WARNING: Graphic content.
My due date based on LMP was 1 February. They adjusted it after ultrasound to 3 February. When these days came and went, I was exceedingly discouraged. After all, my firstborn showed up at week 39! Aren't second and later children supposed to come sooner? Well, our little son J didn't come sooner, but he came
faster than his big sister E.
I had been having Braxton-Hicks contractions for a few days, off and on. With no real regularity and no increasing pain or intensity, I paid very little attention to them. However, on Monday morning the 7th of February, something was different. I was determined to encourage these contractions to grow. We went for walks, ran errands, tried to stay busy. By three in the afternoon I was starting to get agitated by disappointment.
Was this boy ever going to make an appearance?
I decided that the BH contractions might be getting more regular and, just for kicks, started timing them around 3:30 PM. They were at first 12 minutes apart, lasting for maybe 45 seconds. In the span of maybe 45 minutes, they had regulated to 5 minute intervals, lasting a minute each. I called the L&D unit at about 4:30 to ask verification of when I should come in. The nurse who answered said, "You still sound a little perky." This is a classic sign that the nursing staff would be sending me right back home if I showed up right now. She gave the criteria:
3-4 minutes apart lasting for at least a minute with very little break in between. And painful (so I would not be "perky"). I told her I'd be there in an hour. I'm pretty sure she laughed about me with the other nurses after hanging up.
We left for the hospital and arrived about 5:45 PM. The nurse was surprised to see us. Another nurse escorted us to a room for screening. I had 2 contractions while trying to produce a urine sample. I think I came up with maybe 15 mL. Wonder what they could do with that? Finally, finally, about 6:05 PM I had a cervix check, and I was told by the nurse, "You're a 4, and I can stretch it to 5. 100% effaced." So we were admitted.
I endured yet another contraction while my dear husband searched for a room closer to the birthing tub (unfortunately the room right across the hall from it was occupied). He found one right around the corner, not too far of a walk. We then took the "stroll" to get in there. Hubby got me a fitness ball to labor on because I was having a hard time being comfortable in any position and I knew I did
not want to get on the bed. Laboring on the birthing ball was nice because I could stretch out my legs and shorten the birth canal and rock back and forth. Meanwhile, hubby massaged my hips and lower back during each contraction.
Around 8:30 PM, the on-duty OB came in for another check (they won't do it more frequently than every two hours). She said she was a conservative in measuring and said 5 cm. Could be 6.
Maybe. I was like,
"Really? After 2 1/2 hours of all that, there was very little change!?" This was in my head, of course, because I was unable to talk much. I did ask for the ONE qualified midwife who does water birth to be notified. She was not on duty but agreed to come in. About that time, about 8:45, the water was ready. And I was ready to be in it! I was hoping for the relieving qualities I'd read about.
But, the untrained staff had overheated the water. It was 110 degrees! My legs were on fire, and I had to lean over the side while half-standing to wait for them to drain some hot water and put in some cold. It had to get to 100 or lower. 95-97 degrees is preferred. Contractions were coming like crazy by this point, and suddenly I said, "Oh, something's coming out!" It was my bag of waters, slipping out of me. My husband said it looked like my vagina blew a bubble. And then it burst. I said, "It's going to get bad in a hurry now!" And it did. They tried to do a cervix check on me then, and I couldn't move into a position favorable for them to do so. I said, "It's getting
really hard not to push." I was trying every breathing technique I could think of.
Probably the hardest physical thing to do in the world is resist the urge to push. They told me I had to get out of the tub. The midwife would not make it before the baby would. Someone (bless their soul) called her anyway and she told them she could be there in 10 minutes and to let me stay in the water.
Ten minutes. Is. Forever.
She arrived after what felt like an eternity of panting and puffing to avoid bearing down, and I was still holding out while she got her "goop gear" on. She turned to me and said, "You can push if you feel the urge." I said, "Oh, thank God." And I did. Between contractions, she checked and said, "Oh the head is right there." Maybe two or three inches from the outside world. I had gone from a "conservative 5 cm" to ready to rock in a half hour!
In perhaps 15 minutes (about 5 contractions with 2-3 pushes each), our son J entered the water at 9:50 PM. The umbilical cord was around his neck one time so he was under water longer than typical to get the cord off his head. He came up to the surface, and I grabbed him from the midwife and said, "My baby!" I cuddled him up to me and he opened his eyes to look around. He was beautiful and perfect. He was finally here!
I had originally said my main reason for not getting drug intervention this time (aside from the side effects) was because with my firstborn, the pain meds had worn off and I felt everything anyway. This is not
entirely correct. There were residual effects of the pain medicine then because this time I truly felt
everything. I admit... I am thankful for my very short time in labor. However, I can also say with certainty that the ongoing uterine contractions during the first few days postpartum is worse than the labor and birth. At least in labor you are progressing toward a goal - to have a baby. While having a nice, firm uterus postpartum is important (reduced risk of hemhorrage, getting back to a non-pregnant state faster, reducing the hormone storm, etc.), it isn't quite the momentous achievement of birth.
Because my Week 38 Group B Strep test came back positive, I was supposed to have two doses of IV antibiotics administered over 4 hours to help little J enter the world without risk of infection. Because we were at the hospital for less than 4 hours before he arrived, we obviously didn't make the cut. So we had to stay longer in the hospital than we wanted. But... how amazing a ride! A boy who was determined to stay put for as long as he wanted in utero made a decision and acted on it without a degree of hesitation... when it was time to leave, he left expeditiously!
