Birth Story

I went back and forth many times about posting this. I struggled with whether or not sharing my birth story was "over-sharing" or not. It doesn't get much more personal than giving birth, and I have always been somewhat uncomfortable with talking about personal things. But at the same time I love reading other women's birth stories. Having a baby is one of the most significant, special moments in a person's life, and of course I would want to share that. Also, I find reading others' birth stories to be beautiful, so I assume that some people out there feel the same way.

Looking back on the day my daughter was born, it was both the hardest and the best day of my life. How is that possible? Well, anyone who has had a baby will probably understand. At the time I was going through pregnancy and labor I didn't want to share any details with hardly anyone - it was just too personal. But now that it's in the past, I feel more comfortable with it. So I decided to post a "cleaned up" version of my story. I left out many of the more graphic details, but I still caution you - if you're uncomfortable with birth stories, obviously you should skip reading this post.

My Daughter's Birth Story

Saturday, October 19^th

I worked my full 9-hour day on Friday, but wrapped up everything I had going on at work, hoping that it would be my last day in the office. I was feeling pretty good, so I told my co-workers that I was planning not to be back the next week, but if I still felt this good, I might come in on Monday and Tuesday. I had an appointment on Wednesday, so I was planning not to work that day or from that point on.

I was having contractions throughout the day on Saturday, but they were not painful, so I thought they were still just pre-labor contractions like I had been having off and on for weeks. These were a little stronger though, and were accompanied sometimes by cramps, which was new. I was feeling so poorly by the evening that we weren’t sure if we would make it to church on Sunday.

Sunday, October 20^th

I woke up in the morning around 1:30am with stronger contractions than I had felt before. And the crampy feelings were getting very painful. I watched the clock as I lay in bed, and after about 40 minutes I realized that I couldn’t sleep through these, and they were coming only five minutes apart or so. They weren’t consistent, but the longest interval in that time frame was seven minutes. I woke up Jonathan and told him what was going on. After we timed them for another half hour or so, he convinced me to call my doctor and ask about them, since they had been coming five minutes apart for over an hour. I called the exchange, and they connected me with my OB, who was fortunately on call. She said to keep timing them, and if they got stronger and were consistent for a while longer, I could go to the hospital. We tried to sleep some more, but I couldn’t sleep through them at all, and they were getting more painful. I got in the shower and they sped up to two to three minutes apart and continued to get more painful. We ended up going to the hospital around 6am.

When we got to the hospital we went to triaging and they monitored the baby for a while. She was doing really well, and when I was checked I was three centimeters dilated and 90% effaced. They told me I could walk around for an hour and they would re-check me at 7:30. We walked around between contractions, with me leaning on the wall and waiting for each one to pass while Jonathan rubbed my back. I was feeling them in my lower back the entire time. When they re-checked me, they said I was four centimeters, and they admitted us and moved us to a Labor and Delivery room.

While in the triaging room I found out that I had tested positive for GBS. My doctor must have forgotten to mention that to me, and I must have forgotten to ask about it, because I didn’t know until the nurse said that it was in my chart. That meant that I would have to have antibiotics during labor, which had to be administered through an IV. I had really hoped to avoid an IV, so I was very disappointed, and also frustrated with myself for forgetting to follow up and ask about the results to that test. Fortunately, because of my penicillin allergy, they had to give me a different drug than the one usually administered, and the one they gave me only had to be given every eight hours during labor, as opposed to every four hours with the standard drug. They allowed me to do intermittent monitoring and administered the antibiotic during the first round of monitoring so that I would be able to disconnect the IV and move around as soon as it was administered.

While getting my IV, the anesthesiologist stopped in to see me. I was planning to go all natural, but he came anyway to talk about options just in case I changed my mind. As a young teenager I had back surgery to correct Scoliosis, and I have a long spinal fusion and rods in my back. I showed the anesthesiologist my x-rays and after looking at them for a few minutes he said that he would not give me an epidural. With how low my rods extended and all the scar tissue that was there, he thought it very likely that it would not work, or that there would be complications. He said that if I ended up needing an emergency C-section, he would attempt to do a spinal, but if that didn’t work it would have to be general anesthesia. At this point it didn’t bother me too much to know that I couldn’t have an epidural, because I had been planning to go without anyway.

We alternated between walking around the hospital and using the exercise ball for hours as the contractions kept coming. They were still coming around 3 minutes or so apart at this point and were very consistent. Around 1pm my doctor arrived and checked me. She said I was still only four centimeters. She wanted to start pitocin to help get things going, but I told her that I would not be able to have an epidural and was therefore afraid of the stronger, more painful contractions that I heard accompany pitocin. She agreed that in that case she would not recommend that route, and said that my other option was to go home. She said the contractions were not strong or painful enough to dilate all the way and that they might peter off or they might get stronger, but at this point they weren't strong enough for me to stay in the hospital if I wasn't progressing.

I went home. We got home around 2:30pm and I laid down with a heating pad and tried to take a nap. I may have gotten an hour or two of sleep in between the contractions. They slowed down to every 20 minutes or so, but never went away. I didn't know if our baby girl would still be born soon, or if the contractions would stop and I’d have to wait for days longer. It was stressful, and on top of that my doctor had told me that the contractions would have to be much, much more painful, which was scary since I was already in so much pain with each one.

Jonathan and I tried to go to bed Sunday night, but by 11:30pm the contractions were coming every 5 minutes again and I knew for sure that this was different. They were so much more painful than they had been earlier that day that I couldn't keep from crying out with each one. I tried getting in the shower, but they were so painful and coming so close together that the shower did nothing to alleviate the pain. I could barely stand up through them anymore.

Jonathan quickly re-packed the car and we went back to the hospital. We were admitted again just a few minutes after midnight.

Monday, October 21^st

When we were admitted I was five centimeters dilated and 100% effaced. I spent the next two or three hours on a birthing ball, with my head resting on the bed between contractions. I was so tired I could hardly think, and the contractions were so much more painful than they had been earlier in the day. They were coming so close together that I felt like I didn’t get much of a  break between each one. Jonathan sat there behind me the whole time rubbing my back and saying encouraging things. I didn’t have energy to acknowledge him, but having him there was very comforting. My water broke sometime around 2am. Around 3am or so my nurse checked me again and I was seven centimeters. I was glad to be making progress, but I didn’t know how I could possibly survive at this rate until we got to ten. I don’t know what would have happened if an epidural had been an option for me – I might very well have asked for one at some point. I hope I would have resisted the temptation, but I can't say that I would have with any confidence. They did offer to give me other pain medication through an IV, but I asked if there were side effects for the baby, and they said it would make her sleepy. I said I would see if I could go without, and I’m glad I didn’t give in, but I seriously considered it.

At this point my nurse suggested I get in the shower. I’m so glad she was there to make me do it, because it helped a lot. It didn’t really help with the pain, but I went from seven to ten in about an hour and a half or so in the shower. At that point I felt the urge to push, so I got out of the shower and went back to the bed. The nurse never told me not to push, she said I could go right ahead and she got on the phone and got everyone in the room as fast as she could. Thankfully, I only had to push for 45 minutes or so. My doctor got there about five to ten minutes before our daughter was born.

Those 5½ hours from midnight to 5:30am were easily the hardest hours of my life. Jonathan and my nurse kept reassuring me that I was doing really well, that my daughter would be here any minute, and that they could see her head, etc. I don’t think I processed any of that. I hardly knew what I was doing. But Jonathan tells me that the second that she was born it was like a switch was flipped – my face changed from one expressing sheer pain to the happiest he’d ever seen me. I think my first joyful thought on seeing her was she’s out; that means I’m not in labor anymore! Thank God, I’m done!  But instantly following that thought I really saw her, and she was so beautiful, so perfect, even all slimy and messy. They wiped her off quickly and gave her to me and I was able to hold her for the next hour and a half or so. I hardly noticed what happened next, because I had my beautiful daughter in my arms. She had so much dark hair, and she looked so much like Jonathan! We were both in love instantly.

After they were done stitching me up, the nurse helped me get her into position and start breastfeeding. She did very well at that, and I fed her for 30 minutes or so. They let me hold her while they gave her her shot and eye ointment, and she did so well with all of that. Eventually they took her and gave her a bath, but I could still see her from my bed and watched. One of the most amazing things was that while she was crying during the bath, if Jonathan or I talked to her she calmed down right away. It was so obvious that she knew our voices.

Our daughter was born at 5:36am, 6lbs, 1oz, and absolutely beautiful after over 27 hours of completely natural, medication-free labor. I can't take credit for any of that, though. She is a beautiful, miraculous gift from God, and the fact that I made it through those 27 hours on only a few hours of sleep - I can only thank God that I survived that as well.

I also have to be thankful in a strange way for my back surgery and for the anesthesiologist who refused to give me an epidural. Having that option off the table helped me resist the temptation to take the pitocin when my doctor suggested it. Clearly I didn't need it, as I gave birth all on my own about 14 hours after it was offered.  I really did want to go all-natural, and considering how very hard it was, I'm glad that it was really my only option because I very well might have had a much different, more complicated story otherwise. God really does know what He is doing!