Warning! This is not for the easily grossed out! And it's long. You have been warned.
July 13, 2013, 8:35 am; 8 lbs 12 oz; 20 inches; 39 weeks 5
days gestation
For weeks and weeks I had had false labor, or pre-labor, or practice
labor, as some like to call it. I had contractions that were very regular that
would last for hours on end, but never progress. Sometimes they would be strong
enough that I had to breathe through them, but never strong enough to stick
around and result in the real thing. It was frustrating, but I did my best to
focus on the positive: They helped me learn different laboring positions and
relaxation techniques, it helped me ripen and dilate, and it was a good
reminder to keep up my prenatal exercises.
Friday night was one of those nights. For 5 hours I had
contractions that were every 5 minutes, pretty hard, but never getting any
stronger. Gavin went to bed but I couldn’t sleep yet. I paced the kitchen floor
and wrote in my journal. At 2:00, I wrote Gavin this message:
2am and the contractions
are still going strong. I thought they'd ease up after laying in bed for awhile
but they didn't. I'll try to go to bed again soon. Maybe this time I'll be able
to sleep. Or my water will break or something. Ha. I love you!
At 2:30 I climbed into bed and after a few short minutes,
the contractions subsided and I fell asleep.
An hour later, I was still somewhere between drifting off
and dreaming, when I felt a tiny *pop*, as though a small air bubble escaped
down south. My eyes jumped open, and I wondered whether that might have been my
membranes rupturing. Then, a small gush of fluid spurted out and I knew. It was
finally time! I reached out and touched Gavin’s arm and said his name. He
jumped, and I then I told him my water had just broken. He shot out of bed so
fast it was funny. He came around the bed to help me up, but as soon as he
pulled on my arm to help me sit up, a huge gush of water flowed out of me and
ran down the side of the bed. (Luckily, I had just put a waterproof sheet under
my side of the sheets that very night!) We laughed in disbelief and excitement
as we struggled to get me out of bed and straight to the bath tub where I could…
drain. I seriously made a small river on the way. It was insane. Once I was
standing in the tub, water continued to gush out with every contraction. Gavin
rushed around packing the last-minute stuff for us as well as Zoey and I did my
best to mop myself up. We made our way downstairs and called the midwife, the
contractions becoming a bit more intense. We were thrilled to find that the
best midwife in the clinic was on call that night, and called her up right
away. Claudia told me that I didn’t need to rush too much, but to get to the
hospital soon. At 4:00 we called my aunt, who lives nearby and who had
previously agreed to help us out, and she came over to stay with Zoey. Then we
gathered up our stuff and took off.
We arrived at the hospital at 5am and checked in. I was
dilated to a 4 and completely effaced. Claudia was working with someone else,
so we were on our own for about an hour and a half. Just as we had practiced, I
stayed on my feet for as long as possible. I alternated between walking,
swaying, leaning on things and resting. We got a birthing ball (a glorified
exercise ball) and I sat on it for awhile too. By the time Claudia was ready
for us I was dilated to a 6+ and the contractions were coming on stronger all
the time. She showed Gavin how to better apply counter pressure to the back of
my hips and it was a big relief. (He had been doing a great job; things were
just becoming more intense and I needed more pressure.) She gave me the
go-ahead to get in the tub to relax awhile and I was grateful. It was immediate
relief for a bit, and I was able to handle the contractions all on my own.
After about a half an hour though, I started feeling them stronger and
stronger, and become very nauseated. I decided I needed to get out, and finally
threw up in my attempt. Claudia took one look at my face and told me I was
starting transition. (Transition! Aaah!)
Slowly, I made my way over to the bed as the pain became
about as much as I could take. I was scared I couldn’t do it, but kept telling
myself that I could. Gavin and Claudia echoed my optimistic thoughts and kept
the encouragement coming. Once on the bed, I felt a little better between
contractions, but that didn’t last long. I was now at an 8+ and things were moving
fast. Claudia said the baby’s head was turned sideways and had me lay on my
left side through 4 or 5 contractions to get him to turn. The pain was like
fire. I almost couldn’t stand it. I began sweating and having a hard time
staying calm. Once he was turned, I resumed a semi-sitting position and the
real work started. I had one foot plated on Gavin’s shoulder and one on Claudia’s.
I was almost totally dilated now, and Claudia said I could push whenever I felt
the urge. Not knowing what “the urge” would feel like, I continued through each
contraction, doing my best to keep my breath under control. I began vocalizing
at the end of each contraction and noticed that my body was tensing
uncontrollably. After a couple of those, I realized that that was the “pushy” feeling I was supposed to look for, and I went
with it. The next few contractions I worked with it and allowed by body to do
exactly what it wanted to do. The pain was incredible as I felt the baby moving
downward. Suddenly, “He’s got a lot of hair!” Oh my gosh—I was crowning
already! This motivated me like nothing else and although tears poured down my
cheeks, a new determination gave me strength I didn’t know I had. “I can see
eyebrows!” And then Claudia instructed me to give small pushes, back to back
and just like that, his head came out! His broad shoulders got stuck then, but
two more pushes, and he slid right out. Gavin caught him in his gloved hands,
just like we wanted. The relief was immediate and incredibly welcome. I did it!
We did it! I sobbed tears of happiness and relief. My brand new baby boy was
placed right onto my chest. He was dark purple and not yet breathing but I wasn’t
worried. He was so big! Another couple contractions and the placenta came out.
(The nurses all remarked on how big it was.) We rubbed him down with a blanket
and out came the tiniest squeak of protest, and he was breathing and crying
softly. His color came almost immediately.
When they weighed him I was shocked to hear how big he was—2
full pounds heavier than Zoey was! I hungrily searched every feature I could
see, and I was thrilled to see how much he looked like Gavin. (A slimy, swollen
version, but Gavin nonetheless.)
I was examined as they did the Apgar tests on baby Calvin
and found to have no tears at all! I lost a lot of blood and water, but not too
much. (When I went home I weighed 15 lbs less than when I had arrived at the
hospital!) We gave him the middle name Yoshi, after my grandmother's brother. I love my baby boy. He is perfect in every way, and I am so pleased
to have experienced the full labor and delivery experience. It was the most
painful and most wonderful experience I have ever had, all wrapped up in one. We
are healthy and learning a lot as we start our new life together as a family of
4.