Sam's Birth Story, Part III

Since completing my doula training, and immersing myself in birth culture, one of the things that really interested me was fetal positioning. Although I had never experienced it myself, I had heard many stories of friends who had had excruciating back labor, indicating that the baby was posterior (facing forward). I also had read about ascynclitic (baby's head cocked or angled to the side) births, where labor and delivery lasted forever because baby was not in an optimal position. Probably due to all of this exposure to alternative positioning, I had a lot of concerns about how I might handle this if it happened to me. My midwives can attest to me bringing it up often during our visits, asking them what we would do if I experienced back labor or a different "malpresentation". I read books about optimal fetal positioning, slept on my side, didn't recline backwards, sat forward on my birth ball, spent a lot of time on my hands and knees, and even visited a doula friend in another town so she could rebozo me, encouraging baby into a good position.

Prodromal labor is sometimes referred to as "false labor". There is nothing "false" about it, however, as it really does serve a purpose. Prodromal labor are contractions that are irregular, that do not get closer together or more intense, leading up to birth. Prodromal labor can dilate and efface. Prodromal labor can be painful and intense. It can last for hours or days. The main purpose of prodromal, or pre-labor, is to get your body and baby ready for delivery. The contractions can help baby move into a better position. Women who experience prodromal labor can also have shorter periods of active labor.

None of these rational thoughts were running through my mind on Friday evening. I had burst into tears off and on all day in frustration and fear. By 7:00 pm I was completing 16 hours of contractions that were hurting and exhausting me. I hadn't slept more than an hour in the past two days and I could sense that I was reaching my limit. In desperation, Mike and I took a walk around our neighborhood. It was the same route that we took the afternoon before Charlie was born, and maybe I was hoping for similar results. On our walk, Mike reassured me that everything was going to be just fine, and that he trusted what our midwives had told us -- that labor would start that night. I tried to share his optimism, but thought to myself that he wasn't the one enduring contractions every five to 15 minutes.

Shortly after getting home, we all decided to go to bed. My mother had decided not to go home that morning and was going to stay the night. I actually encouraged her to go home because I was sure that as long as she was there I wouldn't go into labor (for some reason). My mom slept in with John and Mike slept out on the sofa, knowing that I probably wouldn't be doing much sleeping once I got into bed. I laid on my side in my bed trying to sleep a little in between contractions, but rest wasn't forthcoming. I stared at the birth pool, inflated but empty. We had changed the sheets that morning and all of the birth supplies were out. Everything was ready, but was I ready? Was the baby ready? I just couldn't shake the feeling that something must be wrong for me to be experiencing this type of labor.

A couple of hours passed with me just laying there, still contracting. I watched TV for a while. Eventually, about 11:30 I got up to use the bathroom. After I stood up from the toilet I had a contraction, just slightly stronger than the ones I had had in bed. I had the idea to just stand up for a little bit to see if the next contraction would come a little sooner. Five minutes later I had another one. And then five minutes after that I had a contraction so strong that I started moaning and rocking back and forth. I questioned myself. Could this be it? Was it just another false alarm? Suddenly I decided that I didn't care if it was a false alarm, I was going to get in my birth tub anyway.

I turned on the water to start filling the tub and walked out to let Mike know what was going on. On the way to the living room I was struck with another contraction. I had to stop to moan and sway. In the darkness I watched Mike sleeping on the sofa, debating whether to wake him. My moaning woke him up, though, and he immediately hopped up to assist me. Before I could finish telling him what was going on I had another contraction and the moaning and swaying resumed. Mike put his hands on my shoulders to comfort me, and said, "Oh, Amy!" Believe it or not this was my first experience having my husband be my labor support. In the hospital environment he had always been too intimidated, but at home we were able to be more comfortable and intimate. I finally was able to tell him that I was filling the pool and getting in no matter what. I didn't care anymore if we had the baby at home and we could just go to the hospital for a c-section in a couple of hours if the baby didn't come. I couldn't do it anymore.

I walked back to our bedroom and put on my swimsuit, top and bottom. My mom woke up, and I told her to go back to bed. In all of my craziness, I was worried that if she looked at me that labor wouldn't progress (kind of like the morning), but she told me that there was no way she could go to sleep. Fine, I thought. Whatever. I didn't have the energy to care about anything anymore, and I was very cranky. I called my doula and my midwives. I mentioned to Pamela on the phone that I just wanted to let her know that I was planning on going to the hospital for a c-section in a couple of hours, that I just couldn't do labor anymore. I could hear her smiling through the phone. All the while I was contracting and moaning every three minutes.

With everyone en route back to my house, I settled myself into the very warm water of my birth pool.