Monday, June 23, 2014

Heidi's Birth Story - Part 2

See Part 1 of Heidi's Birth Story HERE!!

2:15 p.m. – We arrived at the hospital, checked in and were directed to triage.  (Basically, you are in a normal hospital room and just hang out there for a while before they take you to another normal room for labor and delivery.)  Over the course of the next hour, they asked me all these crazy questions, made me sign some paperwork, hooked me up to the belly monitors and put in my IV (which I could tell was not put in correctly.  I have had a jillion IVs in my life and I know when it’s not put in right.  Stupidly I didn’t say anything though.)  Then they checked to see how dilated I was.  2 cm.  THAT’S IT?!  Ugh.  I was afraid of that.  Well, then the nurse told me that she had then “stretched” me to 5 cm.  (You can do that??  Can you just stretch me to a 10 please??) Who knew.  Contractions had slowed down after we arrived at the hospital, because there are a lot of things happening and a lot of distractions.  I was laying down most of the time we were in triage, and it took a little while for contractions to pick back up again.

Triage!  Let's get this party started!
Sometime between 2:15 and 3:30 – My doula, Michelle arrived!  Contractions were coming about every 2 minutes at this point and I walked over to our labor and delivery room.  Fluid and blood is constantly flowing out of you and going all over the place, so I had to put underwear back on so I didn’t leak all over the new floors.  (I was joking with the nurses about this because the women's center had just moved to a brand new wing!)

Let's do this!

When I got to our labor and delivery room and they hooked me up to the monitors, I got the impression that they expected me to just lie in the bed.  I explained to the nurse that I preferred to walk through contractions and asked if they would allow me to be unhooked from the monitors.  She said I could do 20 minutes on the monitors and 30 minutes off, and when I was hooked up I could stand (there was enough room for me to pace back and forth a little bit too).  At some point, when the nurses came in to hook me up to the monitors, they asked if I wanted a birthing ball (think a large pilates/exercise ball).  YES!  I was pumped that they actually provided them there.  (I had thought about purchasing one myself but never actually went through with it.)  They brought in the ball and I sat down on it.  It was INSTANT relief.  Oh my gosh I felt so good sitting there just bouncing and rocking away.  It took a few minutes… but then I realized… the birthing ball was causing my contractions to stop!  I literally was not having any contractions.  Well crap.  So no more birthing ball.

4:45 p.m. – My mom, sister and Freddie arrived at the hospital.  Freddie stayed in the waiting room with the rest of the family while my mom and sister joined Ryan, Michelle and myself in labor and delivery.   I was still walking (and moaning) through contractions.

I don't really recall much between 5:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m., so the rest of the evening is a pretty big blur.  I think up until maybe 6:00 p.m. or so I still mostly felt like myself between contractions (although, I am completely guessing on the time.) At some point, I stopped being able to walk through contractions and was mostly just standing and swaying, or leaning over the bed.  You get in this weird zone.  Even between contractions, you're in this zone and you're focused.  I also tried getting on my knees on the bed and leaning over the birthing ball (which was also on the bed).  This made the contractions EXTREMELY intense, much more intense than when I was standing.  Eventually, the moaning turned into screaming.  Lots of screaming.  Loud and constant screaming.  Sometimes Alfred-Hitchcock-Psycho-bloody-murder style screams.  But that was my outlet.  It was the only way for me to deal with the pain.  Also, the nurse told me that because my water had broken so long ago, they would only check to see how dilated I was every 2 hours.  This was allegedly to try and avoid infection.  Allegedly.  I hated this.  I just wanted them to come and check me often so I would know if I was progressing!  Are we really concerned with introducing infection at this point?  I mean, don’t get me wrong I don’t want to put my baby at risk, but this thing IS coming out of me today!   It was SO frustrating every time the nurse came in a then said "see you in 2 hours"!  2 hours?! So I had no problem letting the nurses know when I was having an especially terrible contraction so they would at least come make sure I wasn't dying.

I was SO thirsty.  But you know the rules - no eating or drinking (except ice chips).  Ryan had asked the nurse if I could have water.  She said no but left to get some ice chips.  While she was gone we broke the rules.  I went over the the sink and gulped some water down.  Aaahh.  The nurse came back with the ice chips and left.  A few minutes later... I felt my (actual) stomach contracting.  and it hurt.  I knew I was about to throw up.  I told Ryan to grab a throw up bag.  Then I puked.  Hard.  Yay.  Throwing up is weird because it forces you to push, so in a strange way it kind of helps you out and feels like it helps things progress a little bit.  This may not be true but that's at least what it felt like.  Somehow, I managed to throw up a few more times. From then on out, I was afraid to put anything in my mouth because I was afraid it would make me throw up again!

There were a lot of relaxation things going on throughout the evening as well.  We played music, (started off with Pandora and then later moved to one of my favorite Hawaiian albums.  Towards the end of labor we just played ocean sounds, which I really liked.  It helped with relaxation between contractions as well as helped with the general flow and rhythm of the contractions themselves.) Michelle would push on my lower back to apply counter pressure during contractions.  She also sprayed rosewater throughout the room and had several essential oils that smelled so good.  I would take a deep breath, close my eyes, and she would hold them under my nose for me to smell.  (Frankincense is amazing.  Towards the end I really preferred a citrus-y oil that she had.)  I had also brought several 8 x 10 photos from Ryan and I's honeymoon in Kauai to focus my eyes on.  (I remember my mom telling me about this little clown that was hanging from something in the room when she delivered me.  She said she will always remember that little clown as she would stare at it through her contractions.  I was determined to bring my own "clown" so I would remember something I liked and not something like a creepy little clown hehe!)


One of the photos I brought to focus on - a secluded beach on Kauai where Ryan and I spent a lot of time during our honeymoon.

9:00 p.m. – I hit THE wall.  The wall I knew I would hit at some point, and the wall that I’m sure most women hit at some point during a natural birth.  I looked at Ryan and said I couldn’t do it.  I can’t continue.  Something needed to change.  I had been stuck at 5/6 centimeters for HOURS and it didn’t appear that anything was going to change any time soon.  I wanted SOMETHING.  I knew in my heart that I truly didn’t want this, and I definitely didn’t want an epidural, but there was a part of me that wanted something.  Something had to change.  After 15 hours of labor at this point, I just wanted it to end.   Ryan looked at me and told me all of the things that a loving husband says to his laboring wife.  Right as Ryan finished his pep talk, I felt another contraction beginning as a different nurse came in and told me she needed to draw my blood.  WHAT.  You have to be joking.  I didn’t hold back “expressing myself” during this next contraction.  Once that was over I held out my arm so she could stick me.

I am so grateful that Ryan did not listen to me when I requested some drugs.  It wasn’t even brought up to the nurse.  This was exactly how I wanted it to be.  Not even an option.  Thank you husband for supporting my decisions and knowing my heart so well.

I eventually began feeling the urge to push.  Not like, I HAD to yet… but I could feel myself wanting to.  I could feel my body starting that process.  I was then told to lie down on the bed to relieve some of the pressure on my cervix.  This would hopefully help me to progress and help my cervix thin out.  I laid on my side with one leg supported in a giant stirrup.  I was cold and shaky and didn’t want to stay lying down, but I was making progress.  Switched sides a while later…

10:30 p.m.   I was definitely ready to push.  I pretty much WAS pushing.  And screaming.  (It felt like I had to take the biggest poop of my life.)  The nurse came and checked me and told me that she had called the on-call doctor.  I calmly asked “Where IS the doctor?”  The nurse told me that she was at home, but that she only lived 10 minutes away.  Okay, cool.  She then told me that one side of my cervix was completely effaced (thinned out) but that the other side still had a centimeter or so to go, so I needed to roll over and lay back on my other side.  Lair.  I am 100% convinced that this was just an excuse to buy some time.  I was told not to push.  To continue laying on my side and hold the baby in.  Hold the baby IN?!  I cannot put into words what the next hour was like.  "Holding a baby in" is absolutely excruciating.  One thousand times more painful/intense/draining/terrible than the rest of the day combined.  It is impossible to NOT push.  The instinct is too strong.  I stopped listening.  And I stopped caring.  With each contraction I would at the same time push hard, while still trying to fight the urge to not push.  It wasn't really working though.  I was forcing air in and out of my lungs SO hard.  And screaming.  Mostly screaming.  I was laying on my side, pooping some and peeing all over the place with the force of each contraction (somewhat involuntarily) and I didn’t even care.  I could actually feel the baby's head with each contraction.  Between the contractions, I would fall asleep.  I can remember how good it felt to doze off… and then I could feel myself snap out of it, as my eyes would roll back around to the front of my head.  I would try to convince myself that a contraction wasn’t coming and that I could go back to sleep, but there was no way around it.  The nurse told me not to roll over on my back because if I did we would have the baby.

11:15 p.m.  The nurse came back in.  I asked where the doctor was.  The nurse told me that she had called the doctor and she was on her way and that it had only been a few minutes since she had done so.  I pointed to the clock on the wall that I had been staring at since 10:30 p.m.  I said “no it’s been 45 minutes”.  The nurse said maybe they should think about taking that clock down.   (According to my mom, at some point between screams a couple of nurses looked at each other and were asking if anyone knew how far away the doctor was.  They knew this baby wasn’t going to wait much longer!!)  I was told to roll onto my back and do a “practice push”.  I think my practice push was a little too ambitious.  She told me to stop.  Then more nurses came into the room and started to get things set up.  It felt SO good seeing some action… knowing we were nearing the finish line!!

11:30 p.m. – The doctor finally appeared!!  Oh my goodness.  The big spotlights in the ceiling came on and everyone took their positions.  Laying on my back felt so different that the other positions I had labored in, so I felt like I couldn’t tell when the contractions were coming on.  Between each contraction, I told the nurse to tell me when a contraction was coming because I couldn’t tell when to push (haha).  I would ask the nurse, "Is it time? Is it coming?"  Then before she could even answer I would look at her and look at the doctor, nod and say "OKAY!".  With each contraction I would get 2 (maybe 3) good pushes in.  (Pushing so hard my contact popped right off of my eyeball!)  At first it was hard for me not to scream while pushing, but screaming is bad because you let the air out of your lungs.  (Again, screaming was my only outlet.  I had to vocalize my energy and pain.)  Michelle suggested that rather than screaming, I should let out a long low grunt.  Best advice I have ever received!  This seemed to help tremendously.  I was still able to express myself and work through the pain, but keep enough air in my lungs to effectively push.   

I have heard that some women request a mirror, so they can see what’s going on.  I have always felt like SEEING what was going on down there would only make it worse.  NO thanky.  Gross.  However…  I could see the reflection in a panel on the ceiling.  It was enough to see what was going on… but not TOO much.  It was like watching a black and white version, which made it much more tolerable.  And it was actually really cool.  I know that sounds crazy.  But there is a CHANCE I will request a mirror next time around.  Being able to see what was happening did not make it worse, but seeing the progress seemed to help.  It was motivation.  Although, I do wish that they made black and white mirrors because that still sounds slightly more appealing…

Back to pushing.  Pretty quickly, in the reflection in the ceiling, I could see the top of Heidi’s head.  I could also see the doctor running her finger around the entire..uuhh opening, from one side down and around to the other side, between me and the baby’s head.  After doing this a few times between contractions, the doctor told me that I wasn't going to stretch any more.  Episiotomy time.  The numbing injection felt exactly what you would expect it to feel like, and I did clench my jaw and grunt through the pain of that.  However, imagine someone punching you in the face while at the same time pinching the back of your arm.  Chances are, you aren't REALLY going to notice the arm pinching.  That’s basically what the injection felt like.  I don’t recall feeling anything when she actually made the incision.  Initially, I was very against having an episiotomy.  However, while creating our birth plan I decided that this was something we just needed to let the doctor decide on, in the moment.  I am so glad that we trusted her judgment on this and my opinion on episiotomies has drastically changed!  Pushing takes every ounce of energy in your body and you use every bone and every muscle that you have in your entire body.  I can't imagine pushing for any longer than I did.  I don't know how women are physically able to push for longer than 30 minutes.  Also, knowing that the baby had been pushing and stretching me while I was "holding her in", I trusted that my body had already had time to stretch as much as it could.  I am grateful for the episiotomy.

11:52 p.m. – 7th contraction since I had started pushing.   I could see my baby’s head.  I felt the contracting coming on and DECIDED this would be the last one.  I was ready.  I was ready to be done with this and meet my little girl.  So I got 5 pushes out of this contraction (I may not have even been having a contraction by the 5th push).  5 pushes.  One contraction.  And one beautiful baby girl.  In one instant, nothing else matters.  I don’t feel pain.  I am no longer in this strange mental zone I have been in for the last 6+ hours.  I feel like myself again.  And there is a soft, warm, squishy, slimy, beautiful, tiny little life placed on my chest.  To feel her come out of me was the best feeling ever.  So much relief.  But to feel her soft warm body on mine was even better. 


The best.

After delivery, they stitched me up, cleaned me up and took the baby to get her vitals and clean her up as well.  I can remember hearing them announce her weight:  a perfect little 7 pounds and 13 ounces.  I was so surprised!  I had gained over 40 pounds and was SURE she was going to be at least 8 or 9 pounds!  She was the perfect little size.  I also could not believe it when my sister told me that the whole family was still in the waiting room!  (By now it was around 1:00 a.m!)  They took turns coming back to meet precious Heidi, and it was so special to share those moments with them.

A little post-delivery Mama drama...Once all of the family had left, I was told I needed to pee before they would let me move to our recovery room.  I made my way to the bathroom.  Nothing happened.  (I have had multiple major abdominal surgeries, so I know that it takes a while for things to wake up down there!) I told the nurse that I had peed all over the place during labor and that I didn't have to go.  I had also just chugged a WHOLE bunch of liquids and they hadn't made their way through yet.  She told me to keep trying.  VERY suddenly, I started feeling dizzy.  I lost my vision and hearing in my right ear.  I grabbed onto the metal bar next to the toilet. (I've donated blood on an empty stomach before - I knew what was about to happen.) "I'm going to pass out" I said.  Ryan and the nurse helped me sit down in a rolly chair and wheeled me back to bed, hoping to try again a little bit later.  I was SO out of breath, light headed, dizzy, cold, sweaty.  I could tell that my blood pressure was extremely low.   About 30 minutes later, we tried again.  I felt sick.  I was able to pee and to me it felt like my bladder was empty.  The nurse had me stand up because I needed to change my "underwear" (mesh panties and a super jumbo maxi pad).  Blood was pouring out of me.  Pooling under my feet.  Running through the grout between the tiles and spreading through the bathroom. I asked the nurse if that was a normal amount (obviously extreme blood loss is expected in this situation).  She said it was a little more than normal and she was going to go get the charge nurse to come take a look at me.  The charge nurse came in a mashed on my belly (they do that a lot after delivery and it feels TERRIBLE).  She told me that my bladder was full and it was preventing my uterus from contracting appropriately, which was somehow affecting the blood loss as well.  She said "okay you're not going to like me but I'm going to have to put a catheter in."  WHAT?!  There is absolutely NO WAY.  No WAY was I going to let that happen after what just went on down there.  I asked her if there was ANY way possible they could give me one more chance before doing something that drastic.  She agreed.  Apparently there is some "magic" potion that they use that allegedly works every time when they need to get someone to pee.  An orange juice and 2 sugars... or something like that.  (I had also just chugged like, 2 bottles of water, gatorade and apple juice 30 minutes prior.)  Well, I drank the magic potion and 30 minutes later I was finally able to empty my bladder.  Goodness.  Talk about an ordeal.  They were then able to bathe the baby and move us to recovery (by now it was 4 or 5 a.m.)  I was so grateful to FINALLY be in recovery and although, we didn't get much rest, Ryan and I were able to spend our first few hours together as a new little family of three.

Heidi's birth was perfect in every way and I wouldn't change a thing about it.  I thank God for our experience and I know that HE gave me the strength to give birth naturally and exactly the way I wanted to.  We are so grateful to have a happy healthy tiny angel baby and are thrilled that she is finally here.  Although, I DO want to wait a while before doing this again, I look forward to the next time God allows us to bring another tiny little life into the world.  It truly is the most insane and wonderful experience.  

Heidi Rose's Birth Story - Part 1

"When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world."  John 16:21




Disclaimer:  This is a BIRTH story.  Yes, there will be talk about BIRTHING, blood, amniotic fluid, poop, episiotomies and the like…but I was so curious about all of this before going through it so I want to share!  I am also recording this while it is still fresh in my own mind, so that I can always remember this experience for myself.  If you are grossed out easily or bothered by someone sharing TMI - DO NOT read this!   

Why I chose to have a natural birth: 

When I first found out I was pregnant (well… even before that) I knew that I wanted to seriously consider having a natural birth.  Why you ask?  This sounds crazy… but I WANTED to feel.  I wanted to feel my baby come out of me.  I didn’t want to be numb, paralyzed from the waist down.  I didn’t want to spend hours just lying in a hospital bed.  I wanted to be able to walk through contractions and let gravity help me out.  I wanted to be an active participant in my own labor.  I wanted to be able to listen to my body…to know and feel the instinct to push and not wait until a machine or a nurse told me to push.  I didn’t want any sort of drug intervention.  I realize that epidurals pose no risk to the baby, but I wanted to ensure that there were no drugs in my body or my baby’s.  I wanted God to be in control and nature to take it’s course in a non-medical intervention-y way.  (Please note that this is why a natural birth was right for ME.  I am not saying that there is anything wrong with not going natural, or that my way is better than your way… but simply that this way was the best way for me.)  Natural birth was the plan.  I do realize that sometimes our plans go out the window and we have to prepare ourselves in case that happens.  I cannot stress how important it is (and how grateful I am) to have a husband who supported my decision and shared these same thoughts with me.  I knew that we would both do everything in our power to stick to the plan.  That being said... buckle up, get comfortable (this is a long one) and here we go!

Monday, May 19, 2014 (4 days before my due date)

I went to the grocery store to stock up on all of our essentials so we wouldn’t have to worry about it after the baby was here (toilet paper, shampoo, bottled water, some food items that wouldn’t go bad too quickly, etc.).  I can remember multiple times during my shopping trip thinking “Okay this is pretty painful” and knowing that because I was so uncomfortable that I wouldn’t be able to do much (or anything really) outside of the house anymore.  Looking back, I do think it was possible that I was having mild contractions or at the very least my body was really starting to warm up at this point.  I wasn’t feeling very well that evening (DUH I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together!  We learned at our child birth education class that your body naturally will try to get rid of everything that it doesn’t need to deliver a baby – so intestinal issues are a sign that labor could be imminent and I KNEW this.)  Somehow I totally didn’t even think about it… Went to bed that evening completely oblivious to what I would be doing 24 hours from then…

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

3:30 a.m. – I woke up to pee.   While I was in the bathroom, I could feel what honestly felt like my bladder contracting once it had emptied.  Maybe you know the feeling… when you empty your very full bladder really really fast especially when you are still half asleep how it kind of hurts almost?  I didn’t think anything of it and just chalked it up to being not fully awake.

4:30 a.m. – Woke up to pee again (this was not unusual at this point).  Same “bladder” discomfort.  By now I seriously thought I had a bladder infection.  I had a dr. appointment scheduled for the following day (Wednesday) and was thinking about calling the office once it had opened to see if I could get in a day earlier to get everything checked out.  Even if it didn’t turn out to be a bladder infection, I still wanted to see if I could get in just to make sure everything was okay.

5:15 a.m. – I can’t remember if I was lying in bed or peeing but I felt the same weird bladder-ish contracting pain.  (You have to remember, my uterus was not down there anymore!  It was weird to feel pain where my bladder was!) 

5:45 a.m. – More weird cramps (I hesitate to call them cramps because it really still felt more like my bladder was freaking out and less like menstrual cramps.)  Ryan was awake by this point and I told him that I was “feeling weird”.  I explained to him that I thought I might have a bladder infection.  He asked me if I thought he should go to work.  I said “Yeah you might as well go ahead and go because if you stay this will probably just turn into nothing.”  He (luckily) chose not to listen to me and decided to stay home because I was not feeling right.

6:10 a.m. – Ryan and I are both lying in bed awake.  I let out a huge GASP.  Ryan turned on the light and said “What’s wrong?!” faster than I had ever seen.  “Something just came out of me!!”  I said.  “I think my water just broke. I need you to go get a towel.”   I held the towel on myself diaper style and waddled to the toilet, expecting “water” to start gushing out of me.   When I sat down, it was just a tiny trickle (clear luckily.  If it’s green that’s bad because it means the baby has already pooped in there which you do not want!)  This slow trickle/small tiny gushes continued throughout the entire day.  Turns out (which I learned later) that I had a “high tear”… meaning that rather than breaking low where the baby's head is near the cervix, the amniotic sac had torn high up, so the fluid was not able to rush out in huge gushes but rather leak out slowly from up top.  Not gonna lie… kind of grateful for that.  I managed to keep the carpet, the passenger seat of the car, my clothes and much more clean.

At this point, I was still hesitant to text my mom, sister and doula because I was worried if I told them that everyone would start freaking out and then it would turn out to be a false alarm.  However, not too long after my water broke, the (I guess we can call them contractions at this point) contractions started feeling different.  It started feeling like I was really constipated and just needed to go to the bathroom.  Things were still such a jumbled mess and totally irregular, we decided to go for a walk to see if we could regulate the contractions a bit and figure out what exactly was happening.

6:45 a.m. - Texted my mom, sister and my doula, Michelle. 

I wanted them to be ready, but not TOO ready!
Super scary early morning picture - so tired!

I somehow managed to squat down for a picture with Hazel - who was not enthused. 

Once we got home from our walk, I took the last belly picture (see here!) showered, got some stuff ready and just hung out between contractions.  (Funny how at this point, you still feel fine between contractions!)  I would recline in the love seat that we have in our living room (it was too uncomfortable on my butt to sit normally - it's amazing how much you feel contractions in your rectum.  It just feels like intense pressure right inside your butt!!)  When I would feel a contraction coming on (always felt it in my butt first) Ryan would help me up and I would take a lap around our downstairs while he timed it.  I always thought that the time between contractions would go like this: 10 minutes - 10 minutes - 10 minutes - 9 minutes - 9 minutes - 9 minutes and so on... but it was such a mess for so long!  And sometimes the contractions would be so light it was hard to tell when the actually started and when they ended... but other times there was a very obvious start and stop.  Every now and then a really strong one would come... and then go back to what it was before.  SO inconsistent.  So when I look back at the app Ryan used to track the contractions it's more like this:  12 minutes - 6 minutes - 8 minutes - 15 minutes - 8 minutes - 9 minutes, and the amount of time they lasted was all over the place too.  Eventually the AVERAGE time between contractions got closer together... and I think they somewhat leveled out around 5 or 6 minutes apart and started being a little more predictable.  (I highly recommend the app "Full Term" for timing contractions.  I'm sure there are plenty of other apps out there for that - but we thought this one was perfect!)

Around 11 or 12ish - We (Ryan) had a few moments of panic when it seemed that my contractions all of the sudden got very close together.  We started rushing around getting our stuff together and Ryan insisted that we call the doctor, which proved to be completely pointless.  They didn't even ask any questions just said "oh well you should probably start heading this way." GEE THANKS.  I really didn't want to get to the hospital too early, (and we both knew that they probably just say that to everyone who calls no matter what...) plus I really wanted to make sure I got a good meal in because once you get to the hospital they don't let you eat or drink anything.  Boo!  So we knew we had a few more hours before things got serious, and we were still several hours away until rush hour which we were also trying to avoid... so we got in the car and went to Firehouse subs.  I got my favorite - Turkey Bacon Ranch... which I later threw up.  Multiple times.  Yummy. Should have picked something... less.... peppercorn ranch-y.  

Last meal before Baby Heidi!

1:30 p.m. (ish) - We finished lunch (which at this point was pretty difficult for me to do - I couldn't sit but was getting tired of standing, plus this huge gut really gets in the way sometimes!) got our stuff together, loaded the car and made our way to the hospital.  

On the way to the hospital!

See you soon Little Heidi!  See what happened once we got to the hospital in Heidi's Birth Story - Part 2!