I’ve been trying for the past two weeks to get this finished and I think it’s finally done. I figure I should commit the story to writing so that the finer details don’t get blurred over time or lost in the memory banks. Sorry in advance if this is way more detail than you ever cared to know about my birth experience. If so, feel free to skip out on this; I won’t be offended. The way I see it, I’m writing this for my benefit as much as yours. :)
The day of Saturday the 17th started out pretty much the same as any other day in my late pregnancy… except that mid-day I started feeling kinda crampy. Nothing serious — no contractions, just crampy — so I thought nothing of it. We went about our business as usual. The evening heat wasn’t oppressively hot, so we took a waddle around the block and went out to dinner for Indian food.
Mike started playing a video game, and I begrudgingly sat down to watch for a little bit. About 10:30, I got up to put a pillow under my butt because the floor was hard (I had been practicing my Taylor Sitting), and I felt a funny sensation: a kind of popping. “I think my water just broke.” I ran upstairs to the bathroom to check, but there wasn’t a great flood of water like you see in movies or hear from other women, so it surprised me that all I saw was a little bit of blood. So we waited.
Soon thereafter, the contractions began. We called Kim, our doula, to let her know that this could be it. Unfortunately, she was an hour away from town, and would be here as soon as possible. I’m only guessing here, but it was probably around 11pm at this point. I’m going to mention now that any references to time are probably only marginally accurate, considering I wasn’t really thinking about what time it was. I was in my own little world of BREATHE, RELAX, OW… Anyhoo, it took about an hour for my contractions to become painfully strong. While trying to labor in bed, I attempted various different positions that might make me more comfortable, but to no avail. Mike did everything he knew from our classes that might help — bless his soul — but my discomfort was pretty much all-encompassing. Kim called telling us she was close, and when Mike told her how inconsolable I was, she instructed us to draw up the bath. Getting in a warm tub seemed to help only temporarily, as my contractions were soon right on top of each other. With my giant body submerged in the warm water and my sweaty face pressed up against the side of the tub I thought to myself, “This is why most women get epidurals!”
Shortly after Kim arrived, (probably a little after 12) I got the sensation that I should push… It felt like I had to pass the mother of all BMs. Sorry, TMI. Mike hastily packed up the car and we were on our way to the hospital. (approx 1am)
While the drive to the hospital is normally pretty quick, it still felt like the longest drive ever! I had at least 4 contractions on the way. Arriving at the hospital they asked me if I wanted to walk, but there was NO WAY — so they wheeled me in a chair while Mike parked the car. Arriving in triage, they tried to get me gowned up in the bathroom, but the urge to push came on even stronger once I was standing. “I need to push!” I said urgently. They laid me out to check me and confirmed that, indeed, I needed to push. Off to labor and delivery I went — without the stupid gown.
With the urge to push my contractions were much less painful, which was a welcome change from the agony of transition. But it was late and I was tired, so I spent the pushing stage on my side. It took a few contractions for me to really get the hang of effective pushing, but it wasn’t long and Gabriel came shooting out at 3:54. Unfortunately, he blew out my lady parts a bit. Sorry TMI, again! But at that point, he was on my chest and none of that really mattered. Also, he pooped all over me… but I didn’t care. We did it! We had the natural birth we really wanted. All in under 6 hours total!
We soon realized, however that Gabe’s little lungs were still full of fluid… and the deep suction didn’t really help. They told me that it’s fairly common with fast labors because the baby isn’t squeezed in the birth canal long enough. Regardless of the cause, he wasn’t taking in enough oxygen and would have to spend some time in the “special care” unit. Giving him up was the hardest part. Plus, because I was GBS positive and only had one dose of antibiotics in LDR, they wanted to give him extra antibiotics. He didn’t get to room in with us for the first 24 hours, and he was hooked up to IV and under an O2 hood (that we affectionately called “the cone of silence”) for a portion of that time. After a few hours I was allowed to come and breast feed. Luckily, we had no troubles. The little guy latched on like a champ! Once they were confident he was breathing well enough on his own, they let him stay with us for extended periods of time.
The first picture of Gabe that I tweeted from the Hosipital
I’ve gotta say that those first few hours alone in our room were good for catching up on lost sleep, but the distance between us and our baby seemed like a million miles. Plus going to breakfast without his little bassinet in tow was completely depressing. Still, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. And we were able to be released on time: Tuesday the 20th in the late afternoon. So there you have it: Gabe’s birth story in a nutshell.
A precious quiet moment at the hospital.
Today Gabe is three weeks old, and he’s already surpassed his birth weight by 2 pounds. No one ever told us how hard taking care of a newborn really is. It’s definitely not sunshine and lollipops. But there are some glimmers of fun: when he smiles in his sleep, snuggling, watching him check out his surroundings, pretty much whenever he’s not screaming — though these moments are few and far between so far. However, no matter how much he cries or seems inconsolable right now, I’ve gotta remember that this too shall pass and we’ll be on to some other obstacle like shoving buttons up his nose or borrowing the car.
Snuggling with Daddy on the couch
