A Birth Story

Almost six weeks ago at 4:40am the newest member of our family entered this world. This joyful occasion happened after 61 hours of labor, including 6.5 hours of pushing. We were in a hospital, and I was laying on my back in bed. I was hooked up to penicillin and pitocin, and I had an epidural line in. There were people in the room I had only met hours previous. None of this was according to “plan,” but *for the most part* none of that mattered.

I’ve been wanting to write out the birth story, but most of the past six weeks have been spent with our little one nursing, or sleeping on me, or sleeping next to me while I am sleeping. So I have a lack of time, mental energy, and free hands these days. No complaints at all, I have thoroughly and truthfully been loving this special time as a new family of three (six with the kitties!) It has been so nice to use these weeks to bond, and to focus on just our family.

Sixty-one hours is a long time to do anything without much of a break. It is also a long time to remember. I remember the birth story in spurts of time- some of it remembered cohesively, and some of it remembered thanks to photos my doulas took throughout the process and texts that were sent from my phone. So here is some general remembering.

I remember feeling the early beginnings of labor on Friday evening. Jeremy and I went out for ice cream that night, our last night out without a baby to take care of. It was also the 4th time we got ice cream that week. I was really taking my midwife’s advice of “maybe limit sugar to one serving of fruit a day” to heart …

I remember walking to Starbucks, a few blocks down the street from our apartment, late Saturday morning. Labor was starting to pick up, but it was still early and I needed some distraction. Jeremy and I sat outside at Starbucks for a little while using their wifi, as ours had been down for almost a week.

I remember my doulas coming over around 3pm on Saturday. (This is what I consider the “beginning” of labor in terms of the 61 hours that it took.) The contractions were 3.5 minutes apart and close to one minute long, and things were starting to feel real to me. I needed emotional support more than anything, and we chatted and walked around the neighborhood.

Oscar therapy during a contraction. And that's a very looooow baby.

I remember my midwives coming by that evening, and then determining it was too early for them to be there. In hindsight, I know that at that point the contractions had stopped being regular. My doulas stayed all night and everyone tried to get some sleep. I know that I was able to sleep a little bit.

Sleep, with Oscar

I barely remember Sunday. Labor was happening, but it was slow. My midwives came by again, and left again, and my doulas left as well; Jer and I spent much of the day working through labor together. We also had a chiropractor come by for an hour in an effort to encourage labor to progress. I was very in the moment the entire day, and was tolerating everything very well. Labor was hard work, but I was working towards a goal, so my mind was focused and I remained relaxed.

focus

I remember everyone coming back at 7pm Sunday night. I think I was around 7cm at that point (though I didn’t know it at the time. I had asked to not be told how far along I was at any time, I think it would have taken me out of the moment.) We spent a lot of time that night working through labor in different positions; our little one seemed to be turned a little funny, and we wanted him to get in the best position possible. I remember I also spent time dancing with Bruno Mars pumped up nice and loud.

Trying to get baby to shift. Looks peaceful, but this was the WORST.

I remember on Monday morning when it was was determined that there had been very minimal progress since the night before, (AKA, in hindsight, I was still at 7cm, even after everything we did throughout the night) and the idea of transferring to the hospital was brought up. Jeremy and I asked for more time, mainly because we just needed to process through the idea of letting go of our hope for a home birth.

I also remember the Internet technician coming over early Monday morning to (finally) fix our wifi. I was in the bedroom in fairly active labor and he was on the other side of the door fixing our Internet. I'm sure he had a story to tell when he got home that day.

I remember coming to terms with the need to transfer to a hospital. As the morning and early afternoon wore on, labor continued to not progress. The contractions were still irregular, and I was starting to not be able to focus through them. We tried literally every position possible to try to get the little one to shift into a more optimal position, and nothing had worked. I remember being thankful that I had diligently packed my "just in case" hospital bag a few weeks previous, even though at the time I didn't want to.

I remember justifying a hospital transfer while quietly processing through it and trying to manage contractions during our last hour at home. I kept telling myself why I needed the interventions, and that nothing would be done that wasn't a necessity. I needed Pitocin to help the contractions become regular. I requested an epidural because I felt like I was losing control and I was unable to continue to manage the contractions as well as I had been for the 48 hours previous. The epidural would serve multiple purposes- to helped my body relax and allow the little one to settle into the most optimal position. And sleep. I needed rest so that I had energy for the home stretch of labor.

I remember requesting to transfer to a specific hospital. I am thankful that we were not in an emergency situation, and that it was not rush hour. Thanks to those two factors we were able to go to my hospital of choice that was a bit farther away from our other back-up hospital.

I remember the epidural not being what I expected. I lost feeling in my abdomen, but I was still able to feel my legs- I was even squatting on the bed at one point (with help, of course). And by the time I was ready to push, I had most of my feeling back everywhere. Maybe that’s some people’s idea of a bad epidural experience, but as someone who was fully prepared for and who wanted to have a natural birth, it made me very happy.

I remember getting some sleep and feeling things start to pick up, and then hearing the nurse declare that I was fully dilated. I know I had a big smile on my face at that point. I couldn’t help it- after all this time I was finally going to push and then meet my baby! It’s really a good thing that I didn’t know it would be another 6.5 hours until our little one arrived.

I remember the intense feeling of pushing, and how it felt so much different than the contractions I had been feeling for the two days previous. It was hard work, but I could feel the progress that was involved, and that gave me strength to continue on for as long as necessary. I remember telling people a few times that labor was MUCH harder than running a marathon.

I remember barking orders to everyone around me to help with getting through each pushing contraction- “Counter pressure on my lower back! No not there- a little bit farther up and to the left! No not that far up!” “Someone grab my leg! Now! My leg! My leg! Leg! LEG! LEG!!!!” “Press harder on my back! Harder!” “Hold my leg up higher!” Looking back, I’m amazed at how coherent I was. Or maybe I wasn’t coherent, but I knew what I needed, and I was very demanding.

I remember the moment our little one made its appearance. I held my hands out so that I could hold my baby, and it felt like an eternity before our OB handed baby over (Jeremy says it was only a quick few seconds of waiting time). I remember holding this brand new baby to my chest and being exhilarated, and at the same time speaking so much nonsense. I became quite chatty, talking to our baby, and talking a lot. I don’t remember what I was saying, but I was not quiet.

I remember finding out the sex of our little one. It was only moments after we started skin-to-skin, and Jeremy was by my side. I looked up at Jer and asked if we had a name for our baby (because- backstory- at that point we only had a girl’s name that we agreed on.) He looked back at me, eyes glistening from these first few moments as a family of three, and said “no,” with a disbelief in his voice that came more from the events of the past 61 hours than from the lack of a name. 

We have a little boy, and our hearts have been growing exponentially since that moment.

So brand new.

Over 24 ours after our little one entered the world, we came back to a name that we had agreed on throughout most of my pregnancy, and actually most of our time as a married couple.

Harrison James came into the world weighing 9lbs 7oz (really!) and measuring 22 inches long. He has bright eyes, a fully head of dark hair, and cheeks for days.

We couldn't have had such a good birth experience without our midwives Monica, Molly, and Maral, our doulas Dana and Katie (Dana also took all of the above pictures), our nurse Tai, and our OB Dr. Lipeles. We also could not have had such straightforward prenatal and postpartum periods without our chiropractor Dr. Maura, and our childbirth educator and IBCLC Kim. There are not enough thank yous in the world.

Life is good.