One year ago today, Emma, my precious fourth child, was born at 12:05 am, March 22, 2011.
Like my pregnancy with Charlotte, this was a very difficult and painful one. The past 2 pregnancies I have suffered from SPD- which is a condition where my pelvic bones over separate, very early on in the pregnancy and the condition worsens as the weeks progress. I really can’t describe the pain to you beyond saying that when you have this condition, you feel like your pelvis is broken. Every movement is painful. Every single one. So much so that in my case, the pain of labor is about a 4 the pain scale where the pelvic pain is an 11. I also suffered from terrible contractions brought on by the pain. The last 2 months of my pregnancy were full of almost constant contractions- not enough to cause dilation, but enough to make things difficult for me. The hope and expectation of holding my child at the end of this journey was what kept me going. I liked to say that when else in life could suffering for 9 months end with such an incredible gift, a baby. I am very grateful for the loving support of my husband who was my legs for much of the pregnancy, my mother who visited me weekly to help with small tasks, and the women of my parish who brought me meals towards the end of my pregnancy when I could no longer stand for longer than a few moments and couldn’t cook anymore. I survived because of all the support and prayers I received.
Charlotte came a week late and I hoped and prayed that Emma would come early, but in reality, I expected that she would b e late as well. I was very surprised when I realized I was in labor, almost 5 days earlier than her due date. I woke up at 2 am in the morning with some contractions and the feeling that maybe I had wet myself while I was sleeping. I remember thinking, what else is going on? I wasn’t sure if my water had broken so I went back to sleep. Would you believe with this being my 4th child, I wasn’t sure until about 7 am if this was the real thing? That’s how non-dramatic my water breaking was. I had contraction every 10-15 minutes or so. I called my midwife at 10 am and told her what was going on and she suggested we come in to the office to check things out. By the time we got to her office, it was almost noon. We stopped off at CVS on the way to pick up various sundries that I thought we might need in case I was admitted.
Everything looked good when Barbara, my nurse midwife, checked me out. The baby’s heartrate was good, my blood pressure was a bit elevated but not high, and my water was definitely broken. Since we hadn’t had lunch, our plan was to walk around the town near the hospital and have lunch and check in some time around 2 pm. But first my midwife wanted to get a rhythm strip on the monitor before we went on our way. Within 10 minutes of being on the strip, I had a contraction and the baby’s heartrate went down and didn’t return to normal for too long. Because I wasn’t having that many contractions, there wasn’t anything to compare it too. We all were uncomfortable with that so the midwife and I decided it was best to head on up to the maternity ward.
Everyone understood what was going on except my dear husband who kept asking me as we were walking over, “Why are we doing this? I thought you said you didn’t want to go into the hospital until you were dilated? Why are you giving in to them?”. Needless to say, this added to my stress level at this point. He just didn’t understand how bad that particular contraction was and how the baby had reacted to it.
When the admitting nurse checked me in, she took my blood pressure again and it was quite high. In fact, every time they would take my pressure, my hands would throb in pain and I found myself doing controlled labor breathing to get through a mere blood pressure check. “This isn’t going well” was what I said, and I proceeded to say that pretty much the entire length of the labor.( In addition to all of this going on, my sister had told me that my 3 children were at her house. My father was away on a business trip and my mother didn’t want to be alone at her house so she brought the kids over to my sister’s house. My sister had 3 children and was 6 months pregnant with my nephew at the time. Apparently it was quite crazy over there with all the kids together and the vision in my mind of the chaos didn’t have a positive effect on my stress level, or my blood pressure. I was so worried about what was happening here in the room to me and the baby AND to my family back at my sister’s house.) I had also spent a bit of time downloading music onto my Ipod to listen to during labor but for some reason, it was erased and all I had was 2 hypnobabies tracks to listen to. I must have listened to them about 20 times or so to get through the rough moments.
The hours continued to waste away and I wasn’t progressing. It had been a long time since my water had broken and with contraction every 10-15 minutes and minimal dilation, my mantra of the day continued. “This isn’t going well”.
I am sure some people would wonder why I didn’t want to pitocin at this point. Honestly, I was very afraid of them needing to induce my labor. With the pelvic condition I had, it was important for me to be able to feel so I wouldn’t be in a position that caused more damage to my already fragile pelvis. And I knew that if I had pitocin, it would mean an epidural (heck, I’m not a martyr here) and I didn’t want an epidural. I had already had 2 drug-free labors and didn’t want this one to be any different.
At this point I was thoroughly convinced that my head wasn’t in the game and that my fears and stresses were working against me. My blood pressure remained elevated and that darn blood pressure cuff hurt so bad every time the nurses would check my pressure. Adding to the discomfort was the fact that I had a very unsympathetic nurse who stuck me multiple times because she insisted I needed a Heplock Iv, even though my midwife was fine with me not having one. She blew a few veins in my arms. Finally, she got one in but it was in my wrist and was so painful. Thankfully when the next nurse came in, she quickly removed it because she was afraid it was pressing on my nerve and would cause damage. I am not kidding when I say that the blood pressure cuff and the Heplock were more painful than actual labor was.
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| trying to be optimistic with my cranberry juice |
At this point it was about 8 pm in the evening. My water had been broken since 2 am and I was pretty sure this day was going to end with me on the operating room with a c-section. I was that afraid. The nurse was getting ready to hang the pitocin for when the midwife would inevitably order it for me. I had one final thing to try to help me relax. I asked if I could get into the whirlpool. My original plan was to do this when labor was really on its way as a sort of solution for the pain but instead I found myself asking to get in it so I could relax and feel some pain. I settled into the water, closed my eyes, pictured my grandmother who had died many many years ago and a friend’s child who had passed away only a couple weeks prior. I pictured them with me, guiding me and I began to pray the Rosary. Oh how grateful I was for those memorized rote prayers to say at such a troubling time. I had been praying on and off all day but I couldn’t focus. Somehow being in the whirlpool room which looked like any bathroom in a luxury hotel, except for the nurse call bell for emergencies, was what I needed to get out of myself and focus and relax. And relax I did. And the contractions started. And got more intense. And I was thrilled! Finally, finally I felt that I was in labor. Each wave of pain was so relaxing to me. Yes, you heard that right. Every contraction that hit was actually a source of relief because it meant that maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t need the pitocin or end up with my worst fear, a c-section. The nurse told me if they got too intense, to call for help and I could get out but there was nothing that would get me out of that tub. I stayed in there for 2 hours, willing the contractions and praying the Rosary as my husband slept next to me. !!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I wasn’t too happy about that at all. But I had my grandma and Gabriella Joy too.
I got out of the tub at around 10 or so and when the midwife checked me I was sure I must be at least 8 or so. 4 she said. 4!!!!!!!!! What was going on? This isn’t going well I said. I laid in the bed and felt defeated. My blood pressure was still high so I had to lay on my side. I laid there listening to my hypnobabies CDS. They were my other blessing during the labor. I started to have very very painful contractions, one after another. It was now 11:30. They were the sort that almost twist your body and staying on the bed during them felt like torture. All’s I could do was lay on my side and try to focus on relaxing through every contraction. The midwife checked me again and I was sure I must be 10. 6 she said. 6?? It was going to be a very long and painful night I thought because I knew I had to get to 10. I can’t believe I am only 6 I told her. I still had no desire for an epidural, none whatsoever but I wondered how I would get to 10 with these very very painful contractions coming. It was going to be a very long night I thought. Jaclyn, my midwife said, this baby could come in a half hour. I have seen it many times before. Eugene added, yes, I bet it will be around midnight. I laughed at them, almost bitterly because I knew it would be hours still. It must be since I was only 6 and still had 4 cm to go.
Than it was after 12 midnight, the next day. All of a sudden, I felt it. That terrible, uncontrollable, unstoppable urge to push. That freight-train like feeling that a drug-free delivery feels like. “Barbara, I have to push. I am pushing. Is it okay if I push?” Well, she said, can you give me a second to put my gloves on? I tried but it was no use and about 3 pushes later, Emma entered the world. What a relief!! I was so glad it was over and honestly was a bit in shock because in my head I was still hours away from giving birth and here was my precious baby lying in my arms. And I was so relieved that she was here.
I look back a year later and still consider this labor “my agony in the garden”. It was a journey that I had to go through.I am grateful that Emma was born the day after my labor began because March 22 holds the memory of holding her in my arms instead of the day before when I was so afraid and so worried. I feel that her birth date was a gift for me in that way.
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| Emma at 11 months |
