The Birth of Baby Abigail
Abigail’s birth story starts a few days before she came into
this world. On Wednesday of that week, my oldest came down with a gastro bug of
some type. Obviously that’s not the situation a pregnant woman past her due
date wants to deal with – how do you stop it from going through the entire
house? It seemed to be a brief illness and she was feeling better the next day.
My appointment that week was on Thursday and we decided if
baby hadn’t arrived by Monday of the next week, I would come in for a
non-stress test. I was totally ok with that – I would have been past 41w at
that point and typically delivered within that range. My first two births were
inductions (40w5d, 41w) and my third was scheduled for induction at 41w2d but
decided to beat her induction by a few hours and come on her own. At my 39w
appointment, my doctor had referred to me as “The 41 Weeker” and I wear that
badge with honor! She said we could talk about an induction the following week,
when I’d be past 42w, if needed. As someone who has faced an induction multiple
times, being given so much time and space was amazingly comforting. I felt
certain that 1. I wouldn’t need an induction that far away and 2. If I DID make
it past 42w, I wouldn’t care that I was being induced! Did I mention
Thanksgiving was right in the mix of all these dates? There was zero pressure
to beat the holiday or avoid a birth on Turkey Day.
As I left the appointment, I asked what her schedule looked
like that weekend and who was on call. She reassured me she would be around,
except for a football playoff game for her son’s team on Saturday. An out of
town football playoff game. I commented that I had a friend who had been at
Disney World the week before my third was born, returning home 2 days before
the birth. The same friend was back at Disney World THIS week, scheduled to
arrive home the following day (Friday). I can’t really explain why I was
fixated on that weekend, but I wanted to know exactly what kind of timing I was
working with.
I went to the grocery store that Thursday. I had all sorts of
terrible junk food cravings during this pregnancy and resisted them all until
the very end. I finally caved and bought some cereal (Cap’n Crunch, Shredded
Wheat) and it had been so delicious. During this store trip, I bought more –
Grape Nuts and some Kashi Honey Nut. After dinner that night, I ate two bowls
of those two combined. Looking back to my third labor, I kind of carb loaded
the night I went into labor – I ate a burger, fries and a sugar cookie. I just
don’t eat much dessert or processed carbs on a regular basis but sometimes you
just have to eat what sounds good during pregnancy!
On Friday morning, my husband started exhibiting symptoms
that he had fallen to the tummy bug. It was a long day of taking care of 3 kids
and checking on him to try to give him anything to stay hydrated. He finally
gave up trying to get any work done and spent the rest of the day dozing in his
recliner. And around dinner, I felt a contraction for the first time.
I had had lots of cramping and Braxton Hicks over the last
few weeks but nothing combined together and nothing I would even consider
needing to time. So when the first contraction happened, I knew exactly what it
was. I tried to mentally will it away. Go away. Come back on Monday. Or
Tuesday. Or even Thanksgiving. Just not today. I banged out an all-caps message
to my friend in Canada, that I was having contractions and my husband was out
of commission with a tummy bug! I knew there wasn’t anything she could do but I
had to vent to someone who could calm me down and tell me it would be ok. I got
the kids ready for bed a little early and we watched the Heat episode of Fat
Salt Acid Heat. I downloaded a contraction timer and had a few contractions,
but they were spaced very widely apart (about 15-17 minutes). I ate a big bowl of cereal. I wasn’t really
hungry but I just thought it sounded like a good idea.
I took a shower since I hadn’t had one that day and after I
undressed, I caught my belly in the mirror. It was SO incredibly low…I don’t
know if I’ve ever seen it like that. I continued to have contractions, even in
the shower. I got the kids in bed and laid down. I turned my phone on airplane
mode and put it on the nightstand. And the contractions kept coming. I
grudgingly would grab my phone and add them to the timer app. They were about
13-14 minutes apart, lasting 45-60 seconds. After a few of those, I feared this
gig was NOT going to evaporate, so I went to tell my husband I was having
contractions. That was about 1 a.m. I decided to time a few more to see if
moving around or getting up would have any effect. After 30 minutes of them
coming 9-10 minutes apart, we decided I should call my parents.
While I had been in bed still, my mind was racing with
“What’s the plan??” The plan HAD been to have my parents come over to watch my
kids should there be a middle of the night situation, and my husband and I
would head to the hospital. However, my husband could barely even get out of
the recliner…he was in no condition to even get in a car, much less drive me to
the hospital and support through labor (not to mention he didn’t want to spread
germs!)
We decided both my parents would drive me up to the hospital
while my husband went to sleep. He could handle (sort of) any kid wakeups but
we hoped everyone would just stay asleep. I called my mom at 1:30. She and my
dad arrived about 10 minutes later and I gave them the update on what all was
going on. We arrived to the hospital around 2 a.m.
The l&d nurse who came to escort me upstairs asked my
pain medication preferences and when I said I did not want an epidural, she
said, “Would you like to go to one of our…” I finished the sentence: “Low
Intervention Rooms? Yes, please!” Then she told me I had the right nurse – she
was a “crunchy” nurse. She hooked me up to contraction and heartbeat monitors
to get a baseline reading. She checked my progress and I was at about
4.5-5cm…not nearly as far as the 7 cm I had been with my third. However, I knew
it didn’t FEEL like I had gone as far as 7, based on the fact I could still
walk fairly normally. I hadn’t done progress checks in the OB’s office so I don’t
know exactly when everything started moving.
She said she would come back and check me in 2 hours and
then they would decide where to go from there. I was unhooked from the monitors
and allowed to roam freely. I wasn’t even officially admitted as an l&d
patient then and didn’t have any blood drawn or saline lock placed yet. When
she came back to check, I had not dilated any further. This was really a
disappointment. I had been laboring with contractions 7-8 minutes apart,
lasting about a minute, for 2 hours and only had some softening to show for it.
She said she would call my doctor to see what she wanted to do.
THANKFULLY, my doctor said I could stay, and that she was
going to put her scrubs on and get back in bed. The nurse felt like if we could
get the baby’s head into position, it wouldn’t take any time at all for things
to move along nicely. I tried the peanut ball in the bed. I walked the halls. I
sat on the exercise ball. I went to the bathroom. My contractions were longer
and farther apart on the bed with the peanut ball and closer together/shorter
when walking. Pick your poison, eh? I made it my job to do whatever it took to
get “uncomfy” and open and get that baby putting pressure in the right spot.
I’m sure I looked a funny creature – pretty floral labor gown, standard issue
hospital gown worn as a robe, my Fuzzy Green Birthin’ Socks (there for all 4
births) and a big white blanket over my shoulders because the halls were cold!
The night nurse checked me again around 6:30 and I had
finally made progress! Only to 6-7ish, though…sloooow going for me. Even with
my inductions, once I hit about 5 or 6 cm, it was only a few hours until birth.
And my third took under 2.5h to get from 7 cm to in my arms! So having been at
the hospital for over 4 hours, plus a few hours at home was kind of
frustrating. I had to put out of my mind the fact my husband wasn’t there. I
just couldn’t even let myself think about it…I told myself the baby was going
to come no matter who was in the room. Looking back, and processing details
with my sister later, I think when I closed off my mind to not think about my husband
being there, I shut off all communication to my support team. Moral of the
story: prepare a backup birthing team with instructions and prompts so you don’t
have to tell them what you need when you can’t talk. My husband knew what kinds
of things to tell me and how to put pressure on me for relief, even as brief as
my other unmedicated labor was. My mom and sister were absolutely ready and
willing but I could not voice what I needed in the moment. The first week post-partum definitely involved a lot of teary processing at the realization I had gone through my longest (hardest?) labor with just me inside my own head.
The day nurse came on duty and she had given birth in the
same room, so she was a great support person as well. My dad headed back to my
house to be on the couch when my kids woke up, and my sister came up to help my
mom support me. Things started to get kind of fuzzy on the times at this point.
Did I mention there wasn’t a clock in the room? There was a nail for one and a
sticky note that said “Clock” so I joked that it was SO low intervention that
they didn’t even want you to focus on the time. The day nurse finally went and
stole a clock from another room for the last hour and a half or so of my labor.
One feature of the LI room is a tub for laboring. I dreamed
of being to get into warm water once regular contractions were hard to deal
with. However, I never felt like I got to that point…I felt like I never got a
rhythm where they got closer (3-5 min) and longer. I didn’t want to do anything
to stall or slow things down, so I kept up the rotation of bed/hall/ball. I had
also planned to use the tub when it would have just been my husband with me. I
would have worn only a sports bra. It’s one thing to give birth with a
different audience than you planned, but I felt it was another entirely to walk
around a room with only a bra and a giant belly. I sat on the ball for probably
about 30-45 minutes around this time and the nurse came to the room for Doppler
(no belly monitors in this room – just handheld monitoring every 30 minutes)
and said she was going to sit there and wait for a contraction to get the fetal
tones during it. I told her “here you go!” and she didn’t have to wait long for
it! She told me my doctor said she had to leave town at 11:30, at which point
my care would be transferred to the hospitalist until late afternoon when she
would be back. Did I mention I’ve always been a deadline worker?
After another round of the hall and a potty break, I just
wanted to lay down. I didn’t want the peanut ball…I just wanted to lay on my
side like I did to go to sleep every night. This was probably sometime around 8
a.m., I think. I had already pulled out the iPod with the same Enya album that
got me through my 3rd labor and it is just a great mental escape for
me. I was able to get really dozy between contractions and start humming and
moaning through them. The nurse checked and I was finally at 8 cm! Thanks to my
sister sending text updates to my husband (who was still asleep in bed, ha!), I
know that this was around 9:15-9:20. (So it took almost 3 hours for me to go
from 6-7ish to 8 cm. And a total of 7 hours to get to 8 from 4.5-5!! Even with
my first induction, I went from 4cm - baby in only a few hours.) She told me a
little later my doctor was on the way. I didn’t have a good grasp of time at
this point so I was surprised that she had even called my doctor already!
That’s the point where I almost broke down. I had tried so hard to be tough
mentally, dealing with labor that was NOT what I had planned, as kind and
willing as my support was. Knowing my doctor was on the way was a relief
because that meant I was close AND it meant someone who had been there at all
my other births was on the way.
I was sitting up at one point during this time and the nurse
applied counter pressure to my lower back and it was such an incredible help to
me! My mom jumped to the task and asked how and where she could help with any
massage or pressure. I laid back down and she applied pressure to my back, and
then I asked for my hips to be pressed instead.
The door opened and a head popped in, then disappeared. I
thought it was someone who had entered the wrong room, but a few minutes later
my mom said my doctor was on the premises! Remember, timing was REALLY fuzzy by
this point and I thought it had just been a few minutes since my doctor had been
summoned. Finally she was in the room!! She showed off a photo of her son who
had been duck hunting that morning and if that doesn’t sum up my doctor, I don’t
know what does! She loves her boys and is so proud of them. I love that she
shares her life with her patients just like they share a pretty big day in
their lives with her!
She checked my progress and said I was sooooo close, just a
small lip remained. She said she could break my water and that would probably
do the trick. I had thought my water had broken slightly when I was on the ball
still, but there wasn’t a big gush ever. There was some communication and
observation about whether or not my water was still intact, had it been a
forebag, where’s a hook (nothing was in the proper location in this new style
of laboring room, which made for a bit of chaos once it was time to get
everything set up and my doctor in her gear. Where are the shoe covers? Why is
there a fridge here instead of supplies? I need size small gloves!) When my
doctor was checking my progress EVERYTHING HURT and I really didn’t want to be
touched anymore.
The bed in the low intervention rooms is a full/queen(?)
regular soft bed. It may be a little TOO soft, though, because I was up at the
top and of course there’s a lot of bed between me and the foot. My doctor asked
me to scoot down and there’s just no way to express that such an event could
not happen on this planet or any other. I could not even raise my hand at this
point. There was just so much pressure and I was trying to breathe and not
fight the sensations, but to stay open and relaxed. So my doctor just hopped up
on the bed on her knees which is not the easiest thing to do when you’re
covered in baby-catchin’ gear, onto a soft bed. However, I greatly appreciated
the accommodation!
My doctor did break whatever was remaining of my water.
There wasn’t a huge gush but it still opened the flood gate - that first
sensation of BABY HEAD. In my head it was like a lead salami shaped freight
train. I’m sorry if that’s random or odd but that’s what it felt like. I was
powerless to stop the sensation…it’s conflicting when you don’t want to feel it
any more but you also know it’s what has to happen. Then there was a break with
nothing. It felt like a long gap but I’m sure it was only maybe 20 seconds. It
was like the space of time when a home run soars out of the park, when a figure
skater flies, when a glass is briefly suspended before crashing on the floor.
Nothing. Happened. Nothing. Hurt. Then another, more powerful shift of the baby
freight train that lasted longer than the first move, and a really short Gap of
Nothing. My sister whispered “You’re almost there!” Thennnnn the final really
long really ouchy “make it stop just hold on for the ride” descent ending in a
baby head popping out, a glistening baby body flying out right after it and
plopping onto the bed. I know my OB is a top notch, skilled baby catcher, but I
have to say I was relieved there was soft bed under baby, not open space.
It’s a girl!!! We had waited to find out what we were
having. I just realized I don’t know who told my husband what we had just had.
Someone texted him to let him know! We definitely weren’t able to communicate
with friends and family as much as other births because my husband wasn’t there
and I tried to text his family at 8:30 (I’m amazed my brain could function that
well by then) but later I realized the text hadn’t sent. I didn’t ever want
someone in our immediate family to find out the news on Facebook so I apologize
if our normal contact list was overlooked!
Every pregnancy is different and every birth is different. I
did not do any pushing to get Abigail out. My body and her body pushed her out
without effort from me. In a way it was a relief. Obviously there is a hormone
surge and can help even the most fatigued mother endure birth but it had been a
really long night/morning. During the last weeks I would think to myself “Take
a nap today, because if you went into labor this tired, you’d struggle.” I
really tried to care for my health and energy level with exertion and diet, but
hey, I’m also a mommy so things are busy all the time. I know that age is just
a number but I feel like I performed at least as well as with my first, almost
10 years earlier. And my recovery after unmedicated birth has been so much
easier than inductions with epidurals. I will not lie. At one point on the
ball, when I hadn’t made much progress despite hours of work, I thought, “You
can give in. You can get something that will make you feel warm and comfy and
take all this pain away.” But the other part of my brain said “Hang in there
for the easy recovery, it’s just a matter of outlasting the clock.” It’s good
to do hard things. It’s good to push yourself. I’m glad I run because running
is great training for birth. I ran a 5 miler at 7 weeks and had a toenail
stabbing another toe for the last mile. What can you do, though, but finish the
race? I also ran a 10k at 10 weeks and although it sounds crazy, I felt BETTER
on days when I ran and was not so queasy. So if you are planning a pregnancy
and birth, I highly recommend running for physical and mental strength.
I am so thankful for the relationship I developed with my OB
over 10 years and 4 pregnancies. I cannot imagine better care – I felt observed
and considered but not scrutinized; I was never scared with worst case
projections. My 20 week ultrasound had showed placenta previa with an anterior
placenta – potentially the trickiest
kind of case. My doctor didn’t brush it off but also didn’t say or do anything
that would make me really anxious about it. (Not like a pregnant lady needs
help on that front, right??) And at 28 weeks, it had cleared, thankfully.
I feel like I’m forgetting some details or things I wanted
to note but I can always add them later. I wanted to get down the bulk of this
story before it started fading away. I just feel so blessed to have these
little people who call me Mommy-Can-I-Have-A-Snack and each of their entrances
was so unique and a part of who they are. Thanks for reading!
