Waiting for Ever
After two weeks of waking up with one or two contractions a
night, both of us were impatient and tired of feeling like the baby would never
come. We were at home together Friday
night, when T suggested we get frozen yogurt – for the second time that day,
she admitted. A friend of ours, Kate,
went with us and was going to pick our dog up that night, as she volunteered to
keep him at her house for the first week or so after the baby came. Obviously, we were hoping she would arrive
soon. How soon, we didn’t realize,
because T was sitting at the table after eating her frozen yogurt and got this
funny look on her face, and announced, “I think my water might have just
broken.”
It took Kate and me a second to register what T had just
said, but then I felt pieces of excitement bubble up through the doubt. Kate picked up Manni, and T and I called the
birth center to find out what they wanted us to do.
The midwife called back a few minutes later, telling us to
come in for some testing to confirm that T’s water had broken. After completing a few of their ways to test
for amniotic fluid, with a puzzled tone, the midwife told us she was going to
say that T’s water had not, in fact, broken, BUT that she wasn’t actually
convinced of it. She advised us to go
home and get some rest and check up with the midwife on call the following day
if things were still gushing. So at
10:30 that night, we went home and climbed into bed. Surprisingly, we both fell straight asleep –
maybe our bodies knew things we didn’t.
Sometime around one am, I felt T rubbing my arm to wake me
up. I called my parents to tell them to
begin their two hour drive down; T’s labor had officially begun.
I felt surprisingly calm about the whole thing, which was
unexpected. We got up and did all the
things that it seems people do when they’re in labor – T took a shower, we went
on a walk, we hung out together and watched one of our favorite movies, so on
and so forth. My parents arrived a
couple hours later and T was handling her contractions well. My dad promptly retired to the guest room to
catch some sleep, and a little while later, my mom joined him. Around five am, our enthusiasm for labor was
replaced by tiredness so we also tried to get some shut-eye. Contractions were in T’s back and it was hard
for her to lie in bed, so I’d push my knuckles into her lower back during them,
and we’d sleep when the contraction would abate. We spent about an hour this way, until lying
in bed was no longer possible for T.
As the sun peeked over the mountains, I thought to myself, “Our
daughter is going to arrive today.” It
was an unfathomable idea, that finally that baby in T’s belly would come to
meet us. That soon T’s pregnancy would
be over. We stood together on the cusp
of a life-altering experience.
The hours of the morning passed us by, as T’s contractions grew
closer together and more intense. We
used seemingly the whole house as our tools for labor, changing positions and
moving about our home, waiting for Everleigh.
I called the midwife mid-morning, to see when she wanted us
to come to the center. She spoke with me
and then with T, and since we lived so close, she advised us to just stay home
as long as T was handling the contractions, or until her water broke or she
felt like she had to push.
Just after eleven am, T’s contractions went from manageable
to overwhelming as she experienced a set of intensely close and difficult
contractions, right atop one another. I
don’t know that I’ll ever forget it – she was leaned over the couch onto her body
pillow, tears streaming down her face as contractions crashed over her. I’m unaccustomed to a T who isn’t in control,
and seeing her unable to ride the contractions out really hurt me. I couldn’t fix it, I felt like T was alone
and adrift and there was nothing I could do.
Nothing, except call the birth center and tell them we were coming in
NOW, NOW we are coming.
In moments, my parents and I jumped into action. Dad got the car started and loaded up, I was
still on the phone with the birth center trying to convince the answering
service that yeah, my wife really was in labor and we really were coming
in. My mom followed us around, picking
up all the bits and pieces we were about to forget and after a contraction ended
I ushered T into the car. We drove the
extremely short distance to the birth center and headed inside. T had to stop for a contraction in the
hallway before we finally made it into our room.
The nurse wanted to check T’s progress. She told us that T was 100% effaced… but just
one centimeter dilated. My heart
broke. We were so tired. T was exhausted, and had been laboring for
nearly twelve hours already and to only be one centimeter dilated… I think we
both felt like Evie was never going to come out.
Somehow, we distracted ourselves with settling into the room
and continuing to labor. During T’s
labor, time wasn’t marked in minutes or hours, it was marked in contractions
and expletives and progress made and popsicles consumed and the darkening sky. It felt like eternity; it felt like a
moment.
During the afternoon, we labored in the giant birth tub
together. We labored in bed, on piles of
pillows, sitting backwards on the toilet, leaning our bodies together, sitting
on the birth ball, everything we could think of to help T get comfortable. After we got out of the tub, T’s labor gave
us a short reprieve and let us nap together in bed for ten minutes or so. Those ten minutes of sleep were the most
wondrous minutes I think I’d ever felt.
The midwife encouraged T to get out of bed and sit upright,
help the baby move down and keep her labor progressing. T dragged herself out of bed to sit on the
ball, and the moment she did, her water broke.
I threw a celebration party in my head, knowing that things were moving
along, but T was reserved about announcing her water broke. She looked fragile in that moment, concern
creasing her forehead as she anticipated the increase in intensity. I wanted to hold her and tell her that
everything was going to be fine, but T was busy focusing.
I think in that moment, something changed. I don’t know exactly what, but it felt to me
that T’s focus changed, her drive increased.
She knew that baby was getting ready to come out.
Before much longer, T was feeling the urge to bear down and push. The midwife wanted to check her, make sure
her cervix was completely dilated. Bad
news: she was not fully dilated. We
couldn’t understand how T had been laboring for so long and was ready to push,
but her body wasn’t. For the next hour,
the midwife told T to breathe through the contractions without pushing. It looked like torture. I watched as T’s abdomen tightened down
rhythmically. I looked into her eyes as
her body begged her to push and she fought it with every ounce of her
strength. I held her hand and I told her
that I believed in her; I knew she could do it.
Finally the midwife came back in to see how T was
doing. The horrifying news was that no
progress had been made over that hour.
The midwife gave us a few options: take some narcotics, which would
relieve T of her urge to push and allow her a break, or she could keep
breathing through the contractions and see if that did anything, or she could
allow the midwife to try and stretch her cervix over the baby’s head during a
contraction.
We decided to let the midwife stretch T’s cervix during the
next contraction. She was able to
successfully stretch the cervix another centimeter, and another half, and
finally one side of the cervix was off Evie’s head. The midwife worked and worked, trying to get
that cervix to stretch over. After a few
contractions, all that was left was what the midwife referred to as a “knot” of
cervix that wouldn’t move. She told T
that she could try pushing a few contractions, see if that would do
anything. She left the room to let T
try.
T’s mom and I helped T get into a squatting position,
because that’s one position we’d already decided T wanted to try pushing
in. After a few contractions, T decided
this wasn’t ideal, so back onto the bed we went.
Our midwife came back in to see how we were doing. After doing a check, she announced that
although the cervix hadn’t moved off E's head, T was bringing the baby down with it. She said that it wasn’t ideal, but that if T
could push the baby down despite the bit of cervix, that she should just keep
pushing. This was the beginning of the
end, and now T finally had something she could actively DO.
T lay back and pushed like a Mack truck. Everyone in the room was awed with how
powerful her pushes were, how quickly she moved the baby down even with the
cervix hampering her efforts.
Before we knew it, the midwife was exclaiming that she could
see the baby’s hair.
I watched over my wife as she moved our daughter millimeter
by millimeter into the world. I carefully
wiped her face and her underarms and the pits behind her knees with a cool
cloth as her complexion purpled with sheer effort. I stroked her hair, and held her leg, and
told her that I could see Evie’s head. I
watched my daughter crown, and I watched T work at slowly birthing her head,
and I watched E’s slippery grey body slide out. Outside of myself, I watched from above the room as life as we knew it changed.
Tears dripped off my cheeks as the midwife lay our baby on T’s
body and cut her umbilical cord. Her
cord was really short, so we waited while the cord was cut and the midwife and
nurse rubbed the baby’s body down and tickled her feet to get her crying. Evie blinked her eyes a few times and gave a
small cough before she really opened up her lungs and let out a good wail. She cried as T finally got to pull her up
onto her chest, and as T and Evie were wrapped up in warm blankets I sat back
and took a good look at my new family.
There really isn’t any way to describe the emotions crowding
my heart at that moment. I was
overwhelmed with love, with amazement at T’s strength, with gratefulness for a
healthy wife and a healthy daughter, with disbelief that our daughter had finally
arrived, and a million other thoughts floating around these central ones.
In some ways, I still can’t believe our child is
here. I knew I would love her, but what
I didn’t know was how intense my love for her would be, nor how fast it would
grow. I feel differently about her than
I’ve ever felt about anyone before, which I wasn’t sure would happen. I wondered if I would love her like I loved
our foster children – but there simply isn’t anything comparable. She may not have grown in me, but the moment
she was born, I knew her. I am filled with overwhelming love for her
and my love for T has only continued to blossom. I am so excited to step into this new
life.
Wishing on a Blue
Moon
My entire pregnancy, I had been convinced she wouldn’t be
here until after her due date - until I started noticing changes in my body. I had been waking up with contractions that
were more crampy than Braxton-Hicks, my skin became really oily, insomnia
seemed to be back, and the dog was following me around looking worried and
sitting on my feet. I know none of this
really means anything, but I felt like things were starting to change. After a
few days, it was obvious this was just the new norm, I was still pregnant, and
our little one seemed content to wait.
It was the day before Evie’s due date, August 31st. Even though I was trying to positive about still
being pregnant, I was disappointed that we weren’t going to be able to tell our
little girl she was born under the Blue Moon.
It was silly, but I really liked the idea and it was disappointing when
it became obvious she was going to keep us waiting. I was texting with my mom about feeling
conflicted and she suggested writing a blog, which was a great idea. Getting it all written down helped me
remember that I believe babies will come when they are ready most of the time.
She just wasn’t ready.
With my ideals in mind, I left my last day of work and
headed to my appointment with the midwife. The midwife of the day was
Judy. It was the first time I had met
her, but a friend of mine had her for Centering and said she was
fantastic. I immediately liked her (this
can be said about almost everyone at the Birth Center). It was another uneventful appointment, but at
the end she offered to do a cervical exam.
I skeptically asked if it would really tell her anything and she said
“No,” but explained that if I was starting to dilate she could sweep the
membrane and it may help get things moving along. I declined and decided if I
was still pregnant at our next Centering class I would let Fran do the sweep.
I immediately regretted my decision, emotionally, if not
logically. I came home and moped around a bit.
I was feeling very stressed about being on maternity leave and still
being pregnant. What would happen if she
waited another week and I had to go back to work and she was only 7 weeks
old? 8 weeks seem so much more
acceptable than 7. A came home and I
just couldn’t handle it anymore; I broke down and cried. I was so ready to be done with pregnancy and
I felt so guilty for feeling that way. I
was also hungry, which is never a good thing when I am already emotional. I
calmed down enough to feel like being around friends may help me get out of my
funk, so A started texting people to find a dinner date.
We met our friend Kate for dinner and went to get frozen
yogurt. It was a nice night so we sat outside to eat our dessert. We stay and talked for a while after we had
finished eating. The moon was big and
beautiful, I stopped paying attention to the conversation and just watched the
moon and enjoyed the night. I felt much
more at peace than I had all day. Then I was startled back to the reality. I
looked at A and told her that I thought my water had broken, not a lot, but
something was going on down there. I
went inside to the bathroom and confirmed that there was some kind of fluid,
but there definitely wasn’t a lot. My contractions had also changed to the
crampy type that had been waking me up. We got in the car and took Kate back to
hers. She followed us home to pick up
the dog so we wouldn’t have to worry about him while Evie was brand new.
We called the Birth Center and talked to Maya, and she said to go
ahead and come in so she could run some tests to see if it was amniotic fluid
or not. Unfortunately all of the tests came back inconclusive. She said she
wasn’t convinced it wasn’t my water, but she was going to call it a very watery
mucus plug. She sent us home, told us to get some sleep, and said if labor
hadn’t started and it was still watery to call back in the morning.
I was amazed we were actually able to fall asleep, but it
was very short-lived. After about two
hours I woke up with contractions. I got up to go to the bathroom and checked
the time on my phone when I got back. It
was 12:30am. Another contraction started so I started the contraction counter
app on my phone. They were still pretty
mild, but coming every five minutes so I woke A up. After about half an hour
they were getting closer together and more intense and we decided it was time
to call A’s parents so they could drive down from Phoenix. I took and shower and
braided my hair and then A suggested going for a walk.
It was about 2:30am and we set out in the moonlight, it was
so bright we didn’t even need a flashlight. After having to stop for a few
contractions I decided I really didn’t want to be walking anymore. We started
timing the contractions again and they had slowed to 7 minutes apart, but were still
getting stronger. We got home and I
decided to have some soup while I still had an appetite and we put our favorite
romantic movie on, Imagine Me and You.
After a while A’s parents, Sue and Mike, got to our house, I felt sort of bad
we had called them so soon since it was now obvious it was going to be a while.
We started another movie, Coyote Ugly (we decided it was a Piper Perabo kind of night). A’s
parents went to the guest room to get some rest and we decided it didn’t sound
like a bad idea. I could feel the
contractions in my back so A put pressure on my sacrum. I was able to sleep just a little between
contractions. After about an hour I was
feeling restless and got out of bed. A
made me some tea and we finished our movie. The contractions were still only
about 5 minutes apart, every once and a while there would be a really intense
one and they would space out for a little while. The whole time I had been
losing bits of the mucus plug and while everyone else was eating breakfast, the
rest of it came out. It made for great breakfast conversation.
Around 10:30am we decided to call the midwife on call
because they were finally only 3-4 minutes apart and that was when we were told
to call. Judy was the midwife on call
and she was at the hospital with a woman who was already pushing. She talked to
A and then to me. After telling her we lived really close to the birth center
she recommended staying home until I was ready to push, my water broke, or I
wasn’t able to handle the contractions any more. This was a bit
discouraging. I really wanted to be told
we were getting really close and to come in right away.
After about another hour something changed and I had 3 strong contractions really close together. I got completely overwhelmed and started crying. So A decided it was time to go. She called the answering service and told them to let the midwife know we were ready to go to the birth center. A and her parents started packing the car. A few minutes later A got a call from the hospital, they had a message from Judy: “Come in.” As soon as the next contraction was over we went to the car. My contractions had slowed down now, so we made it to the birth center between contractions.
The nurse (also named Judy) checked me and told me the good
news was that I was completely effaced, but only one centimeter dilated. I had been in labor for 11 hours and I was
only one centimeter. I know that I threw
up at some point. After a few more
contraction, I asked the nurse to fill up the tub. A and I got in. It was so deep, I felt like I was going to
float away. I hooked my arms under A’s legs and we stayed that way for a while.
The water definitely helped with the intensity of the contractions and I
started dozing off between them. The water started getting cold and my hands were
very water-logged, much to my dismay. I
turned around so A was keeping my feet down instead and we added more hot
water. I had someone get me a dry washcloth
to dry my hands and I tried keeping my hands dry for a while.
After a while things were intense enough that the water wasn’t
enough to make it bearable; the contractions were longer and stronger. Sleeping between them wasn’t making things
any easier, I would wake up and it would be too had to relax, but I was so
exhausted. During a particularly strong one I hit the tub and yelled; the
midwife heard and came in. She checked
me again and I was only to 4cm. She said my bag of waters was bulging and during
the next contraction she could feel me dilate to 5cm. I think it was around 3pm. Judy wanted me to get out of the tub to get
something to eat and drink and go to the bathroom. This sounded like the worst idea in the world
to me. After a few more contractions I finally gave in. A and I had been holding hands under water
and her waterlogged hands bothered me so much that I just wanted to be dry
again. I stood up and immediately regretted
my decision. I had moved too fast and
going from the weightlessness of water to standing gave me a very strong
contraction. Luckily it was short and I very slowly tried again. Someone wrapped me in a thick sheet and they
helped to me walk to the toilet.
I sat backwards on it and leaned against A. My mother-in-law, Sue, got me a popsicle
and fed me bites everyone once and a while. I liked the toilet because there were bars on
the wall I could grab during contractions. The birth classes we had taken
focused on completely relaxing, but I had stopped being able to do that hours
before. I found that if I was able to grab something with my hands I was able
to relax my core better. I had also given up on keeping my face relaxed. If I
pursed my lips and focused on blowing the contractions away I was able to take
longer, deeper breaths. A asked if she could run and use the bathroom, but a contraction
was starting so I asked her to stay. A little later Sue took over standing
behind me and A got to take a short break to use the bathroom and grab some
food.
The edge of the seat was digging into my legs and I finally
gave up on the position. I hobbled to
the bed and tried lying down again. I
had a lot of back pain during the next contraction, it made me cry out and Judy
jumped on the bed and put pressure on my sacrum. After it was over she checked
me again and said I was to 7cm but that her head was behind my pubic bone so I
needed to have some contractions while I was leaning back. They put a pad on the birth ball and put the
rocking chair behind it for A to sit on. I asked for some socks because my feet
were cold. During the first contraction in this position my water broke. I had heard so many stories about
contractions getting stronger after the water breaks that I was afraid, but the
exact opposite happened. They became manageable, they were still intense, but I
could handle them a bit better. Unfortunately
I needed a new pair of socks, so A gave me hers.
It didn’t take long before they became overwhelming again and were
one on top of the other. I got back on the bed and but barely made it before
the next one. It came with another gush of fluid, my socks were wet again and
we were out of socks. I was having a hard time; I was hot, then cold and
shaking. They wrapped my wet feet in warm towels and fanned my face. Judy said it was transition, which gave me a
little bit of hope. After a few more contractions I got a little bit of a break
and fell asleep.
When I woke up I felt like pushing. Judy checked and I was only 8cm so I was not
allowed to push. I writhed and screamed and did everything I could not to
push. Every once and a while, when I felt
completely out of control, Judy would tell me to just push a little and then
blow through the rest. After an hour or
so of this she checked me again; I hadn't made any progress. I couldn't believe
it. She said we had three options: keep
doing what we were doing and see if I made any progress, take some pain meds so
I could sleep and not feel the need to push, or let her try to push the cervix
over the baby’s head during a contraction while I was pushing. I couldn't
decide and asked A what I should do. She
said we should try the third option. I knew it was the right option, but I was
terrified. I had just started a
contraction and Judy said we would do it during the next one and I told her to go ahead. She got me to 9cm, and then
one side was completely gone. She said
there was just a knot of it left on one side, not even a lip, just a knot. I
turned onto my side, hoping gravity would help, but the knot wouldn’t go away. She told me if I felt like I had to push, I could
try pushing for a little while, but only if I had to, not if I just wanted to. Then
she left.
I had planned on pushing while squatting, so that is what I wanted
to try. A and my mom would lift me into
the rocking chair between the contractions.
I was so exhausted that this wasn’t working. I couldn’t relax well on
the rocking chair, so I got back into bed on my side. A got into bed and
supported my leg that was against the bed while my mom supported the one in the
air. After a few more, Judy came back and checked. With some surprise in her voice she said that
the knot was still there, but I was making progress pushing, my cervix was just
coming down with the baby’s head. I got
the go-ahead to continue pushing. Since
I was so tired, I kept my eyes closed and relaxed between. After about 30 minutes I happened to open
them and realized I couldn’t focus on anything.
I freaked out a bit and Judy told me to stop pushing with my face and
had someone get a cool washcloth to put over my eyes. This was harder than it seemed, and soon I was
being told to push harder and I was back to pushing with my face. I decided
that I didn’t care, my face would recover.
Soon Judy was able to see the head and told us she had
hair. I almost laughed. I had been so
convinced she would have a full head of dark hair like I did that I was worried
she wouldn’t. I had this image in my mind that went with the little being
growing inside of me, how would I feel if she looked different? Judy told us we
would get to meet her before long and this gave me a new burst of energy. Judy coached me to push more effectively and
made sure I kept breathing. Everyone got really excited as they could start to
see the progress and we got close to crowning. As she crowned, Judy was calling
out instructions on when and how hard to push and she used warm oil and warm cloths
to help me not tear. With a feeling of
relief, her head came out, and a few short pushes later, the rest of her
followed. It was 7:37pm.
They put her on my
belly, but wouldn’t let me move her because her cord was too short. I reached
down and felt her head while a new nurse wiped her off and tried to get her to
cry. She finally started crying and I could feel them messing with the
cord. She had pooped right after she was
born so they had to clean that off of me. Once her cord was cut I pulled her on
my chest and the nurse finished cleaning her off and put a silly hat on her
head. While I tried to calm her down and
get her to breastfeed, a lot of other things happened but I didn’t pay much
attention. I know they almost gave me a
shot of Pitocin to deliver the placenta, but then I finally had some more
contractions and was able to deliver it. Everyone kept trying to get me to put
ice on my eyes, but I wanted to be able to see even if I was cross-eyed. Judy told me I had some minor tears, but only
one needed stitches. She said lidocaine
would hurt more than the actual stitches so she wasn’t going to use it, I
really didn’t care. A and I just kept looking at our perfect little daughter.
Eventually I realized A hadn’t been able to catch her or cut
the cord like we had planned, so that meant she still hadn’t been able to hold
her. I think she was waiting for me to ask, so I did. They were so beautiful together. She took E’s
hat off and we just took in our beautiful little girl. Eventually we let the
grandparents take turns holding her. My dad went to get everyone some food and
we got to have some time as a family of three while everyone else ate at a
table just outside of the room. I ate some of A’s fries, but she wasn’t eating
any. I kept trying to get her to, but
her stomach was upset.
We decided we should put some clothes on E; she protested
and the nurse thought this was a good time to get all of her stats. A took the
diaper back off and let them do an exam.
She was 7lbs, 6ozs and 20.5” long. She also gave us some paperwork to
fill out. After a little bit, everyone left for the night. We had to stay for at least 4 hours for
observation. We decided to go to sleep and figure out what to do when we woke up.
Just before 11:30pm we were woken up by E’s cry. She had been sleeping on A’s chest. This time
she was much more interested in nursing so I sat with her in the rocking chair
and A got our things together and filled out the papers. The nurse came in to
do our discharge paperwork and exam. By 12:30am we were back at home; it had been a
crazy 24 hours.
