Luke's birth story

Luke turned a year old yesterday. It's seems like a good time to look back and remember his birth.

I had been having very strong Braxton-Hicks contractions for over a month. Especially in the evenings or if I exerted myself at all my belly would start tightening up and I would feel so much pressure! This caused a few false alarms, since the contractions would be rhythmic and even seem to increase in intensity and frequency over time. However they always petered out and I would be so disappointed. For the last few checkups I had been measuring in at 2 centimeters dilated and 90% effaced. We suspected that when labor started it would go quickly since my mom had very fast labors with both my brother and I. Her labor with me was only an hour and a half!

I was due on Tuesday, August 30, 2011. On the preceding Friday Hurricane Irene hit the Eastern Shore. My birth center was in Annapolis - an hour and a half and one very large bridge away from our house. We knew the hurricane was coming so we debated going to Annapolis and getting a hotel room before the hurricane hit us. We knew the bridge would close if the winds got to 50 knots and we didn't want to be stuck on the shore while I was in labor. Ultimately we decided to risk staying home, mostly because we didn't want to miss the hurricane party that would be going on at my parents house over the weekend. A few times over the weekend the contractions started getting stronger, but just like every time before they slowed before anything interesting happened. By this point I was convinced I would be pregnant forever.

That Monday morning I woke around 7:30am with strong cramps and heavy pressure. It was what I had been feeling all along so I didn't think much of it. The only real difference was my mood. I was annoyed and angry and ready for a fight. Chris saw the discomfort I was feeling and suggested I might be in actual labor this time. I reacted strongly to this. "I am not in labor! This is just like every other time! It's false labor! How could you not understand?"  My incoherent raving dissolved into tears and I retreated into the bathroom. I got into the shower on my hands and knees and positioned the shower head to spray on my back. It helped the pressure of the cramps. I was in there sulking for about 10 mins, crying if Chris even poked his head in, when Chris very wisely decided it was time to call in reinforcements. He asked my mom to come over. When she came in the bathroom to see how I was doing I sobbed to her that I was only cramping, but "Chris is being so mean to meeeee." Since this statement was so out of character and I was on my hands and knees rocking back and forth, moaning a little with the pain, she ignored my protestations and called the midwife, David. When she described my symptoms he agreed I could be in labor and told them to time my contractions. They were coming steadily and getting progressively stronger. Once I started to feel them get stronger than I had ever felt before, I allowed myself to start believing that this could really be it! Maybe I would get to meet my baby today! Once I let that hope in and admitted I might possibly be in labor my whole mood changed. I got so excited! I felt mortified that I had gotten so angry over nothing and hated that I had started the first day of my baby's life in a bad mood. Of course, looking back I know now that my mood was just a signal that labor was finally starting.

Chris holding me on the floor of the van,  mid-contraction.

We decided to head toward Annapolis and called the birth center to let them know we were on our way. That's when we found out that even though Hurricane Irene had left the Eastern shore largely unscathed it hadn't been as kind to the Western shore. There were massive power outages and the birth center had no electricity and no generator. They told us that I couldn't give birth there and I would have to go to Anne Arundel Hospital. I was horrified. I could give birth in a hospital 10 mins away from my house! I was driving over an hour and a half to birth naturally in a tub, with a midwife and candles if I wanted them, darnit! My anger had no effect on them. Neither did my assurances that I didn't need electricity to give birth. We began to drive and I hoped that the power would be restored on our way there. I loved that drive.Chris and I sat on the floor of the van in a little nest of pillows and blankets and he held me during every contraction. I got to stare up at him and I tried to imprint those last moments with just the two of us in my head.

When we got to the hospital they admitted me to an exam room so they could see how far along I was. I was sort of hoping that I wasn't very far along so that I could wait for the power to come back on at the birth center. When they checked me though, I was already at 5 centimeters dilated! I started crying, and told them I could stop the labor, I wanted to wait until I could birth the way I had PLANNED IT!! The midwife told me very kindly, but very firmly that I was going to give birth at the hospital. End of discussion. I think that the nurses must have taken pity on me because they gave us the VIP birthing room. When we walked into the very large room and saw floor to ceiling windows, kitchenette and a huge bathroom, I started to feel a little better about birthing there.

Fetal monitoring me while I balanced on a birthing ball.

I had been in labor for about 7 hours at this point, but it hadn't been difficult at all. As we were getting settled into the hospital room I got my first indication that labor might become, well, painful. Up until that point I had only felt pressure during my contractions. For the next few contractions I the pain made me moan and groan. Truth be told, at this point I was kind of reveling in the fact that I was finally feeling real labor.They hooked me up to the fetal monitor and started tracking my contractions. Chris had spent the last several months doing clinical rotations in labor and delivery and he was able to read the printout. He made an offhand comment about my contractions being at a 20 or 30, but he was used to seeing women labor with a Pitocin drip and they started at 50 or 60. The comment stuck with me because I thought my contractions were intense already. I couldn't fathom what 50 or 60 could feel like. And then that thought went further. Did that mean the scale went to 100?!!? I felt like I could quickly lose control.

I decided I needed to move, so we began walking around the large circular corridor. It was during that first walk that I realized that I would either control this labor or it would control me. I realized that for me moaning was only making it feel like work. I felt that each moan was a complaint. They made me tense up and the pain was much worse. So instead I decided to start deliberately relaxing during each contraction.     (My mom had done a Bradley class with us and I found that it helped immensely. It was through the Bradley book that I had learned that it WAS possible to experience labor calmly.) So when the contractions would start I would breath slowly and repeat in my head, "You can do this. This is no problem. Just breath. Just breath. Good job. You can do this." Eventually I stopped just thinking this in my head and I started repeating it over and over in a low murmur. The unusual thing was, I found it very upsetting if anyone else tried to say these words to me. I was the only one going through it, so only I could tell myself it would be OK. This breathing and self-coaching gave me back my control during labor. I can't say I really felt any pain once I figured out my formula. It truly felt like I was riding a wave during each contraction. Over the next several hours it felt like we walked miles. When a contraction would start, I would stop, lean against Chris and rock while I talked myself through it. My mom or Bonnie would hold a lavender scented hot pack of rice hard against my back. Then it would ease off and we would resume our circuit.

I eventually felt the need to be in water. The hospital had said that they didn't have tubs in the room, but this wasn't entirely true. They had very, very shallow tubs that covered half of my belly if I laid down in it. Even though it wasn't a deep tub, it sufficed. I spent a long time in that tub, swishing back and forth, back and forth. My mom or Chris would hold the shower head on my belly, and I loved the feel and pressure of the warm water. Eventually the contractions got so intense that I didn't know if I could keep doing this. I threw up around this time and that's when I got excited, because I knew the self-doubt and the throwing up added up to transition! The end was in sight! Unfortunately after about and hour of this the midwife checked me and told me I was only at 7 centimeters. All those hours of labor and still only 7 centimeters? The next several hours were tough. I was stuck in transition and I could feel my body weakening. I knew that I couldn't go on at this pace indefinitely and as I got tired it became harder and harder to be in control of my pain. Around this time, David offered me an epidural and it shocked me that I considered it at all. I was determined to do it naturally, but I was so, so tired of the pain. I ultimately told him no, but when he told me he wanted to break my water I jumped at the chance. Once he did that things moved more quickly. I didn't have the energy to move much anymore, so I stayed in bed. I don't have very clear memories of any of it after that point. I remember that I didn't want Chris to be away from me for even a second. I remember my dad came in to see how I was, and I found it too distracting to have someone new in the room. I remember that David told me to try changing positions. He thought it would be helpful to lay on my side. Once I did that, within a few contractions I started feeling the need to push. I think Bonnie was holding my hand at that point. She told the nurse and the nurse ran to get David. He came in and did a quick check and told me I could start pushing!

By that point it was just about midnight. We realized that Luke would be born not on August 29th, like we had thought, but instead right on his due date, August 30. Once David announced I could push the whole room exploded with excitement. People appeared out of nowhere and the bed was surrounded. My mom, Chris and the nurse held my legs and David sat on the bed in front of me. (I hadn't intended to push in bed, but for me it was the most comfortable position. The room had a special bed designed just for birthing and it had a bunch of different configurations it could morph into. I loved that bed. At one point I tried pushing on my hands and knees and I hated it. It felt so much more painful.) When it came time for my first push I did it just like you see in the movies. I screwed up my face and I screamed! David said me that wasn't going to do anything and told me to concentrate on his voice. I closed my eyes and did exactly what he told me to do. He told me to hold my breath and push with all my might when a contraction hit. Then one very quick breath in and hold it again for another mighty push. I managed to get 2 pushes out of each contraction. All I remember about this time is peoples voices. David's telling me when to push and everyone else cheering me on. It was wonderful to feel so surrounded by love and support. When they saw his head you could hear Chris almost bursting from the excitement of it. They brought a large mirror in so I could see, but without my glasses I couldn't focus on a thing. Between pushes I thought I would pass out from exhaustion. I would let my head loll back and my whole body would go limp. Then the next wave would start. Finally he started to crown and I experienced what they called the ring of fire. His head came out not in one, but two pushes. There was most definitely no relaxing between those two contractions!! Once his head was out David told me to reach down and pull my baby out with my next push. That moment will always be one of the highlights of my life. I pushed and at the same time gently reached down and hooked my hands under my baby's arms. I have lifted my baby up a million times every day since, but I will never forget what it felt like the first time I did it. I put my baby on my chest and felt hands toweling him off and checking him, but all I could see was his little blueberry colored eyes blinking up at me. He was moving his mouth like a baby bird, so I did exactly what came naturally to both he and I. I put him right on my breast to nurse. We never had a problem with nursing. From the very beginning it was exactly what we wanted to be doing all the time. I know that eventually they cut the cord and weighed him and checked him, but all I could see was those big eyes looking at me while I cradled him. Even now I can see it like it just happened.

I found out later I had lost a good deal of blood, nothing dangerous, but enough that I was very woozy. There was stitching to be done, since I had torn a lot. I got to shower and I was moved to a new room where they tucked us all in for the night. Luke was placed in a bassinet by our bed, but I couldn't bear to be away from him so I slept that night with him tucked in right beside me. He had spent the last 9 months inside my body and I couldn't let him spend his first night away from me, the only familiar thing in his new world. I found out later it is against hospital policy for a baby to sleep with the mom, but the nurses never said a thing to me about it. They were all mothers too and must have understood that overwhelming need to be near your baby.

When we woke the next morning after only a few hours sleep. I stared at my baby and tried to memorize every bit of him. I couldn't quite believe that my baby was outside of me and so very beautiful.

Learning to change him that first morning.

It took me one year to the day to process Luke's birth. At first I was so disappointed that it hadn't been how I pictured it. Giving birth in a hospital was so different from what I had planned, but now looking back all I feel is satisfaction with the way things turned out. I had a healthy baby and was able to do it completely naturally. Ultimately what I remember about the birth are the people that I love surrounding me, pride that I was able to labor on my own terms, and the joy I felt when I held my son for the first time. In the end, I got exactly what I had hoped for.