Joined
·
336 Posts
Arlo Daniel born 7/18 at 4:10am, 7lbs 12 oz., 20.5 inches.
On Friday 7/15 I had a stupid stressful biophysical profile done because I was at 41+3 and it was protocol for the OB my MW works with. I had a "feeling" that if I went thru with the ultrasound baby would come. Call me crazy. The profile yielded terrible results that I knew weren't right and my MW trusted me.
Early Saturday morning - around 1 am - I woke up with some awesome bloody show and a nice piece of mucous plug. It was hella exciting! I could barely sleep. My MW told me: No need to wake up your hubs on that, just try to keep on as if normal... but of course I HAD to wake him up with the awesome news. Ok, back to sleep.
I spent Saturday delighted by every sign of bloody show & I worked on a crocheted baby blanket - my first foray into crocheted baby blankets, by the way. That evening I was having contractions and we were having a good time using that online calculator thing. They were 4-7 mins apart and about 45-60 seconds long. We told my MW, she was like, Oooohhh greaaat - in a funny way - because she wanted to go to the coast for the afternoon (hot date I think) and a concert that night. She said: Well I'm only 1.5 hours from the capital (where her birth center is) in case you we need to be there sooner than later. I was like, Woman go on your hot date because I'm sure this is gonna take awhile. MW came over after her hot date concert and checked me (first vaginal exam in my whole pregnancy) and she 'stretched' me a bit to 3cm and asked if she could sweep thy membranes, I was like, Uhhh ok. Y-Ouch!
I spent Saturday night/Sunday morning contracting more & more. It got less & less fun.
Sunday morning I had already been up for hours and we called the MW to head to the birth center about 1 hour away. It was 6am and she said, Be there at 8. I was like 8?!?!?!? That's like 2 hours away... I was already feeling pressure and really wanting to just get the heck to the center, because in my mind center=birth soon (yeah, right).
My friend who has never driven in Guatemala drove my old Land Cruiser into the city with me in the back yelping at each pothole (there are many). It was a long drive and pretty uncomfortable but I was like, One way pregnant, One way back with a baby!
We arrive at the birth center and, basically 20 hours of active labor later, Arlo was born. In those 20 hours I lost my $hit a few times and around 8cm seriously asked for a transfer and started la-la-landing about a cesearean. I'm embarrassed to say that now, but my doula/friend and MW both said, Yeah that's normal. However the thought of contractions on the way to the hospital (my hospital choices were "cheap" or "expensive" ... yikes!) pretty much deterred me from taking any real action toward leaving.
At 7cm she found my cervix to be very tender, inflamed. Her internal exam was brutal. It hurt a lot. She told me (in other words) I need to chill the f- out and control my breathing because it is possible my crazy breathing and roaring is affecting my cervix. Or something like that... I was on another planet. But from then on I feared her exams. And pretty much wanted OUT.
I lost track of time that's why I can't really fill in what happened during those 20 hours. My hubs was the bomb the whole time. I roared, I grunted, I screamed, I breathed deeper than any other time in my life. Around 3:30am I think I got in tub and squatted holding on to a big rope thing from the ceiling. I pushed about 40 mins I'm told. I was so tired having not slept in 2 days, I was hungry, I was out of my mind.
I didn't know how close the baby was to being born except that I could only push on contractions and they were sorta a min apart so his head crowned very slowly over several contractions. The time between contractions was wild. Finally.. WOooosh out came baby and I couldn't believe it. I don't know, I just sat back and boom had a baby in my arms. A huge awesome beautiful little boy who I knew immediately. My hubs sat behind me in the tub. I was in shock. No tears (I always imagined crying tears of joy at that moment), just in awe.
I got a couple of stitches and told my MW after the stitches heal she's not allowed to be around my vagina any more. After all that I was still a joker.
So Arlo Daniel was born at 41+6. When my MW clocked in his birth at 4:10 I was like, IN THE MORNING?!
I'm still not sure how I did it. My hubs is so proud of me - he thinks I'm awesome. I can't imagine ever doing that again. Is that normal? I went into it with no preparation for pain control. Maybe next time I would try a hypno birthing program or something.
5 days PP and I'm feeling alright. Breast feeding is coming along and my baby is rad.
On Friday 7/15 I had a stupid stressful biophysical profile done because I was at 41+3 and it was protocol for the OB my MW works with. I had a "feeling" that if I went thru with the ultrasound baby would come. Call me crazy. The profile yielded terrible results that I knew weren't right and my MW trusted me.
Early Saturday morning - around 1 am - I woke up with some awesome bloody show and a nice piece of mucous plug. It was hella exciting! I could barely sleep. My MW told me: No need to wake up your hubs on that, just try to keep on as if normal... but of course I HAD to wake him up with the awesome news. Ok, back to sleep.
I spent Saturday delighted by every sign of bloody show & I worked on a crocheted baby blanket - my first foray into crocheted baby blankets, by the way. That evening I was having contractions and we were having a good time using that online calculator thing. They were 4-7 mins apart and about 45-60 seconds long. We told my MW, she was like, Oooohhh greaaat - in a funny way - because she wanted to go to the coast for the afternoon (hot date I think) and a concert that night. She said: Well I'm only 1.5 hours from the capital (where her birth center is) in case you we need to be there sooner than later. I was like, Woman go on your hot date because I'm sure this is gonna take awhile. MW came over after her hot date concert and checked me (first vaginal exam in my whole pregnancy) and she 'stretched' me a bit to 3cm and asked if she could sweep thy membranes, I was like, Uhhh ok. Y-Ouch!
I spent Saturday night/Sunday morning contracting more & more. It got less & less fun.
Sunday morning I had already been up for hours and we called the MW to head to the birth center about 1 hour away. It was 6am and she said, Be there at 8. I was like 8?!?!?!? That's like 2 hours away... I was already feeling pressure and really wanting to just get the heck to the center, because in my mind center=birth soon (yeah, right).
My friend who has never driven in Guatemala drove my old Land Cruiser into the city with me in the back yelping at each pothole (there are many). It was a long drive and pretty uncomfortable but I was like, One way pregnant, One way back with a baby!
We arrive at the birth center and, basically 20 hours of active labor later, Arlo was born. In those 20 hours I lost my $hit a few times and around 8cm seriously asked for a transfer and started la-la-landing about a cesearean. I'm embarrassed to say that now, but my doula/friend and MW both said, Yeah that's normal. However the thought of contractions on the way to the hospital (my hospital choices were "cheap" or "expensive" ... yikes!) pretty much deterred me from taking any real action toward leaving.
At 7cm she found my cervix to be very tender, inflamed. Her internal exam was brutal. It hurt a lot. She told me (in other words) I need to chill the f- out and control my breathing because it is possible my crazy breathing and roaring is affecting my cervix. Or something like that... I was on another planet. But from then on I feared her exams. And pretty much wanted OUT.
I lost track of time that's why I can't really fill in what happened during those 20 hours. My hubs was the bomb the whole time. I roared, I grunted, I screamed, I breathed deeper than any other time in my life. Around 3:30am I think I got in tub and squatted holding on to a big rope thing from the ceiling. I pushed about 40 mins I'm told. I was so tired having not slept in 2 days, I was hungry, I was out of my mind.
I didn't know how close the baby was to being born except that I could only push on contractions and they were sorta a min apart so his head crowned very slowly over several contractions. The time between contractions was wild. Finally.. WOooosh out came baby and I couldn't believe it. I don't know, I just sat back and boom had a baby in my arms. A huge awesome beautiful little boy who I knew immediately. My hubs sat behind me in the tub. I was in shock. No tears (I always imagined crying tears of joy at that moment), just in awe.
I got a couple of stitches and told my MW after the stitches heal she's not allowed to be around my vagina any more. After all that I was still a joker.
So Arlo Daniel was born at 41+6. When my MW clocked in his birth at 4:10 I was like, IN THE MORNING?!
I'm still not sure how I did it. My hubs is so proud of me - he thinks I'm awesome. I can't imagine ever doing that again. Is that normal? I went into it with no preparation for pain control. Maybe next time I would try a hypno birthing program or something.
5 days PP and I'm feeling alright. Breast feeding is coming along and my baby is rad.
