Two Idealists' Stories

SHORT VERSION: I wrote out my birth story, and it got kind of long. If you don’t want to read the long version, the short version is I had back labor and wanted to die, but instead of dying I got an epidural and after about 24 hours total of labor (including about 6 hours of pushing) Harper made his way out of my body and into my arms.

LONG VERSION: Dan and I had all our pre-natal care at a birthing center about 40 minutes from our home. We knew that drugs were not offered at this birthing center, and our intention was to have a drug-free labor and delivery. To prepare for this, Dan and I attended Bradley Method classes (which we loved!) and followed their methods of diet and exercise for preparation. Even though things didn’t go as planned, I don’t think I could have delivered vaginally – even with the epidural I received – had we not prepared as we did.

I lost my mucus plug on Monday, 5 days before Harper was born. From that point on, I experienced increasingly frequent (and painless) Braxton-Hicks contractions. I thought, “Wow, contractions aren’t so bad!” I knew they would get stronger, but I had no idea what “stronger” meant.

In the middle of the night on Wednesday I had contractions for an hour and half that were strong enough to wake me up, and I wondered, “Could real labor be starting?” I fell back to sleep, so obviously this wasn’t it yet. All day Thursday I had “continuous” contractions, ranging anywhere from 6 to 25 minutes apart, and averaging 10-12 apart.

We were supposed to go into the birthing center when contractions were five minutes apart and at least one minute long for one hour. I had talked to Barb, our midwife, Thursday afternoon, just to keep her updated. Around 6 pm my contractions started to become consistently closer together. Around 8 pm Dan took the data I had been collecting and entered it into an Excel worksheet, graphed it, added a trend line, and found the outliers, resulting in the average time between contractions and length of each contractions (I know, this is extremely nerdy, but we were so excited!). We were at 6.22 minutes (don’t you love that precision? J), so I called Barb to let her know. She said she anticipated we’d be coming in around 2:00-2:30 am that night.

At this point the contractions became strong enough that I had to stop what I was doing (which was playing Carcasonne), and breathe through each one, but I still wouldn’t call the contractions painful at this point – only uncomfortable. Around 11 pm the contractions started to become painful – especially in my back – and we called our dear friend Jane to come over. (Jane was going to be driving us to the birthing center and assisting at the birth.)

Dan called Barb about 1 am when contractions jumped to between 2 and 4 minutes apart. She wanted to talk to me, but I could barely do it – Dan got back on the phone and told her we were coming in. For the 40-minute drive to the center, I “sat” on my hands and knees in the front seat (it was reclined) while Dan massaged my head and helped me through the contractions. When we arrived at the center, Barb examined me and I was 100% effaced and at 5 cm dilation.

For the next several hours I labored hard but had no urge to push. I changed positions every 3 or 4 contractions, trying to find something that was less painful. I kept telling myself, “You’re in transition, this can’t last forever, doubts are normal,” but transition wasn’t transitioning to 2nd stage, and my pain was only increasing.

Through this all, Dan was amazing. He held my hand (or me, depending on the position) for every contraction, and trust me, some of these weren’t pretty. Let’s just say my digestive system was cleaned out like never before (the poor nurse was using a fish net in the labor tub to help keep things clean, which Dan and I laughed about later J). Through all my contractions, I had extreme back pain. Dan and Jane told me later that they could see my tailbone protruding from my back a little bite.

Anyway, sometime in the early morning, Barb checked me and I had progressed to 7-8 cm, and she asked if she could break my water, which I agreed too, even though it seemed to take FOREVER, not only for me but also for Dan and Jane. I was squatting, Dan was under one of my arms, Jane under the other, and the nurse had her knee in Dan’s back so he wouldn’t fall over, and Dan said we were in this position for almost 30 minutes. Within an hour or so, I had progressed to 9.5 cm and had the urge to push, so she let me. I pushed for the next 3 hours. Barb, Dan, and Jane kept telling me I was doing a good job, but this didn’t seem to make sense to me. If I was doing a good job, why hadn’t the baby come out yet? I asked them at one point how close I was to delivery, and no one answered. I asked them if they could see the head, and they said no. After the labor I asked Jane and Dan why they said I was doing a good job if nothing was happening, and they said they could see progress, it was just very slow.

But it was too slow. I had never known pain like this was possible. By 9 in the morning, in the midst of my pushing, I had completely lost sight of why I was even doing this. All I wanted was the pain to stop, but there was nothing I could do. I didn’t even care anymore if we had a baby.

Barb called Dr. Peterson, the doctor on staff, whom we had met at one of our appointments. He came to check me and confirmed what Barb already thought. My cervical lip, combined with Harper’s position (he was posterior, hence the back pain), was keeping me from progressing. I was between station +1 and +2 (+3 is crowning), but Harper wasn’t moving. Dr. Peterson asked if we wanted to go to the hospital, at which point I remember I had rolled off the bed in an attempt to get back to the tub (the only place I had found any relief), but got stuck on the floor, begging someone – anyone – to help me.

I remember someone dressing me, getting me into the car (it was Dan), driving me to the hospital. I remember someone putting me in a wheelchair. I couldn’t open my eyes. I felt like a puppet ragdoll, limp and subject only to the brutal movement of each contraction.

Finally we made it to the labor and delivery room where they hooked me up to an IV and several monitors. The anesthesiologist arrived within in 20 minutes and I was given an epidural. I vaguely remember him lecturing us on the benefits of drugs in labor. Dan told me later that he was kind of jerk but that he wasn’t going to mess with him when he was about to use a huge needle in his wife’s back!

The low dose epidural saved my life. Alright, I know I’m being a bit dramatic, but it at least kept me from having a c-section because it stopped the shooting back pain and allowed my pelvic region to open up more with no pain. I could still feel the pressure on my back and the pressure of each contraction, but it took the edge off my pain. For the next three hours I participated in “rest and descend,” which involved me sleeping in an awkward position so that I could regain energy and so that Harper could naturally slide his way down the birth canal with each contraction.

Around 2 pm they had me try to push. I was fully dilated at 10 cm and was able to feel my contractions, which made pushing easier. However, after a couple pushes my back pain started again, and I asked how much longer I would have to push. The nurse said at least an hour, and I broke down and cried, saying I couldn’t do it anymore. The anesthesiologist returned and increased the epidural, and I rested some more. At this point, unbeknownst to me, Dan and Jane discussed how much more I could take. They decided that if I didn’t start pushing again soon and just finish the labor, I would probably have a mental breakdown. A new nurse – Jodie – was coming on duty, and Dan told her this. The three of them were AMAZING and so encouraging for the next few hours, and I couldn’t have delivered vaginally without them. Dan never left me side.

So I decided to start pushing again. I was feeling a little angry towards God earlier in the labor because I felt he was not exactly responding to my requests for pain relief. I called on Him again at this point, asking for His Spirit of power and strength, and He provided. For the next 2 and half hours, I pushed to counts of 10 from my labor team, and I began to progress. I started to feel calm between contractions and was able to carry on a conversation. I still cried and moaned but had some confidence that this baby was going to make his or her way out of me.

Jodie set up a mirror so I could see the progression during my contractions, which was helpful and motivating because I could see Harper’s head during some of the pushes. He still wasn’t crowning though. After about 2 and a half hours of pushing, Dr. Peterson returned and examined me. Little Harper was “caddy-wompus,” as Dr. Peterson said, or basically crooked and stuck on my pubic bone. We decided to use a vacuum. I think Dr. P. was still hopeful I could push Harper out on my own, but I knew I couldn’t push much longer (and you still have to push with a vacuum).

So they hooked up the vacuum. I found out yesterday from a friend who wasn’t even at my labor that the first vacuum broke, so they had to hook up another one. I wondered what was taking so long! J Anyway, with a little help from the vacuum and a few more pushes (and a roar from me), Harper was crowning, and then his head was out! What a strange combination of unbelievably uncomfortable pressure and relief! Another push and roar to get his shoulders out, and they laid him on my belly. I’m crying even as I write this part. A child – our child – alive, out of my body, into my arms. I think I cried harder and louder than little Harper.

Dan cut the cord, and the neo-natal team took Harper to get the meconium out of him (poor little guy couldn’t hold it anymore after hanging out in my birth canal so long!), and I realized that there were about 13 people in the hospital room with me, but I didn’t even care.

Harper was born at 5:40 pm on Friday, August 1, 2008, weighed 8 pounds and 14 ounces and measured at 20 ½ inches. He had a small laceration on his head, but no “conehead” despite his long stay in the birth canal and the use of the vacuum. Dan and I stayed in the hospital until Sunday evening, a time I’m so thankful for. The nurses were so helpful. They read our birth plan and were sorry that things hadn’t gone as planned – there was no attitude of “I told you so” or anything like that.

Right after the birth I told Dan that I was never getting pregnant again – and I meant it at the time. But I’ve thought about it some more, and I think I might be willing to, especially if I had Dr. Peterson (who could have easily pushed me into a c-section for failure to progress but he didn’t) delivering me and an epidural on hand in case I had back labor again: in other words, a hospital birth. I had preconceptions – some for valid reasons – about drugs in labor and hospital births – that were broken by my experience at Ball Memorial Hospital. Our goal in the end was to have a healthy baby and healthy mother. Harper is doing great (he gained his birth weight back in 5 days!), and I’m mending well. And, as cliché as it might be to say, in the end I would do all it again to have little Harper William Perkins as my son.