me.
Donovan Matthew, our (now) middle child was born via c/section. I had been
induced after my water had begun to leak. Although pitocin had made labor
extremely painful, I am to this day very proud of the fact that I got to 6 cm
(started at 2cm!) without pain meds. But after almost 8 hours of pitocin
induced hell, I gave in and got an epidural. Now many women will rave about
"being totally without pain" but to me it was very strange to be so far
disconnected with my body during such an intimate experience birth is. The
details get hazy but at some point I was declared to have FTP and a c/section
soon followed.
What was to follow Donovan's birth -- the separation (I was not allowed to hold him for 8 hrs following his birth and throughout the hospital stay there were periods where he was "unaccessable" to me), the pain (physical and emotional), the rage,
disappointment, and depression haunted me for over 2 years. I swore to never
have another baby for fear of going through another traumatic birth
experience! Then once I began working through all the hurt, I vowed that I
would never set foot inside of a hospital to give birth again. It was harder
to convince my husband of this! And in truth he only knew and understood my
pain and rage stemming from Donovan's birth a few short days before Gabriel
was conceived.
My pregnancy, although it had its fair share of hurdles, was the best one I
have had, by far. I knew the moment we conceived this little angel I now hold
in my arms. I felt so much more connected to the whole experience. Cherishing
the movements, relishing my expanding waistline, reveling in the glorious
round goddess like appearance that my body transformed into.
Labor --
Prodromal labor sucks! For 3 weeks I had on again, off again labor-ish type
contractions. At 37 weeks I thought that it was really it, but after 4 hours
of decent contractions everything fizzled out -- leaving me rather frustrated.
As my baby and body continued to grow, I began to feel heavy, tired -
physically as well as emotionally. All I wanted to do was hold my baby in my
arms. With each bout of prodromal labor I felt myself beginning to sink into
the mindset of wanting to hurry everything up rather than trying to enjoy
those last few, short days! And it was only after I allowed myself to
surrender to the final stages of my pregnancy that things started to progress.
[B]Tuesday -[B]
Again, I woke with contractions - NOTHING NEW!! But the were somehow
different. I told Dave (dh) to drive to work instead of taking the train (he worked in NYC) because I
thought something "might" be up but he was only allowed to go to work after
he ran to the grocery store (I, emotionally, was unable to venture to the
store with Donovan) to get some fresh fruit and cold cut, which I munched on
through out the day.
Although the contractions never got regular they were present through out the
day. I called a few friends and chatted with them. I even tempted fate by
telling them that I thought I could be in early labor. I was sure that once
again these contractions would pitter out. I did 4 loads of laundry (which
are still sitting in the baskets 10 days after he was born!!) and cleaned all day long, can anyone say
nesting??
By 10pm I finally recognized that I was indeed in early labor. I called Dave
and told him to bring home a bottle of wine so I could have a glass to help
me sleep or rest as much as possible. Poor guy had no idea where the closet
liquor store to his work was and drove around Manhattan for 20 minutes
looking for one. But I got my bottle of wine!
By the time he got home my contractions were about 8 minutes apart but not
uncomfortable - just there. I grabbed a couple of pillows and my favorite
blanket and decided to camp out in our living room to allow Dave as much rest
as possible. I drank ľ of a glass of wine which didn't taste as good as I
thought it would and laid down for about 4˝ hours of sleep.
[B]Now Wednesday -[B]
I woke up around 5am and retreated to my own bed where I proceeded to have a
good cry because I would only find 2 fitted sheets for our bed and one was in
the wash. I couldn't double make our bed in preparation for the birth. This
was my major concern. Dave (thankfully) just held me, let me cry and
reassured me that everything was going to be okay.
We slept for another hour until I awoke with a contraction that felt
different. I breathed through it, trying not to disturb Dave, but had a hard
time lying still during the surge of the contraction. Before I knew it I felt
another contractions start to build, I glanced at the clock - barely 5
minutes had passed since I was awoken by that first contractions. I decided
to get into the shower which helped a bit. Because of the intensity of the
contractions, I suspected that the baby was in a funky position, maybe OP, so
I spent the majority of my time on my hands and knees doing pelvic rocks.
leaving
After about an hour I returned to our bedroom and whispered to my half
sleeping husband, "you're not going to work today." He immediately woke up
and started to get everything ready for the day. The boys were awake soon and
we let them know that the baby was going to be born today. I stayed
downstairs with them as they got ready for school, pausing and leaning over
the table, banister, or couch (whatever was close by) with each contraction.
At 8:30am Dave left to take both boys to school and I retreated to my
bedroom. I called my girlfriend who was going to help support me during labor to give her a heads up.
As I was listening to my favorite CD by Andrea Bocelli I found that breathing
no longer was cutting it and that I needed to start vocalizing through each
contraction. Never thought I would be singing a duet with Andrea!!
By the time Dave got back, 9:20 I was really vocalizing and told him to call
Genny, my doula, and tell her to come over as soon as she could. I was having
a hard time because the contractions were so intense from the get go.
When Genny got here I was back in the shower and starting to get loud. She
sat in the bathroom with me and started to time them. To everyone's surprise
they were last about 70 seconds and coming every 2-3 minutes, some with
double peaks. I knew I wasn't in transition but how could they be so close
together??
When I got out of the shower, Dave and I wound up sitting on our bedroom
floor together, with him behind me holding me as I worked through each surge.
This is one of my fondest memories of labor - leaning back into him with him
holding and squeezing my thighs as I was methodically rubbing his legs with
each contraction. Very reminiscent of some of the stories in "Spiritual
Midwifery" I did feel good to give as well as receive.
At 11am Dave had to leave to get Donovan from preschool and then drop him off
at a friend's house, so when I heard Donovan come into the house 15 minutes
later, I was upset. I was dealing with intense labor and I #1 didn't want to
scare my son with the loud noises and #2 I just couldn't deal with his
presence. He came into the room during a lull and kissed me and my belly and
told me it was okay to make the "momma bear" noises to make the baby come
out. I almost laughed until another contractions started and Donovan quickly
retreated back to Dave's side hearing those loud "momma bear" noises. Before
I knew it, Dave was back at my side, sans Donovan, supporting me through this
labor I couldn't make sense of.
The contractions were coming hard and fast but I wasn't feeling transition-y. I
was still able to carry on a conversation between contractions, still joking,
still eating lightly and there was no bloody show. But those contractions
were so damned intense. I was feeling a lot in my back, giving credibility to
my suspicion that the baby was OP, but I was also starting to feel a lot of
pressure up front… but this was nothing new since I had had a lot of pubic
symphasis pain throughout my pregnancy. I told my doula that I would give my
left arm if my chiropractor would only come out and adjust my back to try and
ease the PS pain.
By 12:30pm the call was made to my MW to come. I had been having contractions
consistently 60-80 seconds long every 2-3 minutes for over 3 hours. We all
thought that by 3pm we would have a baby. My MW got here and listened to the
baby, who sounded great with a heart rate in the 140's. Dave started joking
with me, calling my "Hannibal" since my BP was 98/65 and didn't rise much
above that through the remainder of my labor. Once of my concerns with the
MW, since I had only been seeing her for 2˝ weeks (my LM had bailed on me because she got spooked that she would get caught practicing in an illegal state, but that's a whole 'nother can of worms) was that she was going to
be obtrusive, and over step her boundaries, telling me what to do rather than
just sitting back and letting my labor progress but she let me do my thing.
I was in and out of the shower. Laboring on the toilet, which I incidentally
rocked off of the anchoring bolts during a particularly strong contractions.
And then I climbed on top of during another intense contractions… Startled
everyone at that point. Both the MW and the 2nd MW were trying to get a hold
of me and I barked at them, "I've got a hold of Dave, let go of me". I was
literally trying to get on top of the pain by climbing up on my commode.
By 4 pm, I had banished the clock in my bedroom and was starting to get run
down. I asked my MW to check me to give me some idea of where I was in labor.
Happily I was at 7cm, 100% effaced but baby was high. I never asked how high,
but afterwards I learned that the baby was -3/-2 station. I began to cry in
anticipation of holding my baby soon. I continued to labor with Dave
supporting me. I didn't want anyone else but my husband's hands on me. Even
Genny, my doula, who I am especially close to could offer the support that I
felt from Dave.
Because the clock had been covered I had no concept of time. In and out of
the bathroom, pausing for another contractions, squatting, leaning over the
bed, getting on my H&K, having Dave hold me in a supported squat, back to the
shower - everything was beginning to blur. I was leaning over the bed and
felt a distinct pop and then a gush of fluid. For the first time, my water had released on it's own!! I looked
down and saw that it was stained with meconium. This was the first time I
felt a twinge of fear. Janet, my MW, listened to the baby's heart beat
immediately after that contractions and through the next one and it sounded
nice a steady. Very reassuring to both Dave and I. (reading the notes from my
labor that my MW kept, my water broke at 6pm)
I began to feel tired and needed to lay down. It was so difficult to lay down
when I was having a contractions. I started to say things like, "All I want
to do is sleep. When is this going to end? I wasn't ready for it to be so
intense the whole time" Thankfully everyone around me reassured me that I was
doing great and that it wasn't going to be long before I was holding my baby.
No one ever introduced their hesitation or fear - if they even held any.
Once again I got back into the shower. This time to escape from everyone ...
to many people around me. I just wanted to have Dave near me - alone. I
stopped up the bath tub drain and let the shower fill the tub as I reclined,
trying to get some rest. Dave poured pitchers of the hot water over my
stomach and talked me through each contraction. This was the beginning of my
extreme low point during labor. I had been going at it for so long now. I was
tired, in pain and I was really getting discouraged. I wanted solitude and there were "so many" people around. I wanted to sleep most of al. I looked at Dave and
told him that I couldn't do this for much longer. He never said, "Okay we'll
go to the hospital" instead he told me how beautiful I was, how strong I was
and that I WAS doing it and that we'd be snuggled up in our bed with our new
baby before the night's end.
Janet came in and wanted to listen to the baby's
heart through a contractions, so I hoisted my belly up out of the water.
After the contractions I lost my footing and my right knee went out from
under me. I wound up with my right leg splayed out froggy style. I just lost
it. Not only was I dealing with the intensity of these contractions, now my
damned knee was out of whack. I started crying and saying, "That's it! I
don't want to do this anymore. I was drugs. I can't do this much longer"
My MW and Dave helped me up out of the tub and back into my bedroom. Janet
tried to help me and got right up in my face, which was the exact wrong thing
to do for me at that point. I told her to shut the F&$% up, she told me it
was okay to curse but she wasn't going to go away and I retorted, I'm not
listening to you anymore, I can't listen to you, stop F&$%ing talking to me.
Thankfully she didn't try to persist and the 2nd MW stepped in and started
reasoning with me, that if I went to the hospital I would be subjected to
residents examining me, an attending Dr who I didn't know, monitors, IV's,
NICU team because of the meconium in the water. Reminding me of all the
things that I wanted to avoid. It was enough for me to hold on a little whole
longer.
During another contractions the baby's heart rate deceled a bit and took a
while to rebound so Rose, the 2nd MW, wanted to tickle the baby's scalp just
to make sure we had a nice reactive heart rate, which we did but it sure was
uncomfortable for me. She let me know that I was 8-9 cm, with more anterior
cervix still resent. For anyone this probably would have been encouraging but
this is where I had stalled out with Donovan. I was scared of not being able
to progress past this point. I was scared that the pressure I had once felt
up front, that was now pain was my scar rupturing. I was scared of going to
the hospital, although no one ever suggested it. And I was scared of having
to go through much more labor.
I got onto my birth ball and Rose told me that if I felt the need to push to
go ahead and go with it. I found that I could push about ˝ the time, if I
forced myself to do so but it just didn't feel right. I still had a lot of
pain up front. I felt like I was splitting in two both through my pubic
symphasis and through my lower back.
It was about 8pm when I got up off of the birth ball and announced I wasn't
going to do this anymore and that I was leaving. I fully intend to march
downstairs, get my car keys, walk out the door and leave - stark naked. But 2
steps off of the ball I began another contractions and wound up on my bed. I
told my mw that if I still had a cervical lip, that I wanted to go to the
hospital, that I was thankful for everyone being here with me but I was done.
She checked me and I did have a lip still but she wanted me to try to push
past I, that she wouldn't do anything but hold it as I pushed and I did push
and BAM!! That little bowling ball head felt like it was immediately down
onto my perineum. It felt like I was pushing for hours but I actually only
pushed for 20 minutes. The baby came down nice and steady, allowing for me to
fully feel the ring of fire. I told my mw to cut me because I felt like I was
going to tear towards my urethra. She assured me that I had lots of room and
helped me with a hot compress to alleviate the pain. I reached down and felt
my baby's head before it fully emerged. What a strange feeling. This soft
wrinkly scalp in my hand as I continued to push our baby, my baby closer to
the moment of birth.
With a roar the baby's head was free. It was such sweet relief to have the
head born. I had to wait as the MW's suctioned the baby because of the
meconium. Thankfully the baby hadn't inhaled any meconium. Again I reached
down and felt my baby. This time I was able to feel a little nose and mouth.
Oh how I couldn't wait to have this little one in my arms.
Just have to push the shoulders out and this little one will slither right
out. Right? Well, that's the way it should be but my little baby was rather
large indeed! I pushed and pushed and finally the shoulders were born, WITH one arm reach straight out. No wonder I had had so much pain up front!! I wasn't dealing with
an OP baby but rather a baby with an arm up by its face. Well, with the
shoulders free, this baby should slip right out. Not my baby!! Once the baby
was born to its hips we realized we were dealing with dystocia - hiney
dystocia! My MW reached up and help tilt my uterus towards the baby as I
pushed and finally at 8:20 pm our 3rd child was born! The baby was passed
through my legs and I immediately pulled him up to my chest.
To both Dave and my surprise we discovered that we had our third boy. We both
had been convinced that we were going to have a girl this time. Dave actually
looked a bit disappointed when I said, "It's a boy", I think he wanted a girl
much more than he'll every admit to. Because we didn't think we were going to
have another boy, a name hadn't been decided upon. Gabriel Thomas just came
to me. I looked up at Dave and said the name as a question to him and he said
yes, Gabriel Thomas, so our baby had a name.
I had Dave call for the boys and even before the placenta was born Davie and
Donovan were home, discovering their new baby brother. They both were doing a
dance when they found out Gabriel was indeed a boy. Donovan started singing,
"I knew it, I knew it"
Placenta was born, I was stitched and then got back for the 6th time into the
shower that day. Sooner than we knew it, it was just Dave and I snuggled into
our own bed with this new little person that we had known and loved those
prior 9 months and that we had fallen in love with the moment he was born.
This birth proved to be a lot more challenging that I had expected but it
also has proven to be so much more rewarding than I ever thought possible.
Both Dave and I are a bit saddened that it took us 3 pregnancies, 3 births, 3
children to realize how wonderful the whole experience of pregnancy and birth
can be. Dave now says that he wants to have anther baby. That he can't see
Gabriel being our last child. Amazing what homebirth can do!! It has
broadened our horizons in so many ways and brought us closer together,
stronger as husband and wife. I fully expected Dave to retreat into the
background once Genny and the MW's showed up yet he was my rock throughout
the entire birth. I don't think I will ever be able to tell him just how much
it meant to me that he was there every step of the way and never once
faltering in his support of me.