So, as you have probably gathered by now, Alice Jane made her entrance into the world early this morning.
My mind is still trying to wrap itself around the sharp contrast between my birthing experience with Ava and the one I just had with Alice.
In case you didn't read my post on Ava's birth story or simply don't remember it here are the key points:
- Induced at 39.5 weeks because of a severe case of PUPPS that was driving me insane. At that point I hadn't experienced any signs of labor. No braxton hicks, no contractions, no lost mucus plug, no water breaking and I was only 50% effaced and 1 cm dilated.
- Was in active labor for over 24 hours, 4 of which were spent pushing.
- I had an epidural when I reached 7 cm after having 2 doses of morphine.
- Ava was face up and simply not coming out. We were presented with the decision to either go with forceps or vacuum assistance or a c-section. We opted for the c-section because it seemed the least threatening option for Ava, even though it was my worst birthing nightmare realized.
- Had a successful c-section that left me in a lot of pain, exhausted and spending almost a week in the hospital recovering.
I think that about covers it.
Are you ready to hear Alice's birth story?
I have no idea how dilated and effaced I was in the weeks leading up to Alice's birth because I never had them check me. I mean, what's the point? I could spend weeks dilated to 4 cm or be dilated to 1 cm and go into labor the next day. So, as hard as it was not to know, I decided that I would avoid obsessing over a detail that doesn't really mean much by simply not finding out how my body was progressing. Ultimately, I am really happy with this decision. I became really in tune with my body. I noticed feeling off even if I couldn't pin point why. I could tell when a contraction was helping with dilation vs. when it wasn't. Don't get me wrong, I still would get my hopes up with even the most irregular set of slightly painful contractions only to be disappointed when they disappeared, but I also spent a lot of energy embracing the unpredictability of labor. I came to realize that each day could be THE day and that was exciting. I became very zen about the whole thing.
I was given the option at my appointment last week to try Castor oil to get things going if I felt that I really couldn't wait anymore. It was a tempting offer. I could have run right out to pick some up but decided instead to wait until the situation became a truly urgent one, one where I was getting too close to my due date and therefore to the threat of HAVING to have a repeat c-section. Instead we decided to go with a more natural self-induction route -- sex. (Sorry if this is TMI, but I have to keep it real.) At firs the prospect of sex at 38 weeks pregnant did not at all sound like fun. I can't move, I don't feel sexy, I often can't breath and my body is not my own. But, we went for it anyway and I was pleasantly surprised. I enjoyed having that intimacy with my husband before all heck broke loose and it was a beautifully poetic thing when I thought about it. We were now trying to get our darling baby to come out in the same way that we had gone about creating her.
The first time we had sex it caused to fairly painful contractions, but they weren't at all regular and disappeared within 24 hours. But, they gave me enough hope, and well, the sex was enjoyable enough, to encourage me to stick with my natural induction plan.
So, that brings us to yesterday. Yesterday morning I was a woman on a mission. I wanted to see if I could get things rolling and spend some time with my husband. I do love that man afterall ;). So, we had sex again.
I didn't experience anything the first few hours afterward, which made me feel like it wasn't going to work, but that is the great thing about sex to induce -- it is NEVER a waste of time. If it doesn't bring on contractions you have still spent time being intimate with your spouse, which is important, especially when you are about to bring chaos into your lives.
Anyhoo, back to the story.
About 2 hours after we had sex I started to experience uncomfortable contractions, but they didn't last long, weren't a consistent strength and weren't evenly spaced. So, I thought we were dealing with another false alarm. Believe me, I was paying attention too, waiting for them to become even remotely regular enough to warrant timing them. I felt that if the contractions were weak enough for me to ignore them then that is what I should do because I didn't want to waste energy obsessing over anything and everything.
So, I go through my day, blah blah blah, and then the contractions start to become regular. I felt like they were around 4-5 minutes apart, lasting maybe 30-40 seconds. I was just about to start timing them when all of the sudden they were speeding up. I could barely roll over in bed, walk to the bathroom or do anything else between contractions. I also was having a hard time doing anything through a contraction.
I started to panic. What the heck was going on? I mean these contractions came out of NOWHERE. I thought we would have the hour we needed to call and have someone come get Ava. I thought my contractions would be bearable enough to allow me to drive to the hospital. I thought my contractions would increase in intensity gradually enough to allow my brain to adjust right along with them. This was simply not the case.
Adrian called his mom and told her to meet us at the hospital, we didn't have time to have her come get Ava before we left the house. We didn't have time to call labor and delivery to warn them about our arrival. Adrian had to drive to the hospital because I couldn't stand to be in the sitting position. Crap was getting real -- real painful.
We got to the hospital and I was in so much pain, having a contraction that required groaning to get through every one to two minutes and they didn't completely end, they simply faded to a more bearable level before the start of the next. I had to take a wheel chair ride to labor and delivery because it would have taken me an hour to get there walking.
I signed my name twice between contractions, went into a room where my contractions and the baby's heartbeat were monitored and then my worst nightmare for this pregnancy came true. I was asked to lay down, ON MY BACK on a hospital bed to be checked for progress. WHO IN THE HECK THINGS OF THIS CRUEL TORTURE?!
Dear woman who have given birth naturally on your back,
How in the heck did you not die?
Sincerely,
Lady so utterly grateful for a hospital that does not insist on this cruel and torturous position for any portion of labor.
Thankfully, the midwife was quick about it and got me on my back, checked and back on all fours between contractions. As amazing as that was, what truly through me for a loop was the number she said. In the most calm ho-hum voice you could ever imagine she announced that I was dilated to a 9 and my water was bulging. Alice was still pretty high given how dilated I was, but she was confident that if my water broke she would sink into place. The plan was to move me to my room, break my water and get this show on the road.
Now, here is where I confess something. I went into this labor wanting a medication-free VBAC delivery with every fiber of my being. My mother gave birth to all three of her children without medication as did Adrian's mother. It is like a sorority of women warriors that I desperately wanted to belong to. I could do this. I knew I could do this -- when I was safely tucked in the sanity that is a pregnant lady not yet in labor. When I was in that first room, though, I verbally expressed my doubt. Okay, that is a total understatement, I pretty much flat out said I wanted drugs. ANYTHING. I felt like I was going to die. This was before that magically number was announced though. When the midwife told me I was at a 9 she basically told me that at this point the only way to get relief was to push that baby out because an epidural wouldn't have time to kick in and morphine and similar drugs wouldn't be strong enough to compete with my contractions at this point.
I was too tired and didn't have enough time between contractions to protest. I am thankful for this now.
So, I told them I wanted to walk to my room, but I could only make it 5 steps between contractions, so I ended up in a wheelchair. Evil wheelchairs.
I got into the room and have monitors hooked up to me, a capped IV inserted and signed some forms all while continuing to experience contractions so strong I felt as though I would being ripped in half from the inside.
I remained standing through all of this. The hospital bed I leaned on through contractions was the devil and to be avoided at all costs.
Contractions continued to get strong and came so closely together I hardly had time to catch my breath between them. I felt the urge to push, but my water hadn't broke and I hand't lost my mucus plug, so I held off simply breathing through the contractions and trying to focus on opening my body up to the labor. That is when I felt the small warm trickle. My water was threatening to break. Next contraction came and I focused on opening up with all my might and BAM my water broke in a flood.
I felt a momentary break from the near unbearable pressure I had been experiencing. Within a minute the pressure my water had provided was replaced by pressure provided by Alice's head. And oh what an enjoyable pressure it was. That's sarcasm folks.
Now I really new what that urge to push felt like because I involuntary began to grunt, scream, claw at the bed and PUSH through each contraction until I HAD to take a breath. I would take the shortest breath my exhausted body would allow and go right back to pushing. The pushing hurt, it brought on a more intense pressure and pain, but the act of not pushing was worse.
I could feel her head moving lower with each push. I felt like her head was ripping me in half. I told everyone that I couldn't do it anymore, and as soon as I heard the words escape my mouth that is when the realization that I had to do it again and again for an indefinite amount of time because it was my only way out. Everyone reassured me. They told me I was doing great, her head was RIGHT there and that I could indeed do this because I already was. Adrian whispered sweet words of encouragement and pride in my ear in a voice so low only I could hear him. I knew he was struggling with watching me endure this pain, he was quiet and frozen, so though those words were few and far between, they were the ones that did the most for my determination because I knew how hard it was for him to say anything at this point.
I kept pushing and pushing. No one counted the length of my pushes. No one told me to fish in three per contraction. No one told me how or where to push. No one told me how to grunt, scream or otherwise deal with the pain. They simply let me do what I had to do. Told me to push at the frustration. To get mad at it and PUSH with all my anger.
I stood there, supporting myself with my hands on the bed, slightly bent over praying between contractions. I literally asked Jesus for strength between contractions when I didn't need to ask for water or express my inability to keep going.
They continued to monitor Alice's heartbeat through the whole process. I think she was starting to show signs of distress because they were telling me to push with all my might or I was going to have to get in the bed. Dun dun dun.
I pushed through a couple more contractions and they seemed pleased with my progress for a minute, but then when I couldn't get her out with the next bunch of pushes I was instructed to get into the bed. I purposely took my time, waiting for my next contraction to come. With one leg up on the bed and the other firmly planted on the floor I pushed. I pushed longer and harder than I had up to that point. I knew that I had to get her out or I was going to be forced into that bed. I felt every inch of her head passing through the birthing canal. I felt her coming. I felt that ring of fire and embraced it as my escape from the confines of that evil bed. I pushed again and felt every limb become free from my body. And just as soon as it had started it was over.
The first words out of my mouth were, "I did it. I can't believe I did it."
Between contractions I was resting my torso across the bed in an exhaustion so deep I couldn't even must the strength to ask for water most of the time. During contractions I pushed through a pain I was sure would kill me via tearing my body in half from the inside. Through all that I brought that little girl into this world. And I not only brought her into this world, I felt every inch of that journey.
I can't say I look forward to doing it again, but I can say that I think God taught me something about myself through Alice and her birth. He purposely brought that labor on so fast that I would have no time for pain meds. He knew I could do it, he knew my strength, even while I was doubting it. He gave me back the empowered feeling I lost through the whole Ava birth fiasco of '08. He showed me that I was capable of belonging to that special sorority of women warriors. He sent me my membership card, the same membership card my mother, Adrian's mother and several other women carry with them. The card that reminds us that even when you face something so overwhelming that your brain reaches the conclusion that there is no way you can possibly survive this not only can you survive, but you can also bring something truly beautiful to the world at the same time.
So, while Alice's labor lasted roughly 3 hours from when the contractions seemed legit enough to time to her entrance into the world, I feel that I traveled a whole lifetime during her labor.