More than a year later, I'm ready to share my birth story on the World Wide Web. Its long (as in a 10 page Word document), there's some adult language, its emotional, its me in what might be one of the most raw and vulnerable accounts of my life.
For years I had dreamt of a midwife-assisted birth in the comforts and familiarity of my own home. I envisioned candles everywhere, dim lighting, soft music, good food that I'd prepared ahead of time, fine drinks, a birthing tub in the guest room, both beds in the house lined with plastic in case I wanted to deliver there (but knowing I wouldn't desire to deliver while flat on my back - that's so old fashioned and counterproductive!). I would be somewhat ready with diapers, blankets, and a few outfits cleaned and folded, set up in the baby's room and ready to be used. I'd have a girlfriend or two at the house for extra support, but would rely mostly on Blinn for my coaching.
Fast forward to fall of 2009: hypnobirthing. I became a big fan in no time and fully intended to practice hypnobirthing throughout the labor. I started a long list of words and phrases that were affirming, encouraging, and strengthening that I would post around the house and the birthing room to cheer me on in the extra hard moments. I decided that once I knew that labor was really happening, I'd start the process of making a birth day cake and frosting - all from scratch. I got the idea from Mothering Magazine and loved the thought of having a lengthy activity to focus on throughout the hours it would take before my body transitioned into hard, active labor. I hoped to have some photos taken of Blinn and me throughout the day and especially as our baby burst forth into the world. I secretly hoped for a water birth, having been a promoter of that for years longer than I even knew about home birth, but I wasn't expecting anything specific of my body. Whatever position felt best, whatever location felt best, I'd roll with it.
Wait. Let's rewind. I just said “I wasn't expecting anything specific of my body”, right? Turns out that wasn't actually the truth. I was completely expecting, 100% believing that my body would go into labor naturally when Baby Blinn decided to be born. I expected to find ways to enjoy the highs and lows of labor and delivery as the baby and I called the shots on everything. Well. I didn't get what I expected from my birthing experience, but honestly, what I did get was the next best thing.
The birth story of Zachari Jane actually starts around 8 a.m. on Monday, February 1, 2010, the day before her birth. I had a routine monthly appointment scheduled with Dr. Perni, the maternal-fetal medicine specialist we'd been seeing (and loved!). The long and short of it: he didn't like what he was seeing from the ultrasound and was concerned about a few things. 1) The baby's size - a little on the small size for 36 weeks gestation, and hadn't appeared to gain weight from the week before. 2) The blood flow to the placenta wasn't great and was likely the culprit in a small-sized baby. 3) Low amniotic fluid that had significantly decreased since the ultrasound the week prior. Shit. The first two concerns he voiced were somewhat alarming and made my heart skip a few beats, but the low fluid downright caused me to panic. All of those very issues likely led to the loss of Elpida... whatthefuck? It was happening again? There was a lot racing through my mind, but I tried to stay calm and I carried on with our conversation.
Long story a little shorter. Dr. Perni said "So, I'm gonna go ahead and get someone to take you upstairs then." With big eyes and a heart that was pounding I said "Upstairs? As in today?" Doctor: "Yeah, you need to have this baby today." WHAT??? He explained that it was ultimately our choice to be induced or not. He advised that the time had come where life on the outside of the womb was safer for the baby than life on the inside. What? How can that be? I thought the womb was the safest place on earth? What, is there something wrong with me that I'm not able to carry this baby inside of me til he or she is ready to come out? This is ludicrous! I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I asked for a private room where Blinn and I could talk things over. We got to the room, shut the door and the tears fell. We hugged, held hands, I freaked out. Blinn was calm and positive and reassured me that everything would be alright. He told me that these circumstances for induction were completely different than our experience with induction the first time around and he reminded me that in the end, we'd have a living, breathing baby. I couldn't help but have Elpida flashbacks. All I knew of induction was dark, cold, painful, long and lifeless. What did I do wrong? How could this be happening again? Was it all a dream? I wasn't ready. Amazing how quickly my mind went to the worst-case scenario and death. I guess no one could blame me, given my track record.
Sometime after 10:00 a.m. we were escorted to the seventh floor Labor and Delivery area after talking everything out with Dr. Perni once more. Once on the floor, things moved relatively quickly and the staff was kind and accommodating. There was the usual waiting associated with hospitals, but eventually we met Kathy, our wonderful day nurse. She got me registered and settled into the room that would be our "home" for the next several hours. I gowned up, met the fabulous resident, Kash (who I want to be friends with!) and together with her and the nurse, Blinn and I went through lots of Q and A and mapped out our ideal birth plan. We were pleasantly surprised by how amiable they were with our requests and how supportive they were of our decisions of what to do or not do. Skin to skin contact immediately after birth, leave baby attached to the placenta until it stopped pulsing, no circumcision, no eye drops, no pku shot, all examinations done while in my arms and not until at least an hour after birth, and the list went on. As long as Baby Blinn came out healthy and strong and there weren't complications up to delivery, they were pretty okay with everything. Whew!
I made it very clear that I wanted to avoid Pitocin for as long as possible, believing that my body would take over with enough coaxing from other elements. The doctor was agreeable to my suggestions so our induction plan went as follows: 1) Cervidil; 2) Inflation of Foley Catheter; and 3) Pitocin drip if the first two steps didn’t work. Blinn and I were more than okay with this plan and though we knew it would likely mean a longer process, we knew it was for the best of the baby and me.
I began to make phone calls, Mandy was first on the list. I told her it was birth day and while excited, I knew she was concerned. She scrambled to get some business taken care of in Columbus and then rushed to be by my side as soon as she could. Excellent.
Blinn and I had some down time after we’d come up with a plan so we ate a tasty lunch together and enjoyed what would be one of our last meals together before a baby joined us. At 1:30 p.m. Cervidil began. – not a pleasant time, but I’d experienced worse. It was to stay in for 12 hours so we had lots of waiting in store for us. We decided it’d be good for Blinn to go home and gather some things (clothes, pillows, camera, snacks, etc.). We knew Mandy was on her way and I could use the alone time. When Blinn got back a few hours later I had rested my eyes a bit and was feeling great. Mandy had arrived maybe half an hour before him and of course she was a sight for sore eyes. My boy got everything from home that I’d requested… and then some. He asked Mandy to leave the room and with a shaky voice and tears in his eyes he expressed how sad he was that my mom wasn’t there to share in the experience with me. He pulled out a picture of Mom and I that had been displayed in our living room. He wanted her to be there with us throughout the process and thought I’d like to see her… it was just right. He’s fantastic. We cried a good, deep cry together and I felt so connected with my love in those moments. I didn’t need anything to reaffirm that he was phenomenal or that we could do this birth thing together, but those moments of intimacy solidified things even more.
I was pretty insistent on eating what I wanted when I wanted and didn’t have to fight very hard with the staff on that, thankfully. The cafeteria’s lasagna was divine and I had it twice throughout the course of labor! I enjoyed grilled chicken sandwiches (with pickles, mustard, and tomato on a lightly toasted bun – mm mm!), super delicious salads (mixed greens, spinach, peas, croutons, bacon, cherry tomatoes, chick peas, cheese), crackers, water, juice… I ate like a beast! The food helped refuel me, strengthen me, even gave me a temporary break from the task at hand.
Throughout the evening Blinn, Mandy and I chatted, laughed, sat in silence and enjoyed ourselves. Really, the Cervidil was a breeze with aches similar to period cramps. Deep down I wondered if a lack of pain meant it wasn’t working, but I didn’t let it bother me. This option was safe and allowed baby and I to get to the birth at our own pace. Only “our own pace” didn’t actually kick in til several hours later.
I think it was 10 or 11 p.m. when we decided to send Mandy to our house to get some sleep. I still had a few hours to go on Cervidil and after that, the catheter would go in. We had time to spare. She was hesitant to leave, but Blinn told her that he’d call at the first sign that it was time for her to come back. I was happy to see her go knowing that she could get a good night’s rest in our bed and return the next day fresh to help us walk through the rest of labor and delivery.
I can’t remember if we slept (I think Blinn got some sleep on the pullout – boy can snooze anywhere!) or what we did in those wee night hours. I don’t remember who took out the Cervidil but it was promptly at 1:30 a.m. No change down there. Oh well. A little disappointing, but not shocking.
A while later, like an hour or two maybe, the catheter went in and again, not fun! Yowza! Men just have no friggin clue! You’d think I could remember the person who rammed their arm up my who-ha (no exaggeration there), but I don’t. Probably because my eyes were shut tight as I tried through the process. At that point, Blinn was pretty tired and in need of a break. Around five or six that morning he called Mandy asking her to come back. She showed up around seven perky and ready to go! I was contracting a little stronger and more frequently than when she left, but I could still carry on a conversation and function.
Eventually the day shift was on and my good ol friends Kathy and Kash were back. Pitocin started around 9:30 a.m. because surprise! The Foley helped dilate and thin me some, but it didn’t work perfectly. I was at 5 cm when it was removed. So, on one hand, yay – half of the way there! On the other hand, it had taken something like eighteen hours to get that far. Baby Blinn was just not ready!
When I labored with Elpida, Pitocin was a royal bitch. It was severe, miserable, life-sucking. Post birth, when Mandy and Blinn asked me to try and describe the feeling of Pitocin contractions I gave them this image: Imagine one of those metal pooper scoopers with jagged teeth dipped into flames clamping onto my uterus and tugging. Right. So this time in labor I was really dreading the god forsaken Pit. I didn’t want the baby to have it first and foremost, but I didn’t want to relive any part of my previous experience with it either. I don’t know if I’ll ever forget the feeling of those contractions.
Initially, it wasn’t bad – a twinge here and there – but I knew pain would increase. In birth experience one, the drug started dripping at an outlandishly high dose because the baby wasn’t at risk and we wanted to get the show on the road. Birth experience number two was much more gradual and more manageable (for a while anyway). I went into hypnobirthing mode when the Pit started and aside from when Blinn had gone home the morning before, it was my only time of quiet. I quickly tuned everyone and everything out and focused on deep breaths, words of strength and affirmation, visions of what the end stages of labor would be like, visions of my child! The Pit was increased by one every 30 minutes and in what seemed like no time at all, the monitor read seven when I starting feeling serious discomfort. The hypnobirthing worked! Either I had relaxed so much and became engulfed in the exercises, or I fell asleep at some point. Whatever the case, I was thankful for the break and sense of solitude for a while. I felt very encouraged that the coping mechanism I’d chosen for the experience that some scoffed at had really helped me. I knew it!
Contractions picked up which meant my pain got worse. By mid-afternoon I was very uncomfortable, especially on my back. My midwife Linda arrived around 5 p.m. and it was GREAT to have her there with my two other companions. Her hands helped, but I began to prefer Mandy’s touch over hers or Blinn’s. I felt bad for Blinn about that, but remembered Mandy preferring me over David as she labored with Emaline just a few months earlier so I didn’t dwell on it. I moved a lot. I paced around the room, rotated from laying on one side or the other, I sat on the toilet, I rocked on hands and knees (two of my favorite positions), I even talked nurses into letting me off the blasted monitors for a five minute hot shower. It was great, but those five minutes went by like milliseconds. I hugged Blinn’s neck a lot and we swayed from side to side a bunch. I raised the bed table and hunched over it sometimes and tried using the birthing ball – hated that. I also tried lunging forward on a rocking chair like Linda suggested – hated that too. I tried it all. What’s beautiful about it though is that I don’t remember any of it being a conscious choice, but rather my body calling the shots and finally taking over. My mind was less and less in control. … “Control”. Ha!
Somewhere in the pacing and swaying there was another shift change and new night nurses appeared. Dr. Roca was the OB on call. He was a stout man with little round glasses, a thick Puerto Rican accent, a scruffy face, and a laid back, calming demeanor. Dr. Schmidt was the resident on call. A girl around my age with thick, dark brown hair, simple and cute facial features, petite and soft-spoken. I wanted Kash. This Schmidt chick was gonna have to do though. Julie was our nurse. A slightly plump blonde with bad highlights, round glasses, and a somewhat slightly goofy grin. She was nice and sweet enough, I didn’t mind her and really, it was like she wasn’t there most of the time. I was in. the. zone.
I got more lasagna for dinner and ate it with ease even though contractions were pretty strong. I also asked for a roll, orange wedges, green beans and maybe I ate those too? I remember starting to nibble on the chocolate-vanilla swirl ice cream I’d requested and feeling nauseous. I asked for the barf basin but never put it to use. Maybe it was time to stop eating!
Around six Mandy left to get dinner (with Dad and Sherry who had been at the hospital for hours, unbeknownst to me!). When she returned an hour later she said a lot had changed and I seemed to be “in the thick of it and miserable”. I barely remember her leaving or returning so I must’ve been in another place. Mandy also told me that soon after her return I began to rather fearfully talk to Blinn and Linda about meds. No epidural and really, I didn’t want to have a thing, but I considered it because I was soooo tired. At that point I’d been awake for the better part of 36+ hours with the crappiest night of sleep the night before that. I think I was at 7 cm by that point and knew the hardest parts were still to come. How long would it be? Did I have the hours left in me to give? Linda assured me that using Nubain would be okay if for nothing else, to let my body relax a little and give myself time to rest, maybe even sleep. I asked Linda and Mandy to leave the room. In tears I told Blinn what inner struggle I was having. He was so supportive and told me to get the drug if I wanted it and not to worry about him or what anyone else would think. I was so torn. I decided to get it and well, all that agonizing was in vain because it offered very little relief. Contractions were still steady and strong and I felt everything, but I was able to close my eyes and catnap between them. I don’t remember how long that went on, but it proved to be a good choice to get the Nubain in the end because it gave me the boost I needed to get through the rest of the night… which really, FLEW by!
I couldn’t sit still. More rocking on all fours, pacing, counter pressure from everyone. We raised the bed and I leaned on it. I peed all over the floor. I felt the urge to poop, which of course was an urge to push so I pushed as I gripped the bed. Dr. Roca was slumped into a chair almost directly in front of me and he said something like “You cant be there, what if the bay comes out?” to which I barked, “ Then you’ll catch it!” in a whiny, yet in command tone. Ya don’t tell a woman she can’t do something when she’s pushing – fool! I pushed there a while, swayed with Blinn a while and moved to the beat of Baby Blinn’s lead. At one point I clearly remember the doctor saying “I think this is the only room on this floor that doesn’t have Lost on right now.” My ears perked up, a light bulb came on. “Oh no!”, I said. “Tonight’s the premiere, I forgot. We’ve been waiting for this for months, turn it on!” Just as I got the words out, another contraction doubled me over and well, the TV wasn’t ever turned on. And come to think of it, I don’t even remember there being a TV in that room…
The Nubain wasn’t blocking any pain, the urge to push grew stronger, but I still wasn’t at 10 cm. Linda suggested breaking the bag of waters. I was again, super reluctant. She said it might be the push over the edge that my body needed to dilate the rest of the way. She wasn’t pressuring me or giving me the sense that it was the thing to do, but presented the facts, the pros, the cons and allowed me to decide what I wanted to do. I think Blinn and I asked everyone to leave the room again so we could discuss things quietly. I was weepy and torn – again – but decided to do it. Lordy, what an unpleasant experience it is to have the sac broken! I screamed. I know I did. I’m not a stoic woman during birth. I don’t hold back, but I don’t force anything either. I surrender. There’s really no other choice.
Once that warm gush of water was flowing I was in full push mode immediately. Amazing! I had to lay on the bed contorted on my side for the water-breaking and surprisingly, I stayed like that to push. (What?!... Whatever!) Blinn was to my left and his two thin shirts were too hot on my skin. I snapped “Take your shirts off! You’re too hot!” He was awkward about it and fumbled til he got one layer off. “Take ‘em both off – you’re too hot on me!” Off came the second shirt and there we were skin to skin for the duration of the birth. In retrospect, I’m glad it was that way. Oh yeah, somehow, I’d stripped off everything in the course of active labor and I roamed the room as free as my baby girl was about to enter the world. Ha! I remember Julie up by my head on the right and a whole lotta other people crowding the room. Several times Julie told me not to scream, but to use that energy to focus on getting the baby out. I didn’t listen to Julie at all. I screamed and grunted and pushed with all my might. I was yelling “I hate this! I hate this! I hate this! and then all of a sudden: WHOOOSH! A baby was on the bed between my legs waving its arms, wiggling, screaming. We had a baby! A living, breathing, healthy-lungs baby! OH. MY. GOD! That teeny babe who’d kicked me all those months was there – on the outside and breathing! She came out head first (thank goodness!) on her back with her head towards her papa. Ahhhh! A baby!!!!!
Dr. Schmidt didn’t call out the sex and allowed Blinn to do it. It was pretty dark in the room and peoples’ shadows made it hard to see. Dr. Roca said “Come on now, you know what that is. You’ve seen one of those before.” People chuckled. Blinn said “It’s a… girl?”
I was shocked.
We were shocked.
A baby GIRL?!?!
Apparently, we both thought we were having a boy so the eensy weensy girl that lay there a-fussin’ was entirely a surprise! I was thrilled… and in shock! I kept saying “What? A girl?! What? What?” So funny.
Because the umbilical chord was quite short and thin, it was clamped right away (by Blinn). From the doctor’s hands she came straight to my chest and ohmygoodness. I could not believe it. There she was with her cry that sounded like the creak of a door that needed to be oiled and then slowly her cry faded as she nuzzled up under my chin. Hair matted, eyes tightly shut, hands fisted, vernix clinging to her skin – she just settled in with me like she’d known me forever and had done it a hundred times before. Incredible.
I didn’t know in the moment, but Pitocin was turned back on (after being turned off a while earlier because my body didn’t need the nudge anymore) to deliver the placenta. It didn’t feel good. I wish they’d let it come naturally, but the short, thin chord was cause for concern so out it had to come. I regret that happening as Z was on my chest. I didn’t embrace her fully because I was in a lot of pain. Several of the first pics of us together are of me winching or breathing through the pain. Oh well. One regret from the whole thing isn’t so bad.
Our skin to skin time is a blur. I’m sad about that, but what I wanted to happen in those moments for Z did happen and that’s what is important. Blinn bawled. Mandy sobbed. Linda smiled (and left soon after the birth). It was down to Mandy, Julie, Blinn and I in the room with our new babe. It was dreamlike. Absolutely unreal.
As Blinn said her name, I lost it. Mandy said “What’s her name?”, wanting to make sure she heard Blinn correctly. I repeated the name and she asked me if the Zachari meant something. I was nearly hysterical and couldn’t remember the meaning at all. I cried and cried and cried. Mandy cried with me. Blinn cried with me from across the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and our girl. My Zachari Jane. My beautiful miracle gift.
The tears, they are a flowin again. She's a gift in the truest sense. Thanks for posting this. You're birth of this girl changed me, and I will (gratefully) never be the same. Thank you just isn't enough...
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