- 3 years ago
- Wedding: July 2012
Hi everyone! It took me almost a week and a half to write this, and believe it or not I got most of it done when I was home alone versus having DH here to help, lol. I have no idea how that happened, but at any rate, here is my non-epi birth story!
So a few weeks ago I started having some false labor signs, so on March 30 after my nap at 4:30, I figured my cramping was just that or the fact that I had eaten a Fiber One bar earlier, and I was getting gassy. These cramps were just like period cramps, so I could ignore them for the most part. I worked through them, but then I went to the bathroom and noticed some blood on the toilet paper as well as some stuff in the toilet. I called L&D to make sure what I was experiencing was my mucus plug, even though I thought I had already lost that sucker a few weeks prior. They said that’s more than likely what it was.
We had a storm brewing that night that was set to begin at 7:00p. Blizzard with 6-12 inches of snow, so at 7 when my contractions/cramping were at about 12-15 minutes apart lasting about 20 seconds, I called L&D again to see if they recommended coming in. They told me I could definitely come if I felt uncomfortable staying home, but typically they won’t keep me unless my contractions were lasting a minute every 7-10 minutes. The nurse said to get some sleep rather than count them and perhaps they will pass. She said if they start to wake me up that’s when I truly needed to come. We decided to stay home because we didn’t want to drive all the way down there, get snowed in, and possibly miss work the next day if it were all a false alarm.
We went to bed at 10:30. Before that my contractions seemed to be so sporadic and farther apart so I quit counting and tried to sleep. It seemed every time I’d fall asleep I’d get woken up by one. I just felt very uneasy, especially thinking of the pieces of bloody tissue stuff when I’d go to the bathroom, so at 12:30a I woke DH and said I was worried. He started timing out my contractions and he himself got worried when less than 5 minutes they were coming on. We surveyed the weather outside and it was whiteout. It was snowing hard, and the wind wasn’t helping anything. DH packed the pickup while I got dressed. We decided to head to my hospital, which was 75 miles away rather than stop at the nearest hospital 7 miles away that has no baby doctor on staff. We figured that with the storm as bad as it was we wouldn’t waste time at a hospital that couldn’t really accommodate us to the fullest. We also held off calling my parents because we didn’t want my mom talking us out of it or calling an ambulance to come get me (although that might have been the safest).
It was an absolutely horrible drive. At one point while getting onto the interstate we couldn’t even see the on ramp. At times we could barely see 5 feet in front of the vehicle. I think top speed on the highway was 40 (lowest was 20) and interstate was 60 (lowest was 30 when we had to pass a vehicle). DH was very calm through it so I wouldn’t get too anxious and in worse shape than I already was, but the other night he admitted that he had several panic attacks when he couldn’t see the front of the vehicle. The storm quit about 10 minutes from the hospital, so we got a few good minutes of driving thankfully. The hospital staff couldn’t believe that we drove through that. We got to the hospital at about 3:30a and settled in shortly after. My nurse was amazing. She did a check and asked me to guess how many cm dilated I was, so I guessed 4. I was at a 6! I couldn’t believe I had labored at home for so long, and it wasn’t that bad for me. She was really proud of how well I had done thus far. She said she read through my birth plan and asked if I was still opposed to the epi, and I said yes, so she told me I had access to everything I wanted to help get me through. Contractions started to get a little more intense and closer together at times. I labored on my back most of the time, but we did try the birthing ball. In my birth plan, I was so adamant about having access to a shower, ball, rocking chair, etc and I can tell you I used pretty much none of it. I tried the birthing ball, and I hated it. I had such a hard time using it properly with my contractions. Every time I would swirl my hips it felt like I was having a knife shoved into my lower hips. The nurse came in and said I needed to try to hold out until 7 until my doctor would come in otherwise I would get the doctor on call. She explained that while the doctor on call was a good doctor she was also a my way or the highway kind of gal who would probably do what SHE wanted to get the baby here and not what was in my birth plan, so at that point I just prayed that my baby would stay put until 7.
I labored in bed, moaning in a low tone with each contraction (which I swear helps—do not scream or make high pitched noises if you can), and DH just aggressively massaged and applied pressure to my lower hips and back when I would go through a contraction. He would tell me when they were coming and going and would remind me to breathe when he felt I had forgotten to do it. He was so good at making me feel as though the end was near. I put my complete trust and faith in him with each contraction that he would help me get through, and he did. I still marvel at how amazing my husband was that night. At 7:00a they had a change in nurses, and I got another nurse, Laken, who was absolutely amazing. She was so sweet and encouraging. She did a cervix check at about 7:30 and said I was dilated to 6 ½ cm. I was quite let down as I thought I would have progressed more. So essentially I had just been contracting with nothing to show for it, so when my doctor came in he offered to break my water. Knowing that I was tired and didn’t have much more in me if I wanted to avoid an epi, I agreed. It didn’t feel very nice, BUT it helped my labor progress. In just under 2 hours I had progressed to 8cm. At that point I was so exhausted I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it through the birth. They offered me an epi as a last call, and I declined, but told her that I’d take some pain meds to take the edge off so they gave me some Nubane. I slept so hard between contractions (seriously, a two minute nap can happen), and I was quite lethargic and loopy, but it did its job.
The Nubane, mixed with breaking my water, finally got me up to 10:15/10:30 where it was time to push. I cannot tell you how many times I felt like throwing in the towel. It was so hard to get good pushes in, and I was getting so discouraged when both the nurse and DH would tell me that his head kept going back in. Neither Laken nor DH gave up on me though. DH said that when I would tell him I couldn’t do it, he didn’t know what to say, but then Laken would say, “Yes you can. You’re too close to give up now!” and DH would follow. Every push, DH “pushed” with me, told me he could almost see the head, and told me I was doing amazing and that he loved me. I can’t put into words how reassuring he was. I reached a point where I was doing well, so Laken offered to have me watch as motivation, but I was just at the point of being done and didn’t feel like seeing anything, so she went to get my doctor. My doctor, after using some compress and lubrication said that he had to do an episiotomy. At that point I just didn’t care. I wanted my baby out. He performed the episiotomy, the head came out, then shoulders. The baby had the cord wrapped slightly around his neck because he wasn’t facing the right way, but it didn’t inhibit a healthy birth. Everyone, meaning DH, the doctor, the intern, Laken, and the other 4 staff in the room, kept telling me to give one more good push, and my son would be born.
My sweet Tristan was born at 11:27a on March 31. We got immediate skin to skin, which was perfect, but I was so out of it from the Nubane and exhaustion that all I could do was stare at DH, whose eyes filled with tears as he explained how handsome our son was and how proud he was of me. They took Tristan to the warmer to do his assessment very quickly after skin to skin. I thought he would be able to stay with me a little longer, but for whatever reason they took him pretty fast. He weighed 6lbs 15oz, and the first thing DH shouted from the warmer was, “He’s got your chin, Megz!” I had to laugh because we just talked about how we hoped he wouldn’t have my chin, but it is such a dominating feature, lol. I asked the doctor if Tristan was cute, and he said his streak of not delivering ugly babies continues (we had talked that Wednesday about homely babies, so I figured I better revive our running joke).
My happiness and jovial mood was very short lived as I delivered the placenta. Let me tell you—this was worse than childbirth. They massaged and massaged, and it just wasn’t coming. I was in so much pain and agony, clamping my legs together and writhing with every massage at how uncomfortable I was. Apparently my placenta wasn’t coming out. I felt the most excruciating pain I have ever felt in my life, which I later learned was my doctor, forearm deep inside me to grab the placenta and pull it out. Honestly, I am not quite sure how porn stars do that shit, lol. DH said it was mortifying, and my doctor looked just as upset when he was doing it (I guess he had his face crunched up because he felt so bad for putting me through it and he kept his eyes closed for some of it), but it helped me avoid a trip to the OR. My episiotomy tore further and into some rectum muscles (and gave me some mild hemmroids), so it took quite some time for the doctor to stitch me up. It was after 1 when I could finally have my little guy and look into his beautiful face and celebrate the fact that we had made such a journey together.
The nurse told me that she was so proud of me, and she was amazed at how wonderful and strong I was. She said as a first time mom, a lot of women would have given up when I didn’t. It felt really good to hear that. All the ladies in the room said the same thing. My doctor came back in to check on me and give me the run down of how things went. He said he was sorry he had to put me through that much pain, but he was glad he was able to get it out without having to send me to surgery, and I was too.
We were moved to our room, which was amazing. When I took the hospital tour, the room they showed us was small and had a couch for DH and a hospital bed for me, but because of the immense torture I was put through they gave me the good room, lol. We got a double bed so we could sleep together, a couch, rocking chair, table and two chairs, and vanity outside the bathroom (and the bathroom had a tub with jets). We were able to get a little bit of rest. Well, DH did while I just held my son and marveled at how wonderful he was and while I learned to breastfeed and got checked over for the next few hours.
I will be sure to write a recovery post, but I cannot tell you how rewarding being a mom is. In the hospital, I learned to change diapers before DH, and he made it his mission to become a champion swaddler, and by God is he ever (and taught me just the other night since our son likes swaddle blankets a bit more than the swaddle sacks). Anyway, I will write my recovery story soon, but in the meantime I am enjoying my time as a mom and figuring out a LOT of things. Being a mom is tough, tiring, and beautiful all at the same time.
On to some too cute pics!!
My proud parents. It looks like my mom is hogging him, but my dad hoards Tristan all the time.
DH is a very proud papa <3
Yes, that’s a real duckling.