I was 40 weeks pregnant on Thursday June 11, 2015. I went to
my midwife appointment mellow and uncomfortable thinking I would have the baby
a week late like I did with Regina. My mother had arrived the Tuesday prior and
we had a lovely week of swimming, shopping, eating out, cleaning and prepping
for baby. On Friday June 12, I packed clothes and camping gear for Todd, who
left work early and carpooled to a campsite near Stanley, Idaho because he was running
the Sawtooth Relay early the next morning. He had been running for months in
preparation for this race and was looking forward to it. I felt calm in letting
him go that Friday because I had my mom, a clean house, and the confidence that
this baby wasn’t coming any time in the next couple of days. Todd left around
3pm, my mom and I had dinner, put Regina to bed, watched a show and painted our
toes. We fell asleep talking and I woke several times in the night with
contractions (that I had been having for several weeks), also to pee and to
readjust myself so I could breathe, and feel more comfortable.
At 5:30 am I woke up feeling like I had wet myself a bit and
thought my water had broken. I started to panic and cry a bit, thinking the
worst (i.e. Todd was out of cell range, I was going to have a baby without my
husband, he was going to have no way of getting home until late Saturday night,
I couldn’t do this without him, why did I let him go?!?!, etc.). I went to the
bathroom and realized my water hadn’t broken, but I was losing my mucus plug.
That calmed me somewhat because I knew labor could start days later. I went
back to bed, my mom was comforting, she said a prayer for me, and I decided to
try and get as much sleep as possible. Half an hour later I began having contractions
that were one minute long and between three and five minutes apart. I called
Todd probably five times and left one message crying, hoping he would have
service and could somehow make it home.
Around 7 am I decided I wasn’t going to be able to sleep
through the contractions and took a warm bath hoping to slow them down – this
had worked for me with false labor a couple of times. It worked to slow my
contractions to six, or seven minutes apart, and the water made me much more
comfortable. Todd called me back and told me his team had just sent off their
first runner and that he would try and figure it out a way to come home (he
needed to make his way from the starting line an hour back to the campsite
where he would borrow one of the two cars his teammates had and drive it home
by himself). My incredible mother brought me a hearty and delicious breakfast in
the tub complete with eggs, pancakes, and sausage. My midwives stressed the
importance of going into labor well rested and well fed. Of course I had no
problem with that.
When I got out of the tub around 8 am, the contractions were
under a minute long, but around 3 minutes apart. I called my doula, Jamie, to
let her know what was happening and had my mom call the midwives. I told Jamie
she didn’t have to come yet, that I had my mom, that Todd was hopefully on his
way home, and that I was all right. Todd called me around 9 am to say it would
take about 3 hours to drive home, but that he was on his way. The contractions
stayed at around one minute and two to three minutes apart for hours. I hadn’t
been able to talk through them since they began at 6 am, but I could be happy
and talkative between them. For hours I leaned forward onto a stack of pillows
on my bed with my feet on the floor.
I didn’t really feel time passing at all. My contractions were very
uncomfortable and I would try to yoga breathe/exhale during them. I asked Jamie
to come after 10, and she arrived around 10:45 am. She sat next to me and I was
so happy to see her. We talked and laughed and she would be quiet while I
breathe-moaned through a contraction. I felt like if I made noise vibrations
equal to the intensity of the contraction it was more bearable, somehow. It
probably distracted me, as well.
Jamie told me that unfamiliar people in the birthing space
slowed labor down and that when Todd arrived my oxytocin levels would skyrocket
and my contractions would pick up. She was right on the money because Todd
arrived at 11:45, I was ecstatic to see and hug him, then my contractions,
which I thought had already been hard and painful, got really hard and really
painful. They were a minute long and only a minute or two apart. Jamie
communicated with my midwives and they decided it was time to gather. I’m not
sure when they arrived exactly. Probably around noon, or 1 pm. They set up
their birthing equipment in my bedroom, their personal effects and laptops in
the living room. They put an IV in my arm to administer antibiotics because I
was GBS positive towards the end of this pregnancy. By this time I had stopped
timing my contractions because they were so painful and so frequent. Sometimes
I would have one on top of another and not get to rest in between. I realized
how amazing those precious seconds of rest are in between contractions. When lying
on pillows on my stomach I could fall asleep between contractions (Todd would
too since he had a poor 3 hour night of camp-sleep).
I had three midwives – two of them I loved and one I liked,
but didn’t necessarily want in my personal space. They take turns being the
head midwife and as luck would have it, the one I felt would annoy me during
labor was in charge. This midwife, without my knowledge, had asked Jamie to
leave Todd and me to see if I labored better alone. Jamie and Todd were the
only people I wanted in my room and in my space. I didn’t want my midwife to
touch me, or talk to me. Luckily, my mom took Regina to the park and swimming,
two midwives kept mainly to the living room, and my head midwife left the room
after I snapped about Jamie’s whereabouts. Jamie returned and pressed on my
hips and back, while Todd supported me from the front for HOURS. My midwives
asked me later if Todd had been trained in birthing because he was the one
encouraging me to move and try new positions. Apparently, he was in tune with
what my body was doing and what it needed. It’s a good thing I didn’t know he
was the one making me move, or I would have gotten so angry since moving was
the absolute worst. During contractions I felt like it helped me cope to grab/squeeze/push
on Todd anywhere I could (his neck, his shoulders, his biceps, his hands). I
would just squeeze as hard as I could to cope with the pain, which was
exhausting for both of us. It’s difficult to provide a timeline after noon
because my eyes were closed nearly the entire day, I was only focused on coping
through the pain, I simply dealt with each contraction one at a time, I didn’t
notice the hour, or what anyone else was doing. I was in the zone and I was
doing it! I remember people saying I was doing a good job, but I ignored them because
I felt I wasn’t doing anything…I was just in a lot of pain. I remember vomiting
and consequently having violent contractions and my midwife telling me that
that meant I was probably in transition and “it wouldn’t be long now.” That was
around…3pm I think. I told them not to get my hopes up and that I would plan on
laboring until 8, or 9 pm so that an earlier birth would be a pleasant
surprise, and a longer labor wouldn’t be a huge disappointment.
I remember the daylight changing slowly through the blinds –
the light getting warmer and more yellow. I remember wanting to cry each time I
was told to change positions because each contraction was already so painful and
moving hurt all the more. I remember hating being asked questions because I was
in no state to listen, contemplate, or physically answer them. I remember Jamie
regularly putting a water bottle to my lips and having me drink. I remember
during many contractions, a midwife checking the baby’s heart rate. I remember
getting really shaky and weak and Jamie force-fed me a couple delicious honey
lemon sticks. I remember she massaged my feet, too. I remember dreading having
to pee because that meant moving my body from my room to the bathroom and back
again. I remember Todd supporting my weight as we went and then while sitting
on the toilet I would press my forehead into his abdomen as hard as I could. I
remember contractions changing and hurting in different places that I could
never find, or describe. I remember praying through so many contractions that I
could just make it through that single one. I remember sweating. I remember my
throat feeling sore because my exhale-moans had become full on yells as the
intensity of contractions increased. I remember from probably 2 pm - 8:30 pm thinking
that I would do anything for relief, anything for an epidural, anything for
them to cut me open, to have another C-section, for them to reach in and pull
this baby out with forceps! Why weren’t they doing it?! Why weren’t they
offering me help, or relief?! I know I never said any of this out loud, but I
knew they could see the intense pain and agony I was in and it was so much that
I couldn’t speak. I remember thinking
that we should go to the hospital so I could get the relief I needed, but there
was absolutely no way I could make it down the two flights of stairs, or
survive the car ride to the hospital. I had planned on a natural, home, vaginal
birth with wonderful midwives and a doula specifically to avoid the hospital,
the epidural that could stop my labor and end in another traumatic Cesarean
section, but while in the throes of the all-consuming pain, I didn’t care how
she came out and I just didn’t want to do it anymore. Though I felt like it, I
didn’t give up. I knew that I just had to keep going. I knew if I did nothing
except cope she would come eventually.
After about 12 hours of labor, Paula, the most experienced
midwife who owns the practice, thought they should check my cervix to see how
far along I was. They said I was 100% dilated and that I could push. They told
me to squat with my arms on Todd’s legs to support me, bear down and push. It
was all the energy I could muster to push and groan. I could feel at the end of
my pushes that my muscles were close to being productive and almost moving the
baby down, but I couldn’t quite get there. It would require more effort that I
didn’t feel I could give. I was so tired. I pushed like this for a while – I
have no idea how long – when they suggested we break my waters so the pushes
would be more productive, and gravity would help a lot more. I told them I
didn’t care, mainly I didn’t want them to talk to me, and I didn’t feel like
discussing, I just wanted progress. They punctured the bag of waters and soon I
felt so much more pain and pressure all around my pelvis.
By this time, two or three of the midwives were in the room,
in addition to Jamie, Todd, and sometimes my mom. They told me I could feel the
baby’s head just 3 inches away. I know in my birth plan I included feeling the
baby, and I’m sure they thought it would give me a jolt of excitement and help
me see the light at the end of the very long, dark, excruciating tunnel, but I
didn’t want to because it would require moving and bending forward and both of
those were far too uncomfortable. They helped me feel her head between
contractions, but I was not in the right mindset and it didn’t do the trick. I yelled loudly as I pushed and my mom
had to take Regina and leave the apartment because she thought I might be dying.
They had me try several positions. I tried my best to push as hard as I could
while simultaneously trying not to defecate in a room full of people. I could
not do both. I know it happens all the time, but I was humiliated and really
uncomfortable with it. I tried to clear it from my mind so I could focus on the
most important task at hand.
Finally, when I was really close, they had me lay down on my
left side and Todd held my right leg. I could tell everyone in the room was
excited and could see the end, but I didn’t feel that way. I was still in pain, I was so exhausted, and I was not the least
excited. They told me to push as hard as I could (side note: the entire two
hours I pushed, not once did I have the urge to push). It is challenging to
describe, but during a good, long push it didn’t feel productive until the very
end, at which point I would have to keep pushing. It was sort of like exhaling
all of the way and then trying to exhale even further. I would give it all I
had and then when I felt like I had expended all my strength pushing, the baby
wouldn’t progress unless I pushed even more. I started to whimper (I tried to
cry, but was too exhausted and it took too much energy) as I tried to tell Todd
I had to give up, that I couldn’t do it anymore, but instead I think the words
that came out were, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Jamie held a mirror so I
could see what was happening. I saw the huge bulge the baby’s head had created
and felt the searing hot pain it caused as everything stretched. It was like
sharp, hot knives slicing my skin, just as my mother had described. At the end
of a good push, I could see the top of her head! However, once relaxed, her
head would retreat and I would get so discouraged. This is when everyone in the
room turned into a cheerleader calling out words of encouragement like, “She’s
so close! You’re almost there!” “That was a wonderful push!” “You’re doing so
great!” I noticed that I was holding back from pushing her out because the pain
was so sharp and I would recoil. I realized that if I just pushed her out as
fast as I could, the pain I dreaded would intensify, but would end it all. I
could finally see the end of labor. My will to get her out overpowered my fear
of tearing and pain. I pushed that head passed my skin’s stretching point and
screamed like you would imagine a woman being sliced open would scream. It
wasn’t only a scream of pain, though. It was coupled with the grunt of pushing
her head out.
I had a flood of endorphins and emotions at this point. Seeing
her head come out was absolutely insane. There was a relatively large, purple, scrunchy,
gremlin face actually sticking out of me. I took one, or two breaths, and
finally I had the urge to push. It felt good to push only that once and then
her slippery body shot out of me quickly. I cannot describe the incredible
relief and relaxation I felt once she had come out. The only other experience I
have to compare it to is when I had a kickboxing match. Each round was the
longest two minutes of my life. It was the closest I had ever been to fight-or-flight
mode, and it really felt like survival, not only to keep fighting this other
girl, but also to survive the 6 minutes we were in the ring. My lungs and every
muscle felt like death during the match, and though completely exhausted at the
end of it, I had an amazing high and such relief. That’s what giving birth was
like, but times a million. I felt tired, exhausted, drained, but incredibly
relieved, satisfied, indestructible and undefeated.
Paula seemed concerned at my blood loss and the fact that I
wasn’t having any more contractions, but had yet to deliver my placenta. They
gave me a shot (that felt like a stab and a bruise) of pitocin in my thigh and
out came the placenta.
I wasn’t strapped to a table, unconscious, hearing my baby
cry and unable to wake up. I didn’t wake up in a recovery room alone, suddenly no
longer pregnant, my baby cut out and taken from me, wondering where my husband,
baby, and family were. This time I had given birth to a healthy child in my
room, on my own (with the essential help and support of my incredibly talented,
loving birth team). I had been in charge this time. I held my baby girl as soon
as she came out, Todd cut the thick, rubbery cord, and she nursed after about
twenty minutes. Todd, my mom and I cried like babies. It was an amazing
feeling. Everyone buzzed around me taking pictures, making phone calls, doing
laundry, cleaning up, and talking. I felt an incredibly deep calm and
contentment. I was tired, but so happy. Paula rubbed my legs, my mom brought me
a huge order of Pad Thai with some lemon Pellegrino, and I just held my baby.
After two midwives had given hugs they left to attend
another birth. Jamie busied herself in the kitchen and Shaundra, the head
midwife, administered some lidocaine and stitched me up. I was so relaxed and
felt so much love for everyone. It was like being on drugs. She weighed our
baby, gave her a shot, did her first newborn screening, and some other newborn
things. It was so lovely to lie in my own clean, queen-sized bed in a room with
plenty of space for Todd, my mother, Jamie, and my midwives. I was taken care
of so completely. Everything was calm and orderly and after such a long day of
labor, I was fed and tucked into bed with my husband and baby. I know I hated
the experience during labor, but I also know that it healed the heartache and
trauma from Regina’s birth and made me feel powerful and capable. It was the
hardest and most physically painful thing I have had to endure, but I needed it
and now I know I can do it.
Baby girl was born June 13th, 2015 at 8:41pm
8 lbs. 12 oz.
20 inches long
We named her Ivy Grace Carman when she was three days old
