As I write this, I am still in disbelief that our little one is here. His arrival was not anything like I had envisioned, which is how most births turn out, I suppose...
My water broke right after contractions started on Tuesday night a little before 7 pm. They were completely tolerable, and Nate and I went for a walk and then came home and started watching a movie. I mostly rested, and the intensity of the contractions picked up to a point where I had to start focusing on getting through them. Around 1am, they were about 3 minutes apart, about a minute in duration, and had been going on that way for over an hour. Nate made the executive decision that we were headed to the hospital.
At this point, I couldn't really do much other than continue trying to relax. We arrived at Aurora Sinai and checked in, and I was prepared to hear that I wasn't dilated that much, so as to not get my expectations too high. I was at 1.5 centimeters after six hours, and I was okay with that. Then, we headed up stairs to the labor and delivery unit where we asked if they could fill the jacuzzi tub to help relieve the pain. I got in, Nate put on Radiohead's King of Limbs album, and I settled into a nice pattern of contractions that were easy to relax through because of the warmth of the water.
I ended up getting out a bit later and we went for a couple of laps around the floor to move things along. The intensity picked up, and I was having a hard time getting through these. The heat from the water provided a lot of relief, so I got into the tub in our hospital room. They were coming closer and closer together and the intensity and duration was increasing. I felt like throwing up several times, but never did. Some of them felt as though they were coming one on top of the other. Contractions are such a difficult thing to describe. When they're not happening, everything is fine. But when one comes on, the feeling of it just radiates and pulses throughout my abdomen. And then it lets up, and I patiently wait for the next one to come...
At this point, it was early morning and the sun was coming up and I was almost 12 hours into labor. The idea was to have an unmedicated childbirth, and I felt as though we were on that road. It wasn't going to be much longer until I was in the transition part of labor. In fact, I thought that I was in transition with how fast and furious the contractions were coming. Our midwife showed up and checked me--3 centimeters. What??!? At this point, I was frustrated and disappointed. She suggested that I walk around some more and try some different positions to keep the contractions coming. Nate and I agreed, and for the next few hours, I walked around, tried the birthing ball, and really visualized this whole thing progressing. All the while, I was bleeding pretty regularly.
Our midwife came back in around 11am to check me again. By the way, getting checked during labor is extremely uncomfortable--like to the point of tears. Anyway, Nichole announced that I was at 4 centimeters and 75% effaced. At this point, 16 hours into labor, I lost it. I cried and cried (in between contractions) and looked at Nate for some sort of relief. I think I wanted him to say to me, "Yes, let's get the epidural." I said, "I cannot do this! Four f*&@ing centimeters in 16 hours?? I'm not even halfway!" Thank goodness that Nate knows me because he was able to convince me to try for another four hours as Nichole had suggested and then see where we were at. I was devastated, but also willing to just go a little bit longer and then make a decision.
So, I slipped into super relaxation mode. I was so relaxed that I was hardly making any sounds during the contractions, even though they were as intense as ever. Nate was able to fall asleep on the couch in the room as I labored, pacing the floor and pausing every time one came. I was in my own world, and when Nate woke up, he asked me why I wasn't as vocal. I responded, "I'm in a different place."
Finally, at 2pm, Nichole came in again to check. The verdict was that I had made little progress--I think I was at 4.5 cm. I really, really had tried, and wasn't getting anywhere. Nineteen hours of unmedicated labor with such crappy progress was enough. I was exhausted, and I felt as though I had seriously given this my best shot. We made the call to do an epidural in the hopes that it would help me relax even further and open up. At 2pm, the anesthesiologist showed up and got right to work.
Epidurals are gross. I still get weak knees thinking about it. The anesthesiologist had to move the needle around quite a bit to find that perfect spot, and that was really uncomfortable. But, he ended up doing a great job because when it came time to push, I could definitely feel the contractions enough to know when they were coming.
Epidural in. Can't feel my legs. Can't feel anything, really. I nap out hard for over 2 hours. I wake up, and I'm at 5 centimeters with Jello legs. I'm wondering what the hell is wrong with me at this point. Why can't I progress? Poor engineering? I had an OB/GYN tell me once that I would have an easy time with childbirth because of how much room I had in my pelvis. Well, this was not exactly easy. Because we were approaching the 24-hour mark since my bag of waters had ruptured, Nichole had to make some decisions. She ordered Pitocin in order to stimulate more contractions which would in turn dilate my cervix. I didn't really mind at this point, mostly because I knew that Nate and I had made a very informed decision about the epidural, and more importantly, I had given this my best shot.
11:30pm--time to start pushing! Twenty-eight hours after this whole ordeal started, I made it to 10 centimeters! I'm thinking that pushing is going to be a breeze compared to what I just went though. NOPE. I pushed for 3 1/2 hours. I am super grateful that I was in the best shape of my life before I got pregnant and that I continued to work out at the gym on a very consistent basis throughout the pregnancy.
Hmm...how to describe pushing something the size of a watermelon through something that's not the size of a watermelon??? At one point, I asked who had turned the epidural off, but quite honestly, I'm glad I was able to feel all the contractions while pushing. This was a pretty intense part of labor, and like everything else during this experience, it wasn't what I was expecting. I changed positions frequently, and Nate was by my side the whole time, quietly encouraging me.
I didn't know this at the time, but baby's heart rate was, at certain times, reaching peaks of 200 bpm. It would slowly build with each contraction and then drop to around 70 bpm after the contraction was over. I clearly recall Nichole getting very firm with me near the end, saying, "Robyn, this baby needs to come out now. It's time for baby to come out." I really thought it was never going to end and that this baby was going to split me in two distinct pieces, but at long last, there was tremendous relief as baby came out. I laughed and cried at the same time, completely overwhelmed at what had just happened. Baby immediately was put on my chest per our request, and they dried him off. Then we remembered that we needed to know the gender, so they picked him up and Nate got to announce that Mr. Belvedere was a boy!
In what seemed like 5 minutes, baby spent the next hour on my chest as Nichole attended to all the stuff that happens afterward. We just stared at him as he cried, and I tried to breastfeed him. He didn't latch on right away, but we had lots of skin-to-skin contact. I immediately delivered the placenta after he was born and I don't recall how that felt at all. I was so engrossed in our little guy.
Okay, so why did this all take so long? Turns out, Weston (who was nameless for quite sometime after his birth) had his ankle wrapped around the umbilical cord right next to the placenta, which was located just under my right rib cage. When he came out, he had a deep red mark on his foot where the cord was wrapped (he's fine now). The theory is this: every time I had contractions or was trying to push, the placenta was pulling him back in. He was also slowly pulling the placenta away from the uterine wall during labor, so that's probably why I bled a lot and why the placenta delivered so quickly. Of course, I could be totally wrong about all this, but that's what was hinted at after the delivery. When I see my midwife again in a few weeks, I'll get the details.
In the end, it was the perfect labor and delivery. I required no stitches and had a very small tear that has healed on its own. Weston was just as exhausted as I was, and he had a couple of battle wounds on the back of his head from the ordeal, but most importantly, we have a beautiful baby boy that made it into this world safely.
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