Ivy's Birth

I was 40 weeks pregnant on Thursday June 11, 2015. I went to my midwife appointment mellow and uncomfortable thinking I would have the baby a week late like I did with Regina. My mother had arrived the Tuesday prior and we had a lovely week of swimming, shopping, eating out, cleaning and prepping for baby. On Friday June 12, I packed clothes and camping gear for Todd, who left work early and carpooled to a campsite near Stanley, Idaho because he was running the Sawtooth Relay early the next morning. He had been running for months in preparation for this race and was looking forward to it. I felt calm in letting him go that Friday because I had my mom, a clean house, and the confidence that this baby wasn’t coming any time in the next couple of days. Todd left around 3pm, my mom and I had dinner, put Regina to bed, watched a show and painted our toes. We fell asleep talking and I woke several times in the night with contractions (that I had been having for several weeks), also to pee and to readjust myself so I could breathe, and feel more comfortable.

At 5:30 am I woke up feeling like I had wet myself a bit and thought my water had broken. I started to panic and cry a bit, thinking the worst (i.e. Todd was out of cell range, I was going to have a baby without my husband, he was going to have no way of getting home until late Saturday night, I couldn’t do this without him, why did I let him go?!?!, etc.). I went to the bathroom and realized my water hadn’t broken, but I was losing my mucus plug. That calmed me somewhat because I knew labor could start days later. I went back to bed, my mom was comforting, she said a prayer for me, and I decided to try and get as much sleep as possible. Half an hour later I began having contractions that were one minute long and between three and five minutes apart. I called Todd probably five times and left one message crying, hoping he would have service and could somehow make it home.

Around 7 am I decided I wasn’t going to be able to sleep through the contractions and took a warm bath hoping to slow them down – this had worked for me with false labor a couple of times. It worked to slow my contractions to six, or seven minutes apart, and the water made me much more comfortable. Todd called me back and told me his team had just sent off their first runner and that he would try and figure it out a way to come home (he needed to make his way from the starting line an hour back to the campsite where he would borrow one of the two cars his teammates had and drive it home by himself). My incredible mother brought me a hearty and delicious breakfast in the tub complete with eggs, pancakes, and sausage. My midwives stressed the importance of going into labor well rested and well fed. Of course I had no problem with that.

When I got out of the tub around 8 am, the contractions were under a minute long, but around 3 minutes apart. I called my doula, Jamie, to let her know what was happening and had my mom call the midwives. I told Jamie she didn’t have to come yet, that I had my mom, that Todd was hopefully on his way home, and that I was all right. Todd called me around 9 am to say it would take about 3 hours to drive home, but that he was on his way. The contractions stayed at around one minute and two to three minutes apart for hours. I hadn’t been able to talk through them since they began at 6 am, but I could be happy and talkative between them. For hours I leaned forward onto a stack of pillows on my bed with my feet on the floor.  I didn’t really feel time passing at all. My contractions were very uncomfortable and I would try to yoga breathe/exhale during them. I asked Jamie to come after 10, and she arrived around 10:45 am. She sat next to me and I was so happy to see her. We talked and laughed and she would be quiet while I breathe-moaned through a contraction. I felt like if I made noise vibrations equal to the intensity of the contraction it was more bearable, somehow. It probably distracted me, as well.

Jamie told me that unfamiliar people in the birthing space slowed labor down and that when Todd arrived my oxytocin levels would skyrocket and my contractions would pick up. She was right on the money because Todd arrived at 11:45, I was ecstatic to see and hug him, then my contractions, which I thought had already been hard and painful, got really hard and really painful. They were a minute long and only a minute or two apart. Jamie communicated with my midwives and they decided it was time to gather. I’m not sure when they arrived exactly. Probably around noon, or 1 pm. They set up their birthing equipment in my bedroom, their personal effects and laptops in the living room. They put an IV in my arm to administer antibiotics because I was GBS positive towards the end of this pregnancy. By this time I had stopped timing my contractions because they were so painful and so frequent. Sometimes I would have one on top of another and not get to rest in between. I realized how amazing those precious seconds of rest are in between contractions. When lying on pillows on my stomach I could fall asleep between contractions (Todd would too since he had a poor 3 hour night of camp-sleep).

I had three midwives – two of them I loved and one I liked, but didn’t necessarily want in my personal space. They take turns being the head midwife and as luck would have it, the one I felt would annoy me during labor was in charge. This midwife, without my knowledge, had asked Jamie to leave Todd and me to see if I labored better alone. Jamie and Todd were the only people I wanted in my room and in my space. I didn’t want my midwife to touch me, or talk to me. Luckily, my mom took Regina to the park and swimming, two midwives kept mainly to the living room, and my head midwife left the room after I snapped about Jamie’s whereabouts. Jamie returned and pressed on my hips and back, while Todd supported me from the front for HOURS. My midwives asked me later if Todd had been trained in birthing because he was the one encouraging me to move and try new positions. Apparently, he was in tune with what my body was doing and what it needed. It’s a good thing I didn’t know he was the one making me move, or I would have gotten so angry since moving was the absolute worst. During contractions I felt like it helped me cope to grab/squeeze/push on Todd anywhere I could (his neck, his shoulders, his biceps, his hands). I would just squeeze as hard as I could to cope with the pain, which was exhausting for both of us. It’s difficult to provide a timeline after noon because my eyes were closed nearly the entire day, I was only focused on coping through the pain, I simply dealt with each contraction one at a time, I didn’t notice the hour, or what anyone else was doing. I was in the zone and I was doing it! I remember people saying I was doing a good job, but I ignored them because I felt I wasn’t doing anything…I was just in a lot of pain. I remember vomiting and consequently having violent contractions and my midwife telling me that that meant I was probably in transition and “it wouldn’t be long now.” That was around…3pm I think. I told them not to get my hopes up and that I would plan on laboring until 8, or 9 pm so that an earlier birth would be a pleasant surprise, and a longer labor wouldn’t be a huge disappointment.

I remember the daylight changing slowly through the blinds – the light getting warmer and more yellow. I remember wanting to cry each time I was told to change positions because each contraction was already so painful and moving hurt all the more. I remember hating being asked questions because I was in no state to listen, contemplate, or physically answer them. I remember Jamie regularly putting a water bottle to my lips and having me drink. I remember during many contractions, a midwife checking the baby’s heart rate. I remember getting really shaky and weak and Jamie force-fed me a couple delicious honey lemon sticks. I remember she massaged my feet, too. I remember dreading having to pee because that meant moving my body from my room to the bathroom and back again. I remember Todd supporting my weight as we went and then while sitting on the toilet I would press my forehead into his abdomen as hard as I could. I remember contractions changing and hurting in different places that I could never find, or describe. I remember praying through so many contractions that I could just make it through that single one. I remember sweating. I remember my throat feeling sore because my exhale-moans had become full on yells as the intensity of contractions increased. I remember from probably 2 pm - 8:30 pm thinking that I would do anything for relief, anything for an epidural, anything for them to cut me open, to have another C-section, for them to reach in and pull this baby out with forceps! Why weren’t they doing it?! Why weren’t they offering me help, or relief?! I know I never said any of this out loud, but I knew they could see the intense pain and agony I was in and it was so much that I couldn’t speak. I remember thinking that we should go to the hospital so I could get the relief I needed, but there was absolutely no way I could make it down the two flights of stairs, or survive the car ride to the hospital. I had planned on a natural, home, vaginal birth with wonderful midwives and a doula specifically to avoid the hospital, the epidural that could stop my labor and end in another traumatic Cesarean section, but while in the throes of the all-consuming pain, I didn’t care how she came out and I just didn’t want to do it anymore. Though I felt like it, I didn’t give up. I knew that I just had to keep going. I knew if I did nothing except cope she would come eventually.

After about 12 hours of labor, Paula, the most experienced midwife who owns the practice, thought they should check my cervix to see how far along I was. They said I was 100% dilated and that I could push. They told me to squat with my arms on Todd’s legs to support me, bear down and push. It was all the energy I could muster to push and groan. I could feel at the end of my pushes that my muscles were close to being productive and almost moving the baby down, but I couldn’t quite get there. It would require more effort that I didn’t feel I could give. I was so tired. I pushed like this for a while – I have no idea how long – when they suggested we break my waters so the pushes would be more productive, and gravity would help a lot more. I told them I didn’t care, mainly I didn’t want them to talk to me, and I didn’t feel like discussing, I just wanted progress. They punctured the bag of waters and soon I felt so much more pain and pressure all around my pelvis.

By this time, two or three of the midwives were in the room, in addition to Jamie, Todd, and sometimes my mom. They told me I could feel the baby’s head just 3 inches away. I know in my birth plan I included feeling the baby, and I’m sure they thought it would give me a jolt of excitement and help me see the light at the end of the very long, dark, excruciating tunnel, but I didn’t want to because it would require moving and bending forward and both of those were far too uncomfortable. They helped me feel her head between contractions, but I was not in the right mindset and it didn’t do the trick.  I yelled loudly as I pushed and my mom had to take Regina and leave the apartment because she thought I might be dying. They had me try several positions. I tried my best to push as hard as I could while simultaneously trying not to defecate in a room full of people. I could not do both. I know it happens all the time, but I was humiliated and really uncomfortable with it. I tried to clear it from my mind so I could focus on the most important task at hand.

Finally, when I was really close, they had me lay down on my left side and Todd held my right leg. I could tell everyone in the room was excited and could see the end, but I didn’t feel that way. I was still in pain, I was so exhausted, and I was not the least excited. They told me to push as hard as I could (side note: the entire two hours I pushed, not once did I have the urge to push). It is challenging to describe, but during a good, long push it didn’t feel productive until the very end, at which point I would have to keep pushing. It was sort of like exhaling all of the way and then trying to exhale even further. I would give it all I had and then when I felt like I had expended all my strength pushing, the baby wouldn’t progress unless I pushed even more. I started to whimper (I tried to cry, but was too exhausted and it took too much energy) as I tried to tell Todd I had to give up, that I couldn’t do it anymore, but instead I think the words that came out were, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Jamie held a mirror so I could see what was happening. I saw the huge bulge the baby’s head had created and felt the searing hot pain it caused as everything stretched. It was like sharp, hot knives slicing my skin, just as my mother had described. At the end of a good push, I could see the top of her head! However, once relaxed, her head would retreat and I would get so discouraged. This is when everyone in the room turned into a cheerleader calling out words of encouragement like, “She’s so close! You’re almost there!” “That was a wonderful push!” “You’re doing so great!” I noticed that I was holding back from pushing her out because the pain was so sharp and I would recoil. I realized that if I just pushed her out as fast as I could, the pain I dreaded would intensify, but would end it all. I could finally see the end of labor. My will to get her out overpowered my fear of tearing and pain. I pushed that head passed my skin’s stretching point and screamed like you would imagine a woman being sliced open would scream. It wasn’t only a scream of pain, though. It was coupled with the grunt of pushing her head out.

I had a flood of endorphins and emotions at this point. Seeing her head come out was absolutely insane. There was a relatively large, purple, scrunchy, gremlin face actually sticking out of me. I took one, or two breaths, and finally I had the urge to push. It felt good to push only that once and then her slippery body shot out of me quickly. I cannot describe the incredible relief and relaxation I felt once she had come out. The only other experience I have to compare it to is when I had a kickboxing match. Each round was the longest two minutes of my life. It was the closest I had ever been to fight-or-flight mode, and it really felt like survival, not only to keep fighting this other girl, but also to survive the 6 minutes we were in the ring. My lungs and every muscle felt like death during the match, and though completely exhausted at the end of it, I had an amazing high and such relief. That’s what giving birth was like, but times a million. I felt tired, exhausted, drained, but incredibly relieved, satisfied, indestructible and undefeated.

Paula seemed concerned at my blood loss and the fact that I wasn’t having any more contractions, but had yet to deliver my placenta. They gave me a shot (that felt like a stab and a bruise) of pitocin in my thigh and out came the placenta.

I wasn’t strapped to a table, unconscious, hearing my baby cry and unable to wake up. I didn’t wake up in a recovery room alone, suddenly no longer pregnant, my baby cut out and taken from me, wondering where my husband, baby, and family were. This time I had given birth to a healthy child in my room, on my own (with the essential help and support of my incredibly talented, loving birth team). I had been in charge this time. I held my baby girl as soon as she came out, Todd cut the thick, rubbery cord, and she nursed after about twenty minutes. Todd, my mom and I cried like babies. It was an amazing feeling. Everyone buzzed around me taking pictures, making phone calls, doing laundry, cleaning up, and talking. I felt an incredibly deep calm and contentment. I was tired, but so happy. Paula rubbed my legs, my mom brought me a huge order of Pad Thai with some lemon Pellegrino, and I just held my baby.

After two midwives had given hugs they left to attend another birth. Jamie busied herself in the kitchen and Shaundra, the head midwife, administered some lidocaine and stitched me up. I was so relaxed and felt so much love for everyone. It was like being on drugs. She weighed our baby, gave her a shot, did her first newborn screening, and some other newborn things. It was so lovely to lie in my own clean, queen-sized bed in a room with plenty of space for Todd, my mother, Jamie, and my midwives. I was taken care of so completely. Everything was calm and orderly and after such a long day of labor, I was fed and tucked into bed with my husband and baby. I know I hated the experience during labor, but I also know that it healed the heartache and trauma from Regina’s birth and made me feel powerful and capable. It was the hardest and most physically painful thing I have had to endure, but I needed it and now I know I can do it.

Baby girl was born June 13^th, 2015 at 8:41pm

8 lbs. 12 oz.

20 inches long

We named her Ivy Grace Carman when she was three days old