IT BEGINS
On Tuesday night around 11:30, I started having contractions. Since I'd had contractions like this before, and had them peter out into nothing, we decided to walk them into something more productive. After two hours of walking up and down the block, we thought it'd be best to go home, get some sleep and see what would develop. By 3:00 I was awake. The contractions were becoming more regular. (About time!) The barometer for calling our midwife, Diane, was 4-1-1: contractions four minutes apart, lasting for a minute each and continuing for an hour. By 4:00 am, we made the call.
Diane lives in Pasadena and I think it's some kind of impressive that she was wakened from a sound sleep, figured out that this was the real deal, explained where she was going, etc. to her husband, got dressed, got her gear together, and still made it here in less time than it takes to get a pizza delivered. She's effing amazing.
After setting up (don't ever make the mistake of thinking midwives don't have their bases covered - Diane had about 6 duffel bags of gear and medical equipment), she left us to continue laboring. The plan was to have Diane's backup midwife come check us around lunchtime.
By the time lunch rolled around, I was in full swing. It seemed a lot of progress had been made. Notice I said seemed. Remember that for later. Not only was I in active labor, but it looked like I was on my way to the next stage of labor. This was heralded by a quick run to the bathroom to barf. Yum. (Side note - I never puke, so this was especially fun.) Diane had returned by this time, so she did an exam and then the fun really began.
Remember that part where I said "seemed?" Yeah. About that.
CHANGE OF PLANS
So, I was in the next-to-last stage of labor, my contractions were enough to make me want to die, I'd been in labor for about 15 hours at this point, but I was only 4-5cm dilated. Mother puss bucket. Diane did a non-stress test on the baby and it looked like things were not going well for him either. Though she didn't say it at the time, she suspected that the cord was either around Bean's neck or being pinched. Coupled with the fact that I was thoroughly exhausted, she suggested we change plans.
We talked about our options and it boiled down to this: continue at home for the next hour or two and see where we stood, or go to the hospital. If we went the first route, it didn't look like anything would really change in those next few hours, save for the fact that I'd have approximately 40 more 'holy fuck' contractions. Diane was also fairly certain I had at least 12 more hours of labor to go. The second route offered the prospect of pitocin to move things along and - this part's important - an epidural. Nat flipped at the word hospital, picturing a slippery slope of epidural and pitocin leading to a C-section... or worse. Diane explained that both would be given in very low doses, that this was the kind of labor where intervention is a good thing, and that I'd still be able to feel everything I wanted to by the time Bean was born.
I should point out some things here. A) I have a pretty high pain threshold, B) I was prepared that labor was going to hurt, but C) my contractions were unbearable - really, really unbearable, and D) things didn't really look like they were going to change. So guess which route we took?
THE ACTUAL DELIVERY
By 4:30 or so, we were at Cedars Sinai. Diane had already spoken with our OB/GYN and the hospital, so they were ready for us. We did some admissions paperwork and - glory of glories - I was given an epidural. Those. Suckers. ROCK. That, along with the pitocin, and we were really off to the races this time. Dilation continued at a decent clip and I was set up to begin pushing around 10:30. (For those of you playing along at home, this means I was just getting ready to push in my 23rd hour of labor.)
Pushing was underway and the doctor and Diane were monitoring my progress. Unfortunately, they weren't happy. By the look on the doctor's face, I could tell he was thinking C-section. This much work would typically have produced a baby by now. Thankfully, that's not how he rolls. Dr. Kline prides himself on a high rate of vaginal births, and he was determined to make this no different (we weren't surprised to find out later that he was trained by midwives).
We changed the bed setup and my pushing position, and tried some more. Success! Bean moved along rapidly and with one final push that was the whole kit and kaboodle, he was delivered into his Mommy's waiting hands. Nat put Bean on my chest and it was a minute or two of rubbing him and warming him up before we looked to even see if Bean was a boy or girl. The remainder of the morning was spent doing all of the regular postnatal stuff and then we came home.
EPILOGUE
It wasn't until a few days later that I heard the whole story from Diane. Those contractions I had weeks earlier actually were the start of labor. However, we had a few things not working in our favor that kept stopping labor. By "not working in our favor" I mean "potentially life-threatening." As it turns out, Bean was doing a good job of being head down and ready to go. Unfortunately, he did have the cord around his neck and his head was tipped to the side. Neither of which facilitate an easy entry into this world. In fact, the majority of such instances end up with a stillborn child, since that positioning makes it impossible for birth to happen spontaneously. As Diane put it, home birth is not the holy grail; you have to know when to call it.
In our case, we were extraordinarily lucky. Lucky to have chosen the most amazing midwife who would cop onto the issue and push for a hospital birth. Lucky enough to have a great hospital with wonderful staff so near and on the ball. Lucky enough to have a doctor who wouldn't give up and just go with an all-too-standard C-section. But most of all, lucky enough to be able to welcome this glorious little baby into our lives.
Labels: Bean
