I wanted to recap this for posterity's sake, from the first Booboo blog. Every woman is a warrior at birth, regardless of her story. This is my tale. (this story is kinda graphic for those unused to Birth. Proceed at your own risk!)
Birth of the Tough Cookie
So, October 4th my due date came and went without fanfare. I had an NST and they declared all was well, and sent me on home, without any todo. With my fibroids and Gestational Diabetes, there was always a chance that the hospital docs could one-up the midwives and decide that i must be induced. Not a fun proposition.
I was sure that my little bean would pop out over the weekend. My mom arrived from Seattle, and still--no Booboo.
At my next midwife appt the following week at 41, I had the midwives strip my membranes (ouch) and hope that that might speed things along. That afternoon, I felt some contractions that seemed like they might lead to something. They were definitely beyond Braxton hicks. I called the midwife, called the doula, who encouraged me to take it easy, but take a walk and see what happens. After a short walk around the block, contractions faded, and there was nothing. The words echoed from my midwife echoed in my mind, “this kind of thing could go on for weeks!” Weeks?? I was beginning to get pretty frustrated and lose my patience. We’re ready! When is this child going to be??
On Thursday, my official 41 week visit, the NST was still fine, and I seemed to be having minor contractions in the morning. By that evening, I called my doula, called the midwife, "I think this is it!" Both midwife and doula remarked how serene I seemed going thru contractions...(this should have been our first hint!) I for one, was struck by not how painful they were, but how exhausting, and I felt just. very. tired. My midwife checked my dialation, said I was at 7, we'd better head on over to the hospital, it was time! once we get to the hospital, I'm still laboring on the birth ball, still relatively quiet, and finally go thru a period of transition...throwing up, the shakes, the whole nine yards. i'm holding Mr. Tea, listening to the special labor mix he made for me on the ipod, just thinking "i'm just so tired," and then the body just shuts down. The contractions stop, my whole body just says "no." We're all a bit confused, since it seemed so close, but it's 2 in the morning at this point, and the midwife (i'll call her Jean) decides the best policy is to just sleep for a few hours, your body must just need a break, let's sleep, and see what's up in the morning. So, we sleep. Wendy, the doula, and my mom on chairs, Mr. Tea in the hospital bed next to me, I'm still attached to a million monitors, and wearing this giant corset which was supposed to help drop the baby down...strangest 3 hour sleep in my life.
In the morning we wake up, Jean has brought in reinforcements. (the other midwife) she checks my dilation, and I'm at 4cm. My heart falls. 4cm! how did this happen!! Apparently, her hand is a lot smaller than the Jean’s, and she is able to get her hand all the way back to my cervix, which was still high. Turns out, I was never at 7 to begin with. Jean had miscalculated that my cervix was very open, when really, it was just very back. Which very sucks.
The other midwife decides to put on the pressure a bit, and get me on a little pitocin, and see what happens.
so there i am, attached to the very machines i so wanted to avoid! blood pressure being monitored (luckily baby's heart beat is steady like a rock!) and still, the body is not responding. Contractions heat up for a minute, but when the midwife comes in to check, she says, "this is just not the kind of progress I want to see, and we have you on a pretty high dose of this stuff." Sure enough, she checks my dilation and I'm still at 4. So at this point she says, "OK, we can keep you on the pitocin, and if the body doesn't kick in (which I'd be surprised at this point if it did,) you're looking at an emergency C at 9:00 tonite." So the wise and wonderful Mr. Tea says, "Let's just go home. Obviously, today is not the day. Well, at 41 weeks to go home without baby? a tough call. The midwife says, "I totally respect that decision. Many couples wouldn't be able to do it, but if you can feel comfortable with that, by all means." Before she left, she checked my 4 cm. once again and stretched my cervix around a bit, (which hurt like serious HELL!) "That’s what I want you to be feeling, my dear." "oh! Well, I certainly hadn't been feeling that up to this point! Far from it! No wonder. So we head home, exhausted, disappointed, and babiless.
And so I slept. I slept and slept for a day and a half. I guess this labor thing was going to take some serious mojo, and I needed a lot more strength than I had had the other nite! At this point, every one is making jokes about why Miss C is taking so long--mom says , she'll pop out when she's 5, I say she’s waiting for the weather to break, (at this point in mid October we are having a serious Indian Summer, and it’s still humid as hell!) Mr. Tea, now obsessed with the Birthday Book, says she's waiting for a particular day's personality. we see them clicking by--the Day of the Penetrating Gaze, the Day of Gracious Ease, (my pick), the Day of Moderation...
and now it's Saturday morning, 10/13, otherwise known as the Day of the Tough Cookie! I've fully recovered from the hospital fiasco, made another acupuncture appt, and am willing to let the babe come out when she's good and ready. (At this point, I'm 9 days late.) As soon as I get off the table, I start having mini contractions. But they're mini, I've had this type before, and I'm just going to play it cool this time, and not get wrapped up with what's going on. It's a beautiful crisp fall day (finally) and mom and I are scouring the neighborhood yard sales...By 3:00 I'm happily ensconced on the couch and the contractions take a different turn, and start really hurting like serious hard-core menstrual cramps. "hmm," i say to myself, this is quite interesting. but I'm going to keep mum about it for now, and jsut see how things develop. I keep reading my book, send mom off to the Dollar Store (her new favorite place), and just keep breathing. Pretty soon, i realize. ok, this, my friends, is Labor, with a capital L. I have to stop reading my book in order to breathe thru the contractions, and by 5:30, i'm in the shower, calling my doula and my midwife, trying to relax through the contractions and convince them that this time was different!! "Oh, says the other midwife," sounds like you have a long way to go still, sweetie. try to rest, ok?" rest my ass! i don't think so! These puppies were real and starting to come fast. By the time Mr. Tea and the doula and Jean got to the house, I was in some serious pain. Jean kept wanting to check me, (feeling guilty about the other day) and I said, "NO! I know they're real and there’s no way in hell they’re not doing something!!" At this point, the formerly silent laborer, began issuing lots of moans and many cuss words as well, and they all nodded their heads, like, "ok, this is different!" Finally at 7:30, we declare time to head to the hospital. I knew I was likely to lose ground in the transport, but knew also we needed to make it in. I kept contacts and glasses off, hair was in my face, and just tried to stay in that primal place, across the bumpy cobblestone streets, stopping at way too many red lights, and Wendy rubbing my back, and talking me thru each contraction. Somehow, we made it to the hospital.
Luckily, registration was quick, since I had just been there 2 days before! Nevertheless, a crazy laboring, cussing moaning pregnant woman was not very welcome in registration. "you can take her out in the hall, sir!" They offered me a wheelchair, but at that point, i was starting to feel some serious pressure down there, and to sit was the last thing I wanted! so we'd walk a couple feet, I'd have a contraction, hold onto DH for dear life, cussing up a storm, (o fuck, o fuck, o fuck, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…) and we'd walk a little further. By the time I was in the labor room, the contractions were extremely intense, coming lickety split, and I had only a half an hour more of them. At this point, I could have sworn I heard Jean say, "oh, she's still at 4," and I almost lost it. But apparently, this was only in my head, because a minute later she said, ok, Teamarie. You can push!" My water broke on Mr. Tea's shoes, and after 1 hour and 45 minutes of pushing, "I can see her head!" our little Booboo was born! Jean said she will always think of her as the pirate baby, because she came out with one eye open, looking right at Mr. Tea!
So I put the little munchkin on my chest, we waited for the cord to stop pulsing, and Mr. Tea cut the cord! She took to nursing right away, cuddling up on my belly, and I was in awe and elated, and it was over, and I had my beautiful baby girl!
But it wasn’t. It seems Jean was having a devil of a time getting my placenta out. It was not sliding out of its own accord, and when she pulled on the cord, the thing just broke off. She called in the OB on call, who declared, "well, we can put her under for an hour, and I can just get in there, and make sure we get everything. (It was coming out in pieces at this point.) At which point I, delirious, crazy, brave or a whole lotta both said, "Put me under? NO Way. I am not going thru this entire experience drug free to be put under now. I am not missing that first hour with my baby, you've got to be kidding me." "are you sure? it is gonna hurt." "fine. just do it!" So, Mr. Tea has the baby, my mom's on one side, Wendy the doula on the other side of me, trying to keep me in my head, and not thinking about the scouring of my uterus going on down below! It hurt like a motherfucker, no doubt, but they were not going to take away that first hour with my baby! Finally, the OB was confident that they had gotten out all the pieces, and I was free to hold my little one again. apparently, no one does this kind of thing, because by the time i made it up to the maternity ward, all the nurses were talking about the crazy woman who wouldn't be put under... But they got it all, i got my little bean back, and if i had to do it again, i'd probably choose to do the same thing.
Now we're home, happily ensconced with lots of family members around for help. she's a beautiful beautiful girl. Her bit of hair surprised me, since both Mr. Tea and I were bald at birth, we'll see how the dark blue eyes change in the coming weeks--she could still be anything--the extra cooking did her no harm at all, she was 7lbs10 oz and 20 in. long---perfectly normal size. And best of all, she was born at 10:13 pm on 10/13! This tough cookie wanted her own timetable, (and for mommy and daddy to have a practice run at the hospital) before she was ready to make her appearance!
fin.
