Nov. 11, Remembrance Day 2013: 8 am, I woke up with some discomfort; somehow I knew this feeling was different from the practice contractions I had felt in the past. I was a week past my estimated due date now. A few hours passed, I decided to call my mom to let her know that I was definitely having true contractions, but I was not yet uncomfortable enough through them for her to make her way over to our house. Mike was off work because it was a holiday, I was relieved for him to be with me and not be alone during early labour.
I did not take a prenatal class, I decided I would not need one because I felt very informed from my previous Doula training. I wanted Mike and my Mom present for our first birth, my mom was also there to act as my Doula. I had tried to get a midwife for our birth, around 12 weeks pregnant, but unfortunately was declined due to the high volume of births for November that year. I was informed, first time birthers, tend to change their minds more often about their original birth plan, such as medication or location. Secondly, labour can last much longer with your first birth than consecutive births. To say the least, I was pretty disappointed about not having a midwife and not having the option of a Birth Centre birth. I was not interested in a home birth. Our 500 square foot home filled with 3 animals wasn’t my idea of a relaxing environment, so I settled for St. Boniface Hospital and needed to make the most it. One draw of St. Boniface were the birthing tubs, although you could not birth your baby in them, I was glad to have that option.
About 4 hours passed, now it was around noon. I called my mom, with more urgency in my voice, telling her I needed her to come over right away. I wanted her to come to our house first so that we could all go to the hospital together. In the same breath, I wanted to see how much longer I could cope with the contractions at home. Once my mom got to our place, we stayed only an hour longer, gathering items to take to the hospital and to be sure Mike’s mom was free to watch the pets. I was focusing on breathing through my contractions, I could not hold a conversation with anyone during my contractions anymore. Some ways I coped at home were by using the exercise ball, rocking back and forth on it in a squatted position, other times I was in the bathroom with the worst stomach cramps, bracing onto the sink until my contractions would pass. For an hour or longer my contractions were consistently 5 minutes apart. I would have stayed home longer, but my fear of birthing our baby in our car was strong. The car ride to the hospital was the second worst experience I had during this birth. I could not sit in a safe seated position in the car, so I did not buckle myself up. The only way I felt comfortable was kneeling on the backseat and holding onto the headrest. I remember very little of the drive to the hospital. I was so focused on what was going on in my body, whenever I looked out the window it was just a haze. I didn’t recognize buildings or the cars passing by. The walk into the hospital was easier, I could be upright as each wave of contractions came, I could stop and brace myself in a way that felt most comfortable.
Finally we arrived on the third floor in St. Boniface Hospital and headed to triage. Now the time was around 2-2:30 pm. It was amusing to me that they expected you to be able to fill out forms and have the capacity to focus while you’re labouring. Next, the nurses did a cervix check, I was 5 cm dilated. I was relieved that we did not come too early and be sent back home. For the cervix check, I had to lay down. It was probably the most uncomfortable position I could have been asked to be in during labour. Then they strapped me to the electronic fetal monitoring machine and failed to let me know that I didn’t have to remain laying down. It felt like the longest 30-60 minutes of my life. My time spent in triage was the most unpleasant part of my birth, I have no kinder words to use. Multiple times I was asked about the hole in my baby's heart. Interestingly, this was the first time any health concern was brought to our attention. Not once were we previously informed of any heart defects at any appointments or ultrasounds. So, naturally my cortisol levels were through the roof. Our baby, in fact, did not have a hole in their heart, they were reading someone else’s chart. Then when I was asked to change into a gown, I expressed that I felt more comfortable with my sports bra on. I was told, I needed to be prepared for it to be ruined because they would have to cut it off if I had to be rushed in for surgery. Well thank you again, for making me feel so calm and reassured about my low risk labour. Lastly, I had approval from my OB that I would be allowed to have a lock IV, to receive the medication I required for being GBS positive. The triage nurse insisted that it had to be done her way, put the IV in my hand and sent me off with an IV line and bag. I was very distraught at this point. The only thing I wasn’t fought on was the fact that I could receive a private room on the low risk birthing side of the maternity ward. Thank goodness.
Now I was settled in our room, dimmed the lights, shut the door, and settled on my birthing ball. The lovely head nurse checked on me, she was also confused as to why the triage nurse did not give me the IV lock I asked for. She immediately removed the hand IV, relocated the IV in my arm with a lock effortlessly. She was an angel. This allowed me more comfort and mobility, and in turn; I was able to relax more. Another blessing I had was the nurse whom I had assigned directly to my care; she was amazingly respectful, calm and caring. My hopes are that everyone receives this type of care in any hospital setting, unfortunately it’s not always a reality. She read through my birth plan, respected my request to have intermittent fetal monitoring, so I would not be bed ridden and attached to a machine the whole labour. She made sure that no students entered my room, as I have always been a very private person. She supported my natural birth plan and did not offer any interventions, she stepped in only when I needed a gentle reminder. The people around you can 100 percent affect your experience, no doubt about it. My Mom and Mike helped me with simple, kind gestures like applying lip chap, offering me water, supporting me while going to the bathroom, and changing positions.
Every time our baby's heart rate was checked, I would try to stay still, calm, and take deep mindful breaths. Every time they found the heartbeat and there was no cause for concern of the heart rate, I knew I was one step closer to having the non medicated, low intervention birth I envisioned and hoped for. Most of the time I was swaying back and forth on the birthing ball trying to stay in an upright position to allow for gravity to work it’s magic, in a squat to optimally open my pelvis. I was also moaning through my contractions, trying to keep my tone low and calm. I was told, my moaning freaked both Mike and my Mom out.
We were getting into the evening hours, 8-9 pm. I had no idea what my mom and Mike were up to this entire time, other than the intermittent thoughtful gestures, reassurance and check ins. I know at one point, I did need a fan because I was getting overheated. The OB on call was not the one I was seeing for my prenatal appointments. It was the first time I met her and she was pretty pregnant herself. She was going to do a cervical check to see where my dilation was at, I was fully dilated. I was told my bag of waters was bulging and that baby’s head was not fully engaged because of the amniotic sac. It was extremely hard to lay on my back during these checks, especially through a contraction. I could not focus on anything until but the pain while being in a stagnant position. There were words exchanged that I did not hear or respond to, because I was trying to cope with the immense discomfort of laying on my back. Next, I saw the OB pull out what looked like a giant crochet needle and start to bring it towards me. I yelled out “What are you doing?!” and started crying. I was so upset because I felt I was not properly informed on what she was about to do, and that she was performing something without my consent. She then paused, waited for me to calm and listen to what she had wanted to do, she wanted to break my water in the hopes the baby's head would engage. This gave me time to process and decide if this is what I wanted. By this time I was extremely exhausted and agreed to breaking my water. I hoped it would help me to meet our baby sooner.
We did not know if we were having a boy or a girl, it was suspenseful and exciting to have a surprise at the end of all of the hard work. The OB broke my water, I felt a huge gush of warm fluid, now I had the sudden urge to use the bathroom. Did I have to pee? Not sure. Did I want to just clean myself up a bit? I can’t fully remember. After sitting on the toilet for a very short time, the baby was ready to make their appearance. I was very scared of the sensations to come, the one that all mothers before me had shared stories about. That raw Mother Nature feeling, an urge you have zero control over, no matter how scared or worried you are of the inevitable, powerful surges to come. At the same time, I was so ready to have my baby in arms and meet the little person that Mike and I created.
It was around 10pm now. I only found comfort in a hands and knees position on the hospital bed, holding on for dear life, onto the top of the inclined bed. This probably gave my Mom and Mike’s hands a good rest from the death grip squeeze. The nurse kept on reminding me to keep my voice low, so that my vocal cords would be relaxed, a tension area that is so easily forgotten. I had contractions that I could not help but push, and pushing into the sensation made the contractions more bearable. I also credit the birthing position I was in to having zero back labour, any weight from the baby and pressure was off my back. I pushed for about 40 minutes, Mike on one side, my mom on the other. I could feel their excitement and listened to their encouraging words. I can remember voices saying to use every contraction to push, even the little ones. I don’t think that ended up being a great idea, because the baby came fast and it didn’t give my perineum enough time to stretch sufficiently. It resulted in a good third degree tear, some lovely stitches afterwards and some very painful poops for a few weeks. Then all 8 pounds 14 ounces of our baby arrived, after lots of effortful bloodshot eye pushing. The OB caught our baby at 11:15pm and announced to us that we had welcomed a baby girl Earth side. I was exhausted, relieved and shocked. Most of my family and friends had anticipated us welcoming a boy, and I started to believe it myself. So I asked the doctor and nurse to confirm. Are you sure? Can you check again?
Once I had the strength to turn over, lay down and look at our baby girl, I felt like a new woman. My lady bits weren’t hurting anymore, my belly felt a relief, and my 9 months of nausea disappeared instantly. Most importantly I was holding my fresh babe on my chest, covered in amniotic fluid, blood and vernix. She had a little bit of hair on her head and was crying. Hearing the first cry, the first flood of oxygen into their little lungs is the most reassuring feeling for any parent, I believe. Everyone was crying and I was in love immediately.
The OB and nurse were doing all of their medical examinations on me. Checking my blood loss, seeing how I was feeling. I honestly felt fantastic, I think I caught a third wind. The second wind happened after wanting to give up during transition labour. I wanted to go home and call it quits, pack up my stuff because I decided we weren't having this baby anymore. You then accept the hard truth, there was no turning back. I was injected with pitocin to get the birth of my placenta going. We waited until the cord stopped pulsing before it was cut, to ensure all the blood passed through the placenta to Billie. We did not do zinc oxide, the gel they put in the babies eyes, we wanted to avoid interrupted bonding. We also held off on all assessments on her until we were settled and comfortable to let her go. Now I was getting my stitches, which was so much fun....not. The lights were dimmed for approximately 8 hours, to now having the fluorescents on full blast. Having all your damaged lady parts exposed to everyone and a bonus fancy ceiling mirror positioned perfectly so you can see exactly what has become of you was awesome. The OB advised me the stitches were not something I would want her to rush through, I agreed. Afterwards the nurse massaged my fundus, the third worst part of my birth. They continued to monitor me for blood loss and wanted to make sure I could pee. Billie was being assessed at the same time, getting her vitamin K shot, diapered and clothed. We initiated breastfeeding within the first two hours. It went well, except for the cluster feeding that occurred for what felt like the next 3-4 days.
We stayed the night, some family visited that same night. We didn’t hardly sleep, the hospital staff don’t want you holding your baby while you are exhausted and trying to sleep. Also, the hospital bed for yourself and the bed for your baby were not very ergonomically friendly. There were many staff coming in and out all night and day. A nurse gave Billie her first bath, the following day. They did her blood test where they prick her heel and squeeze out what seemed like more blood than she would even contain. A different nurse had me pump to see if my milk supply was in, it was. My pumped milk was put in a fridge never to be seen again, and I wasn't too happy about my wasted liquid gold. Mike and I decided to stay one more night as we were both nervous to go home and be on our own with Billie. We regretted the decision pretty quickly. Trying to sleep on the uncomfortable hospital bed and continuously having staff entering your room all night again made for two very exhausted parents. The next day, I had our car seat checked to make sure Billie was strapped in properly, packed our bags and was ready to head home. Mike was already back to work writing an important exam, so my brother brought Billie and I home. The most nerve wracking drive I can remember, he drove extremely cautious. Wow, then we finally walked through our front door, I was so happy to be in the comfort of our own home and thrilled to have Billie meet her fur babies, settle in and become familiar with her surroundings.
Coming home with your fresh little baby makes you feel very anxious, but also full of excitement. Becoming a mother, a parent, has the most confusing, conflicting, intense emotions I have ever felt. Happy but sad, nervous but excited, proud but anxious, it’s so many things all at once. I’m sure you can figure out there were details I would have done and handled differently, but I am grateful to have had a second and third chance, to modify particular things for each following birth. The euphoria I experienced with natural childbirth is unforgettable. It allowed my own hormones and body to harmonize and flow, and allowed my heart to explode with love and pride when labour was complete. We were very fortunate to have had the birth experience we did with Billie because of health, education, support and love. Through this experience, I realized there are some things you just won’t know, or can ever be prepared for until you have gone through it, the epitome of motherhood. Trusting in my own body and intuition was a very empowering journey, all leading me to meet my first baby girl. Thank you to myself for trusting my body, mind and heart. Thank you to my forever and always supportive, loving husband and mother. Thank you to my Billie for making me a mama.
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