I wrote L’s birth story five weeks from his birth. It took me a while to process it. In fact, it took me until my next pregnancy. His was a difficult labour. He made me work hard. And, four years later, he continues to make me work hard. Here is his story in its raw form:
I started writing with the intention of writing L’s birth story, but I’m not sure I’m ready. L’s birth did not go as smoothly as I had hoped. After the relative smoothness of A’s birth, I had been expecting that this birth would follow suit. But it did not. In the end, everything worked out fine, but it was much harder than I anticipated it would be. When they say that every labour and birth is different, they are not lying. But I will try. And to do that, I suppose I need to start from the beginning…
Starting at 38 weeks, I had had several nights of mild contractions. Four separate times of 8+ hours of them with them getting close enough that I thought they were going somewhere. I would lay down to rest, and they would stop. Prodomal labour. It was frustrating.
My mom decided to come up for a week when I hit 40 weeks in hopes that baby would come when she was up. She was my help for the boys during labour, but she had to be back home for the end of the month for work. At 40 weeks and 5 days, I had a midwife appointment. Both of my midwives happened to be at the office and I chatted with them about how tired I was of the prodomal labour and how my mom was in town until the following day. My midwife from A’s birth also reminded me that she was going on holidays in two days so if I went into labour after that my other midwife would attend my birth. Now, don’t get me wrong. Both midwives were excellent, but I had connected so well with Megan that I knew I wanted her to be there this time too. I had my midwife check me and we talked about how I was slightly dilated and very effaced, but that baby wasn’t fully engaged yet (though he was in a good position otherwise). I left that appointment feeling defeated after all that prodomal labour.
I went to my chiropractor appointment, and received a text from my midwife asking if I would consider taking lemon verbena to help push things along. She thought my body was trying to do it, but just needed something to help. After a lot of heartfelt talk with a couple of trusted friends and my partner, we decided we would try it. I very much believe in letting baby choose their own birthdays when possible, but with the likeliness of another big baby, and with my mom leaving the next day, I decided that I would try it. If it worked, great. If not, then that was fine too. So, I picked it up and all the supplies to mix up a lemon verbena smoothie, and headed home.
Back at home, I mixed up the drink and gagged it down. The taste was awful. My doulas (J and K) told me they’d see me soon. Within an hour and a half, contractions started. They were mild at first, but regular and definitely not just crampy. I didn’t say anything to my partner yet, but I started timing them. By 9:30, they were getting closer together and longer. I texted my midwife to let her know. My doulas came over and we went for a walk together. Once back, we sat and chatted as the contractions slowly got stronger. I sat and rocked on the exercise ball until one point where I jumped up and said, “nope, I can’t sit there anymore.”
By 11:30 or 12, I told my partner he needed to get the pool going. He did but ended up using the dirty water hose meant for draining it to start filling it. Luckily, we caught him not long after he started that and him and my mom were able to drain it, clean it, and refill with the proper hose. While they dealt with the pool, I laboured on the exercise ball with my doulas. By about 12:30 or 12:45, my contractions were very intense and I barely squeaked out “he needs to call Megan” (my midwife). Shortly after that, I needed to get to the pool right then. I took the (what seemed like) long walk to my bedroom and slid into the not quite full enough pool.
By 1 am, I immediately felt like I needed to push. But how could I push?! My midwife and my photographer were not there yet! My partner and my doulas assured me that they were coming as I pushed. At this point, I felt like he was “right there.” I yelled that out to my doulas as I pushed again and felt something come out of me. Terrified it was the baby’s head, I felt down and realized it was just my bag of waters. J was on the phone with my midwife and realized the same thing I did.
Shortly after that, my midwife and photographer arrived! I was so relieved. I pushed for what seemed like forever, saying things like “I can’t do this” and “please help me” all mixed up with quite a lot of swearing. I remember J, K, and my partner trying to remind me to be positive. I also remember telling my partner to stop talking. My midwife asked me if I was just talking or if I was trying to tell her I actually needed help. I told her that I didn’t actually need help (even though part of me was scared I did). It was hard, harder than any of my other labours.
At some point, my midwife checked me and realized that I had a cervical lip. I had been pushing at this point for about an hour and a half. My cervix was swollen. They wanted me to get out of the pool, but I couldn’t really move. So, my entire support team lifted me to the floor where I had to blow through about 4 or 5 contractions and not push. Ha. That’s not really possible, but I did my best. Finally, my midwife said we could go again and I went back in the tub (partially lifted this time).
As I continued to push without feeling much success, my midwife said that he was stuck at my pubic bone and he was asynclitic. I felt myself deflate. E had been stuck. It had been my fear with A’s birth and was obviously still a fear. I kept pushing, but I felt my contractions start to slow down. I found myself almost napping between pushes, and I found my pushes weren’t entirely effective. Finally, my midwife said that we needed to get this baby out. She was getting worried. She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. I could sense it in her voice. She said we needed to move out of the tub and onto the bed. She explained that it seems counterintuitive, but that we needed give baby some space and help him get past the pubic bone. So, my support team again lifted me out of the pool and got me onto the bed. K took one leg, my partner took the other and they helped to hold them back while I pushed hard. Finally, he was past! A sense of relief flooded over me quickly followed by the realization that the work wasn’t over yet.
I asked for my mom to come in (she had been with A for the last hour or so). And then, using the fantastic back up midwife (Teilya) as my focal point, I pushed hard. Slowly, I felt him make his way. I reached down and felt his head, not yet out. With my support team encouraging me and my eyes on Teilya, I dug down deep and found the energy to push hard. At this point, I discovered that the ring of fire is definitely very real and not just a Johnny Cash song. Thanks to the water, I never felt it to that extent with A’s birth!
And then, after 3.5 hours of pushing, L was out and on my chest. A beautiful, vernix-covered baby boy that still had remnants of his amniotic sac covering his body. But I didn’t get the same peaceful snuggling that I did with A. Concerned because of the bleeding issues I had post A along with the sheer length of time I spent pushing, my midwife decided she needed to help my body with the placenta. This was something we had spoken about in our appointments, so I understood. My mom first cut the very thick cord. Then, while I held L, they gave me oxytocin and helped me deliver the (really huge) placenta.
And so, that’s the story of L’s birth. The story of how on June 27, 2014 at 4:29 am, little L arrived in our bedroom. He weighed 10 lbs 10 oz, was 19.5 inches long, and had a 15.75 inch head circumference. He was big! It was very hard work, and it didn’t quite happen the way I had hoped. But, I was treated with respect and it wasn’t traumatizing. So, even though it didn’t turn out the way I had hoped, I am happy. I had more support than I could have asked for and I don’t think I could have done it without them. I may not have come away from L’s birth feeling like the warrior I felt like after A’s, but that’s okay. As I look at the sweet baby boy that this hard work helped bring into the world, I am at peace with how it all happened.
