My birthing experience with Elizabeth was 'unorthodox'; I
was induced and spent hours without any change, my contractions were monitored
for me and, when I was unknowingly in transition, I got an epideral to ease my
pain (which I thought was going to be as long as the first leg of the
experience) and then had a baby.
Expecting my second child, a baby boy, I was a little in the
dark and nervous, as if it was my first.
I had never labored at home and I did not know the signs or symptoms
related to that experience. After I passed my due date (July 28) and had an
induction date set (Aug 4) I stopped worrying about 'going into labor' and
assumed that my little man would come on his scheduled induction date. But, as it usually goes with pregnancy and
motherhood in general, I was unprepared for the changes and timing of my new
arrival.
I wanted my little man to come early for many reasons but
mainly because family would be in town and it was way too hot to be 9 months
pregnant in July. I tried everything to self-induce labor; bouncing on a
medicine ball, intimacy with my husband, lots of walking/squats/exercise, spicy
food, having my membranes stripped and someone even suggested pressure points
on my feet but nothing worked. (No I did
not and will never try caster oil.)
The week of my due date I decided to schedule things each
day, so that I wouldn't be focusing on the fact that I was STILL pregnant. I
thought this packed schedule would ease my frustration until my induction date,
one week after my actual due date. I
went and visited family, had dinner with good friends, helped clean the house
of a friend who was moving, exercised every day and went to help my Mom paint
the floorboards in her house; and that is what did the trick.
My due date was July 28 and it came and went without a baby.
The next day, Elizabeth and I went to my Mom's house to help her paint her
floor boards; she had recently had her wood floors redone and there was stain
on the white floorboards. She had me
start by taping the bathroom and she then followed with the paint. She wanted
to do the small space to make sure it worked but it didn't. The paint leaked under the tape and my Mom
was not satisfied with the results. While she figured out our next step, Elizabeth
and I went upstairs to take a much needed nap.
Knowing I was going to paint, I came wearing stretchy exercise pants and
a t-shirt. The pants were not maternity
and the top band kept rolling down and it began to put pressure and really
bother my lower stomach. I kept telling
my Mom how uncomfortable my pants were and tried to stretch them out; I even
took them off while reading books with Elizabeth.
That night Mom, Dad, Elizabeth and I met Ben at Cafe Rio in
Longmont for dinner. I was still
complaining about my pants but was able to position them in a way that was a
little more comfortable. All way home
they bothered me and so, the moment I got home, I changed into some of Ben's
baggy stretchy basketball shorts. However I still was feeling uncomfortable so,
after bathing Elizabeth, I got in the bathtub to see if that could ease the
pain. It was not until this point that I
thought I was maybe in labor. I called Mom and she said to just relax and call
her in the morning if things changed. So
I tried to relax but the discomfort continued.
After the bath I laid on the couch watching a TV show and
measured the contractions on an app on Ben's phone. They were much closer than we expected, about
4-5 minutes. Doesn't that mean you are in labor? When do you go to the
hospital? Ben then started googling how to tell if you are in labor and reading
off the symptoms and I wasn't really displaying most of them. He was convinced that I was not in labor and
said that we could go on a walk to make sure; false labor stops when
walking. Before we even got half way
down the block I was hit with heavier contractions and was sure that I was
indeed in labor.
This is where our lack of preparation came full force; when
do we go in? Who do we call? What's the number? We finally got a hold of the
on-call doctor and told her that, by then, the contractions were about 3-4
minutes apart and she said we should go in to be checked. I don't know why that set off a little bit of
panic but we both realized that we actually were going to the hospital to have
a baby! I pulled out the hospital bag,
which had been packed weeks before, and gave the list of 'last minute' things
to Ben to find (phone chargers, cameras, wallets, ect). I then went to take a shower, because I
didn't shower that day and I looked gross and didn't even have my legs shaved,
but Ben quickly squashed that idea and pushed me to the car.
Rachel, who had been to the house earlier that night while I
was uncomfortable and getting in the bath, came back over to watch Elizabeth
overnight. She was very shocked that in just a few hours I was in labor and
going to the hospital; as were we. On
the way to the hospital I worried and fretted about Elizabeth and how she would
feel when we were not there in the morning; Ben reassured me that she would be
fine and probably more excited to have Rachel there then us.
We arrived at the hospital around 10:30 pm and after signing
paperwork (why do they have women in pain do that?) they put us in a triage room. The nurse that helped us there, Kara, is a
member of the church in a neighboring ward and had worked closely with me in
the Young Women's Program. We were able to talk as she hooked me to machines
and my contractions got stronger. The doctor on-call that night was Dr Schultz;
she was not my regular doctor but I had seen her a couple times when my doctor
was out for the summer. She happened to
be walking by and came in herself to check me out. She found that I was at a 4 and about 80%
effaced and said that, because it was obvious I was having contractions, that I could be admitted. As we left triage my Mom arrived and was able
to go with us to our room.
Kara took us to our room, got all the paperwork in order,
gave me an IV and helped us settle in. I
laid in bed and labored for a while, making Mom and Ben randomly talk to
distract me, but decided to get in the shower. I labored a lot in the shower
with Elizabeth; I find that the burning hot water pounding on my back relaxes
my muscles and somehow makes it more bearable.
After being in there for, Ben said about an hour, my actual nurse came
in and introduced herself, Liz; She basically just stuck her face around the
shower curtain and said hi. I told her that I was to the point that I was ready
for an epidural; I do not have an opinion on epidurals or not but I was okay
with getting one if I felt it was getting too much.
Ben got me out of the shower and to the bed, I was still
wrapped in wet towels, and I laid down on my side in a fetal position. I remember thinking how ridiculous I was
being and how silly I must have looked white knuckling the bed rail but at that
point, even though I cared, there was nothing I was going to or able to do
about it (this was around 12:10-12:15). Then I had the sensation that I needed
to poop, that is a sign that you are ready to push, but I really just felt like
I was going to poop. So, I pushed and I pooped.
I then told them, "I think I just pooped" and Ben lifted the
wet towel to look, which I quickly yelled at him for; I might be in a very
compromisable position and state of mind but I did not want him looking at my
poop. However this comment (the need to poop, not the yelling at Ben) brought
the attention of my Mom and the nurse fully on me. "Do you feel the need to push?"
someone asked me. "Umm..yes", I thought but ignored them and let my
body push. I then felt the rush of my
water breaking, no trickle but a gallon of water bursting from me. The nurse
quickly got on her phone and started calling people. In one of the calls she said there was
meconium in the water at which I replied, even though she wasn't talking to me,
"No, I pooped. It is probably just my poop." I do not know how, during this rush of pain
and commotion, how my mind thought and allowed me to say things like that but
Mom assured me that it was not my poop.
The nurse then made me turn onto my back, movement felt
almost impossible, and stuck her fingers up me to check my dilation. Her
urgency then increased, as did her rushing phone calls, as she said, "Wow,
there is the head!" From that point
on things got a little crazy and blurred in my mind; Ben has told me that my
recollection is far from what happened. "Don't push, don't push" she
was telling me. "Don't push, don't
push" Mom was telling me and in my mind I was screaming, "How do I
NOT push?" Even though everyone was telling me not to push, my body was
telling me to push and I must admit, I listened to my body and semi-pushed. "Breath Breanne, Breath, Don't
push." As people rush in. "You
have to breath." As the bed is getting broken down. "Move your butt
down this way and put your feet up." What? Did I not tell you earlier that
moving hurts. "Don't push yet, just
breath." I have no idea when the doctor rushed in (but I know she rushed
because she was not 100% in her disposable delivery clothes, which I did not
notice until later) but soon their instructions changed to, "Okay, one big
breath and push. Good job you can do
it." "Remember to breath, here we go again, Push."
It is at this point that people talk about the 'ring of
fire' and intense pain that comes right as the babies head comes out and as I
was pushing, I just kept thinking of that.
Why am I not feeling it? Is he ever coming out? Something must be wrong,
shouldn't I be on fire? But after only 2 'official' pushes, it finally came and
as quick as it came it left with an overwhelming relief as the head popped
out. One push later and my baby boys
body came falling out. The pain leading
up to the ring of fire and the head coming out is so intense that the moment it
comes everything else seems like a piece of cake, probably because you are so
elated and full of adrenaline.
I looked down to see a very dirty little boy, getting his
nose sucked to remove meconium, being lifted and placed on my chest. "It's
a boy!" the doctor said and someone else recorded the time, "12:34
pm".
I was so elated and my body
was in so much relief, shock and euphoria at being 'done.'
Our handsome little man was covered in
meconium and what I later found out was my blood; they tried to towel him off a
little but he stayed dirty and adorable laying on my chest.
(He then, I am not sure when, pooped black tar
all down my side.)
I am always in so
much disbelief at newborn babies, I almost expect them to pull them out of a
box and pretend they came from the mother.
It is hard for me to comprehend that this perfect little person was
inside me and now he is here in my arms.
They had Ben cut the cord, at which time I was pulled from
my baby and told Mom to take pictures.
The placenta was delivered and I had the doctor show it to me; I didn't
get to see any of that with Elizabeth and I think it is interesting. The room emptied and I stayed, holding my
dear little boy, with Ben, my Mom, Liz and the doctor as they began punching
down my stomach.
This is a part of having a baby that no one tells you about.
Many first time Mom's think that once the baby is out they are done but in
reality you are then beat up to help shrink your uterus, given shots (I had to
get a new DTaP) and stitched up.
I had
to get 'a couple' stitches, going back, and was not too worried about pain (accept
the numbing shot feels like you are getting bit by ants).
Mom later told me that I had to have internal
and external stitches and on a scale of 1-3 they were a 2, so not as minor as I
had thought.
 |
| 2 Minutes Old |
 |
| 5 minutes old |
 |
| 8 Minutes old and wide awake |
The doctor then
continued to work on me as the nurse continued to give me shots in my thighs
and butt, she put in another IV and started me on pitocine , which is used to
induce labor by making the uterus contact. During all of this I was just
watching my beautiful little boy lay contently on my chest.
I then felt a very uncomfortable pressure and
turned my attention to the doctor who had her entire hand and part of her arm
reaching up into my body and pulling out clots and gushes of blood.
At some time during all of this I was told
that I was losing more blood than normal and all the shots and pitocine were to
help my uterus contract and to help stop the bleeding.
Later
while talking to my Mom, who was down by the doctor talking to her and asking
her questions like only a nurse would, she said that an average women looses
around 500 (of some unit, I don't know) of blood and I lost around 800 and she
did confirm that the doctors entire arm with up in me ripping out clots.
Other than the discomfort I did not feel or care much about
the after effects of the delivery.
I had
my little man and I was happy.
Usually
they come in and weigh and measure the baby, clean them off a little and then
let you breast feed them but they never came so I fed our little man, who
caught on to that really quickly, and we just continued to watch.
Mom left, a little disappointed that we still
did not know the weight, and we continued to hold our dirty little boy.
Finally, two hours later, a NICU Nurse came
in to do his stats.
She told us that it
was such a busy night (full moon) that they did not have a table or equipment,
until then, to come and get the stats on our little man.
(She also told me, a little later, that when
she came in during the delivery she had nothing because it was all being used
elsewhere and, if there was something wrong, she would have had to do it on my
bed.) He weighed 7lbs and 11oz, he had already eaten but he also pooped all
over me, so we say it evened his weight out; this is also interesting because
my Mom guessed that exact weight.
He was
20.5 inches long and had a 14 inch head.
Ben went with them as they took him for his first bath and I
stayed to be cleaned up myself. Because I had lost so much blood they had to
have two nurses walk with me at all times, so I didn't faint. They took me to the bathroom and then to the
shower, where I had to sit but was able to rinse/scrub off the baby poop. Shortly after returning to my bed, Ben and
our cleaned little man came in and we got to coo over him some more.
When Ben saw Elizabeth, after birth, he instantly knew her
name and felt strongly about it.
We did
not pick a name for our little boy because we were expecting the same prompting
and feelings as we did with Elizabeth.
But this time it was not as strong.
When we found out we were expecting, Ben had a dream that his name would
be James and later we learned that my Mom also had that dream.
However Ben, and my Mom, thought Josh when he
came out.
So, two different names with
two different moments of inspiration, that means the tie breaker is me, and I
liked James.
So, after a couple hours of
deliberation, we named our little man, James Sidney Newson.
(Ben's great grandfather was names Sidney.)
Even now we sometimes call him by the wrong name, which makes Ben worried that
we named him wrong, but we love our little baby James. (Ben calls him Joe, I
don't get it.)
After giving birth and the excitement and adrenaline wears
off you are exhausted; this is fine for the new father, who gets to conk out on
a bench/bed in the corner, but for the new Mom this first night is exhausting
with nursing, baby nurses coming in and your nurses coming in.
 |
| his
is one of Ben's favorites. I look like a mess (only about 3 hrs of
sleep in 24+ hours) but I was holding up and he told me to look up and
took it- no posing, no preping. I was and am so happy! |
We made it through the night and then I eagerly waited for
Elizabeth to come and see her baby brother (not yet named). I did not want to
scare her, so I showered, changed and tried to look as normal as possible. She had an adorable 'Big Sister' shirt, made
by the Dawson's (and James had a matching 'Lil Brother' shirt) and the nurses
made her an arm band that said Big Sister on it (because Mom, Dad and Baby have
hospital arm bands). She walked into the
room full of smiles and excitement. I
smiled big and opened my arms for a hug and she bypassed me and went straight
to the baby and she was instantly in love.
Ben held her up to see him and then she sat on my lap and got to hold
him. She gave him lots of kisses and
inspected his fingers and toes. I loved
watching them together and seeing her excitement.
The baby brought her a special present, so she opened it up
and found a doctor kit (since going with me to my many pregnancy appointments,
she has wanted to be a doctor).
She used
it on everyone in the room, including her baby brother, listening to our
hearts, looking in our ears, taking our temperatures and giving us band
aids.
When they were leaving she was a
little confused and upset that she didn't get to take her baby brother home but
Ben walked her to the car and promised he would come home soon.
When I delivered Elizabeth it was a very peaceful zen like
experience; even before the epidural, I was able to go into myself and find a
place of peace that would help me through the contractions.
The delivery with James was completely
opposite; I felt crass, unorganized and annoyed.
I was unable to 'leave my body' and go to a
happy place but I had vivid thoughts and conversations with myself in my brain;
usually annoyed or embarrassed thoughts.
I felt like I did not handle the pain as well, like I acted more like
the cliché 'laboring mom' on TV who screams and sweats and yells.
Even now, looking back, I am a little bit
embarrassed at how I acted and responded to things.
With Elizabeth, Ben was impressed and
emotional but with this birth Ben just seemed a little shocked (maybe because
it came so fast). But through all of these embarrassed birthing feelings,
I am so
happy to have our perfect baby boy!
