I have birthed two babies now. Totally different pregnancies, totally different labors, totally different deliveries. This is the story of how my second baby, my first little boy, Isaac Bright, made his way into the world, face up.
See the birth story of my first, Camilla Imogen Garrison, HERE.
On the evening of August 21st my contractions began to come regularly and intensify. No longer were they the simple squeezes of a braxton hicks. They were deeper cramps that lasted longer and wrapped around to by back. My daughter was in bed, my mom, stepmom and little brother were all sleeping over. It was a full moon, the second time that month, a blue moon.
Under the instruction of my family doctor and my doula I knew I needed to head to the hospital soon after labor began in ernest. My daughter, a first baby, had been a relatively fast labor - only about 8 hours of active labor, pretty fast, for a first baby. See her birth story HERE. I went to bed that night, but couldn't really sleep. At 1:30 AM we went to the hospital. I couldn't debate when to go or not go. I couldn't worry for any longer about leaving my daughter during the night. It was time to go. At that point, based on my last labor and the fact that second babies usually come faster, we figured there'd be a baby sometime in the morning. We were wrong.
When I arrived at the hospital my cervix was 3xm dialated. My doctor was called, my doula was texted. This was at about 2AM. My contractions were coming ever 4 minutes, much advanced from the 8 minutes apart they had been earlier that evening. I was surprised to hear that I was not 4cm or more. I got worried. I felt very tired. I don't want the hospital to send me home. I wanted to have a baby.
So I did what so many laboring moms do: I walked. And I walked and walked and walked and walked and walked. I was very chipper and super friendly. "As above, so below." If you smile, your cervix will smile with you. And I made a lot of friends. The nurse, doctors, residents, medical students. And little did I know how much I was going to need the support if these friends over the next 24 hours!
At 6AM I had been walking for four hours and hadn't slept in 24 hours. I was exhausted and anxious. Something felt off. The nurses told me to rest for a couple hours and my doctor would come in to check my progress when I woke up. I couldn't sleep. I felt tons of psychological pressure. I thought for sure I'd have had the baby already. I felt rushed, like I needed to hurry up and birth and go home to my big girl. I felt like my family was waiting in tender hooks. I felt impatient and exhausted and anxious. My heart raced as I lay there with my eyes closed. I breathed through contractions and talked myself down as best I could. I knew rest was the only way is feel better. After two hours my doctor came and checked my cervix. 4cm. It had taken me 6 hours to dilate only ONE centimeter. I was devastated. But at that point the decided to admit me to the hospital. That meant it was real. That meant no matter how slow I felt things were going, they were still going. I was going to have a baby! It was the 22nd of August and I'd been in labor for 13 hours. Chris had been there with me throughout, documenting in photos, walking the the halls and cheering me on. We were tired and scared and in it together, with both feet.
Over the next 18 hours I pushed my body beyond what I ever could have imagined. Most babies are in the anterior position, facing down, which allows their bodies to confirm to the shape of your pelvis, allows their chin to tuck and allows their head to squish. See HERE for a great comparison drawing. My son was not so cooperative. He was completely posterior, making my labor longer, less productive and more painful. Surprise! Second baby is easier to birth-- NOT!
My doula, Shelley, who was with us for my first birth, arrived and together we used every prop in the hospital to try to make my contractions stronger, closer together, longer and more productive, despite his position. We walked and did seep knee bend lunges. We used birth balls of different shapes and sizes, positioning, nipple stimulation, massage, breathing, sifting. We talked through my emotions to see if we could clear anything that might be holding me back. But it was painfully slow and exhausting. The baby wouldn't descend onto my cervix. and I needed the pressure of his head to make dilation effective.
My knees and hands were bruised from holding on to bars and digging into beds. Every muscle hurt. But we kept laughing, joking, smiling. We kept chanting, through each contraction, visualizing my cervix opening like a flower, seeing the baby being pulled down, down, down. Lynn arrived to photograph the birth. Little did she know what a long process she has signed up for. Lynn, Chris and Shelley took turns sleeping when possible, resting, getting water, and being amazing. This baby would not have been delivered vaginally, without medication, if not for the relentless support of the team around me. My amazing doctor, who stayed with is for the entire labor and trusted my body, even when I did not. The nurses, who did everything they could to make us all comfortable and keep me and baby safe. My husband, who slept and ate less than I did, and probably worried more. Shelley, the doula of the year, deserves an award for her fierce commitment to women and the confidence she instills in them. One look at her face told me there was nothing to fear.
My body temperature fluctuated. Sweating, then to shivering so hard I was shaking. The nurses and doctors piled warm blankets on me. I labored for a while in the tub, the warm weather soothing my sore muscles and warming me up. But when I tried to get out, I found my legs wouldn't hold me. My blood pressure dropped and I shivered and shook. Chris and Shelley, dried me, wrapped me in blankets and carried me to bed where I cried, out of fear and exhaustion, that I missed my daughter and didn't want to die in childbirth.
It turned out I had a fever, caused by something called chorioamnionitis. Essentially, an infection in the amniotic sac or fluid. So they started me on fluids and antibiotics via IV. After a chat with my doctor, we decided that I needed to rest before deciding any next steps. I was physically and mentally exhausted. I was scared of the next steps. Scared that I wouldn't progress and would need a c section. Scared that the pain would get too intense. Scared of all of my options.
So we turned off the lights, my amazing nurse brought in little flameless votives, and we put on some nature sounds. Between each contraction I slept. I stayed calm and breathed through the contractions and went right back to sleep. I started to feel calmer, more centered. My strength came back, I felt braver. After about an hour and a half of rest my sense of humor came back. My doctor came back in and asked me if I'd given any thought to what was next. The issue at that point, at 9cm and fully effaced, was that my water hadn't broken. Instead of baby's head pushing against my cervix, it was bouncing off the bag of waters. Again, due to the fact that he was face up. I decided it was time for them to manually break my water and see if it would help me get "fully" (ie fully dilated and ready to push). I was nervous, after your water is broken contractions tend to intensify in length, frequency and pain. But, I also knew in my gut that we had reached the moment of truth. I was as rested as I was going I get and I needed to have this baby.
My sweet, sweet doctor explained the whole process to me and kept me calm. At one thirty in the morning, after 24 hours of laboring in the hospital, she broke my water and then time started to speed up. This is also when Chris had to stop taking pictures. You'll notice a lapse in the slideshow. Well, trust me, the next 45 minutes required all hands on deck. Did I mention I was that deck?
Luckily for the documentation process, Lynn was there too, and she nailed it, but I am not ready to share these photos quite so publicly, yet. (Though they might get real public if the get into Lynn's piece in National Geographic...) They are super intense. Lots of pain and blood, but also quite amazing and beautiful. Visit sometime and we'll have a private viewing.
After my doctor broke my water the contractions intensified by one million trillion percent. They have this terrible question they ask in the hospital all throughout labor: "If you had to rate your pain from 1 to 10, ten being most painful, what would it be." Up to that point I answered anywhere between three and four point five. The nurse, after asking it again, said "I don't have to ask this anymore if you don't want." I guess she could see in my eyes (or hear in my screams) that we had zoomed past a fucking ten, straight through the teens, and were somewhere in the triple digits. Ow. And I kept having to pee. Which would involve monitors being detached and one of those rolling IV wheelie things and also me lumbering my exhausted, half naked, sweaty, very pregnant self across the room and then trying to pee, get up, and haul myself back across the room before another contraction laid me out. I barely ever made it and mostly Chris and Shelly and Marge (the rockstar nurse of the end game) would have to catch me coming out of the bathroom as my legs tried to give out. I still refused to pee in a bedpan. the last trip to the bathroom (still pregnant) was at 2:03 AM (I know because I checked the metadata timestamps on the photos). Marge actually had to go WITH me that times as the contractions were so close together. I also kept telling her I had to poop and she kept telling me I wasn't allowed. At the time this seemed very confusing, but by the time we made it back to the bed, I understood. There was something I had to push out - but it was a baby. Luckily, she understood this, and baby wasn't born in the loo. I barely made it back to the bed before I could no longer contain the urge to push (apparently something that I didn't feel the first time around). I started to push/scream/cry all at the same time.
I can't really find the words to describe the pain of pushing out a posterior/face up baby. All I know is I was in some completely awkward position as I started pushing and kind of froze in that position. All my ideas of watching him crown in a mirror, of using the birth bar, of catching him as he emerged...well, all of those went right out the window. All I remember is that is was very, very fast (though Chris seems to think it went slow). With my first, I pushed for about two and half hours. So, comparatively, these 10 minutes didn't seem long. But boy were they intense.
And then, after feeling like my body was ripped in half, I felt the most incredible sensation of relief and then poof! There was a baby on my chest! And oh my gosh in two seconds the entire world shifts. This freaking new person, this new life, this whole ten-fingered, ten-toed wonder just CAME OUT OF MY BODY. And I adore him. I just do. Strange, profound and incredible, your heart just doubles in size and your belly shrinks.
Welcome to your family, Isaac. We were waiting our whole lives just for you. We love you and promise to do the best we can.
I've read a couple other birth stories recently.
They give me a warm fuzzy feeling.
You can see them HERE and HERE.