Saturday, August 10, 2013

Noah's Birth Story

It's about time I shared Bug's birth story! The above pictures are my pregnancy, 13 weeks, 22 weeks, 30 weeks, 36 weeks, and then 40 weeks and one day while I was in labor, the day before he was born.

Noah was two days "overdue." I'd gone into labor two times previously, though not "real" labor - just contracting with the snowstorms that passed through. This time was different, my contractions were regular and were slowly but surely increasing in intensity and frequency. They were very manageable in the beginning. I passed the time folding clothes, sterilizing bottles and pacifiers, finishing laundry, getting done everything that needed to be done. I played Monopoly, I made quite a few cups of tea and I watched some cheesy movies and played more Just Dance (it was actually during Rasputin that the contractions originally started coming! the movement felt good with the contractions). At one point I remember going upstairs to get something and stopping dead in my tracks with a god-awful contraction that made me drop to my knees and grip the railing for dear life, haha. Things really picked up after that. I called my midwife and told her that this time, I think I'm really in labor. She told me to call her when they were regularly 7-8 minutes apart and that she was getting ready. I made some more tea and tried to relax on the couch. Nope. Bad idea. The lack of movement was killing me! I got up and waddled through my house, back and forth, from the bathroom to the mudroom, back again. Finally I couldn't handle it and got in the shower. I immediately felt a hundred times better! I stayed in the shower a while, and my contractions seemed like they were fading. They didn't hurt so bad, they really seemed to have calmed down. I was in my rest period and I didn't know there was a rest period... so I called my midwife back, I told her they'd pretty much stopped and that this wasn't it. She asked if I was sure, and I really thought it wasn't real labor anymore, so I convinced her it was just contractions with the storm and not to worry about coming. The roads were closed due to the blizzard anyway, so I didn't want to put her in danger for what probably wasn't even real labor. Soon after, the contractions started to pick up again. I couldn't find where I'd put my phone for the life of me. I walked through the house looking for it, stopping with my contractions to lean on the windowsill or the countertops to sway my hips through the contractions. I realized I really, really had to pee, so I waddled back to the bathroom and went. As I was walking out of the bathroom I had another contraction that made me drop to my knees. I grabbed the tub and moaned through the contraction, heard/felt a small *pop* and then a gush of water.
"Did I really just piss myself? Seriously? What the fuck?!" 

I checked my panties and there was a lot of clear fluid, it smelled sweet like amniotic fluid does, not harsh like urine. I realized it couldn't have been pee anyway because I had just gone. I was living with my mom and so I knocked on her door and told her my water broke. That woman jumped over my stepdad like her ass was on fire! 
"Are you sure it was your water?!"
"Well it wasn't pee, wanna smell it?" 
My comment made me laugh, my laughter made me hurt. She said she was going to call an ambulance. I tried to talk her out of it, but looked out the window and you couldn't even see the house across the street through the snow. There was no way my midwife would be able to get to me. I started crying but I gave her the okay to call. I calmed myself down and tried to enjoy my last few "peaceful" moments of labor. I knew how beautiful and magical all that was happening was. These were my last precious moments with my baby on the inside. This was a beautiful time for us and I really appreciated it, and I wanted to continue to appreciate it without strangers surrounding me and interrupting this special time. Fifteen minutes later, a knock on the door, three EMTs rush in with an officer like this was some bizarre medical emergency. 
"I'm having a baby, I'm not bleeding out. Calm down, guys." 
They told me to lay on the floor so they could check how dilated I was. 9cm - "Have her start pushing!" I'm thinking, do these people know nothing? You don't start pushing at 9cm... not until at least 10cm and not until your body tells you you're ready. My body was made for this, it knows what to do without your seemingly little knowledge on the subject. I pretended to push so they'd shut up. They had the officer "support" me so I wasn't flat on my back, her knee was in my spine and I asked her to move and she told me no. By now I was significantly angered by the chaos and harsh interruption of mine and Noah's special time. 
"Listen lady, get the fuck off of me or I'm gonna elbow you in the fucking face." 
She moved without hesitation. I asked the EMTs if they could move so I could at least see the TV. They ignored me.
"Alright, you have two options. We can let you deliver here, in your home, but we'll bring you directly to the hospital afterward. Or we can bring you now. Oh, I've never delivered a baby.
Obviously you haven't. 
I didn't know at the time I could refuse to go to the hospital after having him, and I saw how bad the roads were, so I chose to go while he was still inside me rather than bouncing him around the ambulance. We get there and I tell the doctor, "I need to push." She tells me I can't because I'm not ready. I have no control over this, I didn't just decide it was time, my body knew it was time and it did it's thing. I pushed, she checked me after and says "Oh, my bad, you're 10cm, go ahead." 
No shit Sherlock, right now I feel like none of you have a damn clue how to do your jobs. 
I pushed again. 
"We're gonna need to do an emergency C-section." 
I ask why, she tells me I've been pushing for too long. I told her to fuck off, I've been here for 3 minutes and pushed twice. During my next push she says "Fine then we need to use forceps or a vacuum." after that push I tell her, 
"Look, you can fuck off. You're not intervening." 
She tells me I don't know how to push. 
"Watch me." 
One more push, head is out. Smirk. Push out the rest of his body, 
"What was that? I don't know how to push?" 
She had cut me while I was pushing against my wishes and after I pushed my placenta out I got a nice bunch of stitches. I wasn't allowed to nurse him for nearly an hour, but holding him for that first time, bloody, covered in vernix and peeing on me - it was still the most beautiful, emotional, happy and joyous time of my life.

Twenty eight and a half hours from the start of labor, and two days "late" my baby boy finally arrived earthbound. 21.5in long, 7 lbs 6.2oz of perfection, on January 27th, 2011, and best of all he came into the world all natural, with no interventions aside from the unwanted episiotomy. It was the proudest moment of my life. 

And there's my bubba, about an hour old in the first picture and two and a half years later in the second, wearing his big brother shirt. :)

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