Thursday, July 15, 2010
Birth
So.
So.
He was born. I am a mother. I gave birth.
June 17. 3.22pm.
And now I can say, never think you know what you're talking about, because most likely, you don't.
Birth is a humbling experience.
Here is my story (the abridged version):
My water broke around 2am on June 16. I knew it had "broken" because I heard a small "pop" and had read that I would hear this. However, there was no gush. Just a trickle that continued throughout the night. At around 6am I woke my guy up and told him in an excited whisper that it was happening. Labor had started. Except, I had no contractions. We agreed he would go to work and I would see how the day went. I was nervous as once one's water breaks then you are on the clock, so to speak, and I wanted to make sure the contractions started.
Cut to: Around 1pm my guy came home and we tried nipple stimulation. Then, I drank Castor Oil. And then, the beasts of contractions started. I remember at my hypno-birthing course we were told that contractions were better (and more appropriately) known as "surges". All good in theory, however I prefer the word "ice pick in my uterus" (a.k.a. IPIMU). Then, I emptied out everything in my colon and then in my stomach. It was not pretty. So, I started having IPIMU's around 3pm so we got in the car and picked up the doula, Paula.
Cut to: I am writhing in pain and we arrive at the hospital only to find out I am only 2cm dilated and the natural birthing room I had my heart set on was possibly unavailable. They sent us out to walk around. So, we walked to the beach (the hospital is right on the beach) and watched the sunset and every few minutes I would stop walking and hunch over in agony. It was surprisingly painful.
Cut to: We arrive back at this hospital and now I am only 3cm dilated, but they let us into the natural birthing room (on the way I throw up again). They were not going to admit us to the natural birthing room but my guy really argued for me and they figured it out. So, we walk into this room and immediately I begin to feel better. I love this room. Big double bed and candles and an en suite bath and shower. Note: this was about 8pm. So i immediately get into the shower and don't care that I am naked and the doula is in there with me. The shower doesn't really help the IPIMU's.
Cut to: It's 5am. Previously the doula had mentioned that she sometimes agreed with people before labor that the code word for "epidural" would be "peanut butter", so she could talk about it with the client during labor and not have the hospital staff be put out. In any event, it's 5am and I find out I am only 5cm dilated and I cry "peanut butter". Well, I didn't really, I cried out, "I need an epidural". The doula asked if I really wanted it, but after looking into my eyes, my guy knew to take me seriously. We immediately were transferred to the "normal" room. I said good bye to the amazing midwife we had, and was wheeled out.
Cut to: The regular room sucked. There was nowhere for anybody to sit. It had bad lighting and was tiny. However, I had the epidural and for a good few hours I was happy. I was numb. I would have an IPIMU and not know it. HOWEVER, this was short lived. The epidural was wearing off on one side and so I started feeling those m**ther f*&kers again. And then I just wanted to MAKE IT STOP. I was wishing (secretly) for a c-section. Anything to put me out of my misery.
Cut to: Around 12pm in the afternoon and I was finally 10cms. This very Israeli hard core midwife kept telling me to push and pull my numb legs up but pulling a "dead" leg is not easy. And, I was in real pain. I was like, I don't get it, why is the epidural not working? I felt like I had been cheated. They give me Pitocin to speed things up.
Cut to: I guess around 2.45pm or so they tell me I need a vacuum delivery as it has been too long. That said, the constant thump of my baby's heart was consistent and we knew he was OK. I will never forget the eerie sound of the heart monitor all those hours. They told my guy and the doula to leave the room and about five other people rushed in. It was a strange sight and a little alarming. I didn't care though as I knew the end was in sight.
Cut to: I know they have a vacuum type thing they are using and all of a sudden I feel his head come out and then they say, OK, push the shoulders out now. And I do. And then they held him upside down and I saw a shock of black hair and quite frankly, I will never forget that image. I was in complete awe that this little being had been inside me. They called my guy back in and he cut the chord and then they whisked the baby to a bench and weighed and measured him. Then wrapped him up and brought him to me and I held him and then put him to my breast and he appeared to feed on it for a little bit.
Cut to: The damn placenta. That hurt. They pushed on my tummy and pulled it out. Meanwhile I found out they had cut me and so had to stitch me up. Which HURT. And then they had to put a catheter in me. Which HURT. Then my guy went with the baby to get checked in the nursery.
And there is more, but that's enough of the story.
So, here I am four weeks later. The birth was a very traumatic event for me. One of the most in my life. I have never experienced pain like that. My guy was amazing and breath taking and I am truly lucky to have had him by my side. But, it was as if I was ripped open. Emotionally. That birth altered who I am.
So all my months of talking about a "natural birth" and here I am. I had so many interventions. So I am humbled. I did labor naturally for as long as I could. I think if I had been dilated more I would have stuck at it, but by 5am I was too exhausted to keep going without the epidural. Did I feel like I failed? No. I did what I did. I wanted it to be different, but now I see what everyone was telling me- the birth isn't that important. I mean, it is on a profound level, but not in terms of how I gave birth. I wish he wasn't vacuumed out of me. I wish I wasn't cut. I wish wasn't given the drugs. But, it is what it is.
And now I have this being. And these four weeks have been really hard. And do I feel like I have bonded with him? More and more, but not as much as I thought. I don't think I expected him to come out so defined in terms of him being him. He is who he is and he doesn't feel like MY son, but a being I am helping into the world.
And, if I think back to that moment of seeing his little body for the first time with that head full of dark hair then yes, I am overcome.
Right now though, I am praying he sleeps for another half an hour.
Welcome son.
You are wanted and loved.
So.
He was born. I am a mother. I gave birth.
June 17. 3.22pm.
And now I can say, never think you know what you're talking about, because most likely, you don't.
Birth is a humbling experience.
Here is my story (the abridged version):
My water broke around 2am on June 16. I knew it had "broken" because I heard a small "pop" and had read that I would hear this. However, there was no gush. Just a trickle that continued throughout the night. At around 6am I woke my guy up and told him in an excited whisper that it was happening. Labor had started. Except, I had no contractions. We agreed he would go to work and I would see how the day went. I was nervous as once one's water breaks then you are on the clock, so to speak, and I wanted to make sure the contractions started.
Cut to: Around 1pm my guy came home and we tried nipple stimulation. Then, I drank Castor Oil. And then, the beasts of contractions started. I remember at my hypno-birthing course we were told that contractions were better (and more appropriately) known as "surges". All good in theory, however I prefer the word "ice pick in my uterus" (a.k.a. IPIMU). Then, I emptied out everything in my colon and then in my stomach. It was not pretty. So, I started having IPIMU's around 3pm so we got in the car and picked up the doula, Paula.
Cut to: I am writhing in pain and we arrive at the hospital only to find out I am only 2cm dilated and the natural birthing room I had my heart set on was possibly unavailable. They sent us out to walk around. So, we walked to the beach (the hospital is right on the beach) and watched the sunset and every few minutes I would stop walking and hunch over in agony. It was surprisingly painful.
Cut to: We arrive back at this hospital and now I am only 3cm dilated, but they let us into the natural birthing room (on the way I throw up again). They were not going to admit us to the natural birthing room but my guy really argued for me and they figured it out. So, we walk into this room and immediately I begin to feel better. I love this room. Big double bed and candles and an en suite bath and shower. Note: this was about 8pm. So i immediately get into the shower and don't care that I am naked and the doula is in there with me. The shower doesn't really help the IPIMU's.
Cut to: It's 5am. Previously the doula had mentioned that she sometimes agreed with people before labor that the code word for "epidural" would be "peanut butter", so she could talk about it with the client during labor and not have the hospital staff be put out. In any event, it's 5am and I find out I am only 5cm dilated and I cry "peanut butter". Well, I didn't really, I cried out, "I need an epidural". The doula asked if I really wanted it, but after looking into my eyes, my guy knew to take me seriously. We immediately were transferred to the "normal" room. I said good bye to the amazing midwife we had, and was wheeled out.
Cut to: The regular room sucked. There was nowhere for anybody to sit. It had bad lighting and was tiny. However, I had the epidural and for a good few hours I was happy. I was numb. I would have an IPIMU and not know it. HOWEVER, this was short lived. The epidural was wearing off on one side and so I started feeling those m**ther f*&kers again. And then I just wanted to MAKE IT STOP. I was wishing (secretly) for a c-section. Anything to put me out of my misery.
Cut to: Around 12pm in the afternoon and I was finally 10cms. This very Israeli hard core midwife kept telling me to push and pull my numb legs up but pulling a "dead" leg is not easy. And, I was in real pain. I was like, I don't get it, why is the epidural not working? I felt like I had been cheated. They give me Pitocin to speed things up.
Cut to: I guess around 2.45pm or so they tell me I need a vacuum delivery as it has been too long. That said, the constant thump of my baby's heart was consistent and we knew he was OK. I will never forget the eerie sound of the heart monitor all those hours. They told my guy and the doula to leave the room and about five other people rushed in. It was a strange sight and a little alarming. I didn't care though as I knew the end was in sight.
Cut to: I know they have a vacuum type thing they are using and all of a sudden I feel his head come out and then they say, OK, push the shoulders out now. And I do. And then they held him upside down and I saw a shock of black hair and quite frankly, I will never forget that image. I was in complete awe that this little being had been inside me. They called my guy back in and he cut the chord and then they whisked the baby to a bench and weighed and measured him. Then wrapped him up and brought him to me and I held him and then put him to my breast and he appeared to feed on it for a little bit.
Cut to: The damn placenta. That hurt. They pushed on my tummy and pulled it out. Meanwhile I found out they had cut me and so had to stitch me up. Which HURT. And then they had to put a catheter in me. Which HURT. Then my guy went with the baby to get checked in the nursery.
And there is more, but that's enough of the story.
So, here I am four weeks later. The birth was a very traumatic event for me. One of the most in my life. I have never experienced pain like that. My guy was amazing and breath taking and I am truly lucky to have had him by my side. But, it was as if I was ripped open. Emotionally. That birth altered who I am.
So all my months of talking about a "natural birth" and here I am. I had so many interventions. So I am humbled. I did labor naturally for as long as I could. I think if I had been dilated more I would have stuck at it, but by 5am I was too exhausted to keep going without the epidural. Did I feel like I failed? No. I did what I did. I wanted it to be different, but now I see what everyone was telling me- the birth isn't that important. I mean, it is on a profound level, but not in terms of how I gave birth. I wish he wasn't vacuumed out of me. I wish I wasn't cut. I wish wasn't given the drugs. But, it is what it is.
And now I have this being. And these four weeks have been really hard. And do I feel like I have bonded with him? More and more, but not as much as I thought. I don't think I expected him to come out so defined in terms of him being him. He is who he is and he doesn't feel like MY son, but a being I am helping into the world.
And, if I think back to that moment of seeing his little body for the first time with that head full of dark hair then yes, I am overcome.
Right now though, I am praying he sleeps for another half an hour.
Welcome son.
You are wanted and loved.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Countdown
I suppose I should write considering that this child could come any minute now and then I won't be the pregnant woman anymore, but the one with a baby. So, perhaps this is one of my last postings as a pregnant woman (and until I am pregnant again), or perhaps I will find the energy to write again.
Horrible night last night. I have a feeling his arrival is imminent and last night I was tossing and turning and feeling cramps. Added to this, I have a bad cold and so had to swap sides all night so I could breathe. Added to this, I am coughing a lot and read somewhere that coughing can start labor! So, I am trying to cough in a subdued manner. Bizarrely, the last two nights I have woken up many times to the sound of my own moaning in my sleep! Very strange. I think I go into some kind of mini-labor at night but then wake up and it goes away.
All this to say, I feel like crap. I get why women talk about these last few days/weeks as some of the most difficult. Maybe not as difficult as those first months for me (the horror), but hard in a different way. Right now, he is technically due in 11 days (the 24th), however I am thinking that around the 21st/22nd, if he hasn't come by then, I will try and kick start it. I plan to walk a lot and possibly drink castor oil to get labor going. I am not that worried about going a week past my due date, but anything more will make me nervous as I do not want to get induced.
Now that I am sick I keep telling the little guy to WAIT. But last night in my dreamless, moaning state, I was convinced he was coming. It's a strange place to be. I know all women have gone through these last few weeks always vigilant to the signs of labor...
I mostly just feel rotten. Tired. Heavy. Precarious.
And sometimes I get freaked out at the thought of my life never being the same again. There was me. Now there is me and another person forever linked. It's different than a romantic relationship, this one is indelible. And I worry about ever being spontaneous again. About how I will logistically operate in the world now.
And I also worry about the baby being born healthy and those initial few weeks....
Anyway. It's a train that has left the station. As I sit here and write I feel cramps again...
No poetic words. My life is about to get real. No longer a girl. Time to be a woman.
He will come when he is ready. When our bodies align. When the timing is right.
Until then, I will moan about feeling all kinds of strange things.
Horrible night last night. I have a feeling his arrival is imminent and last night I was tossing and turning and feeling cramps. Added to this, I have a bad cold and so had to swap sides all night so I could breathe. Added to this, I am coughing a lot and read somewhere that coughing can start labor! So, I am trying to cough in a subdued manner. Bizarrely, the last two nights I have woken up many times to the sound of my own moaning in my sleep! Very strange. I think I go into some kind of mini-labor at night but then wake up and it goes away.
All this to say, I feel like crap. I get why women talk about these last few days/weeks as some of the most difficult. Maybe not as difficult as those first months for me (the horror), but hard in a different way. Right now, he is technically due in 11 days (the 24th), however I am thinking that around the 21st/22nd, if he hasn't come by then, I will try and kick start it. I plan to walk a lot and possibly drink castor oil to get labor going. I am not that worried about going a week past my due date, but anything more will make me nervous as I do not want to get induced.
Now that I am sick I keep telling the little guy to WAIT. But last night in my dreamless, moaning state, I was convinced he was coming. It's a strange place to be. I know all women have gone through these last few weeks always vigilant to the signs of labor...
I mostly just feel rotten. Tired. Heavy. Precarious.
And sometimes I get freaked out at the thought of my life never being the same again. There was me. Now there is me and another person forever linked. It's different than a romantic relationship, this one is indelible. And I worry about ever being spontaneous again. About how I will logistically operate in the world now.
And I also worry about the baby being born healthy and those initial few weeks....
Anyway. It's a train that has left the station. As I sit here and write I feel cramps again...
No poetic words. My life is about to get real. No longer a girl. Time to be a woman.
He will come when he is ready. When our bodies align. When the timing is right.
Until then, I will moan about feeling all kinds of strange things.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Strange times
Note to self: do not read stupid vampire books which describe the pregnancy of a woman giving birth to a half vampire/half human baby. I have stopped reading and turned to an old copy of the New Yorker for sweet relief from the blood drinking vampire baby breaking the heroine's bones inside her.
That said, there is definitely a larger than life creature in here. When I look at first born photos I am amazed at how big the babies are. It is crazy to think I have a seven pound baby nestled inside me right now. I can't help but think he is going nuts in there all cramped and claustrophobic, but I guess he doesn't know any different.
Strange times now. Every day I wonder if this will be the day? The other day I was lying in bed and I projectile vomited into a nearby t-shirt. Lovely. For the rest of the day I felt nauseous and started to think this was one of the first signs of labor, ignoring the fact that I just ate two sandwiches with smoked salmon heaped on them. Then yesterday I started feeling mild cramps and started thinking, oh, maybe now?
So every day I am awaiting. I try and sit on the couch and listen to relaxing music to quell my anxiety. He will come when he comes. I will enjoy being a good mother to him. He will be a cute baby. It's difficult though. On the precipice of something so big.
Meanwhile, I bought him his first books yesterday. It was a cool feeling. Knowing that I was going to contribute to this little one's life. I have the responsibility of teaching and loving. My favorite of all books: "Why I Love My Daddy". I can't wait for my guy to read it to him.
It's the small things.
That said, there is definitely a larger than life creature in here. When I look at first born photos I am amazed at how big the babies are. It is crazy to think I have a seven pound baby nestled inside me right now. I can't help but think he is going nuts in there all cramped and claustrophobic, but I guess he doesn't know any different.
Strange times now. Every day I wonder if this will be the day? The other day I was lying in bed and I projectile vomited into a nearby t-shirt. Lovely. For the rest of the day I felt nauseous and started to think this was one of the first signs of labor, ignoring the fact that I just ate two sandwiches with smoked salmon heaped on them. Then yesterday I started feeling mild cramps and started thinking, oh, maybe now?
So every day I am awaiting. I try and sit on the couch and listen to relaxing music to quell my anxiety. He will come when he comes. I will enjoy being a good mother to him. He will be a cute baby. It's difficult though. On the precipice of something so big.
Meanwhile, I bought him his first books yesterday. It was a cool feeling. Knowing that I was going to contribute to this little one's life. I have the responsibility of teaching and loving. My favorite of all books: "Why I Love My Daddy". I can't wait for my guy to read it to him.
It's the small things.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
I'm next
A few months ago I met three other pregnant women by way of a pregnancy group that for various reasons we didn't end up attending. Instead though, we formed a friendship. All at different stages of pregnancy. I think I was around 25 weeks or so, maybe more at that point. A month ago, one of the women gave birth. And, last night another did. So, I'm next! The other woman has a couple of months to go. It has been wonderful knowing these new friends but even more so, fascinating to watch us all go through our various birth rites of passage one after the other. It seems that once one has given birth they are completely on the other side of the fence. That momentous occasion has occurred and life will never be the same. Meanwhile, I am still here, without a child, not a mother, but a fat woman with a very large tummy. However, in the space of one to three weeks, I will be on the other side.
My birth doula said something that resonated with me the other day. She said that giving birth, "is only one day of your life". And we spend these nine months frantically trying to prepare for it, but then it goes in a blink of an eye. I know my friend who gave birth a month ago barely registers the birth now, so preoccupied as she is with her beautiful new daughter. It's so existential. All so fleeting.
Anyway, I await, never ready, for his arrival. These days seem imbued with a potent feeling. I need to go to the DMV for my guy today. He says, you can go next week? But these days I can't take those kind of chances. Next week I may have a newborn? So strange waiting for the moment. But once it comes, I will be in it.
My friend who gave birth last night sent a text saying that "epidurals are wonderful". Every night these days I wake up with horrible back pain and I think to myself, will I be able to do it? I don't know. I really don't.
My birth doula said something that resonated with me the other day. She said that giving birth, "is only one day of your life". And we spend these nine months frantically trying to prepare for it, but then it goes in a blink of an eye. I know my friend who gave birth a month ago barely registers the birth now, so preoccupied as she is with her beautiful new daughter. It's so existential. All so fleeting.
Anyway, I await, never ready, for his arrival. These days seem imbued with a potent feeling. I need to go to the DMV for my guy today. He says, you can go next week? But these days I can't take those kind of chances. Next week I may have a newborn? So strange waiting for the moment. But once it comes, I will be in it.
My friend who gave birth last night sent a text saying that "epidurals are wonderful". Every night these days I wake up with horrible back pain and I think to myself, will I be able to do it? I don't know. I really don't.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Bodies
OK, so, a yeast infection, now a hemorrhoid and 50 pounds. Pregnancy is brilliant. I don't understand why there are so many nuances that can go wrong with our bodies when this is supposed to be "natural". OK, so I am not a believer in the bible, but lord, maybe we are being punished for that damn apple? All the guy has to do is....
I just feel lovely.
Saw another doctor the other day who also rammed (although more gently than the last one) a hand inside me and confirmed that the head was indeed low. However, I had an ultrasound yesterday and the woman said that he wasn't that low. She also confirmed that the little thing was seven pounds! (3.1 kilos). And I am only 37 weeks! So, all I can do is pray he doesn't grow too much in the next few weeks.
Getting more nervous every day. How will I find out I am in labor? Will my waters gush in a cafe? Will I get the "bloody show"? How much is it going to hurt? Oh yeah, A LOT. I was reading someone's blog post the other day and they said that labor felt like an ice pick in her uterus. Nice.
Soon enough I will be posting here and the story will have unfolded. And I can guarantee that the story I post will be different than the "story" in my head. Until then, I try and visualize what I hope. That I will have a slow and gentle start to labor. That our doula will come over and let us know the right time to drive to the hospital. We will arrive at the hospital and the natural birthing room will be available. I will set up my iPod and lower the lighting and take showers and breath and not panic. And eventually, he will come. Healthy.
For now, I will try and work out my hemorrhoid cream instructions.
I just feel lovely.
Saw another doctor the other day who also rammed (although more gently than the last one) a hand inside me and confirmed that the head was indeed low. However, I had an ultrasound yesterday and the woman said that he wasn't that low. She also confirmed that the little thing was seven pounds! (3.1 kilos). And I am only 37 weeks! So, all I can do is pray he doesn't grow too much in the next few weeks.
Getting more nervous every day. How will I find out I am in labor? Will my waters gush in a cafe? Will I get the "bloody show"? How much is it going to hurt? Oh yeah, A LOT. I was reading someone's blog post the other day and they said that labor felt like an ice pick in her uterus. Nice.
Soon enough I will be posting here and the story will have unfolded. And I can guarantee that the story I post will be different than the "story" in my head. Until then, I try and visualize what I hope. That I will have a slow and gentle start to labor. That our doula will come over and let us know the right time to drive to the hospital. We will arrive at the hospital and the natural birthing room will be available. I will set up my iPod and lower the lighting and take showers and breath and not panic. And eventually, he will come. Healthy.
For now, I will try and work out my hemorrhoid cream instructions.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Very low
So, I went to the doctor yesterday. It was not a great experience. I want to say the doctors here suck, but doctors suck all over the world. What I miss is any kind of tenderness. Any awareness that it is another person's body they are tampering with. Not a conglomeration of skin and cells to be meddled with. I say this because I had asked the doctor to take a look at my pee-exhausted nether regions to make sure all looked normal and healthy. I have been peeing every ten minutes or so lately and I have felt quite raw. So, I put my legs up in those insane stirrups (they don't use the stirrups in Australia or the U.S. to my recollection) and he jams/rams/slams his hand (although it feels like an arm) up inside me. It hurt. It hurt a lot. And it also hurt because I wasn't ready for this "assault" and as I had said, the whole area is tender and sensitive. As he squirmed inside he said, "The baby's head is very low, very low".
After he took his hand/arm out he again repeated the verdict. And, "You will deliver before your delivery date. Very soon probably".
I ambled back to the chair almost in tears. Why? More because of the sense of invasion I felt. Of my own corporeal privacy and the privacy of the baby itself. It didn't need its head felt by this man. It was a strange feeling. The realness of it all hit home. There was something in me and it has to come out. And his little head can be felt inside me, ready, waiting to come out...
I emailed the woman who I hope to have as my birth doula when I returned home. Eager to seek comfort in a more gentle wisdom. She told me that the head being low isn't necessarily a indicator and women can even deliver late even if the head is "engaged". I went online and found a lot which asserts this also.
So, so, now I am not sure what to think except that I don't feel ready, however will I ever?
This is life. No control. Never ready for what is next. And again, who would have thought, this day a year ago I would meet the father of this baby? Not me. I was walking slowly to the cafe where I would end up meeting him, lethargic, annoyed, not really paying attention to the foot prints I was leaving in the brown dust road. Foot prints. Feet, that would take me to
him
and the
"very low" head
inside
me.
After he took his hand/arm out he again repeated the verdict. And, "You will deliver before your delivery date. Very soon probably".
I ambled back to the chair almost in tears. Why? More because of the sense of invasion I felt. Of my own corporeal privacy and the privacy of the baby itself. It didn't need its head felt by this man. It was a strange feeling. The realness of it all hit home. There was something in me and it has to come out. And his little head can be felt inside me, ready, waiting to come out...
I emailed the woman who I hope to have as my birth doula when I returned home. Eager to seek comfort in a more gentle wisdom. She told me that the head being low isn't necessarily a indicator and women can even deliver late even if the head is "engaged". I went online and found a lot which asserts this also.
So, so, now I am not sure what to think except that I don't feel ready, however will I ever?
This is life. No control. Never ready for what is next. And again, who would have thought, this day a year ago I would meet the father of this baby? Not me. I was walking slowly to the cafe where I would end up meeting him, lethargic, annoyed, not really paying attention to the foot prints I was leaving in the brown dust road. Foot prints. Feet, that would take me to
him
and the
"very low" head
inside
me.
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