Reggie's Birth

The morning of January 31st went as every other morning in January. I kissed Todd goodbye as he went to work and I continued to sleep in. When I woke up I worked out, had a shower, and got ready for the day. I noticed that I was passing my mucus plug after my workout and reminded myself that it didn't mean anything, as some women pass their plug and don't go into labor for weeks. Around 11 am I was finished with my morning routine and was ready to do my errands when I noticed I was feeling some contractions that were stronger than usual. I had been having contractions for several weeks, but these ones were making me feel like laying down and taking it easy. Instead of listening to my body, I listened to my brain that told me to get as much done before the baby comes and to not be a lazy bones. So I went to the pharmacy to drop off Todd's prescriptions and to my parents' house to do laundry because the dryer in our apartment was out of commission. On the drive to the pharmacy I kept talking myself through the contractions, saying that this is what everyone wants - for me to finally go into labor and have this baby. While at the pharmacy I noticed I was sullen-faced and serious, which should have been a sign to me that I was in active labor, but all of my books and pamphlets told me that in a textbook labor you have mild contractions for many hours before active labor. By 1:30 pm my contractions were averaging thirty to forty seconds at two minutes apart and they were painful. I know my Bradley Method and Ina May books never use the word "painful," but rather something along the lines of "hard work,"but I could not concentrate on anything except for how much pain I was in.

I tried walking around the house, a sort of child's pose, laying in my relaxed labor position the Bradley Method had taught me, sitting, etc. Every position felt awful, the pain felt overwhelming, and I found that moving made it feel worse. My water broke all over my clothes, so I decided to take a hot bath. I wasn't able to relax in the tub and quickly got out. My parents' house is freezing when no one is home, so I was wet and cold and laboring alone. I sat in my towel by a heater on the floor in one of the bedrooms and my water broke some more. The contractions were getting more intense and I was surprised by how strongly I felt like I could not handle this labor. I felt like every book I had read on labor had betrayed me. The Bradley book telling me that my body is wise, that it knows how to labor, that labor does not have to be painful, but that it is hard work and I just need to relax through it, and to imagine my uterus contracting to help open my cervix and later to push the baby down and out. I also felt like my own body had lied to me with the three previous weeks of frequent contractions that felt NOTHING like the contractions I was currently having. Picturing my uterus contracting, imagining my baby coming now, telling myself that my body knew what to do was not helpful. I was upset by the pain and just kept thinking that I did not want a baby and I did not want this pain to continue.

I called Todd at work around 2:30 pm to let him know where I was and that I needed him as soon as possible. By 3:30 pm Todd arrived with gatorade and our hospital bags. For an hour I stayed in that spot on the floor while he attempted various methods to coach and help me feel more comfortable. He was calm and while his words should have been reassuring, I was feeling irritable and frustrated more than anything. At 4:30 pm I told him that I wanted to go to the hospital and to call the doctor. The receptionist at my doctor's office asked who I was and said to one of her coworkers that I wasn't on the schedule. I wanted to scream at her that I was clearly in labor and so of course I wasn't on the schedule. Todd held my arm and helped me sit down in the waiting room (though sitting and standing and every position felt like the worse position) where I immediately leaked what felt like a half gallon of water all over my sweat pants and the lobby carpet. A doctor I had never met before, but who was very kind and pleasant checked my cervix and told me I was at 3 cm, which is where I had been for two weeks, and nearly 100% effaced. As soon as she pulled her hand from my cervix I gushed what felt like a very embarrassing half gallon of water all over the table, floor, and the doctor. She told us that if I wanted an epidural that we should head to the hospital and asked if that was something I wanted. I had a list of things I didn't want on my mental birth plan: no episiotomy, no epidural, no offering of an epidural, and no c-section. I made sure Todd and I were clear on these things so that he could ensure my hospital, vaginal birth went exactly the way I wanted it to. After all I had read, learned and prepared for had gone out the window, so did the woman I thought I would be during labor. I thought I could be strong like my mother, like so many of my friends, and all women before medicated labor. Instead I found myself feeling like I would have done absolutely anything to make it stop.

Every second felt like years of discomfort and having to move from floor to car to chair to exam table to wet clothes to cold car again was mental and physical agony for me. By 5 pm we were at the hospital where my mom met us almost immediately. As I was wheeled to the labor and delivery unit, more than one person told me, "the pain only lasts for a minute." You know that I wanted to punch them in the face and follow that with a "the pain only lasts for a minute." I was made to sit/lay down in the hospital bed to get checked and also because I had told them I wanted an epidural. They began the IV and while, initially, I hated the feeling of sitting up in bed, after being forced to labor there a while I got into a rhythm and into my zone. I had Todd holding my right hand and my mother holding my left. When I felt a contraction coming on I would squeeze both hands tight and would sort of rock Todd's hand in a circle until I could feel it easing up. I kept my eyes closed because I did not want to interact with, be bothered by, or speak to anyone. I was able to relax enough that I could fall asleep in between contractions and then would squeeze hands during. I did this for over an hour and by the time the anesthesiologist came it was 7 pm and I had dilated to 4 cm. The anesthesiologist asked me if I had any questions before he gave me the epidural and I asked what effect it would have on the baby. He said none.

In the moment, I really loved how calm and happy I felt after having received relief. My father, my brother, Chase, and his wife, Annie, arrived soon after and I was happy to see them. I was at ease and able to converse, which would not have been the case had I not received the epidural. After a while I wondered if I should not have shied away from the pain. I wished I had wanted to stick it out longer and work hard for my baby. I felt like I was cheating nature and myself. How could labor be that easy? My legs were numb, but otherwise I felt completely normal. I kept oscillating between feeling so relieved and ecstatic that I was finally pain-free, and feeling weak, disappointed in myself, and like I had let my baby down.

Time passed quickly and I don't remember much happening. I know that my family (mom, dad, Chase, Annie, Riley and his girlfriend, Mandy) had some dinner and came in and out of our hospital room for the next few hours. I remember Todd and I being alone, talking, laughing and eating popsicles since I wasn't allowed anything, except fluids. I remember when the nurse checked me she said she felt the baby's hair. I remember asking Todd if he was disappointed in me for getting and epidural. By 9:15 pm I had dilated to 6 cm and it was around this time that the nurse sounded a little concerned when looking at the fetal monitor. The baby's heart rate was not fluctuating with my contractions like it was supposed to and she was not very responsive. They would flip me from side to side, scratch the baby's head and they put me on oxygen because the baby's low responsiveness was assumed to be caused by low oxygen. I had not dilated anymore by 10:30 pm and my doctor, after having conversed with the nurse who still looked nervous, discussed the possibility of a C-section. He saw how upset and disappointed I looked and asked me what my concerns were. I told him that I really did not want major surgery, that I didn't want my baby cut out of me, that I wanted to be left to labor and have her vaginally. I told him that I wanted to be able to hold her right after her birth, to try nursing and skin-to-skin. He told me that it was major surgery, but that with the baby's flat heart rate and low responsiveness he would not take any chances and did not want me to labor any longer. He said that everything might be just fine if I was left to labor for several more hours, but also that something may be wrong and repeated that he would not take any chances. I asked if I could be left to labor for a while, but he looked stern and serious and it didn't seem like I had much of a choice. He assured me that I would be able to see and hold my baby right after the surgery and that when they took her away that Todd would be with her the entire time. He left to see how soon we could go to surgery and I turned to Todd and my mom, trying as hard as I could not to cry, and asked them what they thought. Both of them said that the C-section might be best and that we'd rather have a healthy baby than take a risk. Their opinions meant the more to me than anyone else's so I decided to be alright with a C-section and it was a good thing I did because a few minutes later the doctor said we were ready to go.

I was wheeled into the operating room by 10:50 pm. There were so many unfamiliar people surrounding me, but everyone introduced themselves and the new anesthesiologist was very kind and friendly, which was good because he was next to my head the entire time. There was the big blue sheet that would shield me from the surgery, from my body, from seeing my baby. I felt very cold and shivery. The shivers I was having actually caused me to convulse so much that my arms would fly up off the operating table so they strapped them down. Instead of feel trapped, or terrified, I was glad they did because having such convulsions really bothered me and was more unsettled than being tied down. The reason for my chills and spasms was due to the epidural dose they had given me right before surgery. I was given a second drug to counteract my chills, which worked, but made me extremely sleepy. I fell asleep for the thirty minute Cesarian. I was also glad to be asleep so I would not feel the pressure of the cutting, stretching and stapling of my insides that most women are alert for. While mostly a haze, I remember Todd talking to me for a minute, but don't really remember his presence at all. I remember hearing the baby cry, waking to look for her, not being able to see anything except the blue sheet, and not being able to stay awake no matter how hard I tried. This happened (that I can remember) a couple of times where I would hear my baby cry, try to find her, and then fall asleep against my will. Todd finally brought her to my head where I could see her and I remember feeling overwhelmingly tired and thinking that she was swollen and not very cute.

The next thing I knew I was waking up in a recovery room alone. I sat and cried. I was upset that I was alone, I was upset that I didn't know where I was, where my husband was, where my baby was. I was upset because I hated myself for thinking she wasn't cute. I was so thirsty and asked an unfriendly nurse to bring me something to drink. She brought me ice chips with a spoon and after a while Todd came to visit me with our new baby girl. I held her, stared at her face, and sobbed about everything over and over. Everyone says I was emotional due to hormones and the drugs, which may have had a part, but I still feel those feelings even today.

Around 12 am I was wheeled back to my original room where my family was waiting. Apparently, they had all already seen and held the baby while I was who knows where. I vaguely remember talking to them and crying some more. I was surprised that they had all waited so late, especially my father who likes to be asleep right after dinner. My mom said he was worried about me and wouldn't leave without making sure I was fine. Everyone left Todd, baby girl and me to sleep for a few hours. Sometime around 4 am we were moved to a smaller room and in the morning was when, at last, I felt alert without the overwhelming heaviness of sleepy drugs. I looked at my new child and wept because of how beautiful she was and from how much love I felt for her. I was greatly relieved to feel joy in my little girl and to feel at peace with the entire situation. I told her that I would have had eight hundred C-sections in order to get her. The next few days we were in the hospital I was able to get up and walk around, I was able to get up on my own and get my baby, we had many loving and adoring visitors, wonderful nurses, and some good food and relaxation. I enjoyed the rest of the hospital stay and received a lot of help from the lactation specialist there (who Regina and I still see each week).

A part of me feels like if I had been stronger and forced myself to labor naturally, as I had intended, that I would have kept dilating. Perhaps the drugs made her lazy and unresponsive. Perhaps that was why she had low oxygen. I feel like I missed out on the special bonding, the oxytocin, and hormones that follow a vaginal birth. So I blame myself, in part. On the other hand, she had had a bowel movement in utero, which is a sign of stress, or maybe because I was a week overdue. I know expelled meconium is dangerous, so maybe her lungs and life were saved because of the C-section. Maybe my body and my baby were going to do all the same things with or without an epidural. Perhaps I went into such active and intense labor so quickly because she had already had the bowel movement and needed to get out. I won't ever know whether it was my choices, or just the way things needed to go, but I do know that I am healing more quickly than most C-section mothers and that I have a calm, pleasant, beautiful, cheerful, sweet baby girl.

We named her the following evening. She is our new best friend.

Regina Rae Carman

Born January 31st at 11:17 pm

7 lbs 5 oz

19 3/4 inches long