february 18, 2014
8.1 lbs
hot dang... we did it!
i have to say... several weeks later and i'm still feeling a bit like SheRa: Princess of Power. kjaer (who is HeMan... i mean, obviously) and i had fought a 58 hour epic battle... and we won.
it started sunday morning, a day before i was due, when i peed myself.
just kidding... i thought i peed myself in my sleep. it was one of those humiliating pregnant moments... as if pregnant women don't have enough of those... where i felt something wake me up and thought... "well sh**". i rolled out of bed like a turtle stuck on it's shell and waddled off to the bathroom. but when i hit the hallway i knew something was different and i felt a big splash. i stood there in a puddle of wetness, kind of in shock, because i was so certain that baby k2 would come late since leif did. i had an internal dialogue going...
am i so pregnant i can't even control my bladder?
then...
did my water break?
that couldn't have been my water!
and then i heard myself cry out a couple of times in a reserved yet alarmed voice, KJAAAAEEERRR!
but alas, the man was asleep and he requires more than a whimper from the bathroom to awaken him. so, being sure to move our freshly cleaned bathroom rug out of the way (remember i had gone into ultra cleaning mode a couple of weeks ago? i couldn't possibly risk getting the clean rug dirty!) i started cleaning up the mess. but more liquid kept coming. finally, i faced reality and wrapped a towel between my legs and waddled over into the darkness of our room and woke kjaer up...
i think my water just broke...
our house went into a sudden bustle. i texted our doula, who knew better than i that labor would probably not start for awhile, and we began to ready ourselves for the hospital. we had to go to the hospital because this pregnancy i was strep b positive and i had been told by the midwives that i could labor at home until my water broke, upon which they'd want to start antibiotics right away. well... of course we had to do it backwards and my water broke before my contractions came. my doula had indicated we could probably stay at home... but you guys know me. i was already feeling nervous about the whole VBAC thing and i'm kind of a control freak (snort!) so we decided to head in. my mother in law came and picked up leif and we were off... a pile of towels under me... to the hospital.
our hearts were racing... we were giddy with excitement. (and we missed leif terribly already!)
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| breakfast at the hospital |
once i got to the hospital they confirmed it was my water and then let me know that it could take another 12-24 hours for labor to start. they admitted me and then told us to go grab some breakfast. so kjaer and i fled the campus for burger king and brought it back to the hospital where we sat in a sun-shiney spot and talked excitedly. after we went upstairs, they started me on antibiotics and we settled into our labor room to wait and rest. i'd have occasional contractions, but mostly it was just a peaceful waiting time. i napped a little, though i was too excited to really sleep deeply.
around 9 in the evening kjaer and i were exhausted from sitting around and waiting. we decided to go to bed. we pulled out kjaer's hide-a-bed and snuggled up together for the night. an hour later, my labor started. it was fairly mild... enough that i could breath through it and go back to sleep in between contractions. but mild labor only lasted an hour and pretty soon i was having strong contractions... with the dreaded back labor.
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| my massive profile - when labor started |
in spite of all of my hullabaloo about an unmedicated birth... i've always deep down been terrified of back labor. in fact, i wouldn't even say the words aloud for fear that i would be cursed with it.
but clearly that didn't matter, because i had it... and it sucked...
...and not just a little.
the nurse and kjaer were incredible. i was having double and triple contractions and they were right there with me. the midwife that night was more hands off. she tried talking with me, but i was so tired i couldn't respond so she asked me if i needed some quiet. i responded yes... which i realize now might have seemed rude... but she asked! she left and i hardly saw her again. by four or five in the morning i was in such intense pain i could hardly handle it. i thought for sure i was at 5 centimeters because i had been laboring so hard and working like a champ. the nurse decided to get me into the tub because she could tell i was in so much pain. the tub felt good, but when i knew it was slowing things down i wanted to jump out. i didn't want to go backwards. but it was too late. it stalled.
at some point they finally checked to see how far i had dilated... i was 1 1/2 centimeters. this was pretty frustrating since i had been dilated a centimeter a week before my water had even broken and had been laboring all night like a mad woman. when the midwives changed shifts, claudia came in... a midwife i had worked with for the past several weeks. she had me start pumping and get labor going again. (who knew, right?)
by lunchtime i was sick of the breast pump. i would stare at it in disdain between contractions and curse it every time i had to use it. labor would start, i'd labor for an hour or so and stall and have to go back and pump again. i hated that damn pump. i wanted to throw it out the window.
by this time claudia was bringing up the dreaded "p" word... pitocin. i could feel myself react like a pissed off cat internally when it was brought up.... i think because i knew that if they started pitocin i would have more intense contractions than i would if i were naturally in labor... and to be honest, i wasn't sure if i could handle that after the previous night of back labor. i also knew that the risks to my baby (and myself) went up with more medical interventions. i wanted to stay away from that at all costs.
so we called in the big guns, whitney, our doula. i have to say, i'm so glad we made the decision to have whitney there... her expertise was invaluable and helped us make a lot of key decisions over those next 30 hours that proved to be the right ones. so she came to the hospital, along with a bottle of castor oil. she talked with us about how castor oil usually gets things started within 1-2 doses or so. when claudia came back to check on me, probably certain i would be ready to start pitocin, i asked her if she could give me 4 hours to try a dose of castor oil. she was pretty open to it... though i know she was hesitant because the longer we stretched out labor, the more we were increasing the risk of infection to the baby and i.
i should probably pause the storytelling here to clarify that the only reason i kept moving forward without medical intervention was because Henley and i were both doing so well. had her heart rate dropped or if i was showing signs of infection (a temperature) i would have stopped pushing forward and done what the midwives recommended. i NEVER would have put Henley or myself in a position where either of us would be at risk. i'm only saying this because i think so many people who have heard this story wondered why kjaer and i would keep going for as long as we did... and that's why. never once did Henley show signs of distress or did i show signs of infection.
so i took the castor oil...a 1/2 of a dose... with a cup of orange juice (BLECH) and waited. during this time i took another nap while whitney hung out at the hospital. when i woke up, she and i walked the halls for awhile to try to get labor started and talked. during this time she talked to me a little more about pitocin. she had said that if we could just get me to dilate to at least 2 cm, i would have a much better chance with pitocin than if i was at 1. she had seen too many births go south (c-section) because pitocin was started too early (between 0 and 1 cm). i think it was her way of prepping me too, and letting me stay more open to the idea that we may have to use medicine as an intervention. but, deep down, i was still clinging to my unmedicated birth.
four hours later, nothing had happened and it seemed like claudia was anxious to start the pitocin. baby k2 and i were still doing well, so i asked for 4 more hours to take a second dose of castor oil and brought out the dreaded breast pump again. i could tell i was frustrating her a bit. but i promised her that if nothing was happening by 10 that evening, we could start pitocin.
so this time i took a full dose and got to work with that wretched pump. within an hour i was in active labor. it was dinner time and i was trying to eat through it. we sent whitney home because she had been up for two nights in a row with other births and we wanted her well rested for when we really needed her. she said to call her at any point we needed her and headed home. at first i was feeling like a rockstar. kjaer and i had this sort of dance going on. but soon i required more than two hands. i needed kjaer in front of me and then the nurse and the midwife applying pressure to my back. pretty soon i was in such intense labor i was throwing up. i was having triple contractions and i'm pretty sure the whole labor and delivery floor could hear my moans and cries. but i clung to that 4-5 centimeter mark... because i knew that then i could get into the tub without labor stalling. so i tried to power through.
it was during this time where i felt so intensely close to my husband. i've always been proud of the team that we are, the way we communicate and how we work through things together. but this was a different sort of challenge... and i've never been more proud of us. we were the a-team... well, kjaer was the a-team. he handled me like a pro, and i wasn't always the easiest person to pacify. after all, i couldn't talk because i was just trying to breath through contractions. he had read that this would happen later in labor and that often women would slap at their partners or use gestures since they couldn't communicate any other way. ummm... that definitely happened a few times. he read me like a book and he did it without taking any of it personally... because of course he was doing a fabulous job, i was just in the worst pain of my life. truthfully, if i had to choose one person in the world to go through that with... midwives, doulas, nurses, doctors included... it was him. you could've eliminated any one else in the room... if we were in some dark cave and i got to pick one person to be with me to get me through that, it would've been him. when that pain hit, i wanted his body in front of me. i would throw my arms around him and inhale his delicious smell and feel his strong hands on my back as he whispered to me. he always knew the right things to say and didn't falter when it got ugly.
and it did get ugly... i mean, i did take two doses of castor oil... need i say more?
we had set a deadline to measure me... 2 in the morning. so i kept trying to power through the intense labor. the whole time i was having visions of being in a nice warm tub, which i knew would help my back pain so much. by the time they measured me, i was writhing... i mean w.r.i.t.h.i.n.g. in agony. they had to wait for my triple contractions to stop, lay me down (which is impossible when you are in hard labor and weigh a million pounds) and check.
and here is the first time i really got mad a God.
i was so sure with how hard i was working and because of the terrible back labor, that i would be at least 4 cm. but no... i was 2 cm. i had been working my butt off for 8 hours and had dilated a whole 1/2 a cm.
if you've been keeping track of this timeline, you can see that we had now been up for almost 48 hours straight and i had progressed a whopping 1 cm in the 30 hours of active labor i had traversed through so far.
we were getting no where
(except when you consider that our doula's goal was to get to at least 2 cm... which we did)
i felt so exhausted. i didn't have the energy to go on. if it took me 24 hours to gain a half of a centimeter, i'd be in the hospital for weeks! i couldn't bare the thought of back labor with triple contractions for days and days. the midwife advised that i get an epidural since my labor wasn't really progressing and i was so fatigued she was concerned i wouldn't have the energy i needed at the end to push. i felt like 48 hours was a good shot and kept the ultimate goal in mind... a VBAC. it was more important to me than accepting medication.
it took 3 times for the anesthesiologist to get the epidural in. every time he'd miss i'd see kjaer's face fall with that look that says, "COME ON, MAN! get my poor woman out of this misery!" when the epidural went in i fell asleep almost immediately after it had taken effect.
i slept for about 3 hours. i have vague memories of nurses coming in and rolling me from side to side. they'd say, "the baby doesn't like that side so we're going to move you." then they'd come in again and say the same thing and roll me again. i woke up around 5 to them strapping oxygen on me and mentioning "the baby" again.
and here is the lowest point of my whole experience...
as i laid there in that dark room, dead weight for legs and oxygen on my face, i mulled over my sleepy memories and worried that i was doomed for a c-section. this moment is so clear to me because it was that point where everything i had fought for... not only in the last 50 hours... but the last nine months... wasn't going to happen. the dark room felt like a dark pit... so symbolic of the defeat i was feeling. i tried to tell myself i had done everything possible. but deep down i felt so crushed.
it was a dark place for me...
it was a dark place for me...
the nurse, who had helped us labor through the night, came in to check on me and i looked at her with weepy eyes and asked, rather pitifully i might add, "am i getting a c-section?"
i swear the girl was an angel in disguise. she smiled so reassuringly and said, "no... you're doing so well. the baby looks great and your contractions are regular now. they are going to measure you later this morning to see how far you've progressed. it's not over yet!"
they had started pitocin while i was sleeping because the contractions had stalled (...AGAIN!) and i was now having regular, strong contractions. so i sat in bed to relax and wait. as the morning went on, i decided that i might as well look good for pictures (i mean, DUH!)... so i put on make-up while i chatted with my mom on the phone. as i was talking with her, i started feeling a strange sensation in my derriere. it started to intensify so much that i'd have to stop talking to my mom and breath through it.
i told the new nurse for the day, "i'm feeling pain... shooting pain, in my butt."
she'd say, "yes dear, pressure is normal."
and i'd get that nervous, high pitched voice and answer, "no... not pressure... pain."
pretty soon i was having to brace myself for each contraction, because it would send shooting pains, like knives, through my... well, you know... rear-end. the midwife came in and looked at me quizzically, and said, "something big must be happening for you to be feeling that kind of pressure."
and i'd correct her and say, "pain."
the anesthesiologist came in and told me she could try to place another epidural. she said that nine times out of ten it would help and rarely did it not help. but she wanted to see how far i progressed before she placed it.
i was back to being extremely uncomfortable but handling it the best i could, especially because i couldn't get up and walk it off like before due to the dead weight i had for legs. the midwife measured and i was 5 cm. i thought the whole room would erupt into high fives... and she looked at me reassuringly and said, "it looks like you're going to have your VBAC!"
the anesthesiologist put in a fresh epidural (for the fourth time for those keeping track) and i waited for the pain in my booty to subside... which it did.
but within an hour i could feel every contraction in my front end... and they kept getting more and more intense. so basically, my epidural took my back labor away... but i was about to have an unmedicated birth... even though technically i was medicated.
i have to admit, after all i had gone through, i got a little mad at God a second time here. my visions of epidurals were that you got to sit back, relax and enjoy your painless birth (my vision might have included kjaer and i toasting with champagne glasses, too... but whatever) ... and here i was, experiencing pain as if i was having an unmedicated birth.
truthfully, it kind of felt like a sick joke.
truthfully, it kind of felt like a sick joke.
the pain kept escalating until i was clinging to kjaer's hands and crying out during each contraction. the midwife came in, looking confused again. when she checked me i was 7 cm in between contractions but 9 centimeters during a contraction. she smiled at me and said, "you're gonna have this baby very soon!"
kjaer called our doula down and we readied ourselves to meet our newest little one.
well, i didn't ready myself. i rolled with the waves of the contractions. i feel like things got very primal for me... and that i almost turned into another creature. i'm sure my eyes glazed over and i seemed like an entirely different person... because i felt like a different person. it's like i went deep inside of myself to work through the greatest obstacle of my life, and the only person who could reach me was kjaer. this part of my memory is a little fuzzy. i have snapshots of memories, like Polaroid pictures in my mind that i can flip through. if i could walk you through these dreamlike memories... you would see my face right up against kjaer's face while i clung to him (although i can't remember exactly what part of him i was holding onto... that's how vague the whole thing is). i'm not sure the reasoning, but i needed him right up in my face, needed to hear his voice, feel his strong hands, smell his smell. he'd ask me in between contractions if i'd want ice chips and i'd fall into a deep, deep 15 second sleep while he scooped them from a cup and then shake me to wake me up and feed them to me. once he asked me if i wanted chapstick and i fell asleep. when he woke me up i tried to eat it, thinking it was ice chips. during contractions i can clearly recall looking down at my midwife and seeing "other" people i didn't recognize and wondering who the heck they were, but not really caring enough to find out. i couldn't talk anyway so i suppose it didn't matter. when things got really serious, they repositioned me and i remember my doula coaching me while she held one of my legs. i think i was on my right side and she'd say something to the effect of, "with your next contraction i want you to take that sound your making and turn it into a lion's growl." then she'd make the sound for me so i could hear it. and what do you know, next contraction i'd get kjaer right up in my face, she'd hand me my leg so i could bear down and then i'd start to make the sound she told me and i could feel the baby move down. it was amazing. so my clearest memories are of my husband when i'd open my eyes and listening for my doula's voice coaching me.
at some point i felt a change and kjaer's cheering would get more enthusiastic. the doula would tell me to do something, i'd do it and kjaer would excitedly say, "keep doing that, keep doing that." and i knew he must be seeing some sort of progression. when i heard him say, "reach down and feel the head," i knew we were close. once i could feel her head, it was like that last quarter mile of a half marathon. i had a sudden burst of energy and knew i could finish this.
i remember the "ring of fire" hurting... and that thought of oh, so THAT's why they call it the ring of fire! and then i remember that in between the contractions, henley would slip back in and the next contraction i'd have to bare the "ring of fire" again and thinking, what.the.heck. i thought you only had to do the ring of fire once! at some point i recall thinking, who the h** cares how bad it hurts... it's going to hurt until you push her out... so PUSH!!!
henley was born shortly after that.
it was the most amazing and rewarding accomplishment of my life.
the room flew into activity and i feel like i kind of started to come out of my fog... or zone... or tunnel... or whatever it was. henley wasn't crying, so the pediatric team took her to suction her lungs out with kjaer right there. a nurse next to my bed said, "it's a boy!!!" i remember feeling authentically surprised, because deep down i had always felt like i was going to have a girl. kjaer told me that at that same time a dr. over with him said, "it's a girl!!" and he was angry because he had wanted to tell me and i had heard it from some stranger. but during that time i was busy delivering the placenta and listening to my midwife coach me so i had never heard it. when that last part of business was done, i asked "so we had a boy?" the midwife smiled and said, "daddy, are you going to tell her what you had?"
and kjaer turned around and said, "we had a little girl!"
i knew it!!!!
as i reflect on those 58 hours, i feel so amazed and blessed at how each part... whether frustrating or exciting... was grooming me for the next chapter of our adventure. i find it mind blowing that pitocin... the dreaded drug i wanted nothing to do with... actually saved my VBAC. without it i'm pretty sure we would have ended up having a c-section. i now find it such a blessing that the epidural didn't numb my pain (well, actually... it DID take away the back labor... pa-raise Jesus!) and that even though i was "medicated" i experienced an unmedicated birth just like i had originally wanted. this was like facing my own personal mt. everest and summiting... i can't even describe the emotions that go with this to you. i heard a woman once describe labor as an empowering time when a woman faces her biggest, darkest trial in life... and overcomes it. and how it's then that she truly understands that she can do anything. that's as close as i can get to how i felt.
i felt a little guilty about this... because leif's birth wasn't the experience i had hoped for. of course, we got our beautiful little boy out of the whole thing and he and i were healthy, which is what really matters... but it had been emotionally and physically traumatic for me. i felt robbed and exposed and invaded by the doctors.
however, it was brought to my attention by my wise mother that leif's birth taught me about perseverance. the weeks and months following leif's birth were full of challenges that i had never expected: recovering from a major surgery, breast feeding issues, post-partum depression. all of these things were trials that i had to persevere through. sometimes it felt like i was walking through wet concrete with lead boots on. i remember that about 5 or 6 months after he was born, i felt like i finally came out of the fog and could really enjoy being a mother to my beautiful son. but it wasn't until i had persevered through some challenging issues that i never had thought of facing.
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henley's birth, and the last couple of months leading up to it, taught me about another facet of myself i had not seen yet... that i'm a fighter. when i began suspecting my doctor's intentions a couple of months before i was due... i did the scariest thing anyone could have ever done in my very pregnant shoes... i left her safety zone and went out into the world where i didn't know anyone anymore. we researched and interviewed... it was totally stressful... until we found a place that lined up with our expectations (6 weeks before we were due). and then we waited. when i went into labor (or at least when my water broke) i thought i'd have your typical 24 hour labor and have a baby. i didn't think i, of all people, would be the woman who powered (and cried and sometimes screamed) her way through 58 hours of endless back labor and triple contractions. i didn't think i would be the woman who would decline suggestions of her midwife in order to try castor oil (another game-changer for us... don't think i would have hit 2 cm without it). i didn't think i would give in for an epidural... only to have it not work and power through the pain to have our baby. leif taught me to never give up... and henley taught me that i'm a fighter... that when i want something, i will fight hard enough for it and i won't stop until i have it.
it's amazing how God uses these little creatures He blesses us with to teach us about parts of ourselves we hadn't even known before. now i know that you can put any obstacle in front of me, and i can rise to the occasion... especially if it involves my little ones and my man. i'm a mama and wife who will not accept defeat, who perseveres and fights for what she believes in.
i'm a warrior.
i'm a warrior.
