Sometimes, I want to scream at people that they have no idea what they're talking about. It infuriates me to see people talking about a subject like they understand it, when they honestly haven't been there, even if they think they have, to a degree. Once you have been there, you'll agree with me.
It really comes down to this: if you haven't, you haven't. Almost doesn't count. All you understand the perspective of those who have been in that same position. You don't understand (from experience) anything else.
So why do people think it is okay to pass judgement on situations they've never been in? It's one thing to theorize. That's fine. It's totally cool to talk about what you think you might have done, or what you would like to do, if you were ever in that situation. But you weren't. So to say you understand it is a lie.
Take parenting, which I have blogged about before. You don't understand a parent's perspective if you've never been one. You can't argue with me on that. I am a parent. I know what it's like to not be a parent, and I know what it's like to be one. If you haven't been on both sides, you can't understand both. End of story.
Pregnancy is the same. Never been pregnant? You don't know what it's like. Leave it alone. Don't judge. Don't push your opinion, unless you're a doula or midwife or doctor, etc., and your opinion is more fact and research than personal perception. No personal basis for your opinion? Keep your mouth shut, because you have no ground to stand on.
And then we come to birth. Had an epidural at 4cm? Don't tell me you know "how bad contractions are." Mine was botched, and I still don't say I know what an entirely natural childbirth was like. First time around I had a full spinal/epidural at 4.5-5cm, so I didn't even talk about "real" transition contractions. Then, I had a small dose of a mild muscle relaxer and some slight numbness in non-vital areas due to an epidural that didn't take at ALL in my second birth, so I had a mostly natural birth (I felt everything pelvically, that's for sure), but I don't say I had an unmedicated birth. I don't say that I know what that's like. I don't say anything other than what I experienced. I don't have any idea what a c-section is like, or an episiotomy, so I don't talk about them in that regard. I have nothing personally to go on. And I certainly don't pass judgement on others' perceptions. Someone may tell me that they didn't have so much as a Tylenol and it didn't hurt, and I believe them. Why? Because everyone perceives things differently. What hurts me worse than anything else I've ever felt might not even be a twinge of pain to someone else.
That's why you don't judge. My broken toe might hurt more than yours, even though they were technically the same injury. Why? Because I have a lower pain tolerance than you. Think your job is more stressful than the ones I've had? You might be right, because you find different things stressful than I do.
So if you haven't been through something, don't pass judgement on it. Don't say it's not as bad as everyone says, if you haven't really gone through it. Because you don't really know. It's just insulting to say otherwise. Please be respectful of those who have been there.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
Friendly Advice
I am a very opinionated person. I will be the first to admit that. It is very hard to bite my tongue when I see someone doing or promoting something I don't agree with, but I understand that that is their right, and diversity of beliefs is a good thing. We all have something we can learn from each other, even if it's simply perspective.
But when I see someone making choices based on outright bad information (or no real information at all, just "habit" or "hearsay"), I worry that they'll later learn the truth and regret their decisions. So, I offer them unbiased research featuring the pros and the cons of what they're considering, to help them make the best choice for them. If they decide to go ahead with their original choice, okay! That means they won't have regrets due to lack of information, and I can be at peace with that. I'm not doing it to change their minds, but rather to reassure both myself and them that they are truly making an informed choice. It isn't an informed choice if you don't know what your choices are, right?
So how is it that when I offer this research, I am perceived as being judgmental? Why is it a bad thing to make sure that the people I care about make their decisions based on real, solid facts? Should I not care? Should I sit back and allow them to "just do whatever they want," when I know that the reasons they've stated for choosing something aren't based on facts? Should it not bother me that someone I care about might later be devastated because they find the truth and regret their choices later in life?
Like I said, I'm not trying to talk them out of anything. I'm not trying to make them choose as I would. I just want them to have all the information in hand before they make any decisions. If the evidence I give them confirms that they were doing the right thing for them all along, then great! Helping friends/family feel assured in their choices is a wonderful thing! And if the evidence I give them makes them rethink things, and they change their minds, will they not be grateful that I spoke up and stopped them from making what would ultimately be a mistake?
There are a lot of things in my life that I wish someone had warned/told me about before I messed up. Yes, some things you just have to learn for yourself, but not all things. I wish someone had told me, before I went into labor, that I didn't have to lie flat on my back to labor and push if I didn't want to, because my first birth would have gone a lot differently had I known that. I wish someone had told me about upper lip ties and such making breastfeeding more painful, because then I might have succeeded in nursing my younger daughter. I wish someone would have taught me about ergonomic babywearing with my first, because the narrow-based carrier I had was so uncomfortable for both my daughter and myself that I stopped using it, and being able to wear her would have made my life so much easier. I could go on and on about all the hard lessons I've learned that I wholeheartedly wish someone had told be about beforehand.
So I ask you: if you saw someone you love/care for making bad decisions based on shaky logic/outdated evidence that you have solid proof is wrong, would you give it to them? Would you speak up for their sake (not yours) and give them all the facts, so that they can either be reassured and proceed, or change their minds, and be grateful to you either way? Would you be able to respect their choice if they decided to go ahead with their original plan? I'd like to think I can. I'm an advocate of informed choice, in all things. I won't list any hot-button issues here, because I don't want this to turn into a debate about anything specific, but I refuse to sit back and let someone make what might be a huge mistake, when my coming forward with facts (and the research to back them up) could make a difference, either way. It comes from a place of love and caring, not judgement and pushiness.
But when I see someone making choices based on outright bad information (or no real information at all, just "habit" or "hearsay"), I worry that they'll later learn the truth and regret their decisions. So, I offer them unbiased research featuring the pros and the cons of what they're considering, to help them make the best choice for them. If they decide to go ahead with their original choice, okay! That means they won't have regrets due to lack of information, and I can be at peace with that. I'm not doing it to change their minds, but rather to reassure both myself and them that they are truly making an informed choice. It isn't an informed choice if you don't know what your choices are, right?
So how is it that when I offer this research, I am perceived as being judgmental? Why is it a bad thing to make sure that the people I care about make their decisions based on real, solid facts? Should I not care? Should I sit back and allow them to "just do whatever they want," when I know that the reasons they've stated for choosing something aren't based on facts? Should it not bother me that someone I care about might later be devastated because they find the truth and regret their choices later in life?
Like I said, I'm not trying to talk them out of anything. I'm not trying to make them choose as I would. I just want them to have all the information in hand before they make any decisions. If the evidence I give them confirms that they were doing the right thing for them all along, then great! Helping friends/family feel assured in their choices is a wonderful thing! And if the evidence I give them makes them rethink things, and they change their minds, will they not be grateful that I spoke up and stopped them from making what would ultimately be a mistake?
There are a lot of things in my life that I wish someone had warned/told me about before I messed up. Yes, some things you just have to learn for yourself, but not all things. I wish someone had told me, before I went into labor, that I didn't have to lie flat on my back to labor and push if I didn't want to, because my first birth would have gone a lot differently had I known that. I wish someone had told me about upper lip ties and such making breastfeeding more painful, because then I might have succeeded in nursing my younger daughter. I wish someone would have taught me about ergonomic babywearing with my first, because the narrow-based carrier I had was so uncomfortable for both my daughter and myself that I stopped using it, and being able to wear her would have made my life so much easier. I could go on and on about all the hard lessons I've learned that I wholeheartedly wish someone had told be about beforehand.
So I ask you: if you saw someone you love/care for making bad decisions based on shaky logic/outdated evidence that you have solid proof is wrong, would you give it to them? Would you speak up for their sake (not yours) and give them all the facts, so that they can either be reassured and proceed, or change their minds, and be grateful to you either way? Would you be able to respect their choice if they decided to go ahead with their original plan? I'd like to think I can. I'm an advocate of informed choice, in all things. I won't list any hot-button issues here, because I don't want this to turn into a debate about anything specific, but I refuse to sit back and let someone make what might be a huge mistake, when my coming forward with facts (and the research to back them up) could make a difference, either way. It comes from a place of love and caring, not judgement and pushiness.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
No Right to Complain?
I have heard people say that some women (usually those who went into labor spontaneously before their due date and had successful vaginal deliveries) have "no right to complain" about anything concerning their births, because it "could have been so much worse."
What?!
First of all, no birth is "easy." There are ups and downs to every single kind of birth, and it's amazingly rare to find a woman who doesn't regret something about her experience, however trivial it might seem. I've heard stories of labors that lasted an hour or less, and even though that meant their ordeal was over quickly, it was all so chaotic and crazy that the mom didn't have time to cope or even register what was happening before it was done. That can be very hectic and traumatic. There are some labors that last just long enough that the mom gets pain relief, only to find that it's time to push and she didn't need it after all (like me with my second birth). Some women are induced and everything goes smoothly, but it still wasn't the "natural" birth they wanted. Some moms have completely natural, unmedicated labors that last for a day or more, and look back wishing they had accepted pain meds or something to make their experience less exhausting and overwhelming.
Simply having their desired vaginal birth doesn't mean that it wasn't hard, or that everything went according to their plan, or that everything was smooth, or that there's nothing they would change about it. Just because another mom had a long labor that ended up in an emergency c-section doesn't make another mom's experiences less valid.
Just as I think it's wrong for advocates of all things natural to scoff at c-section mothers, so do I think it's wrong for those who had difficult, traumatizing birth experiences to tell those of us who had it "easier" that our experiences "weren't that bad" and we have no room to complain. All a person can really know is what they themselves have been through, and the fact that there's someone out there who has had it worse doesn't invalidate their experiences. There are many things that I regret about my daughters' births, and I struggle with that daily. It's making me reconsider my choices, and think of different methods of birth.
Yes, I had two successful vaginal deliveries. I'm grateful. I know it "could have been worse." But the thing is, birth isn't a competition. That mentality is so destructive. My experiences have nothing to do with anyone else's. They are my own, and I can feel about them however I want, because they are all I know and have to truly compare with. The same goes for every mom.
So don't tell me I don't have anything to complain about. Because that's just you projecting your regrets, trauma, and issues on me. I'm glad to listen, of course, but I won't get into a "my horse is bigger than your horse" kind of competition with you. I will never compare my birth experiences with anyone else's in that way, and I won't allow anyone to do it to me.
What?!
First of all, no birth is "easy." There are ups and downs to every single kind of birth, and it's amazingly rare to find a woman who doesn't regret something about her experience, however trivial it might seem. I've heard stories of labors that lasted an hour or less, and even though that meant their ordeal was over quickly, it was all so chaotic and crazy that the mom didn't have time to cope or even register what was happening before it was done. That can be very hectic and traumatic. There are some labors that last just long enough that the mom gets pain relief, only to find that it's time to push and she didn't need it after all (like me with my second birth). Some women are induced and everything goes smoothly, but it still wasn't the "natural" birth they wanted. Some moms have completely natural, unmedicated labors that last for a day or more, and look back wishing they had accepted pain meds or something to make their experience less exhausting and overwhelming.
Simply having their desired vaginal birth doesn't mean that it wasn't hard, or that everything went according to their plan, or that everything was smooth, or that there's nothing they would change about it. Just because another mom had a long labor that ended up in an emergency c-section doesn't make another mom's experiences less valid.
Just as I think it's wrong for advocates of all things natural to scoff at c-section mothers, so do I think it's wrong for those who had difficult, traumatizing birth experiences to tell those of us who had it "easier" that our experiences "weren't that bad" and we have no room to complain. All a person can really know is what they themselves have been through, and the fact that there's someone out there who has had it worse doesn't invalidate their experiences. There are many things that I regret about my daughters' births, and I struggle with that daily. It's making me reconsider my choices, and think of different methods of birth.
Yes, I had two successful vaginal deliveries. I'm grateful. I know it "could have been worse." But the thing is, birth isn't a competition. That mentality is so destructive. My experiences have nothing to do with anyone else's. They are my own, and I can feel about them however I want, because they are all I know and have to truly compare with. The same goes for every mom.
So don't tell me I don't have anything to complain about. Because that's just you projecting your regrets, trauma, and issues on me. I'm glad to listen, of course, but I won't get into a "my horse is bigger than your horse" kind of competition with you. I will never compare my birth experiences with anyone else's in that way, and I won't allow anyone to do it to me.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
My Birth Story(ies)
After giving birth to my second daughter 2 months ago, I realized that many of my peers have been writing down their birth stories in order to preserve the memory of the day their child came into the world. I decided that I wanted to do that, too, and then I immediately felt guilty that I didn't do that with my firstborn. So, since it was only 2 years, 3 months ago, I'm going to attempt to tell that story to the best of my ability, then move on to the story of my second time around.
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Emily Claire's Birth:
I was 23 years old, and had had a perfectly normal, relatively easy pregnancy. I was young, healthy (though anemic, and taking extra iron to compensate), and ready to meet my first child. My weight gain had been weird (lost 8 pounds in the first trimester, gained those 8 back in the second, and then gained 8 more in the third), and I was all baby belly. Friends told me I was impossibly little everywhere other than my belly, and that I looked great. I, of course, felt gigantic, and I was ready to have my body back! Everyone told me that first babies tend to come after their due date, so I wasn't expecting to meet her as early as I did.
38 weeks pregnant!
I was 39 weeks and 1 day pregnant (according to my OB, 38 weeks and 6 days according to me) when, at around 4am on November 5th, 2010, I woke up with what felt like menstrual cramps. I tossed and turned in bed till 5-ish, trying to get comfortable, since it wasn't painful enough for me to really think anything of it. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and got up. I tried to go to sleep in the rocking chair, thinking that maybe a change of positions would make it go away. It didn't. In fact, it got worse. I started to think that maybe this could be the beginnings of labor, so I got up, drank a big glass of water (in case the cramping was caused by dehydration), and got in the shower to try to relax. Well, "relaxing" worked, and the pain started getting more intense. I started getting excited.
So, I went out into the living room (my husband Theo was still asleep), sat on my exercise/birthing ball, and got on my laptop to keep my mind off the achy pain. It felt like someone had my lower back and abdomen in a vise, and would squeeze every now and then, causing a sickening pain similar to when I was on my period, only 10 times worse. At about 6:30, I realized the pains were really close together, so I started timing them. They were 4-5 minutes apart, and lasting at least 45 seconds. These were labor contractions.
At 7:30, I went into the bedroom and woke Theo. He remained conscious long enough to download a contraction timer app on his phone, turn on a movie in our bedroom to distract me while I timed the contractions, and fell back asleep. This was my first labor, and we were fully expecting a few false alarms before the real thing happened, so he wasn't really taking it seriously. Yet. At 8, I woke him again and told him the contractions had been regular for an hour and a half, and they were getting really intense and lasting longer. I don't think I've ever seen him move as fast as he did getting out of bed and dressed that morning!
I called my mom to let her know what was happening, got myself dressed, and we grabbed the hospital bag and headed off! We only lived about a mile from the hospital (yay!), so I was comforted by the fact that if this was a false alarm, or if they sent me away to labor at home for awhile longer, at least we didn't have a long drive. We got there around 8:30, and of course the nurse advised me the since this was my first baby, I shouldn't get my hopes up, I wasn't even at my due date yet, blah blah blah.....
At my last OB appointment, I had been dilated to 2cm and 75% effaced. When the L&D nurse checked me that morning, I was dilated to 3cm and 90% effaced. I was in labor and progressing! She hooked me up to the monitors and said they'd keep me for an hour and check me again. If I had progressed, they'd admit me; if not, they would send me home until things really got moving. An hour later, I had dilated another 1/2cm. They admitted me.
The pain started getting really bad around 10:30, and I consented to some iv pain meds. My plan had been to try for a natural labor, and I REALLY didn't want an epidural, but the pain was making me throw up uncontrollably, and I couldn't relax and breathe through the contractions (which were lasting upwards of a minute by then and frighteningly intense). The nurse told me the Stadol would help me relax and maybe get some rest, and quit tensing against the contractions. She also offered me anti-nausea meds to try to stop the vomiting. I consented. BIG mistake. The anti-nausea meds did absolutely nothing, and all the pain meds did was make me loopy and unable to focus. If anything, I felt worse.
It was around noon, when I was dilated to 4 1/2cm and fully effaced, when I caved in and asked for the epidural. I was still vomiting, even though there was nothing left in my stomach, and I was terrified I wouldn't be able to push if I was throwing up. My worst fear was (and still is) a C-section, so I was going to do everything I could to make sure I could push and have my baby vaginally. It was AGONY, waiting that half hour until they got my epidural going. I was loopy, confused, vomiting, in pain, and a nervous first-time mommy. I couldn't walk around to ease the pain, because I was hooked up to an iv for fluids due to the vomiting, so I was tossing in the hospital bed, trying to get comfortable.
My husband was fabulous, and stayed calm through it all, though he did have to sit down and avert his eyes with the needle went in for the epidural. Numbness came almost instantly, and within 5 minutes of being settled back into bed, I was numb from the belly down. I couldn't even wiggle my toes. The vomiting stopped, and I relaxed and tried to mentally prepare myself for the fact that I was going to meet my daughter in just a few hours.
They checked me around 1, and I was at 5cm. I had a couple visitors (my family, and a dear friend of the family), and kicked back and relaxed, watching the giant contractions (that I could no longer feel) on the monitor and laughing. At 2pm or so, I was dilated to 6cm and my OB broke my water, commenting that I had very thick membranes that probably wouldn't have broken on their own. (I didn't feel that breaking my water was necessary, as my labor was progressing fine, but I didn't question it at the time.) Half an hour later, I was feeling pressure, like I wanted to push, even through the complete numbness of the epidural. I told the nurse, who checked me, and informed me that I was completely dilated and ready to push! I had gone through transition, dilating 4cm, in half an hour! In shock, I allowed them to prep the room, put my legs up in the supports/stirrups, and the told me to start pushing. I did. WOW.
If you've never given birth, the only way I can describe pushing is to say that it's like having a massive BM. You use the exact same muscles in childbirth. My epidural was starting to wear off by then, so I did feel some pain, but I was so focused on pushing that it didn't even phase me. The OB barely made it in time. I pushed once for her, and Emily's head was out. Her little shoulders were so narrow that I didn't have to push again to deliver the rest of her, and she just slid right on out into the OB's hands, and was put right onto my chest! Theo was caught off guard since it happened so VERY fast, and his first reaction to seeing his daughter was, " Whoa! WHOA!" I couldn't help but laugh as I greeted my firstborn.
She was beautiful. Red, slimy, screaming, with a deformed head from being dropped so low in my pelvis for a month, and SCREAMING, but still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. They cleaned her off right there on my chest and let us bond for a bit while Theo cut the cord (which really surprised me, since he wasn't sure he wanted to), before whisking her away to weigh and measure her. She weighed 7 pounds, 1.8 ounces, and was 19 1/4 inches long. She was the picture of health, and I was completely in love with her.
Brand-new Emily Claire!
I had a 3rd degree perineal tear (which, for some reason, my OB said was only a 2nd degree, but the midwife who delivered my 2nd child informed me that the scar tissue showed it had been 3rd) that needed stitches, but since I had the epidural, I didn't feel a thing. In fact, I didn't even realize I had torn and was getting stitches, because I was too busy having my picture taken and watching Theo take Emily's picture.
We stayed in the hospital until Sunday morning (Emily was born at 3:02pm on Friday) before taking her home. Recovering from the tear was the worst part of the whole thing, especially that first week. But Em is absolutely worth it. She's 2 years old now, and my pride and joy.
1-week-old Emily
Even though her birth wasn't exactly what I had wanted it to be, and it spurred me to choose a midwife for my second pregnancy and delivery, I wouldn't change it, because I learned so much about myself and what's really important: a healthy mama and baby. We have that, and so much more!
Emily and Mama
Margaret (Meg) Elisabeth's Birth:
I was (am) 25, and at the time I gave birth, Emily was 25 months old. This pregnancy was much more difficult, though still a "healthy" pregnancy. I started having Braxton Hicks contractions at 12 weeks, and they never really went away. I was in pre-labor for 3 weeks before Meg was born, and it was so intense at one point that we actually went to the hospital, though I was sent home because it wasn't active labor. I walked around dilated to 4cm (wow!!) for 3 weeks before I really went into labor. Of course, the situation was made so much more difficult by the fact that I had a 2-year-old to take care of, and we were moving! We did all the packing and cleaning, found a house (our first house), and moved, all during my final trimester of pregnancy! 8 days after we moved in, I went into labor. Crazy!
38 weeks and 1 day pregnant with Meg! Much bigger this time!
At 2am on December 8th, 2012, I was 38 weeks and 6 days pregnant, and I woke up with serious contractions. Because I had been in pre-labor for so long, we were half an hour from the hospital, and I knew I was already dilated to 4, I didn't waste any time getting out my phone and timing my contractions. At 2:30, I got up, because they were already 3-4 minutes apart and growing more intense. I told Theo I was going to take a shower, just in case, but that I was pretty sure this was it. At 3am I was out of the shower, in terrible pain from the super-strong contractions, and I called my Mom and told her we were going to the hospital. My best friend is living with us right now, and had agreed to get up and keep an ear out for sleeping Emily until Mom could get to our house to take care of her. We got in the car and made the half hour drive to the hospital. I was seriously nauseous, and the contractions were far more intense than I had felt in my first labor. Car rides while in labor really suck! I was already considering the epidural.
When we got to the hospital at 3:45-ish, I barely made it into L&D triage before I threw up. I was devastated. I had wanted to do it without the epidural this time, but the pain was so bad, and I was vomiting again, so I told them I wanted it. They checked me, and I was at 4 1/2cm and completely effaced already. They moved me to a L&D room and called for the anesthesiologist to do my epidural.
When describing my previous labor and what that epidural felt like, they informed me that that had been a full-on SPINAL epidural, which was not what I had thought, and definitely not what I wanted this time. They gave me the low-dose walking epidural, so I would still be able to move around, and it was more likely to just dull the pain instead of completely removing it. I was thrilled, because I really wanted to go as natural as I could.
They gave me a little bit of a muscle relaxer in my iv (fluids again; dang that vomiting!) to help me relax while I was sitting perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for the epidural. Sitting like that was absolute agony, and I was having to vocalize through my contractions to cope with them. It was terrible. I had to stay still so they could monitor Meg's heartbeat (mandatory 20 minutes of monitoring before they could take it off), monitor my contractions, get my iv in, check my blood pressure, and prep me for the epidural. I was shaking so hard, I was afraid I would fall off the bed, and I couldn't focus on the contractions, because I was having to sign forms for the epidural, answer questions about my labor so far, and the like. If I had been left alone to just labor, I bet I wouldn't have needed the epidural. Looking back, if I had known just how close to pushing I really was, I probably would have called off the epidural and asked to walk around. But I didn't know how close I was. All I knew was that I was hurting, and I needed some relief so they could let me be.
I finally got the epidural and laid down on my side to let it set in around 5:15am. They kept checking to see if I was getting numb, but all that went numb were my thighs (big help), and the pain in my belly was dulled enough that I stopped vomiting. I still felt the contractions and the pelvic pain and pressure.
At 5:30, my eyes popped open wide, I grabbed onto the bed rail, writhing, and declared, "I need to push!" The nurse calmly answered that I was probably in transition and just feeling the pressure of the baby coming down, but I told her, "No. You don't understand. My body IS pushing, and I can't stop it. I HAVE to bear down!" She frantically called for the midwife (whose name, funny enough, was Margaret) and told me not to push if I could help it (HAH!) until she checked me.
Margaret arrived seconds later and checked me. I was fully dilated (with a very slight cervical lip) and my bag of waters was bulging. She said she was going to break my water, because the waters bulging out were preventing Meg's head from engaging properly, and then it would be time to push! In the 90 minutes it had taken them to get me into a room, get my epidural, and let me lie down, I had dilated from 4 1/2cm to a full 10cm! Talk about fast!
I pushed for about half an hour or so, sometimes on my side, sometimes on my back, depending on what felt right at the time. No stirrups or anything. Just me and Theo and a nurse holding my legs, an oxygen mask to help me breathe at one point (I did NOT like that, and ripped it off, much to the amusement of one of my nurses), and Margaret pushing back the cervical lip and coaching me. Theo gave me water when I needed it between contractions, and I just went into this zone and focused on pushing, vocalizing through the pain, and bringing my baby into the world.
I was not numb AT ALL in the pelvis. I felt everything. This was pretty much the natural labor I had wanted, except for my inner thighs and my belly (sort of), and it HURT. They aren't kidding when they say that you'll know when it's time to push. My body completely took over, and I couldn't have stopped pushing if I had wanted to. I think I said, "I can't," at one point, because pushing really, really hurts, but Theo kept updating me on my progress ("I can see her head," etc.), and it kept me strong. It was the most intense, emotional half hour of my life.
Finally, Margaret announced that her head was coming, and I gave one last hefty push. Margaret caught her head, held her there, and said, "Here you go, Mama!" Without even thinking, I reached down, grabbed my baby (who was still halfway inside me), and pulled her up onto my chest. I can't even begin to describe how amazing that was. Meg didn't even cry; she just laid there blinking up at me, and it was amazing. They waited a few minutes before wiping her down and suctioning her mouth and nose, and it was awhile before Theo even cut the cord. I think I held her for nearly half an hour before they took her to be weighed, and they gave her back mere minutes later. I loved it. She was 8 pounds, 6 ounces, and 21 inches long. Much bigger than her big sis, and boy, did they look alike right after birth!
Our brand-new Margaret Elisabeth
I had torn again, right along the scar tissue from my previous tear, but this was only a 2nd degree. Margaret gave me a little shot to help numb the area while she repaired the tear, but I barely felt a thing anyway, I was so focused on Meg. Adrenaline is great! We only stayed in the hospital one night this time, since Meg was born so early in the morning (5:57am), and we just wanted to get home and settle in with our girls.
1-week-old Meg
Recovery was much faster this time for some reason, but I'm not complaining! Meg is such a sweet baby, and she and her sister get along great so far!
Me and my girls
Our family feels so complete (for now), and we're loving being a quartet!
First Christmas as a family of 4!
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There we go! Both of my birth stories, in one gigantic blog post! If/When I have more babies, maybe I'll be more on top of things, and they'll get their own separate posts. =D
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Emily Claire's Birth:
I was 23 years old, and had had a perfectly normal, relatively easy pregnancy. I was young, healthy (though anemic, and taking extra iron to compensate), and ready to meet my first child. My weight gain had been weird (lost 8 pounds in the first trimester, gained those 8 back in the second, and then gained 8 more in the third), and I was all baby belly. Friends told me I was impossibly little everywhere other than my belly, and that I looked great. I, of course, felt gigantic, and I was ready to have my body back! Everyone told me that first babies tend to come after their due date, so I wasn't expecting to meet her as early as I did.
I was 39 weeks and 1 day pregnant (according to my OB, 38 weeks and 6 days according to me) when, at around 4am on November 5th, 2010, I woke up with what felt like menstrual cramps. I tossed and turned in bed till 5-ish, trying to get comfortable, since it wasn't painful enough for me to really think anything of it. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and got up. I tried to go to sleep in the rocking chair, thinking that maybe a change of positions would make it go away. It didn't. In fact, it got worse. I started to think that maybe this could be the beginnings of labor, so I got up, drank a big glass of water (in case the cramping was caused by dehydration), and got in the shower to try to relax. Well, "relaxing" worked, and the pain started getting more intense. I started getting excited.
So, I went out into the living room (my husband Theo was still asleep), sat on my exercise/birthing ball, and got on my laptop to keep my mind off the achy pain. It felt like someone had my lower back and abdomen in a vise, and would squeeze every now and then, causing a sickening pain similar to when I was on my period, only 10 times worse. At about 6:30, I realized the pains were really close together, so I started timing them. They were 4-5 minutes apart, and lasting at least 45 seconds. These were labor contractions.
At 7:30, I went into the bedroom and woke Theo. He remained conscious long enough to download a contraction timer app on his phone, turn on a movie in our bedroom to distract me while I timed the contractions, and fell back asleep. This was my first labor, and we were fully expecting a few false alarms before the real thing happened, so he wasn't really taking it seriously. Yet. At 8, I woke him again and told him the contractions had been regular for an hour and a half, and they were getting really intense and lasting longer. I don't think I've ever seen him move as fast as he did getting out of bed and dressed that morning!
I called my mom to let her know what was happening, got myself dressed, and we grabbed the hospital bag and headed off! We only lived about a mile from the hospital (yay!), so I was comforted by the fact that if this was a false alarm, or if they sent me away to labor at home for awhile longer, at least we didn't have a long drive. We got there around 8:30, and of course the nurse advised me the since this was my first baby, I shouldn't get my hopes up, I wasn't even at my due date yet, blah blah blah.....
At my last OB appointment, I had been dilated to 2cm and 75% effaced. When the L&D nurse checked me that morning, I was dilated to 3cm and 90% effaced. I was in labor and progressing! She hooked me up to the monitors and said they'd keep me for an hour and check me again. If I had progressed, they'd admit me; if not, they would send me home until things really got moving. An hour later, I had dilated another 1/2cm. They admitted me.
The pain started getting really bad around 10:30, and I consented to some iv pain meds. My plan had been to try for a natural labor, and I REALLY didn't want an epidural, but the pain was making me throw up uncontrollably, and I couldn't relax and breathe through the contractions (which were lasting upwards of a minute by then and frighteningly intense). The nurse told me the Stadol would help me relax and maybe get some rest, and quit tensing against the contractions. She also offered me anti-nausea meds to try to stop the vomiting. I consented. BIG mistake. The anti-nausea meds did absolutely nothing, and all the pain meds did was make me loopy and unable to focus. If anything, I felt worse.
It was around noon, when I was dilated to 4 1/2cm and fully effaced, when I caved in and asked for the epidural. I was still vomiting, even though there was nothing left in my stomach, and I was terrified I wouldn't be able to push if I was throwing up. My worst fear was (and still is) a C-section, so I was going to do everything I could to make sure I could push and have my baby vaginally. It was AGONY, waiting that half hour until they got my epidural going. I was loopy, confused, vomiting, in pain, and a nervous first-time mommy. I couldn't walk around to ease the pain, because I was hooked up to an iv for fluids due to the vomiting, so I was tossing in the hospital bed, trying to get comfortable.
My husband was fabulous, and stayed calm through it all, though he did have to sit down and avert his eyes with the needle went in for the epidural. Numbness came almost instantly, and within 5 minutes of being settled back into bed, I was numb from the belly down. I couldn't even wiggle my toes. The vomiting stopped, and I relaxed and tried to mentally prepare myself for the fact that I was going to meet my daughter in just a few hours.
They checked me around 1, and I was at 5cm. I had a couple visitors (my family, and a dear friend of the family), and kicked back and relaxed, watching the giant contractions (that I could no longer feel) on the monitor and laughing. At 2pm or so, I was dilated to 6cm and my OB broke my water, commenting that I had very thick membranes that probably wouldn't have broken on their own. (I didn't feel that breaking my water was necessary, as my labor was progressing fine, but I didn't question it at the time.) Half an hour later, I was feeling pressure, like I wanted to push, even through the complete numbness of the epidural. I told the nurse, who checked me, and informed me that I was completely dilated and ready to push! I had gone through transition, dilating 4cm, in half an hour! In shock, I allowed them to prep the room, put my legs up in the supports/stirrups, and the told me to start pushing. I did. WOW.
If you've never given birth, the only way I can describe pushing is to say that it's like having a massive BM. You use the exact same muscles in childbirth. My epidural was starting to wear off by then, so I did feel some pain, but I was so focused on pushing that it didn't even phase me. The OB barely made it in time. I pushed once for her, and Emily's head was out. Her little shoulders were so narrow that I didn't have to push again to deliver the rest of her, and she just slid right on out into the OB's hands, and was put right onto my chest! Theo was caught off guard since it happened so VERY fast, and his first reaction to seeing his daughter was, " Whoa! WHOA!" I couldn't help but laugh as I greeted my firstborn.
She was beautiful. Red, slimy, screaming, with a deformed head from being dropped so low in my pelvis for a month, and SCREAMING, but still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. They cleaned her off right there on my chest and let us bond for a bit while Theo cut the cord (which really surprised me, since he wasn't sure he wanted to), before whisking her away to weigh and measure her. She weighed 7 pounds, 1.8 ounces, and was 19 1/4 inches long. She was the picture of health, and I was completely in love with her.
I had a 3rd degree perineal tear (which, for some reason, my OB said was only a 2nd degree, but the midwife who delivered my 2nd child informed me that the scar tissue showed it had been 3rd) that needed stitches, but since I had the epidural, I didn't feel a thing. In fact, I didn't even realize I had torn and was getting stitches, because I was too busy having my picture taken and watching Theo take Emily's picture.
We stayed in the hospital until Sunday morning (Emily was born at 3:02pm on Friday) before taking her home. Recovering from the tear was the worst part of the whole thing, especially that first week. But Em is absolutely worth it. She's 2 years old now, and my pride and joy.
Even though her birth wasn't exactly what I had wanted it to be, and it spurred me to choose a midwife for my second pregnancy and delivery, I wouldn't change it, because I learned so much about myself and what's really important: a healthy mama and baby. We have that, and so much more!
Margaret (Meg) Elisabeth's Birth:
I was (am) 25, and at the time I gave birth, Emily was 25 months old. This pregnancy was much more difficult, though still a "healthy" pregnancy. I started having Braxton Hicks contractions at 12 weeks, and they never really went away. I was in pre-labor for 3 weeks before Meg was born, and it was so intense at one point that we actually went to the hospital, though I was sent home because it wasn't active labor. I walked around dilated to 4cm (wow!!) for 3 weeks before I really went into labor. Of course, the situation was made so much more difficult by the fact that I had a 2-year-old to take care of, and we were moving! We did all the packing and cleaning, found a house (our first house), and moved, all during my final trimester of pregnancy! 8 days after we moved in, I went into labor. Crazy!
At 2am on December 8th, 2012, I was 38 weeks and 6 days pregnant, and I woke up with serious contractions. Because I had been in pre-labor for so long, we were half an hour from the hospital, and I knew I was already dilated to 4, I didn't waste any time getting out my phone and timing my contractions. At 2:30, I got up, because they were already 3-4 minutes apart and growing more intense. I told Theo I was going to take a shower, just in case, but that I was pretty sure this was it. At 3am I was out of the shower, in terrible pain from the super-strong contractions, and I called my Mom and told her we were going to the hospital. My best friend is living with us right now, and had agreed to get up and keep an ear out for sleeping Emily until Mom could get to our house to take care of her. We got in the car and made the half hour drive to the hospital. I was seriously nauseous, and the contractions were far more intense than I had felt in my first labor. Car rides while in labor really suck! I was already considering the epidural.
When we got to the hospital at 3:45-ish, I barely made it into L&D triage before I threw up. I was devastated. I had wanted to do it without the epidural this time, but the pain was so bad, and I was vomiting again, so I told them I wanted it. They checked me, and I was at 4 1/2cm and completely effaced already. They moved me to a L&D room and called for the anesthesiologist to do my epidural.
When describing my previous labor and what that epidural felt like, they informed me that that had been a full-on SPINAL epidural, which was not what I had thought, and definitely not what I wanted this time. They gave me the low-dose walking epidural, so I would still be able to move around, and it was more likely to just dull the pain instead of completely removing it. I was thrilled, because I really wanted to go as natural as I could.
They gave me a little bit of a muscle relaxer in my iv (fluids again; dang that vomiting!) to help me relax while I was sitting perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for the epidural. Sitting like that was absolute agony, and I was having to vocalize through my contractions to cope with them. It was terrible. I had to stay still so they could monitor Meg's heartbeat (mandatory 20 minutes of monitoring before they could take it off), monitor my contractions, get my iv in, check my blood pressure, and prep me for the epidural. I was shaking so hard, I was afraid I would fall off the bed, and I couldn't focus on the contractions, because I was having to sign forms for the epidural, answer questions about my labor so far, and the like. If I had been left alone to just labor, I bet I wouldn't have needed the epidural. Looking back, if I had known just how close to pushing I really was, I probably would have called off the epidural and asked to walk around. But I didn't know how close I was. All I knew was that I was hurting, and I needed some relief so they could let me be.
I finally got the epidural and laid down on my side to let it set in around 5:15am. They kept checking to see if I was getting numb, but all that went numb were my thighs (big help), and the pain in my belly was dulled enough that I stopped vomiting. I still felt the contractions and the pelvic pain and pressure.
At 5:30, my eyes popped open wide, I grabbed onto the bed rail, writhing, and declared, "I need to push!" The nurse calmly answered that I was probably in transition and just feeling the pressure of the baby coming down, but I told her, "No. You don't understand. My body IS pushing, and I can't stop it. I HAVE to bear down!" She frantically called for the midwife (whose name, funny enough, was Margaret) and told me not to push if I could help it (HAH!) until she checked me.
Margaret arrived seconds later and checked me. I was fully dilated (with a very slight cervical lip) and my bag of waters was bulging. She said she was going to break my water, because the waters bulging out were preventing Meg's head from engaging properly, and then it would be time to push! In the 90 minutes it had taken them to get me into a room, get my epidural, and let me lie down, I had dilated from 4 1/2cm to a full 10cm! Talk about fast!
I pushed for about half an hour or so, sometimes on my side, sometimes on my back, depending on what felt right at the time. No stirrups or anything. Just me and Theo and a nurse holding my legs, an oxygen mask to help me breathe at one point (I did NOT like that, and ripped it off, much to the amusement of one of my nurses), and Margaret pushing back the cervical lip and coaching me. Theo gave me water when I needed it between contractions, and I just went into this zone and focused on pushing, vocalizing through the pain, and bringing my baby into the world.
I was not numb AT ALL in the pelvis. I felt everything. This was pretty much the natural labor I had wanted, except for my inner thighs and my belly (sort of), and it HURT. They aren't kidding when they say that you'll know when it's time to push. My body completely took over, and I couldn't have stopped pushing if I had wanted to. I think I said, "I can't," at one point, because pushing really, really hurts, but Theo kept updating me on my progress ("I can see her head," etc.), and it kept me strong. It was the most intense, emotional half hour of my life.
Finally, Margaret announced that her head was coming, and I gave one last hefty push. Margaret caught her head, held her there, and said, "Here you go, Mama!" Without even thinking, I reached down, grabbed my baby (who was still halfway inside me), and pulled her up onto my chest. I can't even begin to describe how amazing that was. Meg didn't even cry; she just laid there blinking up at me, and it was amazing. They waited a few minutes before wiping her down and suctioning her mouth and nose, and it was awhile before Theo even cut the cord. I think I held her for nearly half an hour before they took her to be weighed, and they gave her back mere minutes later. I loved it. She was 8 pounds, 6 ounces, and 21 inches long. Much bigger than her big sis, and boy, did they look alike right after birth!
I had torn again, right along the scar tissue from my previous tear, but this was only a 2nd degree. Margaret gave me a little shot to help numb the area while she repaired the tear, but I barely felt a thing anyway, I was so focused on Meg. Adrenaline is great! We only stayed in the hospital one night this time, since Meg was born so early in the morning (5:57am), and we just wanted to get home and settle in with our girls.
Recovery was much faster this time for some reason, but I'm not complaining! Meg is such a sweet baby, and she and her sister get along great so far!
Our family feels so complete (for now), and we're loving being a quartet!
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There we go! Both of my birth stories, in one gigantic blog post! If/When I have more babies, maybe I'll be more on top of things, and they'll get their own separate posts. =D
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