very best of 2013: Hendrik's birth story

In our little world, most of 2013 was about baby Hendrik - from finding out in early February that we were expecting, to sharing the news with our family & friends in April, to learning in early June that he was a boy, to celebrating his first Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. The arrival itself in October was definitely the biggest event of the year - and one of the biggest of my life - so I thought I'd end my 2013 recaps with Hendrik's birth story. It's looong, but I wanted to capture for myself all of the memories of this most intense, exciting, and rewarding experience (skip to where the photos are for the main bits if you want a shorter version!).

I spent much of my pregnancy being in complete denial that in order to get the baby, I was going to have to actually deliver it - and was a bit bowled over by this fact when we finally did the hospital tour at week 35. Standing in that delivery room, I kind of panicked... we were planning a natural delivery, but I kind of never wanted to have to come back to this room and go through any of it. Before delivery, it's all pretty scary and unknown. We did our best to prepare, but for so many questions I had (how do you know when you're in labor? What does a real contraction feel like? Will I really be able to throw out the inhibitions/modesty in the delivery room like moms say just happens? Will I be brave enough to stick with my no-epidural plan? And how do you know when to push?), it turned out the answer was "you'll know it when it happens." And then it turns out the trick is to trust that you know when you know... and also that women are amazing and we can do this!

I experienced some contractions in the last couple of months of pregnancy, and the baby was clearly dropping lower and lower every day, but of course when he'd actually decide to come on out was another big unknown. It was pretty crazy to be at a point when the baby really could come any day - maybe this would be our last pre-baby dinner date, or my last spinning class, or my last day of work for a while. But somehow you never really expect it to happen.

But it does happen - and quickly, it turned out for me! We arrived at the hospital at almost 5am, and Hendrik was in my arms at 8:46am. Though in retrospect, the labor that I thought started at midnight Monday really started a few days earlier; I just didn't fully comprehend it at the time.

On Saturday (9 days before my due date), I woke up with some spotting and realized that I was probably starting to lose the mucous plug. I tried (not always successfully) to stay calm about it since this doesn't necessarily mean imminent arrival, but our doula encouraged us to get as much rest as possible just in case. I just didn't feel all that well in general, enough to skip the gym and make Peter put the hospital bag in the car when we went off to a picnic with the other residents. Sunday I woke up feeling much better, so I had a pretty normal day, even heading to an hour-long spinning class in the afternoon, and Monday early afternoon I shopped at Target with a friend and had to pause for a couple of mild contractions, but we were still making plans to go to spinning class the next day because I didn't really think it was anything. I ended the evening telling the ladies at book club that it would probably be a bit before I had any news for them since it was still a week to my due date and nothing really seemed to be happening...

And then I woke up at midnight with a contraction so strong that I shot out of bed. I thought, huh, this must be more like what the real thing feels like, but it was just one, so I went back to bed until another one made me jump out again about 25 minutes later.

At that point I had an inkling that I actually was in labor, but I assumed it would be a long time still. That's how things are supposed to go, right? So I let Peter keep sleeping and went downstairs to try out some of the techniques/ideas we had prepared for getting through the early part of labor, since we wanted to stay out of the hospital as long as possible: sitting/leaning on an exercise ball, applying a heat pack to my back, distracting myself with Netflix. But I couldn't do any of it. The pain was manageable but all I could really fathom doing was sitting on the toilet and rocking back and forth when a contraction hit. After a while I started in on a low moan while I rocked through them, and I got out the contraction timer app that I had just downloaded on my phone a couple days before. Somehow I was at a minute long, with only 2-3 minutes in between, which should indicate I was in full-blown labor, but I thought surely I must not be timing these things correctly, since they just started!

After about two hours, things started to feel a bit more intense, so I went upstairs to wake Peter. I was coping pretty well, but when he jumped out of bed I could hardly put together the right thoughts to explain what was going on. From that he gathered that things were pretty far along and called the doula. Usually they wait a couple of hours to come while you wait through the early hours of labor, but she also thought I was probably going to need to head to the hospital soon, so she came right over.

When she arrived, she found me back to sitting on the toilet (inhibitions gone already!), and I told her that I couldn't believe it was actually time since the contractions had only been going a couple of hours. Finally she convinced me that this was the real deal - real enough that it was time to head to the hospital - and so we left the house around 4am. On the way, while I continued to moan/rock in the background, Peter called my OB's office and I managed a little cheer when we learned that my favorite doctor was the one on call. We had to drop Ginger off at the doggie daycare on the way, and while I was waiting for Peter to come back to the car I finally hit the point where I freaked a little - we needed to get to the hospital now.

As we walked into the hospital I started shaking and shivering - transition time. Luckily Peter could use his work badge to get us through the locked doors quickly, but then checking in at the front desk was a bit of a chore because I had to frequently pause from answering questions (the woman asks, "and why are you here?" Um, hello!) and signing paperwork to breathe through another contraction. But before long we got checked into triage, and I was at 7cm already (!). What a relief - I had told Peter in the car that if I was only at 3 or 4 I didn't know if I would last. So they called my doctor, who was rather surprised that things had moved that quickly, and she came right in and stayed with us until the end.

We got into a delivery room around 5am or so, and I found the most comfortable position I could for breathing through contractions - standing next to the bed, leaning over an exercise ball, with the doula applying counterpressure to my back. She asked a couple of times if I wanted any of the things I had thought I might during labor - music, or laboring in the shower for a while - but I was so focused on just rocking/breathing through contractions that I didn't want to do anything else. Peter was very attentive with the ice chips and chapstick, but I could hardly acknowledge him because I was so in the zone. And that's how I started to understand how people are able to deliver babies with no epidural - you just do it, just keep breathing through those contractions one at a time, just push until it's done.

After a while little bit I announced that I felt "pushy" - you really do just know when it feels like it's time. I was fully dilated already, but there was a little lip left on the cervix, so they had me lay on my side for a bit to get things all the way opened up and ready to go, and the doula kept applying helpful pressure where my back was hurting a lot. I had to suppress the urge to push though a few contractions, but then when they gave me the go-ahead on the cervix, baby was in just the right position, so off we went!

And then I understood why some women would call pushing their "favorite" part of delivery (there's a favorite part?!). It really was such a relief to be working with the contractions. My doctor stayed by my side coaching the whole time, and our doula and delivery nurse were extremely supportive and encouraging, and Peter was right at my shoulder (though made the mistake of offering his hand to squeeze through pushing only once - apparently I almost broke it). So I just stayed in the zone and kept doing what my body wanted me to do. It was hard work for sure, but not all that painful, and infinitely more bearable than just contractions.

Eventually I started to wear out a bit mentally and physically though. Everyone said I was doing a great job, but I do remember wanting to quit, even if I didn't say it aloud. Beforehand I thought that the promise of soon getting to meet the baby (and my doula kept encouragingly reminding me of this) would get me through, but really it was more the stern self-coaching I gave myself that in order for this to end, I was just going to have to push as many times as they told me I needed to. So I did.

All the running I've done prepared me well for the mental aspect of getting through something like this - I know that nothing, hard as it feels, lasts forever. Everything has an end, I kept reminding myself. At one point though I did announce to the room that I really wished they would give me a specific number for how many more times I had to push (which amused them). Because at least with a long race you know when there's just one mile left, but this was feeling like a lot of work with no tangible results whatsoever.

Finally I pushed enough that they could start seeing the head and the hair and was asked several times if I wanted to see/feel - NO. For one thing, yuck, for another thing, I just needed to stay in my work zone and not be distracted if I was going to keep going. In fact, most of the time I kept my eyes tightly shut through the pushes, pretty much blocking out everyone and everything but the breathing instructions, coming up for air and occasional chats with the room when each contraction finished. They monitored baby throughout, and he was always looking great (and even kicking me sometimes during contractions, youch!), which was always good to hear.

Everyone got so excited as the end got closer and told me I was doing such a good job that I kept powering through even though it did really start to hurt as that head started to crown. I thought I had been working hard, but when they told me it would be less than 10 pushes left, I started pushing even harder than I could have imagined - my only goal in life was to get to that finish line as soon as possible. And I really did let those inhibitions go with several roars, which I think slightly disturbed Peter - he said it was hard to see me in pain, but again, I was so focused on getting through each set of pushes that I hardly noticed what he was doing. (Though I appreciated knowing he was by my side!)

 

Then finally, after almost 2 hours of pushing, I was told just one more to go - at which point I had the longest ever break between contractions (seriously? Could have used that earlier). I started to panic a little as I waited for the next one to kick in, but then it was time and I roared/pushed with everything I had left in me, and suddenly realized my voice wasn't the only one yelling in the room anymore. I wondered why it still hurt like crazy though and opened my eyes just in time to see the rest of his little body arrive... I had kind of assumed I was done when I heard the baby cry, but I guess he just started in the second his mouth hit the air. (And kept at it for at least the first 15 minutes of his life.)

My doctor placed him on my chest, and all I could think and say over and over was "my baby! Oh, my baby!" Finally! And, I DID IT!

And then I understood the final thing that everyone talks about but you just can't entirely understand until it happens - that instant, overwhelming feeling that this is my child, and though all I know about him so far is that he's slimy and red and screaming, I love him so completely and entirely and always will.

Peter cut the cord and I had to get stitched up for a minor tear, but mostly I don't remember much of anything else going on at the foot of the bed since we were so absorbed with the baby on my chest.

The nurse wiped him up a bit and gave him a hat right away, and he was allowed to stay on my chest for a good hour before official cleanup/weighing while we cried and gazed on him and exclaimed over how he was finally here. He also nursed for the first time, finding his own way there, which is kind of an amazing thing babies just know how to do; he followed that with his first dirty diaper, except that he'd never been diapered yet... which meant my hospital bracelets were a bit brown-tinged the rest of the stay. Welcome to parenthood!

The backstory*:
For quite a while I refused to talk about anything related to delivery if Peter would bring it up - a coping mechanism for the many things about labor & delivery that can make a first-time mom apprehensive (or terrified). Watching The Business of Being Born had convinced Peter of the merits of having as natural a birth process as possible and that hiring a doula would be a great way to go, and he encouraged me to watch it and start thinking this through for myself.

Eventually, around 28 weeks, when I forced myself to actually think about birth plans and allowed Peter to discuss it, I got on board. We found a doula team we really liked, talked through a birth plan, and did some childbirth classes to learn alternative comfort measures like massage and different labor positions. But in all of these weeks, we were never quite sure that I was going to be able to have the "normal" delivery we were preparing for, given that I had a complete placenta previa at 20 weeks, partial previa at 32 weeks when they checked it again, and still a low-lying enough placenta at 36 weeks that half of the doctors in my practice preferred that I go directly to the c-section option because of a higher risk of heavy bleeding during delivery based on placenta positioning.

So I entered the last month of pregnancy feeling confident that I wanted a natural birth process, feeling semi-confident that I could go through with it given the pain I was anticipating, but feeling lots of uncertainty about whether I'd actually be allowed by my body and my doctors to follow through on those plans. Luckily my favorite doctor was on call when I went into labor, and she was really calm about the whole thing - and the placenta position turned out not to be an issue in delivery at all anyway. In fact, our very experienced delivery nurse told us that this was about as textbook as a delivery can go, and for that we were/are extremely grateful.

*disclaimer: while this is the process of how we decided to do a natural delivery, I believe all women should decide what's right for their own delivery. Though I started pregnancy with the declaration that I'd be getting an epidural as soon as possible, I came to believe in allowing my body to dictate the delivery process as it was designed to do, and I'm happy with that choice for myself. People choose other routes for a variety of reasons (and I would have been open to interventions if they had become the right/safe choice for me and my child during delivery), but my original choices would have been based solely on fear, whereas I now think our views of labor & delivery should much more emphasize strength. Watching The Business of Being Born and reading lots of birth stories, especially my blog friend MJ's and the stories of the start series on Freshly Picked, really inspired me and convinced me of women's amazing strength and the amazing things our bodies are made to do. And I'm so glad I believed in it - because while it was the hardest thing I've ever done, it was completely worth it (and truly wasn't that painful).