Nothing about going into labor happened how I thought it would. Labor was also a great lesson in letting go of preconceived notions and plans, and just going with the flow, so to speak. First of all, we still had another week until my due date. Secondly, my water broke, and, while Hollywood would have all of us believe that every woman's water breaks in this incredibly dramatic fashion, my doctor and midwife drilled into me from the get-go that only like 10% of women actually have their water break as their first sign of labor, and that I would head to the hospital once my contractions had been about 3 minutes apart for well over 2 hours. Those were my marching orders, and Harris and I had all kinds of plans of walking it out at the mall, climbing the stairs in our building, so on and so forth.
Friday, January 30th, was a very normal Friday for me. I got up and ran my errands and then came home to do a very slow, very minimal (let's be real) house clean. I even stopped to get gas that day, and texted Harris to say "you should be so proud of me - I got gas and we had more than 1/4 of a tank left!". Perhaps my sub-conscious knew something I didn't. Later in the day, Harris sent me a text that said that we should go play skeeball at Dave & Buster's when I went into labor. We had big labor plans, I tell you, and Harris was completely convinced we were at least making it to our due date, which was February 8th, and I think part of him wasn't really expecting her to show up until closer to Valentine's Day. I didn't really share it with anyone because I didn't want anyone to get their hopes up, but I really thought it would be sometime that next week before our due date, and had placed my own bets on her birthday being February 3rd.
He immediately jumped into action. He had me call our midwife, who told us to labor at home as long as we could (I was Group B Strep negative, so we didn't have to rush in right away even with my water breaking), and then call her when we felt like we were ready. We then texted our Lucy-sitter to let her know that she would need to come pick up Lucy the next morning. He went downstairs to bring our car around so it would be at the ready, and call our Moms. I got up and randomly decided to do a load of laundry and called Erica. It took about an hour or so after my water broke for me to start feeling any kind of real, albeit mild, contractions. During this time, I took a shower, made myself as presentable as I could, tried to sleep (but failed miserably!), watched some late night TV, caught the end of Anchorman, and bounced on my birthing ball. Around 3am, we were all in the living room - Lucy laying on a blanket, wondering what in the world we were all doing up at such an hour, Harris sitting in a chair giving lots of positive reinforcement, and me bouncing on a big blue ball. Harris decided it was time for some music, and decided that kicking things off with Jimmy Buffett's Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw would be a fitting tribute to our current situation. A sense of humor that hubby of mine has, I tell you.
My water breaking presented a bit of a dilemma that I had not prepared myself for. We were aiming to have a natural labor and delivery experience. In order to do that, though, I knew it was crucial to keep myself moving as much as possible to, hopefully, help labor progress. However, every time I would stand up or take a step, more water would trickle (or gush, depending on how it was feeling at the moment, I suppose). Also, given the fact that my water broke late at night, we didn't really have many options for getting out and about. Around 5am, or just over six hours into labor, we decided to call our midwife again for more direction. She agreed that we should go ahead and come in so we could assess how things were going. With that, we got Lucy set up in the bathroom (her babysitter was going to come pick her up around 7am), grabbed our remaining hospital items, laid a thick towel on my car seat, and made our way to the hospital.
Being a Saturday around 5:30am, there was absolutely no traffic, and it was a breezy drive to the hospital. Because the maternity ward doors don't officially open until 6am, we had to check in through the emergency room. Harris pulled the car right up to the door, and walked in with me, and then went to park the car while the nurses got my vitals. One of the nurses mentioned that I was the fifth laboring mom to show up that night! She said it was because of the change in weather pressure that had occurred the day before. I don't know how true that is, but there you have it. After getting my vitals, and Harris getting back in, I was then wheeled up to the maternity ward. The funniest part of my day: when we got to our room, one of the ER nurses who came up with us offered me a bag for my wet clothes. I looked her dead in the eye and said, "oh I'm fine. My clothes aren't wet". To which she cocked her eyebrow and looked at me like I was crazy as I was basically sitting in a puddle. Guess after that many hours, I was just used to it!
After that, our first nurse came in and got me hooked up to the machines to do a baseline monitoring of little miss and me. Our midwife showed up shortly thereafter, and said that everything was looking good on the monitor. She checked my cervix then, and I was only dilated to a two, but she manually dilated me to a three. I didn't even know that was a thing, but apparently it is! At that point, she told us to get moving! Because my water had broken, and there was trace amounts of meconium in my fluid (meaning the little one had decided to go ahead and have her first bowel movement while still in the womb), I was being given a deadline of noon to have made progress before we started discussing alternative options. Nothing like a deadline or goal to motivate a laboring mom, so we set off. We made many laps around the maternity ward, I got in the shower, and bounced on the ball. Once an hour, we would stop so I could get hooked back up to the monitors for about fifteen minutes and check in on little one's heartbeat and my contractions.
That whole morning was great, fantastic even! I was a little tired just from being up all night, but my contractions weren't too strong, and we were having fun. I have to sidetrack for a moment and just say that Harris was beyond amazing, from start to finish, in the whole experience. I could not have asked for a more supportive and attentive person to have by my side. I told him during and after that I could not have done it without him, and I mean that even more now.
Right before lunchtime, my contractions really started picking up in intensity. It must have been about 11 when they were really getting stronger because my Mom and sisters made it to the hospital around 11:30, and I told Harris that I wasn't ready to see anyone just then (sorry guys!). He went out to see them, and then came back in to help me through the next round of contractions. I am not too sure of the exact timing of things (other than a few key things), but it would have been right about noon when I got out of the shower for the last time, and, at that point, I really just didn't have it in me to stand or walk around at that point, so Harris and our nurses encouraged me to take a rest in bed. Shortly thereafter, maybe around 12:30, my midwife came back to check my progress, and I was at a five.
While everyone else was pleased with this progress (at least pleased enough to not start talking about things like pitocin), I had really hoped I would be further along at that point. The contractions continued to intensify, and I started hitting a mental block. Harris kept coaching me through, reminding me to breathe and relax as much as I could. Our nurse kept trying to get me to focus on something besides the pain (I kept counting to the number 8 over and over again in my mind...and maybe a little out loud...kind of like in a dance class with the same staccato counting that my dance teachers would use). Mentally, though, I kept coming back to "this really hurts!" and "I'm only halfway there!". My midwife came back in around 2:30, and said that she thought it was time for us to start considering an epidural. While part of me was absolutely relieved that someone had finally uttered those words, the part of me that really wanted to do it naturally didn't want to give in. I was convinced, in that moment, at least, that getting the epidural would slow me down and result in a c-section (because of the time limit created by my water breaking). My midwife took my hands and told me that she wasn't going to let me have a c-section, but that I needed to get some rest, and that she truly believed we wouldn't be having this conversation if I hadn't already been in labor for 16 hours already. Now, I can't honestly tell you whether we would have, or not, but it did empower me in some strange way. I finally asked for the epidural, and after I asked for it, it couldn't have been administered fast enough!
Because I had been up and moving around all morning, I had not received any IV fluids, and apparently they like for you to have a couple bags of fluid in your system before you get the epidural, so they hooked me up, and bless their souls, they got that fluid in my system as fast as they possibly could. The anesthesiologist came in (and then left! But came back) and got me set up to get the epidural. I never saw the needle, and completely forgot about how big people always talk about it being (Harris reminded me later!), and I couldn't have cared less about having to sit still during a contraction. I think I would have stood on my head (or at least attempted to) if they had required me to do so, at that point!
Thankfully, blissfully, the epidural took effect almost immediately. My first contraction after getting it was noticeably better, the next five progressively got better, and after that, I didn't feel another contraction, only pressure. Also, thankfully, I could still completely feel the lower half of my body, just in a kind of pins and needles sensation. Apparently I got super happy after getting the epidural - I remember Harris laughing at me a good bit! I also got in a little nap!
A couple hours later, after having been instructed to let my nurse know if I felt like I needed to have a bowel movement (because that's what having a baby apparently feels like), I metaphorically rang the bell, and told her that I was feeling a lot of pressure. I don't think they were expecting much, but I was insistent, and, lo and behold, I was fully dilated! Of course, at that particular moment in time, my midwife was finishing up a delivery next door, so I held tight for a few minutes! My midwife came in and said that she was going to get ready and would be back in just a few minutes, and told my nurse to have me do a practice push before she got back. So, our sweet nurse got us ready for that, we assumed the position, and then she said, "Ummm...no, let's not do a practice push because I see hair!"
Sure enough, little one was right there. Our midwife made it back to the room, and the nurse informed her that we had not done a practice push because of the hair situation. From there on out, it all happened pretty quickly. Our midwife got suited up, and a few extra people appeared in the room from the nursery - they would be checking little miss out shortly after birth due to the meconium in my fluid to make sure that she had not swallowed any of it. Harris was holding one of my legs while our sweet nurse held the other one. I was instructed to push on my next contraction, and even though I couldn't feel my contractions, I knew when it was time to push - so much so that they really doubted me the first couple times! The first push was...weird. I don't think there is really any other way to describe it. Pushing was not something I had received any kind of preparation for, so I really didn't feel like I knew what I was doing. Thankfully, I got the hang of it pretty quickly! Between pushes, my midwife and nurse joked about how she had so much hair they could go ahead and put a ponytail in for us if we liked! I really didn't rest too much between pushes, and, to be honest, I don't know that I was only pushing during contractions, despite their best efforts to get me to do so. I really just knew that I needed to push and no one could convince me otherwise. I felt everything when it came to pushing her out, and it honestly was kind of amazing - it was probably my favorite part of my laboring experience. During one of the pauses, my midwife asked if I would like to feel the baby's head. I made a face and at first said no - not because I didn't want to feel her head, but I really didn't want to feel anything that was going on down there for me! All in all, it was a pretty easygoing period of time for us. I felt her crown and my determination increased tenfold. I kept saying, "I just want to push!", and, after less than 30 minutes of pushing, our little girl made her way into the world!
They immediately placed her skin to skin, and handed Harris scissors to cut the umbilical cord, which he did with gusto! Because she cried immediately, the pediatric team didn't end up having to examine her right away - apparently, and my memory of this is a bit fuzzy, if she'd had meconium in her lungs she wouldn't have cried right away, or something. I was in complete shock and awe of the tiny human laying on my chest. She was just so perfect! I didn't actually do the cursory counting of fingers and toes, but Harris admitted later that he did. I just kept gazing at her, and whispered "Happy Birthday" and "I love you". With her first cry, and for most of them for at least the first several weeks, she had what we affectionately refer to as "quivery lip" where her little lower lip would quiver during her cry. She still does it sometimes, and it is absolutely the cutest little thing!
We were so caught up in our little girl and loving on her that I have absolutely no memory of actually delivering the placenta - I just know our midwife held it up to show it to us after the fact. We immediately tried to breastfeed, and, thankfully, she was a pro (and a voracious sucker) from the get-go. She had a really good nursing session right after birth, and then they finally took her over to clean her up and weigh and measure her. I could see most of that from my bed, but Harris was able to go over and help them get her situated. He was such a hands-on Dad from the get-go! She wasn't a huge fan of some of the routine stuff, like getting her temperature taken - how dare they put a thermometer under her arm! - but she definitely loved any and all snuggles and attention!
After she and I were both cleaned up, we spent a good maybe two hours just the three of us (well the three of us plus the hospital staff that was in and out), and it was such magical time spent bonding and loving on our little girl. After that, our parents and my sisters took turns coming in to visit, and then, a little later that night, Harris got to give her her first bath, which was so special.
Harris remarked a couple days afterwards that when I was asked about birth, I would say something to the effect of "It was great! There was a bad spot, and then I got the epidural, and it was great again!". For him, that "bad spot" was exceptionally hard. He said it is so difficult to see someone you love be in that kind of pain and not be able to do anything about it. While I do acknowledge that there was a rough patch during labor, I really couldn't tell you about the pain now. I know it is an evolutionary defense mechanism that helps us to forget, but I really and truly don't remember the specifics of that part of labor. I remember all the good, all the laughs, and all the magic of holding our daughter in my arms for the very first time. It seems impossible that this all happened two months ago, and, yet, at the same time, it seems improbable that she hasn't been here with us all along.

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