Hey everyone! I’m finally getting around to writing my birth story (which I had fantasies before Lennox was born of being able to write from the hospital bed–idiot) almost 1 month to the day that my absolutely beautiful, perfect, adorable, and always entertaining son, Lennox was born.
Now that I got out of the way what every parent is supposed to say about their kid (i meant it though!), I will be very real about the whole experience from here on out. Though I come out of my birth story not having felt that it was traumatic, if you are trying to avoid birth stories that may have negative aspects to them, you may want to tune back in after you’ve delivered. I’ve also sectioned off with ****** to let you know when something could be considered negative if you absolutely can’t avoid it and want to here about THE BIG DAY. There are no pictures of my hoo hoo or really much talking about my hoo hoo, but there are descriptions of pain. Also, I plan on being a little light about my care, because I’m planning on writing three other blogs on my pre- and postnatal care, as well as the labor and delivery aspect of having a midwife. As always, there will be cussing. Leave now if that bothers you because it sure as hell doesn’t bother me.
Wednesday, April 2nd, 2014
I worked a normal 8 hour work day, with no contractions or any abnormal feelings. A couple contractions here and there, which I’d grown to totally ignore, since I’d been having them off and on for over a month, and the general uncomfortable-ness that comes with being 4 days from your due date. I wasn’t overly tired or energetic, I was just DONE. I’d had it with being pregnant. My pregnancy was PERFECT. I can’t imagine having a hard one, and certainly can’t imagine having a hard third trimester. The hardest thing I’d been through my last trimester was figuring out how to create yet ANOTHER outfit out of yoga pants and a maternity shirt. And my underwear were starting to be too small, something I didn’t understand because it seemed like my ass was getting flatter (and wider). I left work and decided I was going to try Clary Sage essential oil to start my labor. I had been trying my best to induce myself for a couple weeks and nothing worked. I was too tired and uncomfortable to have sex round the clock, walking was what I did all day at work, and spicy food was never spicy enough. I had another essential oil blend I’d been wearing and making myself smell like a grandma for the better part of a week, practicing my birth visions and relaxation techniques to the point I was knew every word by heart, and bouncing up and down on an exercise ball every night. Nothing was happening. I got home around 5:30, fixed myself a big glass of water with two drops of Clary Sage, ate dinner, and promptly fell asleep at my normal hour of 6 pm. I woke up at midnight, called Todd who said he’d be home in a half hour or so, and sat on my exercise ball, deciding Clary Sage was bullshit as well.
Thursday, April 3rd, 2014
Todd got home and we sat around talking and eating, flirting with each other before we went to bed. I told him about the oil, decided two more drops wouldn’t hurt because everything I’d read online said 5-6 drops every few hours. I never jump into anything head first like that, but thought maybe I wasn’t taking enough and made another glass of water with two drops and we went to bed at 3 am. Some movie or something was playing in the bedroom when I remember falling asleep. I dozed off for a few short minutes when I, as Todd describes, tried to dislocate his ribs from his body by shoving my fingers into his side and lifting/tensing up with all my might. Once I caught my breath, I was able to apologize and explain that I had just had the absolute strongest contraction I’d felt so far.
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A Brief Word on Contractions
Honestly, contractions are, in my opinion, theWORSTMUTHAFUCKIN part of having a baby. These are menstrual cramps from hell– you know what, no, I refuse to describe them that way. I read thousands upon thousands of blogs, books, testimonials, pamphlets,WebMD, andBabyCenter and they were described this way in every one of them. They start to feel like cramps, but you very quickly realize no, you’re actually dying. You’re not having a baby, you’re being ripped apart at the gut by some sort of beyond-your-control force and you actually could be dying in your head. They start in the front, where the ladies reading are used to pain being, and work their way around like all-enveloping hands that go behind your back like the worst hug of all time from a 2nd grader who just won an adult Strong Man competition. I felt like the devil was in me, and it was. It’s name…was Clary Sage.
I woke up during that contraction and really thought, “Wait, I didn’t think that was supposed to hurt that much”. And to be clear, I poisoned myself (not really) with Clary Sage. I read two days after Lennox was born that Clary Sage is to be used once labor starts and aids in progression. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?! Thanks a lot, whatever-website-didn’t-mention-that-part. Anyway, by this point it was 4 am and my contractions came one after the other. I moved to the living room with Todd where I started my relaxation tapes and tried to roll around on the exercise ball for a little while. I let about two more contractions come before I told Todd the midwife needed to be called because something was wrong. There was no way contractions were supposed to be so quick and so painful. Nothing I’d read told me I was progessing normally. Todd called the midwife and our least favorite one from the office called back. Todd explained to her that my contractions were really strong and very close together and that he was speaking for me. She insisted on talking to me on the phone. By the way, it was in my birth plan that anything they needed to get out of me besides the baby they could get from Todd, but my birth plan never made it to the hospital and it was pretty much null and void and had to be relayed every time we hit a new spot in my labor. He finally gave me the phone where I told Dragon Midwife I felt like my contractions were too strong and too close together. She reminded me that I’d been in on Monday and was only dilated to a 1 and “honey, you’re probably not in advanced labor”. She also told me that even though I felt like my contractions were every 30 seconds to a minute apart, I must be mistaken and “think” they were that close together, to go get in the bath, and have Todd time them. I was pissed. I had Todd start the bath while I rolled around on the floor, couch, ottoman, whatever I saw in my view, through the pain. By the time we started timing them they were 1.5 – 2 minutes apart every. single. time. If you don’t know about labor, it’s not supposed to start out like that. Todd and I had plans to labor at home until my contractions REACHED that point, and that’s how they STARTED. The bath was nice and gave me a chance to breathe and talk in between, but as soon as it cooled a little they were terrible again.
I got out of the tub and told Todd it was time to start calling everyone and go to the hospital. I was only 2 hours into my labor and felt like a total failure. I had tried to prepare myself as best I could and here I was being a total pussy. I writhed in pain, screaming in our bedroom, while Todd put the last minute things from the list into the hospital bag and loaded the car. I crawled on my hands and knees down the hall. I was really being productive and helpful by yelling at Todd to “HURRY THE FUCK UP, BABE, WE NEED TO GO,” and “JUST PUT THE STUFF ON THE LIST IN THE GODDAMN BAG,” and “DON’T FORGET SOME FUCKIN SNACKS AND CONTACT SOLUTION”. Honestly, that’s how I talk anyway, but this time it was in caps.
We got in the car and actually had a pretty good car ride that I didn’t kill anyone or myself on. It seemed if I took my mind off what was happening (and stopped listening to the dump relaxation tapes), tried to have a good time with Todd through terrified laughter, and sang along to music from shows we’d been to together, my contractions weren’t that bad. So naturally, a hospital is exactly where we should have been going (kidding).
We pulled up to the valet parking area after I yelled at Todd he was going the wrong way (he wasn’t) and went in. I signed paperwork, smiled at everyone, even went through my purse for anything that would set off the metal detectors. Then they put me in a wheelchair and we sat in a hallway for 20 minutes so my contractions could get good and painful again. Right when my moaning started waking the dead, someone from triage came and got us. We were put in a tiny room where I was told the midwives were on shift change (thank God Dragon Midwife would be gone) and our favorite midwife would be right in. I could have cried because my contractions were bad again and Angel Midwife was someone I respected and believed would shoot straight about what was going on. The nurse thought I might be dehydrated and hooked me up to an IV of fluid and a monitor to see if my contractions would slow down, and I got prepared to wait it out until Angel Midwife could see how my baby-maker was doing. Angel Midwife came in, I cried a little because I was happy to see her, she checked me and told me I was only at a 2, and I let out a very small, defeated, “fuuuuuuck”. She said she could definitely see from the monitor that my contractions were very strong (it’s an ink needle on a piece of paper and the peaks were off the friggin paper) but they couldn’t admit me to labor and delivery until I was dilated to a 4 and that maybe I’d be sent home. I threw up with my next contraction.
Yall, I have never in my life thrown up from pain. Todd has only seen me throw up once and that was a bad acid trip that I found out later wasn’t acid. I hate throwing up, and to do so in front of other people with hardly no clothes on is not my idea of a good time. I remember looking at Todd after I vommed thinking I was the biggest sissy I’d ever met. I thought I was destined for an “emergency-not-really-an-emergency C-Section birth that would set me up for C-Section births for the rest of my child-bearing days. At that point, Angel Midwife checked me again, I was a 3, and after hearing my cries and yelling and moaning and seeing my writhing around, admitted me to labor and delivery even though I wasn’t at a 4.
I decided to walk thinking I couldn’t possibly ride in a wheelchair the whole way. I had to stop 2 times on the walk there, grip the walls through a contraction, and try not to puke again. We got to a room with a labor tub (I was so happy about this) and got settled. Everyone started filling the tub, turning on machines, and getting instruments ready. I screamed every minute and a half. The labor and delivery nurses came in, introduced themselves, and told me I could have as natural delivery as I wanted, but did I want to think about any kind of aid. I asked for something for the pain because I really couldn’t form whole sentences in between contractions and the only option would be passed to Lennox, so I asked about nitrous. They told me that was mostly for advanced labor. If I had my head I would have insisted on trying it anyway, but I moved on. The nurse told me if I wanted an epidural not to wait until I was in unbearable pain because it would take a minute for anesthesia to get to my room. I caught my breath, looked around the room from a hunched-over position at the sink, and said “bring it now”. Then I looked at Todd and said “And I’m not going to feel bad about it.” Up until this point we’d planned on a completely natural birth. I wanted to be able to do this the way I knew in my heart I was built to do it, but I just couldn’t. Remember when it was 4 am? It was now noon and I’d only dilated a centimeter. I decided on the epidural because I wanted to LIKE having a baby. I wanted to look back and think of it as truly beautiful and amazing, the way I’d read in so many other birth stories. If I continued with nothing to help me, I might have some real mental trauma about Lennox coming into the world, and negatively was the last way I wanted to look at him.
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An epidural meant I’d have to have a catheter, so Angel Midwife helped me to the bathroom totry and pee. She crouched in front of me and we were alone in the bathroom. I cried a little and said “I feel like a big sissy. I just wanted to do it naturally.” She replied with “Maddy, you did do it naturally. You labored for an entire work shift with nothing to help you. Most women start labor with a contraction here or there for a few hours. They can talk and work through them. You started off labor like you should be pushing, but only dilated like you could clean your whole house, work, and run errands and feel fine. You get to have a more relaxed birth, which is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”Yall, I can never explain how at ease she put me alone in the bathroom whilei tried to pee through contractions. I was able to completely put aside that I had failed, and realize that I still had total control over the birth of my son. That conversation gave me the positive attitude I’d felt like I kept through my whole pregnancy and let me relax like no old lady insisting I envision myhoo hoo opening like a blooming flower on a recording could do.
I got back on the hospital bed and someone started saying something about something they were going to give me for anxiety to calm me down. They believed (and I don’t blame them) that my contractions were too strong and close together for them to insert the epidural correctly while I writhed and screamed. Whatever they gave me was MUTHAFUCKINAMAZBALLS. As soon as they pushed the plunger down, everything got very sparkly and I felt amazing. I have no idea what it was to this day, and that’s probably a good thing, because this shit made me feel like EVERYTHING was perfect. It only lasted for a few minutes. I remember the doctors telling me “This is the worst part” of the epidural and looking at Todd and saying “That feels good.” My contraction were so bad the epidural felt good, ladies and gentlemen. Two minutes in, my legs were completely numb and I was happy again.
From this point out, my labor lasted another 14 hours. Before you naysayers start up, my labor was not slowed down because of the epidural. I am a first time mother, whose labor could have naturally lasted, on average, anywhere from 12 to 72 hours. My labor actually progressed on its own, in a normal time frame, leaving no need for pitocin or any other drugs. I was at a 3 when my epidural went in, and was at a 6 three hours later. My water broke on it’s own, and never felt rushed to progress. Angel Midwife checked my dilations only because we were curious at how differently my labor had become (it was in my birth plan to not do vaginal exams- they hurt without an epidural and can push bacteria allupinthere). I only include this because I’ve been told that 22 hours is entirely too long, but 22 hours is totally normal. I wasn’t even required to come to the hospital until 24 hours after my water would have broken. People assume labors should be short because a few of the drugs used in hospital births speed things up. This is not the case with a natural birth, or with one where the only drug introduced is merely a numbing agent that doesn’t cross the placenta. Some people will argue with me on this one, and I’m not a doctor, but I do know that there was never any distress on my baby or me my entire labor, and from what I’ve been told and read, Lennox never felt numbed from the epidural. Pitocin is found in cord blood and so are other pain medications, but I never had anything else.
((You see what I’m doing here? I’m justifying my decisions. As you may have read in my last post, pregnancy introduces a whole new form of guilt about things that matter to other people based on their experiences and shouldn’t to the actual pregnant person)
Friday, April 4th, 2014 (4/4/14 how cool is that?)
Close to midnight shiftchange new Angel Midwife told me I was dilated to a 10 and could start pushing in about an hour. My whole family came in, gave me hugs and “good luck”s and Todd snuck me food to eat while I prepared mentally to get to see my baby. Todd’s sister stayed in the delivery room to be emotional and physical support during delivery. We dimmed the lights, put something in my oil diffuser to give me strength and courage, and we did some practice pushing. My obsession with watching YouTube birthing videos paid off. I felt like I knew exactly what I was doing and could do it well. I got encouragement from the nurse, Angel Midwife #2, and from Todd and his sister. Todd counted through my contractions so I knew how long to push and Lindsey helped Todd hold my legs back and my head up when I was feeling tired. We tried different positions for pushing (as many as I could, considering I couldn’t feel from my boobs down). After every push I got words of encouragement from the few people in the room, and the oxytocin was flowing so steadily through my body that I actually felt like I was rolling balls. I tuned everything and pushed for an hour and a half.
2 am
NICU was in our room because after my water broke the bag resealed (yeah, it can do that) and when Angel Midwife rebroke it, there was meconium in the fluid. My son shit his pants. To avoid the risk of the poop water being in Lennox’s lungs, NICU was there to keep him from crying and suction all the fluid out before it was inhaled and could potentially cause an infection. I pushed and pushed (which did not hurt at all) and out came his head, but face down. He had a whole head of hair.
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The room was very quiet and relaxed as I started to pant out his body, but his shoulders got stuck and his heart rate plummeted. At the time I didn’t know anything about this. I was so in the zone pushing that I didn’t get distracted. My contractions were abnormally long and strong for the entire 22 hours I was in labor, even after the epidural. Lennox’s heart rate never changed. He’s a strong baby. His heart rate changing so quickly was cause for concern, and somewhere they figured out his shoulders were stuck. I gave some more pants and Angel Midwife #2 hooked his armpits and pulled him out. Todd didn’t get to cut the cord, and he was rushed to the baby bed in our room. A few very quiet minutes went by while I delivered the placenta and looked around at everyone hoping everything was ok.
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We heard a baby-loud cry and everyone in the room started laughing and crying and we were all so happy. I was told later I was so good at pushing Angel Midwife sat in a chair across the room while I listened to my body and my instinct to push when i felt a contraction. Even with the epidural, I could see and feel my belly tense up, but had none of the painful feelings like before, so I could lead myself on when I could push. I could also differentiate between which contractions I could rest and which were good ones to push. I also had two people who were really great partners to have in the delivery room, Lindsey knowing what I was going through, how to read monitors, and how to help me, and Todd keeping the best steady counting rhythm, the softest touch, and the sweetest face to look up at in between pushes.
Lennox Cash was born at 2:12 am, 7 lbs 6oz, 20 or 21 inches long, I can’t remember, with a full head of reddish brown-blonde hair and huge feet. Seeing him was the icing on the cake to what I can look back on as an over-all great birth experience.
(But contractions still really fucking hurt.)
“Oh, ya know, just havin contractions over here.”
Right after the final push
Lennox Cash
So, I'm a Mom Now 