My Second Birth Story

This blog post picks up where a previous blog post left off. If you did not read the preceding blog and need more context to fully understand my birth story, you can check out My Second Pregnancy Experience!

I tapped my husband to let him know that I was having contractions, to which he said, “Are you sure?” …I was sure. He said, “I thought you said—” “I know what I said, I’m in early labor. Go back to sleep.” He went back to sleep while I laid back down and tried to rest. At some point in the darkness of morning, I could no longer lay down so I began to pick out my breakfast. At this point Kyle was half in and half out. I asked him if he thought it would be a bad idea to drive while in labor. He did think that it would be unwise. Therefore, while I do believe I could have successfully driven at that stage of labor, I did not try. Instead I got out of bed, into the shower, and I started to get ready for the beauty of the day ahead. When Kyle woke up he called the family that needed to know what was going on, while I called the hospital to let them know that we would be coming in at some point that day. I was surprised to get a call from my doctor soon after that. I apologized profusely, explaining that I was in very early labor and that I didn’t mean for anyone to be woken up. My doctor was lovely and assured me that it was no problem at all. We decided that I would come in for a check during normal office hours after seven o’clock. I continued to get ready before picking up breakfast and heading that way.

We moseyed on into the doctor’s office a little past seven in the morning. I was checked once, gently and respectfully with very little discomfort. (For context read My First Birth Story.) I was informed that I was measuring at somewhere between three and a half centimeters and four centimeters. My doctor offered to admit me or let me leave to labor a little longer outside of the hospital and return later. I do not find the hospital to be a comforting or comfortable place. I preferred an option that gave me more freedom. We chose not to return home, but rather than sit in a bed being monitored endlessly, we went shopping! Between contractions, we bought a couple of throw pillows. We looked at baby clothes. We picked out a new rug. I picked up a decaf coffee. Any time a contraction hit, no matter where we happened to be, I would stop and sway along to it until it tapered out. One contraction hit me as I was exiting a bathroom. I stopped near the door to do my thing as a very kind lady entered, opening the door that I was only a couple feet from fully blocking. I apologized for being in her way as I moved just enough to let her pass. She asked if I was ok, to which I casually answered, “Yeah, I’m just having a contraction.” She looked at me stunned and said, “Oh my goodness! Do we need to call someone? Do you need to get to the hospital?” The family member who had accompanied me into the restroom let her know that my doctor was already aware and that we would head back that way as soon as I gave the word. While this lovely stranger was definitely a little thrown off, she gave me a smile and said, “Oh, you’ve done this before, huh?” I laughed and told her that we did have one already. She congratulated me, wished me luck, and we went our separate ways.

After an hour or so more of perusing, I decided that I would not mind heading back to the hospital. We called the office to let them know that we were returning for another check. My doctor was astonished to find that I was now at six and a half centimeters and admitted me. I was still feeling pretty good so I did not request an epidural upon receiving a room. Knowing that I would be hooked up to an IV immediately, the labor pains took a backseat as the needle became the concern at the forefront of my mind. I explained my struggles with needles to the nurse in the room. I requested that if there was someone who is known to get it done in one try, it would be better to just start with that person. She assured me that she was “a good stick” …and then stuck me three times, failing and blowing out my veins with each attempt. My stress level could not be measured throughout this process. It became more and more difficult to sit still as I awaited the feeling of a needle searching for somewhere to land within my arm again and again. My face deadpanned and my eyes glazed over as I stared intensely at the wall, trying to remember how to breathe normally. The nurse looked around the room timidly as I retreated deeper and deeper into myself. She told the people whose heads were not swimming in a fish bowl that she would be getting the best nurse on the floor to try it next. When she left the room, my husband and second support person watched me intently, not fully sure what to do with this appearance of a person-less vessel. My contractions had even stopped in the midst of this, as if my body had just shut down. I now understand there is a theory that when the body feels unsafe (as if it is needing to run away from or fight off a predator) it will stop labor temporarily for its own protection. I can point to instances where I believe this absolutely happened during both of my labor experiences.

The nurse did return with someone who was able to do the job on her first try. She got it done even with me reflexively jerking my arm away. It was very impressive! The original nurse (who continued to stay with me that day) apologized for the IV fiasco on multiple occasions and I did appreciate that. At the same time, I also wish she had just taken a “better safe than sorry” approach in the first place, as I had requested. My arm also became disgustingly bruised after that and even caused a pediatrician to ask me if I was in an unsafe living situation a few days later. Once I was finally hooked up, I began to walk around the room trying to continue laboring in a state of easy motion as I had been before. Little did I know, I had been hooked up to Pitocin. (Pitocin is most commonly known to be what doctors use in inductions, but apparently it is standardly used in some hospitals or by some doctors to speed up labor that has been naturally entered into as well.) The contractions soon became more than I wanted to deal with. I did not understand how, yet again, I was going from handling contractions well in one environment to feeling overwhelmed by the intensity in another. At six and a half centimeters dilated I requested the epidural, but waited another hour before the anesthesiologist was able to see me.

Once the epidural was administered, the nurses proceeded to do the standard things you do after someone receives an epidural. Being that this time I had actually slept in the past twenty four hours, I was a bit more aware of what all was being done to me and a little more freaked out by all of it. Every time someone went to touch me, I had a question. It was amazing how much my brain had not registered or remembered from my first labor and delivery. Something I did remember though, was “the shakes” the epidural gave me. Those did make a comeback but I was not trying to nap through them this time. Because of this, they were less bothersome than they had been before. If you read My First Birth Story, you know there was an intense shift in the room as I began to push with my first one. This time there was none of that. A billion people did not start to pour into my room. The noise level did not escalate. The lighting didn’t even change. The doctor just waltzed in, looked over some things, and said, “Ok, looks like we’re ready to push!” …So, we pushed.

Because I had told my doctor that I had been astounded, but also incredibly blessed to deliver my own baby the first time, she knew that it was something I wanted to do again. However, half the baby was out after one push which was staggering to me considering my previous experience. I leaned up with my hands on the back of the hospital bed, pushing myself forward with my arms and could not believe my eyes. As I dropped my hands to retrieve my baby, I felt an indication that the epidural had not been calibrated to my small stature for a second time. No sooner had I seen my sweet baby’s face I had begun to fall back, uttering the words “That’s weird.” as I was unable to hold myself up. I was instructed to give a second push and just like that, a baby was thrust upon my chest. It all happened so fast yet so calmly. It was a stark contrast from the time before it, almost confusingly and disorientingly so. I almost wasn’t sure it had really happened at all. My brain took a second to catch up to the reality of this human being sitting within the comfort of my arms. It was surreal to me yet just as profound as the first experience. It was just coated in such a different feeling. I had done it again. I had brought life into this world, almost before I had even realized I was doing it.