I know I love reading people's birth stories.
I might have rambled a bit as I wrote this; it was hard to edit, because Caleb's birth was such a joyful, empowering experience for me.
Hope you enjoy reading this!
Chris and I were married for 6 years before we were ready to have a baby. We got pregnant easily, and had a fun and complication-free pregnancy. Together, we chose to let Baby's gender be a surprise, and have a drug-free delivery.
Our Baby "Rambo" was due July 3rd. At my 40-week checkup, I was 2 cm dilated and 60% effaced, but I wanted Rambo to stay put so that we could see Counting Crows perform on July 3 at Live on the Levee. Rambo complied. I was ready after that, but Rambo wasn't. I walked 3 miles each day, and Chris and I tried to keep busy. On July 5th, we played putt-putt golf (I won). On July 7th, I watched a pregnancy marathon on TLC including “A Baby Story”,” I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant”, “Obese and Pregnant”, and “I was Pregnant for 46 Years”. The last program was especially appropriate - I was starting to wonder if I that would be me!
On July 8th, I had mild contractions for 6 hours, but they didn’t seem like much and stopped before I went to bed. At 4:45 am on July 9th, I woke up with contractions that were consistently about 50 seconds long and 3-4 minutes apart. We took our time getting to the hospital, though, remembering friends’ advice to shower (Chris did) and eat breakfast (we stopped at McDonald’s) before we got there.
We arrived at 6:30 am, and the monitors indicated that my contractions were indeed 3 minutes apart and about 50 seconds long. However, I was STILL only 2 cm dilated! A sign on the wall clearly stated that true labor is regular contractions less than 5 minutes apart and 100% effacement or 3 cm dilation or spontaneous rupture of membranes. Apparently since I only had the contractions part, I wasn’t truly in labor and couldn’t be admitted. Stupid cervix.
The nurses gave us an hour before they re-examined me and made their final decree. I did not want to go home, so Chris and I spent the time walking up and down the one hall of the labor and delivery floor, hoping to speed along my progress. I had to pause every few minutes and lean against a wall when a contraction kicked in, but otherwise I felt great. We also did some squatting in the triage room, hoping to move Rambo further down. Our efforts worked, because an hour later I was 3-4 cm dilated, and admitted.
We got settled into our room and immediately set up the computer so that we could listen to our baby playlist – a mix of songs we had chosen months ago and had been playing often to Baby. The nurses were very supportive of our choice to have a drug-free birth; in fact, our main nurse had four children of her own that she had delivered naturally. They gave me a saline lock instead of an IV, and only bothered us once an hour to monitor Baby’s heart rate and my contractions. I felt lucky that I wasn’t tethered to any machines! The nurses instructed us to ask any time we felt I needed to be examined. I found this especially funny – how would I know if I needed to be examined or if I had made progress? Turns out it’s pretty easy to figure out. My body definitely let me know.
My contractions started getting stronger, with a lot of the pain focused in my lower back. Since we had been told Baby was in a posterior position, this made sense to us and we looked through our Bradley book for techniques to deal with back labor. Chris helped me through the contractions by massaging my back with a racquetball. At about 5 cm dilation, I decided to labor in my birthing suite’s Jacuzzi tub. Eventually I got too warm and had to leave the tub, and by this time I was about 6 cm along with very intense contractions. Chris tried to coach me into some of the labor positions that help with back labor, but I was grumpy and uncooperative and only willing to lie on my left side. I focused on breathing deeply and relaxing, which helped me get through each contraction. When I started to feel nauseated, I figured that I was probably in transition. When I vomited up my lovely McDonald’s breakfast, I was certain I was in transition. Though transition is supposed to be the hardest part of labor, I found it comforting to know I was there, because it meant everything would soon be over.
By this point, Chris had figured out that I just wanted to be left alone. He would occasionally say encouraging things, but the thing that helped me the most was just seeing him next to my bed. I knew that he was there, that he loved me, and that he was praying for me as I encountered each new contraction. For the last two hours of labor, his quiet presence was the only coaching I needed. I breathed through each contraction and prayed that God would get me through it and that my water would break (it still hadn’t broken and I was certain that it would make things easier if the stupid water would break). I found it helpful to just focus on the contraction I was experiencing at that moment; thinking about anything more was too overwhelming. When I began to feel an unbearable urge to push, I asked Chris to get a nurse. Apparently, quiet presence is a difficult thing to maintain in a dimly lit room with soothing music playing, because he didn’t respond.
He was asleep!
I think I might have been a bit harsh with him when I demanded that he get a nurse immediately, because this baby was coming out! That woke him up.
The nurses agreed that I was 10 cm dilated and called for my doctor, who was about 10 minutes away from the hospital. They began to prepare the room for delivery while I laid on my side and fought through the contractions. By now, the contractions were so intense that my whole body would shudder during each peak. I found that pushing gently during the contraction was helpful, and I was distinctly aware during those moments that I could feel Baby’s head in my birth canal. I was oblivious to all of the activity going on around me as I continued to pray that God would get me through it and that my water would break. Yes, my bag of water was STILL intact.
At 4:15 when my doctor finally arrived, the first order of business was dealing with my bag of waters. He told me he could deliver the baby with the amniotic sac intact (fascinating thing to think about!), or he could break my water. I was in no shape to ask intelligent questions at that point, so Chris asked about the risks. My only concern was which option was easier. When my doctor told us that there were basically no risks in breaking the water immediately before delivery and that it was easier, we opted to have it broken. All he had to do was poke the sac with his finger and the bag burst. However, there was a bit of meconium in the fluid, so they called for a pediatrician. Meanwhile, the nurses tried to make small talk with me and my doctor about my pedicure. Seriously? I did not want to chit chat! Maybe they didn’t realize I had no epidural.
The pushing itself was surprisingly easy. I remembered everything we had learned in class – deep breath, hold it, chin down, and push into your bottom. Don’t wrinkle your face – focus your energy into your bottom, not your face! It seems silly now, but when the nurses and doctor told me what a good job I was doing, I felt really proud of myself! I was doing a good job, and I knew it! Eventually, I got a bit red from pushing and the nurses brought me some oxygen. After about 30 minutes of pushing, Dr. Puckett began to get a little insistent and aggressive when he instructed me to push. I got annoyed – I was going to do this on my own terms! – until I noticed his eyes flit to the monitors. Something was wrong. I learned later that with each contraction, Baby’s heart rate was dropping. At that point, Dr. Puckett determined we were delivering this baby, perineum be damned. A few pushes and at 4:45 pm out came our Rambo – a little baby boy!
When Dr. Puckett announced that Rambo was a boy, I remember saying, “Are you sure? I could have sworn it was a girl.” I was wrong, though, and we named our little miracle Caleb, after the man in the Bible who followed God wholeheartedly and without fear. He was 7 pounds exactly, exactly 20 inches long, and born after exactly 12 hours of labor. Crazy! I immediately brought him to my breast to begin nursing, and at the same time, Chris and I began falling in love with this new little person.
Everyone asks if delivering a baby drug-free was painful. Honestly, the delivery itself wasn’t a big deal. The most uncomfortable part of the process was the last hour of contractions, and the week of healing afterwards. I’m so glad I gave birth to our little boy naturally, and I hope to do the same with any more children we have. Chris and I were so glad we chose to take Bradley classes to prepare for Caleb’s birth. We both knew what to expect and felt prepared for Caleb’s arrival. Knowing what to expect made the whole thing so much easier to handle!
