Last Friday, I had an ultrasound and was informed that my baby was in the 94th percentile for size. I was glad the baby was healthy, but I was extremely terrified of giving birth to a large baby and had visions of wearing diapers forever more on account of my pelvic floor being destroyed.
I became anxious (to say the least) to give birth as soon as possible. When my doctor refused to assist in my scheming, I knew I’d have to take matters into my own hands and spent some time researching natural labor induction with the help of the world wide webs.
Tuesday I ate pineapple and mango.
Wednesday I went jogging with Squiggles. I knew I wasn’t exactly as nimble as a cheetah, but I felt good going at what I thought was a nice clip, with the wind in my hair. Squiggles kept saying, “Mommy jogging so fast.” Then I passed a group of 5- or 6-year-old boys pointing at me and overheard one of them say, “I think it’s a zombie.” Deflated.
Thursday I asked Tim to take me to Indian Delight. We ordered our favorites, but instead of medium, I ordered them extra hot. The waiter laughed and said, “I don’t think so.” I said, “I’m serious… I need to go into labor,” so he agreed to honor my request.
That night, I barely slept. The spicy food definitely was having some sort of effect, though it was hard to pinpoint what it was (other than indigestion). The baby was in a strange position, and I was agonizingly uncomfortable so I sat in a recliner most of the night and worked on my ASV poster.
Friday I stumbled into work and had minor contractions all day. I told my friend Claire Marie I thought I might be in labor, but we just laughed it off and decided it was a probably a false alarm. I drank a mango smoothie on the way home, just for good measure.
Last evening (still Friday) around 10:00 I got into bed fully expecting to spend another uncomfortable night not sleeping. Tim and I were trying to think of something fun to do with Squiggles the next day. I lay down to try to sleep, and suddenly I felt something kind of pop in my abdomen. But nothing came out.
Me: My water just broke.
Tim (after assessing situation): There isn’t any water near you.
Me: I know, but my water just broke.
Tim: Ummm… there’s no water.
Me: I can’t explain it, but …
And then there was a little water. At which point, I got out of bed and felt a full-blown Hollywood-worthy gush. We hadn’t actually packed a hospital bag, so Tim scrambled around for toiletries and clothes while I had a lovely experience with some diarrhea. I became terrified of giving birth and decided that what really sounded good was a nice, warm, shower, so I got in and leisurely washed my hair. Tim came in the bathroom and said, “Ummm… did you remember that you’re in labor?”
I gave Squiggles a kiss goodbye (I may or may not have been crying and convinced that I would die in childbirth) and we sped off to the hospital. By the time we got there, I was having some fairly severe contractions… back labor… but I tried to have a good attitude. Tim took this photo (titled I don’t want all these nice people to think I’m a total wimp).
I met the labor and delivery nurse (Meesha) and Doctor Bhindya, and they confirmed that I was indeed in labor. They asked me what my plans were as far as pain management, and I said, “I would like me one of those newfangled epidurals.” They laughed and said, “Smart girl.” (I’m pretty sure that if I had said, “I’m going totally natural,” they would have said the same thing and been just as supportive.)
I had to wait for said pain relief while they took care of my penicillin IV (I’m group-B-Strep positive) and some paperwork. In the meantime, my contractions were getting extremely painful and I took this photo of myself (titled Where the hell is that epidural?):
Just when my contractions were becoming unbearable, the blessed anesthesiologist arrived to save the day. I felt a ton of relief almost immediately and told the nurse I intended to sleep through the night and asked her to wake me up when it was time to have a baby.
My epidural definitely worked better on my left side than my right, so at about 5:30 in the morning, I rang the nurse and asked for some more epidural. She asked me to explain my complaint and I told her it just wasn’t working on my right side because I could still feel the contractions in the right side of my back and bum. She correctly guessed that what I was really feeling was the baby’s head pressing on my pelvic floor. When she checked me, I was pretty much fully dilated, but given the large size of the fetus, she wanted me to wait as long as I could to allow the baby’s head to come down as far as possible in order to minimize the pushing I would have to do. She said there would be a lot less tearing that way, but that I could start pushing as soon as I felt ready and it was a matter of how much pressure I could manage.
I tried to go back to sleep, but I could feel a ton of “pressure” (read: pain) in my pelvis with every contraction. Finally I buzzed her and said, “I think I’m ready to push.” We woke up Tim and they helped me do a couple warm-up pushes before the doctor arrived. I started the warm-ups at 6:43. When Doctor Bhindya came back, she assessed the situation and said, “Good job – this baby is pretty much going to slide out.” That was music to my ears because there had been much made of the fact that my baby had a very large head and was large for her gestational age. I was so terrified of ripping my lady parts to shreds.
They helped me push and were so, extremely supportive and encouraging. At 7:01, the doctor said, “Eh, give me one more little push even though you’re not having a contraction.” I did as she said, and WHOOSH – out came the baby! They slapped her on my chest (as I had requested), and I felt an incredible endorphin euphoria – maybe the kind that my natural-childbirth friends experience. Somehow I got the best of both worlds. Best of all was the gorgeous baby screaming in my arms.
Tim and I looked each other in the eye, and I could tell we had experienced the same thing: love at first sight. She was perfect!
I can’t emphasize enough how much I loved my nurse and doctor. They were like midwives – so caring and nurturing and supportive and encouraging, and my childbirth experience was so fantastic because of them.
Tim was also a rock star. He was loving and compassionate and didn’t leave my side for a second, even though he is on a demanding medical sub-internship and has barely slept the past two weeks. As soon as the baby was born, it was clear that he was smitten. He couldn’t stop smiling.
So was I!
So was Nana!
And Squiggles loves her squeaky new toy!
We are so happy and thankful and blessed.