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November 2014 Moms
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MuchlyGen's overly wordy birth story!

MuchlyGenMuchlyGen member
in November 2014 Moms

Short version: On November 19th Eleanor Alyssa was born at home at 4:11 am after a very confusing, demanding labor. I was so confused by it that I didn't believe I was in labor, until I was /really/ in labor, and then never thought to contact my LB - oops! Ellie was 4 days past her due date. 8lbs 2.5oz,  20 inches long.


Long version: On 11/18 I woke up to a contraction that just felt different than all the BH I’d been having. After having a day of false labor a few days earlier I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I felt very peaceful and optimistic, content that everything would be as it was supposed to (which was a great feeling after a few days of being a weepy mess).

 

Things didn’t happen for awhile, and then started slow. A contraction every hour, then every 40 minutes. 25. 15. Then, finally, 7 minutes apart, and there they stayed. This was the exact pattern that my false labor had followed so I rather expected it to fizzle out as the day progressed. Instead these spaced out contractions kept getting stronger, little at a time, and around 4pm I was having to concentrate enough that it was getting hard to be really involved with my kids. It was only an hour until my husband would be getting home, but I asked him to come home early… I totally wanted to get to do that with each of the boys, but they both waited until evening to start labor, so I was kind of stoked to get the chance this time!

 

I was still reserving judgment, though.  Not convinced. My labor with my second baby was super fast, 3 hours from start to finish, and I assumed this one would follow similar lines, so I was a little confused by my body at this point. Then, around 5pm, the ctx jumped to 3 minutes apart, lasting about a minute. After several of these, I decided we better call the midwife… but I was still a little uncertain that this was the real thing. I was super anxious that the midwives would show up and the contractions would stop.

 

While waiting for them to come we talked to the boys, James and Charlie, and asked if they wanted to stay or if they’d rather go to their Grammy’s house (she lives just a few minutes away). James thought and said “I’d like to go and come back when the baby is out and you’re all done yelling.” My sweet baby. We’d done a lot of talking about how mom might get noisy. So off they went.

 

The midwives (Claudette and Susannah – Claudette was my primary, though) came and got all their stuff organized and set up. Claudette checked me and found I was at 4cm. I basically started walking laps around the house to help the contractions along, and everyone ordered Thai food for dinner. I walked and walked, but the contractions had spaced out again and were coming really inconsistently and of varying intensity. Finally Claudette suggested I lay down on my side for awhile, because that can sometimes help baby align a little better and help things along. I went. Lied down. Contractions stopped. Completely. My heart just broke. I stayed for maybe ten minutes, feeling like crying – then when I stood up I had the strongest contraction yet. They kept coming and getting stronger as long as I was up and moving, and they were intense enough that I couldn’t imagine the midwives leaving and me having to deal with contractions like this while taking care of the boys all day.

 

 It was around 10:00 pm and Claudette checked me again. Still. Four. Centimeters. I was so sad. However, she said I was clearly in labor and proceeded to do pressure points on my cervix. This is a thing I had never heard of before, and a thing that was not terribly comfortable… but it resulted in 7cm after a few minutes, and I finally felt hopeful. It also provided a reason why this labor was taking so long and was being so confusing – Miss Baby was asynclitic (head tilted a little) and was ROT (facing my hip instead of my spine).

 

My fella had to go get the boys at this point and brought them home to put them to bed. They came and said goodnight then got bustled off – Charlie proceeded to sleep through everything that was still to come.

 

Claudette instructed me to alternate positions – do hands and knees, do lunges, alternate lying on my left side and my right, and see if we could get her to  move. Contractions kept getting stronger throughout. Lying down they still spaced out a ton, but would come super intensely when they did, to the point  I was starting to need my husband. Poor man got abused. I would take his hand, asked him just to give me some resistance, then just pull on him as hard as I could.

 

A couple hours passed and baby didn’t budge from ROT. We moved on to me laboring on all fours while someone held an ice pack on my back. Oh man. It was so uncomfortable. It worked to make her move! But she turned posterior. Come on, baby. They did a technique with a rebozo where they wrapped it around me and jostled me briskly from side to side chanting “one TWO one TWO” and I just flopped around distractedly thinking how surreal this all was. Baby went back to ROT. On to laboring with one foot up on a stool, switching feet every few minutes. And I was getting loud, too. My vocalizations had started hours ago as humming, growing into low groans and moans, and now those “Ohhhhs” were decidedly more like “OHHHHHHHs”.

 

James woke up eventually, so periodically he would call quietly and someone would go in to him, and he would politely ask if the baby was out yet and be reassured we would tell him when she was.

 

Finally, I had a contraction that didn’t quite feel like a contraction, followed by a weird internal gurgle feeling… and then a drip. With a growl I grabbed a chux pad off the bed and threw it at my feet, and immediately the midwives put more down to make me a mat just in time for my water to break and my body to push.

 

I pushed. And I roared. And I rage screamed. I stood clutching the foot of the bed and squatting uncontrollably with each push. It was the most overwhelmingly overpoweringly intense sensation, but I still had a semi-coherent internal dialogue going:

“I don’t really want to be doing this right now.”

“NOT MUCH CHOICE IN THE MATTER.”

“It’s too much.”

“GOTTA DO IT TO MAKE IT STOP.”

“She’s presenting wrong, I could be pushing for HOURS. I can’t do this for HOURS.”

 

Then I hear my husband’s voice saying “They see hair, baby. They can see her hair.”

I didn’t believe it, so while gutterally screaming I felt, and sure enough, there was a squashy baby scalp right there. I pushed again and felt it begin to burn, and my internal voice went like this:

 

“Slow… slow… don’t tear… slow down… oh fuck it, just get her out”

 

and I pushed a little harder and then… such relief. Her head, still ROT, was out and I had a moment to catch my breath… then her body was out too, and they were telling me to take my baby. She was screaming bloody murder, louder than her older brothers ever did at birth, and I got to gather her up to my chest and go lie down on my very own bed and be done. Done being pregnant, done with the longest, most painful labor I’ve had, done with waiting, done with pushing. I got to be done and just snuggle this perfect new person.

 

With both of my sons I had a specific reaction to them. It wasn’t a magical, tearful, emotionally overwhelming meeting… it was extremely matter-of-fact feeling. It was a sensation of “Oh yes, of course. You belong.” I had the same feeling for her, this troublemaking little girl. She made sense, she belonged, and she finally was home with us.

 

She cried awhile, she nursed a little, then seemed content. My husband whispered that he didn’t want to rush me, but he desperately needed to hold her. After the placenta came, she got to go to her daddy, who I saw melt into goo at the first touch of her. James was still awake (big surprise, given how freaking loud I was) and so excited, so he got to come in to meet her, and he fell in love right away as well. The joy and delight on his face just… oh god, it was beautiful.

 

She was weighed, measured, wrapped up in a blanket and delivered back to me to nurse while Claudette checked me over. Amazingly, no tears, just a slight scratch on the perineum. The midwives got the call that another of their moms had gone into labor (oh, poor ladies, they must have been so tired) and so they tidied up quickly and bustled out, and we settled into bed, tired and happy.

 

 

So, fun facts: DS1 was born at 40w3d, Ellie at 40w4d, DS2 at 40w5d.

DS1 was my biggest at 8lbs7oz and 22”, Ellie next at 8lbs 2.5oz and 20”, then DS2 at 8lbs 1oz and 19”.

 

The old wives tale about heartburn meaning your baby will have a lot of hair? Accurate for us. Ellie has tons of beautiful dark hair.

 

This was my longest labor due to her positioning, at 11ish hours (or longer, but I’m counting from when I decided it was real enough to call people). DS1 was 7 hours, DS2 was 3 hours.

 

I pushed for a whopping 11 minutes. ROT and all. I’m a little proud of my vagina/uterus. Good work, team. (And to be consistent, I pushed for an hour and a half with DS1, I think because I was on my back – about seven minutes for DS2).

 

Her first full night with us, Ellie nursed almost nonstop for several hours, and managed to bring my milk in the next morning, about 30 hours after her birth. Determined child.

 

This was without a doubt the most physically and emotionally demanding pregnancy and labor I’ve had. I never thought I couldn’t do it, but man, there were several times that I thought I didn’t really /want/ to be doing it. But all in all, it was an amazing experience and I couldn’t feel more badass if I tried. I feel great, even just two days later. I’m moving around easily, my bleeding is light, my boobs are full and my baby just smells so good. I am, altogether, a happy mama.


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