My first Mother’s Day started at 3:30am on 10 May
2015. I woke up from a night of hanging
out with friends and eating Mexican food with what I thought was serious gas
pain. I’d already had
spells of diarrhea earlier, and just kept chalking it all up to the Mexican
food I ate. I headed to the bathroom,
and started to feel this gush down below.
I didn’t think anything of it at first because I’ve
felt this before and it turned out to just be crazy discharge. The gushing kept coming though. One wave after another until it was puddling
at my feet all over my bathroom floor.
That’s when I called Kit who was on his way home from Tulsa and
had stayed the night in Vicksburg, Mississippi, about 7 hours away. “Hey babe, so I think my water just
broke. Like it’s all over the
floor.” We
both agreed I should go in to the hospital and have it checked. With a new rush of excitement and adrenaline
I packed up the remaining items we needed in our hospital bags, fed the dog,
loaded up the car and drove 20 minutes to the hospital. The whole time I kept thinking the next time
I’m home could be with Norah!
I got to the hospital but didn’t bring my bags in
with me quite yet. I didn’t
want to feel foolish if this was a false alarm, and have to carry all the stuff
back down to the car. Once I was
in-processed the nurse swabbed me to detect amniotic fluid and sure enough,
positive. Holy cow. Shit just got real. I’m having a baby today. The nurse checked me and I was dilated to a 2
still. I immediately called Kit and told
him to get on the road. This was about
5am. My next call went to my doula, no
answer. I texted our birth photographer
and gave her a heads up, then called the Mom’s to let them know
their granddaughter was arriving on Mother’s Day! I tried to go back to my car to get my
things, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital. My doula calls me back around 7am to tell me
she can’t be there until about 3pm, she’s out of town! She was going to send her back up
though. At this point I was a little panicky. I was alone, without any of my comfort items,
laboring solo. Definitely not how I
pictured this day starting out! At this
point I felt some period-like cramping but nothing I couldn’t
talk through yet.
At 9:00am my back-up doula arrived, Bethany. We introduced ourselves, and she was nice
enough to run down to my car and fetch my bags!
This was the first time to meet her, but it wasn’t awkward at all
because I was just so relieved not to be alone anymore. My contractions were coming a little quicker
now, about 5-8 minutes apart and they were causing me to stop talking. We tried the birth ball I brought, but it
hurt so much to lean forward at all or crunch up on the ball that I quickly
threw that option out the window. I did
start reading through my birth affirmation cards trying to prepare my mind for
the pain that was to shortly come.
Around 11:00 the contractions were so painful I couldn’t
lay in bed for the EFM 20 minutes per hour.
I just couldn’t lay on my back and take the
pain. It felt more bearable if I could
stand up, sway through it and have the doula press into my hips with her hands. In between contractions I called Kit and told
him to hurry. The nurse checked me and I
was dilated to a 6 with the contractions almost lasting 5 minutes long. He was about a hour out!
Around 12:00pm the contractions were rough, long and left me with
little breaks between. I couldn’t
sit or lay down. I was sure I was
getting close because the pain was only increasing, I was hiccuping (my midwife
said that’s a normal effect for the third phase of labor) and I was
shaking like crazy. Then finally in
walks my husband who I hadn’t see for two months with a huge smile
on his face and open arms.
I broke down entirely.
There I was standing in front of him in mesh hospital granny panties, a
bra and a belly as big as a pumpkin with tears just streaming down my
face. Not how I had planned on us seeing
each other for the first time, but it was still amazing. I haven’t ever felt more
relief than I did in that moment. He
wrapped me in his arms and I cried into his shoulder until the the next
contraction hit. The doula took her
position pressing into my hips and he stepped right in, let me squeeze his arms
and he coached me through each contraction after that. He kept saying things like, “You’re
doing such a good job. The pain is
bringing us closer to meeting Norah.
Keep breathing. You’re
doing great!” Freaking
rock star.
My midwife came in this time
to check my dilation and I was at an 8 now!
She estimated if things kept progressing that we’d probably have
this baby about 3pm. At this point my
midwife suggested I get in the tub to help me relax between contractions, so in
the tub I went. It felt better between
contractions but I couldn’t sit in the tub through the
contractions so I was constantly getting in and out the water which was pretty
exhausting. I labored in the tub for
about 30 minutes before I wanted out.
 |
| Apparently something funny was said! |
Around 3:00pm my original doula arrived and the contractions were
at an all time high. I was positive it
was almost time for that urge to push.
In fact I kept begging out loud that I wanted to push! By that I meant I wanted that urge to push to
come. I still hadn’t
felt that urge yet, but I kept trying to force it. Nothing. The midwife checked me again, no progress and
the baby still hadn’t dropped. At this point I became
really discouraged. I’d
been in extreme unmedicated pain for the last 3 hours at least for
nothing? No progress, not even dilated
one more centimeter? She decided to rig
up a squat bar at the foot of my hospital bed.
She wanted me to squat down as much as I could between contractions to
try to get Norah to drop, which would dilate me the last little bit I needed. We tried this for another 1.5 hours. Now the contractions were almost
unbearable. I had tears streaming down
my face and the contractions were lasting at least 5 minutes long and 1 minute
a part. During that one minute I would
clutch a pillow to my chest, sit on the edge of my bed and drift off to sleep. I was so exhausted. Kit and the doula would hold me up until the
next contraction hit that would bring me back on my feet. I’d been in labor now since about 12
hours and still stuck at a damn 8 centimeters.
Around 4:30pm the midwife came back and talked to us about
options. She checked me again, no
progress. Luckily Norah was handling
labor beautifully and her heart rate was steady as could be. Norah still hadn’t fully engaged
into my pelvis yet and I wasn’t dilated past an 8. She said she’d had patients who
got an epidural, relaxed, and it allowed the baby to finally drop and still
have a vaginal birth. My husband was so
supportive and kept reminding me of our birth plan, and talked to the midwife
about further options. He knew I didn’t
want an epidural because it was a gateway drug to having a c-section, something
I REALLY didn’t want. Truth be told
nothing I was doing was making any progress, so we decided to try the
epidural. I want to give a huge shoutout
here to our midwife Tammy. She allowed
me to labor way past the comfort zone of any doctor at that hospital and kept
working with us, trying many methods to try to make little Norah drop. She was so patient, calm and really allowed
us to exhaust all efforts before suggesting the epidural.
I got the epidural about 4:45pm and luckily it was quick. It felt a little strange wiggling around in
there but wasn’t bad at all. Kit had
to sit down for it though. He got
light-headed and almost passed out! He’s
not good around needles. Blood, no biggie
but he can’t handle needles. I
had anxiety about a contraction hitting right as he was injecting into my back
and me not being able to hold still, but he timed it perfectly. After the epidural they covered me with
blankets because I was cold and shaking like crazy, turned me on my side and
propped my leg up in stirrups to open up my pelvis. Then we waited. I think my doula and husband were grateful
for the break as well. I could still
move my legs, but the best part was that I could rest. I slept and welcomed the rest, hoping I’d
need it to push our daughter out soon.
Around 6:30pm the midwife check me again; still there was no
progress. She said Norah was way too
high and she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t
dropping. Now in my medical history she knew
of my mother and her pelvis wouldn’t spread to allow me to drop
either. We had hoped I wouldn’t
have the same issue, but it looks like I inherited it as well. She told us we could continue to wait it out
because Norah was still doing great, despite my blood pressure tanking a couple
times, or we could start to discuss a c-section. Everyone left the room and let Kit and I talk
in private.
This was one of the hardest conversations we’ve
had in awhile. We didn’t
know really what to do. Progress wasn’t
happening and hadn’t happened in 6.5 hours. We felt like we tried everything and nothing
was working. I told him I was afraid if
we took the c-section option that he would think I didn’t try hard enough
or that I just wanted the easy way out.
At that moment my amazing husband reassured me countless times that I
was amazing, that I tried my hardest and he couldn’t possibly think
that of me. With both of us in tears I
finally asked him, “Well are you ready to meet our
daughter?” It
brought smiles to both our faces and we knew we were ready. We’d been focusing so much on getting
through the next contraction and getting the baby to drop that the thought of
meeting our daughter kind of escaped our minds during those last painful
hours. If I had been making any progress
whatsoever then we’d have waited, but it just wasn’t
happening. We called the midwife, nurses
and doula back in and told them we were ready for a c-section. The nurses prepped me, the midwife called the
doctor to perform the surgery (the midwife can’t perform the
c-section) and Kit was dressed in scrubs.
We took a couple last minute pre-surgery photos and away I went to the
operating room.
Looking back we had the doula, the midwife, the birth plan and
the determination to carry out a natural, unmedicated vaginal birth, but just
not the right baby positioning to allow it.
During the c-section our midwife assisted the doctor. While they were getting to Norah she peeked
over the curtain and told us Norah was actually wedged off-center into my
pelvis and was unable to descend any further.
This was later evident on our daughter’s face because her
poor nose was pretty smushed after being shoved into my pelvis for hours on
end. Whether it was my pelvis not
spreading or Norah just being wedged in there wrong, we’ll never know, but
I know that we tried our hardest to bring her out naturally. It just wasn’t in the cards after
all. I thought I’d be upset about
it, hurt or left feeling cheated.
Honestly I feel like a warrior.
I labored for 14 hours unmedicated, and earned our right to become
parents with blood, tears and hours of pain.
I’m grateful for the incredibly supportive staff we had
surrounding us, and I know we did everything we could. I don’t feel cheated, but so grateful for
our unique birthing story and the chance to safely bring our daughter in to the
world. I’m at peace with the
decisions we made every time I look into our daughter’s sweet eyes.
Lastly, I’d like to give the biggest shout out
to my husband. This man blew my
expectations out of the water. He
finished a long 7 hour road trip only to step seamlessly into being the perfect
birthing coach a laboring momma could ever need. He changed my bloody pads, wiped me, allowed
me to clutch him for dear life through each painful contraction, and throughout
it all never stopped encouraging me with his calming voice. This man was a rockstar and I don’t
know how I could have held out for so long without him. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my
life, and he took complete care of me without any hesitation or
distractions. I don’t
think I can ever thank him enough or repay him in any way for the care he gave
me. Maybe giving him the most perfect
daughter we could have ever dreamed of is a good start.
Birth/Fresh 48 Photography By Kiersten Grant Photography
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