Mother’s Day is approaching which has me reminiscing on all of my births. If you know me, you know I’m low key obsessed with birth and LOVE a birth story. I’ve already written down the story of my third birth, but now I want to share the story that made me a mother, the birth of my first.
My eldest was born at 38 weeks and 3 days, which is to say that he surprised me by arriving “early”. I knew my mom had me late, and my sister on her due date, and since this was my first baby, I just assumed I would go past my due date. Well we know what they say about assuming …
It was a Saturday and my partner and I had a relationship class that afternoon. It was put on by our local health department and free for couples who were expecting their first child. At this point, Matt and I were not engaged and together for (only) 3 years, so I thought this would be a worthwhile class. I was by far the most pregnant person there, and many of the other couples seemed more interested in what was going to happen when they gave birth (ie should have been in a birth class instead of a relationship class) and I believe by the end of the day I sort of snapped and barked at the class that the information they are looking for would be provided by the hospital and that this wasn’t the place for these types of questions.
When it was over and I waddled back to the car with Matt, I remember thinking we had done a lot of walking that day. We went home and ate dinner in front of the TV. I mentioned that we had laundry in the basement that needed to be done, but Matt didn’t get up to do it so I passive aggressively sighed and got up to do it myself. Angry again, I lugged the laundry upstairs and told him how I felt. I was angry, annoyed, and tired. He decided to sleep on the couch, as a result of my frustrations. That night I woke up around 1 am and went to the bathroom. As I crawled back into bed, I felt a gush – was this my water breaking? I sort of thought I peed myself, except for the fact that I had just gone, but it didn’t seem like enough liquid to be considered “my water breaking” (lol what do I know!). Plus, I still had two weeks left! I changed and got back into bed but my mind was racing. I wouldn’t sleep again for probably 30 hours. I watched Jersey Shore (lol) while I tried to rest.
Eventually the “cramps” started. They felt exactly like period cramps to me, coming and going like waves hitting the shore. Fine one minute, aching the next. I eventually get up, sometime in the morning, and take a shower. I talk to my mom and ask for her advice. She says it sounds like labour and that my water broke so suggests I go to the hospital. All the while, Matt is still asleep on the couch. After I gather my things (had I even packed a hospital bag yet?!) I wake him up.
“Wake up, we have to go to the hospital.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m in labour that’s why!”
He jumped up ready to go. I told him to take a shower first. He wanted to know why I didn’t wake him at night but I honestly figured there wasn’t any reason to. He showered and off we went.
A forewarning before I continue. I find birth fascinating and even before I gave birth myself I did a lot of research. I wanted ALL THE DETAILS on what to expect. I watched vlogs and read all I could. So, I may go into details here – read at your own risk.
We arrive at the hospital’s labour and delivery ward and check in with the front desk. They lead me to a room where a nurse can check if my water had indeed broken. I strip down and into a hospital gown, and a nurse comes in and checks me out. Hand right up there. As she pulls her hand out, a large gush of more liquid comes out of me. I was shocked. The nurse says, “yep, water definitely broken. You’re not leaving here without your baby.” For some reason hearing those words really solidified labour for me. It was happening.
Since my contractions weren’t strong, but I was in labour, they let me go to wander around the hospital (“keep walking!”) with instructions to return in an hour or so when a room would likely be available.
We wandered the hospital, calling friends and family to tell them the news – Here we go! When we returned back to labour and delivery, we were shown to a birth room. The rooms were great; large and with a private bathroom with a large tub. I was quite comfortable. They had all the yoga balls, mirrors, etc, for whatever you wanted while in labour. I surprised myself by just wanting to lay in bed and breathe through my contractions. I had fully expected wanted to walk, bounce, etc. I was most comfortable, however, laying down. My first nurse introduced herself and set up the room for us. The doctor came by quickly after, and I was informed that she wished to put me on pitocin to help speed things up. I was sort of surprised. It hasn’t been that long, and already my dreams of an unmedicated birth were being questioned. The nurse immediately sensed my hesitation and said, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. And I am your advocate. Tell me what you want and as long as I don’t think it’s medically unsafe, I will fight for you.” What a relief it was to hear her say that. She called the doctor back and told her that I did not wish to go on pitocin and the doctor agreed that was fine.
I continued there as things got more and more intense. Eventually my nurse’s shift ended and a new nurse came in. She was as wonderful as the last. I told her my goals of an unmedicated birth and she seemed genuinely excited for me. She was so encouraging and supportive. This was pre-COVID so family began to arrive in anticipation of baby boy. My sister and mom remained with me and my partner throughout the labour and birth. At some point we moved to internal monitoring of the baby, as his heart rate kept dropping. By this point I was heavily into my zone and not completely aware of the surroundings. Many nurses were coming and going, as I was at a teaching hospital. They asked if the student nurses could come and watch (they don’t get to see unmedicated births, I’m told, as most people have home births if they follow that route). Amongst the comings and goings of doctors and nurses, and as things begin to ramp up, I become EXHAUSTED. I absolutely could not imagine this going on any longer. How would I have the strength to push when it’s time if I am this tired? I need to sleep! I ask for some pain management options and we start by trying the gas. But I hate holding the mask to my face. I feel like it hinders my breathing and I don’t like it. I want the epidural. What kind of crazy woman doesn’t take advantage of modern medicine? Here I am, in one of the busiest labour and delivery wards in the country not taking advantage of the comfort they can offer me! Insanity! The anesthesiologist arrives promptly and I sign the papers for the epidural. He says he has one patient before me and then he’ll be back. Wow, harsh words. He’s walking away and I’m devastated that I won’t get relief for another few minutes. Have I mentioned? I’m EXHAUSTED.
After he leaves, my nurse asks if she can check my progress. She can tell I’m mentally and physically drained and she says – “I think you’re father along than you think you are.” I agree and she checks me out. “I bet you’ll have this baby by 9:00,” she says. I look at the clock: quarter past seven. I can do that.
The anesthesiologist returns and I apologize and shake my head. “I’ve changed my mind”, I tell him. For some reason I feel like I’ve wasted his time, but he smiles and wishes me good luck, and congratulations. I look at my nurse. I can do this.
Not long after, amongst the comings and goings of nurses and doctors, I sense a change in the air. The student nurses are ushered out and my nurse speaks quietly but firmly on the phone. I turn to look at my mom and sister who stand behind me. My sister is crying. And my mom is smiling but has tears in her eyes. My nurse is at my one side and Matt on the other and two doctors come quickly into the room to my feet.
“Baby’s heart rate is dropping. He needs to come out now.”
I hear the words but I’m not sure what I can do about it?
“On your next contraction I need you to push,” says the one doctor.
“No,” says the other, who I recognize from my intake as the head of the department. “We cannot wait for your next contraction, you need to push now.”
I barrel down and push as hard as I can. I see now two nurses in the room behind the doctors. They are fully scrubbed in, their hands up, gloves on, and watching me. A tiny baby bassinet inbetween them connected to all sorts of monitors.
“Again, PUSH” the doctor shouts.
“I can’t” I tell her. I’m exhausted.
“If you can’t get him out, Rachel, I’m going to have to cut him out of you.”
Her words work; I’m terrified and I push as hard as I can. I feel him being born. It’s 8:49 pm. Quickly, he is rushed to the nurses, although to be honest I don’t remember that part. I remember him being handed to me, everyone relaxed and smiling. I remember the scrubbed in nurses pushing the bassinet out of the room, waving and congratulating. We did it, and he was perfect. Matt cuts the cord and we are left to enjoy these moments with our first born. Our baby boy.
Despite the bit of drama, I felt it was the most magical and amazing experience. I’ve now had a total of three unmedicated vaginal deliveries, and each one has been its own unique journey. Everyone will have their own story and journey, and I know how fortunate I am to have been blessed with healthy births. My son and I would go on to struggle with breastfeeding (a truly difficult journey that I will perhaps share another time) as well as a jaundice scare. I was an absolute wreck of emotions, and once I finally began to feel more myself, we all went into COVID lockdown and the world changed. But for now, I’ll leave it at my reflections on birth number one. The birth that made me a mom. Baby boy turns 5 this year, has a younger brother and sister. He takes swimming lessons and loves school. There is nothing better than learning more and more about the little people you create!
If you have a birth story you’ve shared let me know – I’d love to read it.
Happy early Mother’s Day to every mother out there – dog moms, plant moms, etc. We’re all just out here loving our babies and doing our best!
Until next time,
– R