Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Sam's Birth Story, Part V -- Birth
When Pam told me she was concerned about the blood she was seeing and that she wanted me to get serious about pushing, I wasn't concerned. I was so inside of myself, overwhelmed with the intensity of what I was feeling, that what she said didn't worry me. I knew that everything was going to be okay.
As the next contraction started to build, I started to push. Hard. It was the strangest feeling -- almost like I was pushing against a brick wall. It felt like this baby wasn't budging a bit, and remembering that no one had checked my cervix to tell me that I was fully dilated (I was operating on instinct), I wondered if my sense was correct. Maybe my body wasn't ready yet. No sooner had that thought crossed my mind, then I felt an explosion. I had pushed the baby's head out without even realizing that I was crowning. I wouldn't have even known that the head was out if somebody (I don't know who) hadn't said something. Being in the water took away all of those "ring of fire" sensations that I was expecting. It was amazing.
Pamela and Lennon reached across to unloop the cord from around the baby's neck. This is the part that I wasn't aware of until I saw pictures. My back was to everyone and I had no idea anyone even came near me (shows how good they are at their job). With another small push, the baby shot out towards the other end of the pool, totally under the water, and Lennon reached in and "swooshed" the baby back through my legs so I could pick him up.I reached down and pulled him up by the armpits, and held him to my chest. I was in awe. I was finally able to open my eyes to look up and see my family gathered on my bed. Mike and John were smiling; my mom was crying; Stacey, Lennon and Pamela looked so supportive. I was filled with love. Love for this new little boy I was holding against me, and love for my family and friends that were able to share the experience with me. I don't really think I can find the right words to describe that moment with any accuracy. Just filled with joy.
Cradling him in my hands, I held him out so I could have a look at him. He wasn't moving at all or making any noises. For a moment I was worried something was wrong, but right then he brought his arm to his face and let out a little coo. He never cried. He kept his eyes closed, and to me it seemed like he must have slept through most of labor because he really acted like he was asleep. I studied his faced wondering who he looked like, and noticing his nose first, I announced that he looked like Charlie. He was perfect.
Pretty quickly Lennon had me get out of the pool to sit on the birth stool to await the delivery of my placenta. She wanted to better be able to monitor my blood loss. Even though labor was over, I was continuing to have contractions and cramping, as my uterus was clamping down, trying to do the last of its work. This was not fun. I wanted to just hop in bed and cuddle with my baby, but instead I was squatting on a very low stool that resembled a toilet seat while holding my baby. Someone helped me take of my swimsuit top and wrapped me in a towel so I could keep Sam warm. After a half-hour of waiting, I got impatient, and Lennon did a little cord traction to see if the placenta was sitting right there, but it stayed put for the time being. Finally, after another fifteen minutes (45 minutes total), the placenta plopped out into a metal bowl after a little push from me. My pesky placenta and I were finally face to face, and I could care less. I was ready to get cleaned up and get into bed.
Stacey and Lennon washed me from the waist down and checked for tears, all while little Sam was in bed with me. After pushing so hard, and not very carefully, I fully expected to need some stitches. Amazingly, I only had a very superficial first-degree tear that did not require stitching. As they were working on me, I was able to put Sam to my breast and he latched right on. His eyes were open wide and he just stared at me while he nursed. It is my favorite memory of the birth. I felt so bonded to him. While he was nursing I could hear that Charlie was up too, and I could hear him laughing and playing with Mike and John.
Lennon weighed Sam right next to me on the bed. He was seven pounds, two ounces -- my smallest baby by nearly a pound. After he was weighed Lennon asked me if I would like to dress Sam, but I was too tired so I asked her if she would do it. She dressed him in a little nightgown that I had picked out and set aside several weeks before he was born. Pamela came in and washed my face with a cool washcloth, and it felt like heaven. I was so hot. I got up and put on a clean t-shirt and climbed back into bed.
Soon, Stacey, Lennon and Pamela made their way home. They would be back the next day to check on me. My mom and Mike settled down the kids and got them ready for bed. Slowly, the house became quiet and dark and Sam and I snuggled into my bed together, mother and baby son. It took me a long time to fall asleep. My mind was full of memories of the last 48 hours, amazed at how perfectly things had turned out despite my worries and fears. Looking down at this new little boy, I felt a strong sense of completion. We had our three boys: John, Charlie, and Sam, the children I felt that we were meant to have.
Finally, as the night sky started to glow with the sun's first light, I fell into an exhausted (and sweaty) sleep, holding the sweetest smelling baby in my arms.
As the next contraction started to build, I started to push. Hard. It was the strangest feeling -- almost like I was pushing against a brick wall. It felt like this baby wasn't budging a bit, and remembering that no one had checked my cervix to tell me that I was fully dilated (I was operating on instinct), I wondered if my sense was correct. Maybe my body wasn't ready yet. No sooner had that thought crossed my mind, then I felt an explosion. I had pushed the baby's head out without even realizing that I was crowning. I wouldn't have even known that the head was out if somebody (I don't know who) hadn't said something. Being in the water took away all of those "ring of fire" sensations that I was expecting. It was amazing.
Pamela and Lennon reached across to unloop the cord from around the baby's neck. This is the part that I wasn't aware of until I saw pictures. My back was to everyone and I had no idea anyone even came near me (shows how good they are at their job). With another small push, the baby shot out towards the other end of the pool, totally under the water, and Lennon reached in and "swooshed" the baby back through my legs so I could pick him up.I reached down and pulled him up by the armpits, and held him to my chest. I was in awe. I was finally able to open my eyes to look up and see my family gathered on my bed. Mike and John were smiling; my mom was crying; Stacey, Lennon and Pamela looked so supportive. I was filled with love. Love for this new little boy I was holding against me, and love for my family and friends that were able to share the experience with me. I don't really think I can find the right words to describe that moment with any accuracy. Just filled with joy.
Cradling him in my hands, I held him out so I could have a look at him. He wasn't moving at all or making any noises. For a moment I was worried something was wrong, but right then he brought his arm to his face and let out a little coo. He never cried. He kept his eyes closed, and to me it seemed like he must have slept through most of labor because he really acted like he was asleep. I studied his faced wondering who he looked like, and noticing his nose first, I announced that he looked like Charlie. He was perfect.
Pretty quickly Lennon had me get out of the pool to sit on the birth stool to await the delivery of my placenta. She wanted to better be able to monitor my blood loss. Even though labor was over, I was continuing to have contractions and cramping, as my uterus was clamping down, trying to do the last of its work. This was not fun. I wanted to just hop in bed and cuddle with my baby, but instead I was squatting on a very low stool that resembled a toilet seat while holding my baby. Someone helped me take of my swimsuit top and wrapped me in a towel so I could keep Sam warm. After a half-hour of waiting, I got impatient, and Lennon did a little cord traction to see if the placenta was sitting right there, but it stayed put for the time being. Finally, after another fifteen minutes (45 minutes total), the placenta plopped out into a metal bowl after a little push from me. My pesky placenta and I were finally face to face, and I could care less. I was ready to get cleaned up and get into bed.
Stacey and Lennon washed me from the waist down and checked for tears, all while little Sam was in bed with me. After pushing so hard, and not very carefully, I fully expected to need some stitches. Amazingly, I only had a very superficial first-degree tear that did not require stitching. As they were working on me, I was able to put Sam to my breast and he latched right on. His eyes were open wide and he just stared at me while he nursed. It is my favorite memory of the birth. I felt so bonded to him. While he was nursing I could hear that Charlie was up too, and I could hear him laughing and playing with Mike and John.
Lennon weighed Sam right next to me on the bed. He was seven pounds, two ounces -- my smallest baby by nearly a pound. After he was weighed Lennon asked me if I would like to dress Sam, but I was too tired so I asked her if she would do it. She dressed him in a little nightgown that I had picked out and set aside several weeks before he was born. Pamela came in and washed my face with a cool washcloth, and it felt like heaven. I was so hot. I got up and put on a clean t-shirt and climbed back into bed.
Soon, Stacey, Lennon and Pamela made their way home. They would be back the next day to check on me. My mom and Mike settled down the kids and got them ready for bed. Slowly, the house became quiet and dark and Sam and I snuggled into my bed together, mother and baby son. It took me a long time to fall asleep. My mind was full of memories of the last 48 hours, amazed at how perfectly things had turned out despite my worries and fears. Looking down at this new little boy, I felt a strong sense of completion. We had our three boys: John, Charlie, and Sam, the children I felt that we were meant to have.
Finally, as the night sky started to glow with the sun's first light, I fell into an exhausted (and sweaty) sleep, holding the sweetest smelling baby in my arms.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Sam's Birth Story, Part IV -- This is It!
I've read several birth stories lately where the author has used their midwife's notes to write everything out. This makes sense, because when in the throes of labor, it can be very difficult to be aware of everything that is going on. Everyone at a birth has their own experiences and perceptions, and I've done the best I can to be as accurate as possible, while sharing my own perspective of the birth. Interestingly, I got some pictures back from my doula the other day of the birth. She had captured a picture of something that I had absolutely no idea had occurred (I'll share more about this later). I don't know where I'm going with this, other than to say that the facts presented are my own thoughts of how everything occurred, and maybe I'm not totally accurate, but I think I'm pretty close.Back to the story...
Stacey, my doula, was first to arrive. It was about one o'clock in the morning. I had been in the water for less than five minutes, and I really had a hard time finding a comfortable position. I tried sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the walls of the tub, floating on my stomach, and kneeling, but as soon as a contraction hit my whole bottom would hurt so bad that I just didn't know where to situate myself. I started yelling, "No, no, no, no, no" over and over during contractions. Stacey encouraged me to relax my face and that I could definitely do this.
Lennon came in soon after to listen to the baby's heart rate during a contraction. She didn't make me move at all, and just stuck the doppler into the water and listened. The baby had gotten a lot lower so it was difficult to find his heartbeat, but she did after several tries, and it was a wonderful sound.
Within minutes, the contractions were right on top of each other. I was yelling my way through them. I was yelling so loud that I was sure I would wake up the kids and my neighbors. Later, my midwives told me that I wasn't yelling all that loud, but, in the moment, I felt like I was loud enough to bring down the roof. It was the only way I could manage the pain. I never would have felt comfortable yelling like that in the hospital, but it really helped me to feel better.
Stacey mentioned that she would like to try and take off my swimsuit bottoms in between a contraction (unlike me, she actually thought I might have a baby sometime soon). I agreed with her, but the contractions weren't really having a breaking point, and the baby was just pushing down so hard. Every time he moved it was excruciating and the most difficult part of labor. I had never experienced that sensation before. It was almost more than I could handle. I kept saying, "don't move baby, please don't move". At some point, Stacey came over and yanked off my underwear. It was quite an ordeal, and one of my funniest memories of the birth. Me squirming around, trying to lift my hips and her pulling off my very wet, and difficult to maneuver, bottoms off.
I wish I could share some amazing technique that I used to get through those contractions, but I don't. This was such a different labor for me, and it was all I could do to get through it. I was yelling, saying I couldn't do it, crying. I didn't visualize a bud opening up to the flower. I didn't have a mantra. I felt like I was on a runaway train, and was just hanging on for dear life.
A little before 2:00 AM I switched positions to lean over the side of the pool. My back was towards everyone. Lennon came over to listen to the baby again. I had another contraction, but it felt different this time. It felt good. It wasn't painful. I was able to just breathe through it and didn't feel the need to yell. At the peak of it I wondered if my body was starting to push. I told Mike that I thought it was time to go and wake up John. I waited for the next contraction to actually try pushing. The contraction came and as it peaked I pushed a little bit. I could feel my water breaking and said so out loud.
From behind me I heard Pamela's voice. I hadn't even realized she was in the room. Quietly she told me that she was seeing a little more blood than she likes to see (I hadn't noticed that the clear water of the birth pool was slowly turning red) and that she would like me to push really hard during the next contraction and get my baby out.
I grumbled something about already pushing hard, and started to bear down.
Stacey, my doula, was first to arrive. It was about one o'clock in the morning. I had been in the water for less than five minutes, and I really had a hard time finding a comfortable position. I tried sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the walls of the tub, floating on my stomach, and kneeling, but as soon as a contraction hit my whole bottom would hurt so bad that I just didn't know where to situate myself. I started yelling, "No, no, no, no, no" over and over during contractions. Stacey encouraged me to relax my face and that I could definitely do this.
Lennon came in soon after to listen to the baby's heart rate during a contraction. She didn't make me move at all, and just stuck the doppler into the water and listened. The baby had gotten a lot lower so it was difficult to find his heartbeat, but she did after several tries, and it was a wonderful sound.
Within minutes, the contractions were right on top of each other. I was yelling my way through them. I was yelling so loud that I was sure I would wake up the kids and my neighbors. Later, my midwives told me that I wasn't yelling all that loud, but, in the moment, I felt like I was loud enough to bring down the roof. It was the only way I could manage the pain. I never would have felt comfortable yelling like that in the hospital, but it really helped me to feel better.
Stacey mentioned that she would like to try and take off my swimsuit bottoms in between a contraction (unlike me, she actually thought I might have a baby sometime soon). I agreed with her, but the contractions weren't really having a breaking point, and the baby was just pushing down so hard. Every time he moved it was excruciating and the most difficult part of labor. I had never experienced that sensation before. It was almost more than I could handle. I kept saying, "don't move baby, please don't move". At some point, Stacey came over and yanked off my underwear. It was quite an ordeal, and one of my funniest memories of the birth. Me squirming around, trying to lift my hips and her pulling off my very wet, and difficult to maneuver, bottoms off.
I wish I could share some amazing technique that I used to get through those contractions, but I don't. This was such a different labor for me, and it was all I could do to get through it. I was yelling, saying I couldn't do it, crying. I didn't visualize a bud opening up to the flower. I didn't have a mantra. I felt like I was on a runaway train, and was just hanging on for dear life.
A little before 2:00 AM I switched positions to lean over the side of the pool. My back was towards everyone. Lennon came over to listen to the baby again. I had another contraction, but it felt different this time. It felt good. It wasn't painful. I was able to just breathe through it and didn't feel the need to yell. At the peak of it I wondered if my body was starting to push. I told Mike that I thought it was time to go and wake up John. I waited for the next contraction to actually try pushing. The contraction came and as it peaked I pushed a little bit. I could feel my water breaking and said so out loud.
From behind me I heard Pamela's voice. I hadn't even realized she was in the room. Quietly she told me that she was seeing a little more blood than she likes to see (I hadn't noticed that the clear water of the birth pool was slowly turning red) and that she would like me to push really hard during the next contraction and get my baby out.
I grumbled something about already pushing hard, and started to bear down.
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