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This is a long long long story. I'll post it in three parts to make it easier to read. Part one – Labor<br>
My water broke on saturday. Contraction came and went, only when lying down. Getting up would stop them completely. This went on till Monday morning when my MW and I decided it was time to pull out the big guns. Acupuncture, castor oil, cohosh, all of it.<br><br>
After the castor oil shake, I pooped everything I'd eaten in... oh say 47 years. My poor anus felt like it was shooting acid. But I didn't feel horrible, and I didnt' throw up (yet - that came later). Within an hour of drinking the shake ( that only had 2 oz of castor oil, not the recommended 4, thank god!) and acupuncture, contractions came on fast and furious. We skipped the 6-5-4 minutes apart and went straight to 3 mins apart.<br><br>
Over the next hour our birth team (whom I owe everything to) assembled. Lyn had been at the house giving me a little massage before I started contracting, so she stayed. Jackie, the best doula in the whole wide universe was also there. Our MW came back along with her assistant, and soon after I got in the tub.Much later Amy arrived to take pictures. I am so glad we had someone take so many pictures. Otherwise, i dont' know how I'd have good memories of the birth. Although seeing them makes me weep, I am so glad we have it documented.<br>
I loved the tub during labor. LOVED IT. We had our birth mix playing, and sometimes I'd sing through the contractions. Ryan and I would sometimes just stare at eachother through them, and cry. I have never felt so connected to another human being in my entire life, than I did to him during those moments. We were so intune. it was truly beautiful. I'm not saying it didn't hurt, but it wasn't horrific. I was in pain, but it seemed managable. I never once asked for drugs, and although I know more than once I said "ok I'm done now" or "I want this to end", I dont' remember feeling helpless, or like I really couldn't go on. I know everyone says to their spouse at some point during labor that it's 'all their fault' and all that crap. I never once felt any anger or anything towards Ryan. More so, I felt so much love for him for giving me the opportunity, for being my partner in this journey and for helping me make it happen.<br><br>
At some point, my MW checked me and I was 5 cm dilated. HOLY HELL that hurt. I only agreed to one more check, and that was before pushing. I remember yelling and crying and telling her she was hurting me. Apparently (Ellie told me later) that the baby was low, and my cervix, although dilating like a superstar was behind, so she pulled it forward. Mmmm. that was fun. I believe I called her a fucking dominatrix. We were all surprised and happy that I was already at 5. I remember Ellie saying that the baby was so low I wouldn't have to push for a long time. Oh how we all wish she'd never said that.<br>
Several hours later, she checked again, and I was complete (there may be more in there, like I THINK there was a bit of a lip that they wanted to pull out of the way, but I'm not sure). This was at about 9:30 at night.<br>
I hated pushing in the water. Hated it. I hated being on all fours. I hated squating. I hated the birth stool. The only position (which I was not interested in trying at first) was on my back with people holding my legs up. Funny, eh? So we began pushing. I also know so many people say that pushing feels good. Eh.. not so much. I felt vulnerable. Like I was going to burst open.Not a good feeling.<br>
More of the same.<br>
For hours.<br>
I tried eating. Mmmm strawberry barf. Then bile barf. mmmmmm bile.<br>
More of the same.<br>
I vaguely remember any of it. Eventually I was so tired, I would lie on my side, on the bed between contractions, either focusing on the music or completely crashed out. Then, as soon as I felt a contraction, I'd roll on my back and shout "i need to push" and whomever was lying next to me on the bed or on the floor next to the bed would grab my legs and i'd push. Some contractions i'd get three pushes in sometimes 4. None of them were really doing much at this point. People were crashed out all over the house, taking shifts helping me push. I was oblivious. Morning came.<br>
At this point Ellie tells me that the baby just isn't decending. She tells me that we need to make some decisions. Her plan is to try and get some food in me, and some IV fluids. Some Oxygen to wake up my uterus. Molly is called back for more acupuncture. I take more herbal tincture (don't ask what, i have no clue). For a moment, the contractions are stronger, and closer together, and i try and try to push. i push like an animal. The baby moves a bit with each push, but goes right back up. No progress. I have been pushing for 13 hours.. An hour later, we decide that the only thing to do is transfer. Everyone cries.<br><br>
Bags are packed, and we leave for the hospital. Now that I know the contractions aren't doing anything, they become unbearable. For the first time, more than anything, I want drugs. I just want it all to stop.<br><br>
I feel like a failure.
My water broke on saturday. Contraction came and went, only when lying down. Getting up would stop them completely. This went on till Monday morning when my MW and I decided it was time to pull out the big guns. Acupuncture, castor oil, cohosh, all of it.<br><br>
After the castor oil shake, I pooped everything I'd eaten in... oh say 47 years. My poor anus felt like it was shooting acid. But I didn't feel horrible, and I didnt' throw up (yet - that came later). Within an hour of drinking the shake ( that only had 2 oz of castor oil, not the recommended 4, thank god!) and acupuncture, contractions came on fast and furious. We skipped the 6-5-4 minutes apart and went straight to 3 mins apart.<br><br>
Over the next hour our birth team (whom I owe everything to) assembled. Lyn had been at the house giving me a little massage before I started contracting, so she stayed. Jackie, the best doula in the whole wide universe was also there. Our MW came back along with her assistant, and soon after I got in the tub.Much later Amy arrived to take pictures. I am so glad we had someone take so many pictures. Otherwise, i dont' know how I'd have good memories of the birth. Although seeing them makes me weep, I am so glad we have it documented.<br>
I loved the tub during labor. LOVED IT. We had our birth mix playing, and sometimes I'd sing through the contractions. Ryan and I would sometimes just stare at eachother through them, and cry. I have never felt so connected to another human being in my entire life, than I did to him during those moments. We were so intune. it was truly beautiful. I'm not saying it didn't hurt, but it wasn't horrific. I was in pain, but it seemed managable. I never once asked for drugs, and although I know more than once I said "ok I'm done now" or "I want this to end", I dont' remember feeling helpless, or like I really couldn't go on. I know everyone says to their spouse at some point during labor that it's 'all their fault' and all that crap. I never once felt any anger or anything towards Ryan. More so, I felt so much love for him for giving me the opportunity, for being my partner in this journey and for helping me make it happen.<br><br>
At some point, my MW checked me and I was 5 cm dilated. HOLY HELL that hurt. I only agreed to one more check, and that was before pushing. I remember yelling and crying and telling her she was hurting me. Apparently (Ellie told me later) that the baby was low, and my cervix, although dilating like a superstar was behind, so she pulled it forward. Mmmm. that was fun. I believe I called her a fucking dominatrix. We were all surprised and happy that I was already at 5. I remember Ellie saying that the baby was so low I wouldn't have to push for a long time. Oh how we all wish she'd never said that.<br>
Several hours later, she checked again, and I was complete (there may be more in there, like I THINK there was a bit of a lip that they wanted to pull out of the way, but I'm not sure). This was at about 9:30 at night.<br>
I hated pushing in the water. Hated it. I hated being on all fours. I hated squating. I hated the birth stool. The only position (which I was not interested in trying at first) was on my back with people holding my legs up. Funny, eh? So we began pushing. I also know so many people say that pushing feels good. Eh.. not so much. I felt vulnerable. Like I was going to burst open.Not a good feeling.<br>
More of the same.<br>
For hours.<br>
I tried eating. Mmmm strawberry barf. Then bile barf. mmmmmm bile.<br>
More of the same.<br>
I vaguely remember any of it. Eventually I was so tired, I would lie on my side, on the bed between contractions, either focusing on the music or completely crashed out. Then, as soon as I felt a contraction, I'd roll on my back and shout "i need to push" and whomever was lying next to me on the bed or on the floor next to the bed would grab my legs and i'd push. Some contractions i'd get three pushes in sometimes 4. None of them were really doing much at this point. People were crashed out all over the house, taking shifts helping me push. I was oblivious. Morning came.<br>
At this point Ellie tells me that the baby just isn't decending. She tells me that we need to make some decisions. Her plan is to try and get some food in me, and some IV fluids. Some Oxygen to wake up my uterus. Molly is called back for more acupuncture. I take more herbal tincture (don't ask what, i have no clue). For a moment, the contractions are stronger, and closer together, and i try and try to push. i push like an animal. The baby moves a bit with each push, but goes right back up. No progress. I have been pushing for 13 hours.. An hour later, we decide that the only thing to do is transfer. Everyone cries.<br><br>
Bags are packed, and we leave for the hospital. Now that I know the contractions aren't doing anything, they become unbearable. For the first time, more than anything, I want drugs. I just want it all to stop.<br><br>
I feel like a failure.