I was contemplating whether or not I should post this on my Instagram but as I was typing on my iPhone, insecurity came over me (thinking: "this is way too long a post!") and I remembered I actually had one of these things. I am so awful at blogging/keeping a journal. The whole purpose I started this blog was to create a keepsake for my family. Something to look back on when Kyle and I are living alone again talking about when we're going to visit our grand kids. I guess it's never too late. I am truly the epitome of a paradox: bachelor's degree in English but have no desire to write. Well, here I am again with something actually worthy to write about. I told you I would. I wrote my first birth story with my son Luke on my forgotten tumblr almost 3 years ago (which I will find and post after I edit, edit, and edit! Haha!). I thought it fair that I commemorate the birth of my second child, my daughter's birth as well. So, with no further delay, let's begin...
On March 7th, a Saturday night, while I was taking a shower I noticed something "funny" down there (yep, this is definitely going to be a TMI post, so if you're squirmish, might be best to leave like now!) and I immediately knew what it was. It was my mucus plug and the first thing I did was call out, "Kyle, the baby is coming!". My water bag didn't break though. Kyle came in to the bathroom and asked if I needed any help. I just remember saying, "just pass me some tissue!" and feeling all sorts of feels ranging from excitement, happiness, fear, and anxiety but mostly happiness. We got ready for bed because I hadn't felt any signs of labor just yet. We slept, or well Kyle and Luke slept while I was awake thinking about a millions things. The apartment was clean, there was food in the fridge, and mine and Luke's things were all set and ready for when I had to go to the hospital.
On Monday morning was when I started feeling those pangs of pain and my water still had not broken. Luckily I had a midwife appointment that afternoon. Throughout the day I was beginning to really feel uncomfortable and when I met with the midwife, she checked me and said I was about 2cm. She told me I couldn't be admitted to the hospital unless my water had broken or I was at least 5 cm dilated. I knew what I had to do: walk, walk, and walk. I had a c-section with Luke and I was going to be attempting a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) I thought about all that went wrong the first time and was determined to dilate as much as I can on my own. I was open to using medical intervention especially for pain but I knew I needed to feel the contractions no matter how unbearable it was because that meant I was dilating.
That night was when I knew it was time. My contractions were feeling like a level 6-7. I am the biggest wuss in the world and absolutely hate being in pain so I called my midwife and told her I was coming. While pregnant with Luke, Kyle was away on deployment for almost my entire pregnancy. He came home just 2 weeks before Luke was born. We never really got to prepare for anything the first time around so we made sure we'd be ready the second time. We watched videos on youtube about how the birth partner can help ease the mother's pain by massaging. O. M. G. thank you youtube and to all the people who made videos because those massages were what literally helped me get through those hell fire contractions.
When we got to the hospital it was 1:15 am, my midwife checked me and told me I was only 3 cm. 3 mother effing cm. I was like, "you're joking right?" Nope. How in the freaking world was I only 3 cm?! Oh, and my water still had not broken! My midwife advised me to keep walking and keeping upright because unless I was 5 cm or my water broke, they couldn't admit me yet. Kyle and I walked until 3:30 am and when my midwife checked me again I was almost 4 cm. My heart sank and I was exhausted. I knew Kyle was tired too and we decided to go back to our apartment so we could get as much rest as we could. I hardly slept that night but I was glad Kyle got to sleep, he would still wake up to massage my lower back whenever a strong contraction would come. When we woke up that morning (or afternoon I should say) I was feeling complete S. H. I. T. Kyle was trying to encourage me to keep walking but all I wanted to do was lay down and cry. Looking back, I am so grateful for his persistence even though I thought it was annoying at the time. He suggested we go to our neighborhood park and walk as much as I can. We walked in the park for 2 hours until I was like, "okay, I need to effing lay down now". When we got back to our place Kyle made a hot bath and I was so thankful for the momentary relief it provided. Kyle read "The Sun Also Rises" while I paced our 800 sq ft apartment. By the time Kyle got to the part where Cohn finally convinces Jake to go on the trip with him I had had enough. I got back into the hot bath and completely lost it. I was hopeless, exhausted, and angry. My water still had not broken and I knew that when we went to the hospital I probably still would not have dilated much or at all. Kyle called the midwife and told her we were coming. I told Kyle to grab his things because we weren't coming back home without a baby.
When we got to the hospital and met with the midwife, she asked me how I was feeling and I let it all out. I told her I was tired and losing hope. I cried. A lot. I told her I was tired of walking and I had not slept in almost 3 days and I was ready to have this baby. She checked me again and told me I was 4 cm dilated and that she could give me something to help me sleep but that I couldn't go home anymore. I was like, "I am not going home without a baby! Give me the juice!".
I love drugs. After getting settled in our room, the nurse gave me the sleepy shot and I remember literally feeling it go through my body and just feeling so at peace. My contractions weren't killing me although I could still feel them, I just didn't care about them. I got 2 hours of sleep. We were admitted at 10 pm and we woke up at 6 am the next day, Wednesday. Once the drugs wore off I started to "care" about the contractions again. Pure joy. My nurse asked me if I wanted an epidural and I replied "100% yes!". That day was just my luck, the entire labor and delivery floor was packed and there were 4 emergency c-sections with only 2 anesthesiologists. I asked for the epidural at 6 in the morning, remember that.
I got a new nurse and a new midwife, Eva and Laura, who would be the ones to help me give birth that day. This is where things finally started to get interesting. As the day went on and my contractions getting even stronger I started to get really anxious. Am I really going to be able to push this time and feel my baby move? Will I make it to 10 cm? Will I need another c-section? Will I need an episiotomy? I don't want to go through the pain! So many things going through my head. By 10 am I still had not gotten the epidural and my contractions were a whopping level 10947243868923. My midwife finally suggested we pop my water bag because it still had not broke. Then I became a carnal creature. I took my clothes off, roared, screamed, and rolled around to the point where all the cords attached to me became unattached. My midwife tried to calm me down by helping me breathe and Kyle continued to rub my back but I was feeling pain I had never felt in my life. Not even with Luke. At 11 am the anesthesiologists finally came. FINALLY. I think everyone there was like FINALLY. I even had an OB check in my room to make sure everything was okay because I was literally screaming at the top of my lungs. Yup, I was that chick. Once I saw the anesthesiologist I was like, "I need the juice now!" but they had to go over the precautions and what not. They also gave me another sleepy shot because I needed to rest. I remember saying, "I can't do this anymore!" while they were sticking a needle into my spine. When they finished I finally felt some relief, but was feeling this stabbing pain on the lower left side of my stomach for the next hour. I informed the nurse right away and she became concerned because I was a VBAC patient. She called my midwife who contacted the OB (since I was with midwives, they only called the OB's for serious situations). The OB came in, someone I had never seen in my life and basically decided that I needed a repeat c-section. My heart broke and I remember just looking at everyone with no emotion just listening as to why I needed surgery. Again. The head OB came in along with four other people I didn't know and explained why I needed a c-section. They were afraid since I got an epidural but was still feeling pain especially on my lower stomach that my scar tissue was separating. That meant that there was a chance of uterine rupture and that would mean death for me or my child. After almost 3 days I was still 4 cm dilated. I'll never forget what the OB said, "your body just might not be ideal to have vaginal births." I nodded my head and said I understood. My midwife told the OB to give me an hour to rest and see how far I would be the next time they checked me. When everyone left the room and I was alone with my nurse, Eva, I cried big fat alligator tears, and she asked me what I was feeling. I told her I didn't want surgery again and I wanted to hold my baby and remember it this time because I didn't get to have that moment with my first child. I knew there was a chance that I was going to need another c-section and I was open to that notion but I felt like I had labored enough to attempt at having a vaginal birth and should be given the chance to push.
Kyle had stepped out right before all of that went down to get some lunch really quick and so when he came back into the room he knew something had gone wrong. I told him what they told me and I told him I was ready for surgery. I was tired and just wanted to meet my baby. I remember Kyle looking at me and saying, "You are not going to have surgery, you still have a chance. Don't give up." I wanted to slap him, but looking back now I'm so grateful for his words because he had faith in me when I didn't have any left and that's just what I needed to hear at the time.
An hour later, the OB and my midwife came in to check how far along I was, and to my surprise and their surprise I was 10 cm dilated. I stayed under 5 cm for almost 3 days and it took less than an hour to reach 10. WITH NO PITOCIN. Funny how things work out sometimes. My midwife didn't waste anytime. She ordered the nurse to prep for delivery and she gave me a 2 minute rundown on how to push my baby out. I remember saying, "What? I get to push?!" At 1:00 pm I finally started to push. I am so grateful that I got an epidural because I was able to concentrate on just pushing, I didn't push the "button" the last hour so that I could still have some sensation when the baby was coming down. I was given a mirror to see how we were progressing. With every contraction I pushed. I didn't think we were getting anywhere until I saw my baby's head. I'll never forget seeing the tiny patch of hair and out of nowhere this burst of energy just overcame me and I was pushing with everything that I had. My midwife had to step out to check on another mom really quick and Eva my nurse told me she thought I'd have my baby by 2:45 pm. There was no way I thought because technically this was my first time pushing a baby out of me. At 2:30 the baby's head was completely visible and I wanted to feel her. I touched her head and her hair and couldn't believe I was finally going to get to hold her soon. I asked Kyle if he wanted to touch her and he seemed reluctant at first thinking he wasn't allowed but the nurse said he was more than welcome to. And that was all it took, a touch from Daddy and I just opened up. The nurse called Laura my midwife and I will never forget those words, "We need a midwife for delivery, the baby is coming now!"
Everything after that just happened so fast, Laura came in sat down and told me not to push all the way during the next contraction and to just let the baby do the rest of the work. I told her once the baby was out I wanted to hold her skin to skin and to withhold umbilical cord clamping right away which she all honored. With my last contraction I didn't fight, I didn't push, I just let my baby do what she needed to do. At 2:45 pm like Eva predicted, my daughter was born earthside and I thought I'd cry but I didn't. At that moment I felt strong, I felt joy, I felt healing. She was like fire, warm, screaming, eyes wide opened. She was finally in my arms. Everything I ever wished and could hope for. I did it. We did it. The three of us.
We named her Stella Phoenix. Stella means "star" in Latin and Phoenix comes from the mythical fire bird. Her name literally means "Star Fire" which was so fitting for everything I experienced during this pregnancy. But that's another story.
