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The Birth

My story is kind of long, but then, my labor was kind of long. :)  80
hours, start to finish.

My pregnancy was not a pretty one, though nothing major went wrong.  I had
nausea (and throwing up) for almost 5 months, followed by sciatica,
followed by a genetic disorder scare (complete with over-reactions from my
care providers), I got so many stretch marks there's no room for more the
next time, etc., etc.  My DH always said, "She may not be the poster child
for pregnancy, but she IS the poster child for attitude during pregnancy."
I was happy to be pregnant, I was fascinated by the movement of the child
inside me, I found the changes in my body amazing, I delighted in getting
reactions from Squirrel (usually to music), and I spent endless hours
patting out drum rhythms on wee Squirrel's bottom.  I could ignore the
minor and major annoyances that came with it.  I was even looking forward
to labor and delivery, not because I thought it would be painless, but
because my mother had 7 kids, and she described the births as wonderful,
amazing, passionate, powerful experiences.

I started working from home about a month before my due date.  When my
blood pressure went up a bit, my midwife suggested it might be time to go
on leave.   I agreed, and then spent the next few weeks waiting for
SOMETHING to happen.  My due date came and went.  I had appointments every
few days, and every few days I got no news.  I took evening primrose oil,
and later, black and blue cohosh as we approached induction time...  No
change.  I wasn't even a tiny bit effaced.  Finally I threw up my hands and
started layering the wife's tale inductions on top of one-another.  My mom
drove me over a bumpy cobblestone road (we took the wrong car, though - you
don't get bounced around in a Mercedes, even an old used one).  Then we had
a spicy meal at a Mexican restaurant.  Then I had a glass of red wine
(okay, ruby port), and then I danced for three hours (middle-eastern
dance/belly dance, complete with hip shimmies and belly rolls).  Finally I
gave up.  Nothing doing.  So I had some yogurt and a slice of cherry pie,
and took a nap.  When I woke up - - Oh darn, still nothing.  So I called my
sister, and we talked to all hours of the night.   I hung up at 1 AM.  I
got a drink of water, and went to bed plenty tired.  15 minutes later, my
contractions started.  They were pretty close together for just starting...
5 minutes apart, but only 15 seconds long.

I waited 45 minutes to time them before I woke my DH.  We were both
excited, me in part because I was going to have to be induced if I had gone
two more days without starting, and him, well, for the same reason, I
guess, plus all the usual reasons.  We stayed excited for a little while,
then realized that it was 3 in the morning, and maybe sleep was in order.
I couldn't sleep, though, so I went downstairs, did some "face on the
kitchen counter" rocking and swaying, had breakfast, and puttered.  At a
"reasonable" hour (7 AM) I called my mom and wished her a Merry Christmas
(even though it was November).  She called my dulahs, and everyone planned
to meet at our house at 10 AM.

A word on my birth team.  We had tee-shirts made up for this team - one
driver (me), one navigator (DH), and three pit crew (mom and two dulahs).
We put my son's footprints on the tee-shirts, plus all the people who
helped him get here got to sign the shirts (midwife, nurses).  My dulahs
were my two best friends (who are also good friends to each other).  M has
one kid, a birth-center no-drug delivery after about 17 hours of labor.  L
has two kids, one from a 57-hr labor followed by strep infection and an
emergency C, and the other kid from a VBAC of 41 hours, pitocin only.  M
helped L's professional dulah when L had her second child.  L was in
training to be a Bradley teacher.  Neither are pros, but both were very
helpful, understanding, knowledgeable, and supportive.  My mom came in as
observer, with the agreement that she could get booted if she annoyed me.
She kept to the background most of the time.  I was glad, in the end, that
she had the chance to see her grandson be born.  My DH was slow to pick up
the birth-prep learning (he was busy with classes) but once he started,
zzzzzoom!  He was off and running.  He knew stuff I hadn't even heard of.
He made a huge difference to me, especially with pain management.

Okay, skip forward a few hours- Here's me, walking around town with my DH
(or with the Dulahs), stopping for contractions, but not doing too badly.
A few hours later - here's me, sitting on a stool, relaxing through a
contraction while the dulahs made me lunch.   Then later, here's me,
chatting with a midwife on the phone (she said to come in tomorrow, unless
something changes...).  Okay, so the NEXT day, after everyone went home
overnight, and I tried vainly to sleep, we go in to the birth center.  80%
effaced, 1 cm dilated.  Darn it, I thought things were going better than
that!  Some of the contractions made my eyelids sweat!  It felt like my
ovaries were being slowly crushed with every contraction (semi-back labor,
but I didn't know it).  We were sent home after a monitor check showed the
Squirrel was doing perfectly.  I tried the drugs they gave me to sleep, but
they had ZERO effect on me, and only slowed the contractions to every 15
minutes, or whenever Squirrel moved, whichever came first (guess why we
called him Squirrel!  He almost never stopped squirming around).  No help,
and I was TIRED thank you very much.  A very early-morning call to the
midwife got us the wonderful suggestion of napping in a warm tub.  Ahhh -
that worked.  Oops - that also kicked the contractions into high gear!
Call the dulahs (who had gone home to their kids), we're going in again!

Zip forward a half-dozen hours.  A very tired midwife, a very tired and NOT
progressing me.  We tried the Jacuzzi - no help, though the pain management
turned to vocalization at that point.  We walked more.  She stripped my
membranes (though she doesn't like to do so).  No go, just much more
painful.  I got the shakes.  After 60 hours of labor, I was so tired I
couldn't have pushed more than a minute, and I was still only dilated to a
1.  After some discussion, we decided:  Epidural time.  We walked to the
hospital (a block away), and I got enough epidural to let me sleep.  I
napped on one side or the other, trying to keep the epidural even.  And
then I got a refill (2 hours later).  And - Whoa! PROGRESS!   4 cm!  His
head must have been turned a little, and the side-position turned him back.
Then 6 cm.  Then 7 cm - and internal monitoring somewhere along here (we
had one bad deceleration of the Squirrel's heart, and they got a bit
jumpy).  Then 8 - OOPS! quick stop the epidural, my legs are numb logs!
(after 12 hours and five or six refills of the epidural, I wasn't
surprised.)

Transition was a period of pure peace - so inward, I could only communicate
through sign-language (fortunately my DH and I took an ASL class together
once).   I stroked my belly with a cool damp cloth, and then - ACTION TIME.

Okay, you can't push well if your legs are numb and immobile.  I couldn't
feel the contractions, had NO urge to push, and could hardly move.  I
figure everyone was tired, and they'd gotten a little snowed by how slowly
I progressed, and they probably should have taken me off the epidural an
hour earlier.  Still, I won't blame them, they had gotten used to my rhythm
by then, and didn't expect it to change much.  I pushed with no sensation
and no sense of direction for almost 2 hours.  We tried different positions
(some just made me throw up).  NO PROGRESS (haven't I heard that before
somewhere?).  Plus, I was breathing poorly, so they had me on an oxygen
mask to keep Squirrel's O2 up (I have asthma).  Okay, there was a little
progress, but not much.  When I grunted on a slow exhale during the
pushing, it worked better than when I held my breath (so much for Bradley).
I made enough noise that the whole floor came in to visit and encourage me
(all the nurses, the OB - who stood in a corner and watched briefly but
didn't interfere, and an intern who got to see her first birth - and almost
fainted).  I didn't mind at all.  I did make my mom move across the room,
because I'd pull up to push and all I could see was her grinning at me -
not the expression I wanted right then, thanks!

Then - ah, I can feel a bit, okay - there, OH WOW! I can finally use my
abdominal muscles!  Such relief!  And one, and BREATHE, and grunt and PUSH,
and slowww belly-roll, and "WET RAG- my mouth is dry" and PUSH and PUSH -
and "Can you relax your perineum just a bit more - better, GOOD!" now PUSH
and "You'll feel the burn now - almost here" and PUSH 1-2-3-4-5-6 and PUSH
1-2-3-4-5-6 (and slide down the bed because I was counter-pulling on the
hand-grips so hard - I had to get pulled back up).  And PUSH and ANOTHER
"Don't stop, don't wait for a contraction," and PUSH, and .... whoa - that
was the head - I felt that sudden release of pressure, and some little
awareness of movement - "Don't push, the cord is wrapped!"  Wiggle, *pop*,
"Okay, Now one more big PUSH," and there - warm, wet, squawking on my
tummy, a wriggly slippery beautiful blue-eyed boy.  He threw his head back
to cough and clear his lungs, and his eyes locked on mine.  He didn't look
away (or even blink) until DH took him to be weighed and measured.  My
dear, dear DH started crying when he could see just the top of the head,
and cried on and off for an hour.  My mom just grinned so hard I thought
the top of her head might come off.  My dulahs/friends were sweet,
congratulatory, and loving.  My midwife was amazed at my strength and my
faith in myself.  One labor nurse was sourly surprised that the neonatal
emergency unit wouldn't be needed after all (she'd prepped them without
asking the midwife if it was necessary).  (I blow mental raspberries at her
for being so negative.)  I would have done the whole 80 hours again RIGHT
THEN.  (It only took 15 minutes of pushing once I could feel.)

Delivering the placenta felt like delivering a raw calve's liver, squooshy
and slippery.  The exam afterward TICKLED!!!!!  (Really, I could hardly
hold still for it.)

No episiotomy.  No tearing.  Only skid marks (minor abrasions).  8 lbs, 12
oz.  Apgars of 9 and 10.  After 80 hours of labor, he was STRONG.  He held
his head steady at one day old.  He held his weight on his legs at 2 weeks
old.  (Me, "first time mom," thought this was normal.)  He is a constant
source of delight.

Mom was right.  Amazing, powerful, passionate, triumphant.  Birth is COOL.