9:15 the midwife arrives. She begins to setup the birth tub. At 9:45 she gives me a quick check. I am 5 centimeters. Contractions are getting harder and harder to handle. Dangling around Craig's neck feels very good. Sitting down doesn't seem to work at all, although laying down through contractions is sometimes okay. The contractions hurt in my back mostly, just like my first labor.
The tub is setup by 10:30 and they tell me I can get in, but I'm afraid to. Dangling around Craig's neck feels so good...that will be hard to do in the tub. I think I get in around 11:00 or 11:30. It's blurry though.
Pain is instantly reduced by 1/2 when I get in the tub. An amazing difference. The contractions don't get any shorter, but the part I have to breathe and groan through does! It seems I spend an indeterminate amount of time in the tub, dealing with contractions, chatting with the midwife and her assistant between them. I am still human between contractions, still drinking water, and eating lightly to keep up my energy.
Around 12:30, I consent to another exam... I am 7 centimeters. Contractions begin getting more intense. No chatting between them, because there is no between. Instead of groaning through contractions I begin screaming through them. Instead of grabbing and holding onto DH while he strokes me and splashes my back, I begin flailing through contractions. At some point the midwife begins to assist Craig in helping me. I remember at the start of this phase the midwife's assistant saying "those sound stronger". I can't remember if I even replied back to her, but my internal response to her was some X-rated language! But it was very reassuring to hear the midwife say "you're doing good Paula" even as I scream. I needed to hear that very badly, since pain normally tells you something is wrong, when to a midwife it is saying labor is proceeding normally. Craig reassured me as well.
Having gone through my first labor on pitocin in a hospital and not receiving an epidural until 8 centimeters, I thought I was somewhat prepared for knowing what the pain of natural labor was like. I wasn't. I have to say, 7-10 centimeters was a whole order of magnitude more difficult and painful than I ever imagined. I couldn't relax through them at all, they never stopped...although I usually had a period of time where I could catch my breath between screaming. Sometimes I cried at this point when I had the energy. During our childbirth preparation I never really imagined I would spend hours of my labor screaming... I had pictured those calm/groaning/grunting home waterbirth mothers they showed on The Learning Channel's Baby Story shows... not what I was going through. It just didn't seem fair. Why does childbirth have to hurt? Why does it hurt less for some women?
3:15 The midwife talks me into breaking my waters. I had wanted to avoid this...hoped it would break on its own. I really didn't want things to "speed" up or feel any more out of control. By this point it felt like labor would never finish on its own. I was 9 centimeters when she broke the water. It was incredibly painful. Getting out of the waters triggered a powerful contraction. My waters were clear and the baby was doing well. I got back into the water as quickly as possible.
The midwife told me I could start pushing into my contractions if I wanted to. I had 2 contractions where I gave it a shot... it felt awkward at first. Then by the third contraction, it felt like I couldn't do anything else BUT push. From that point on I never noticed a break in between contractions, and I was still screaming, but having trouble getting any deep breaths. I flailed around a lot as I began pushing, until the midwife was holding the baby's head and checking the baby.
They checked her heartbeat frequently, it was good. As the head started to deliver, the midwife tried to calm me down, she had me touch my baby's head. I recall yelling "get it out, get it out", after feeling her head. I couldn't stop pushing, even when they wanted me to slow down. The "urge to push" is just a laughable term to me. There was no urge to push. There was an overriding, undeniable, unstoppable force that I had to counteract by pushing. I could no more have stopped pushing than I could have been instructed to stop my heart from beating. It was out of my control, although I did my best to push harder, since the harder I pushed, the more the contractions didn't hurt. "Ring of fire" is another funny term. I didn't really feel a ring, I felt intense pain behind and above the baby's head, intense meaning I continued to scream. But that sensation was so short-lived.
As I deliver the baby's head into the water, the midwife checks her and makes a sudden decision to get me out of the water to deliver her body. The midwife and Craig lift me out onto the floor (thankfully tarp covered for the tub). She encourages me to push out the body...but the incredible force which delivered her head in 15 minutes is gone... I push like mad anyhow. She slides out in about 30 seconds. She is pretty limp and colorless. Her cord came down the birth canal alongside her head, which is why the midwife got me out.
Her assistant jumps into action stimulating the baby and grabbing the oxygen. They try to tube her, but she is too aware and active for that, turning her head side to side. She starts to breathe within a minute. I knew all along she was okay. I felt it... I felt her life force, so strong and healthy despite that last minute oxygen deprivation. She pinks up quickly and begins crying... in fact she cries for at least a half hour. I don't really know how much she was deprived during that quick pushing stage. You could see from the cord that parts of it were gray already when she was born, but it must not have been much...all her heartbeat checks during delivery were good, she didn't take long at all to pink up. Everyone was much more excited by this than I was...Craig asked me if I even understood what had happened since I was so calm. But I could feel how okay she was. Sometimes a mother just knows.
Seconds after she was born I sit up and look at her and check between her legs. And double check. And triple check. It is a girl! The little girl I had been picturing all along, with dark brown hair, and eyes that look like they will turn green or brown. Craig is crying... his daughter has been born.
They assist me to the bed and give me my baby. She is wonderful. She is crying. Just holding my crying baby is such a delicious feeling! I deliver the placenta, and the midwife and her assistant ooh and ahhh over the cord... 34 inches long. Apparently very unusual. Ian had a knot in his cord, which occurs in 1/2000 births, and she arrived with a prolapsed cord, which occurs in 1/300 births. Now I wonder if I am permanently prone to these things? Both my babies were born healthy, which is the important thing.
The postpartum experience is *so* different than my hospital experience. I delivered at a hospital that supposedly had rooming in. But I only got to hold Ian for 10 minutes out of his first 6 hours, and of is first 24 hours of life, he spent 12 in the nursery. Rooming in, right!
Hazel is with me every instant. Even when they are stimulating her to breathe she is right there between my legs, being worked on while her cord is still attached. I am talking to her the whole time, saying hello Hazel, welcome to the world. There is no instant battery of tests run on her (besides the visual assesment). When to weigh her is left up to me. The midwives aren't working by the clock. Hazel finally nurses about an hour after she has been born. She latches on well and works on it for at least 10 minutes.
My family looks on as the midwives examine her on my bed. 9 pounds 14 ounces. Wow! I can't belive I birthed such a large baby, especially when I even looked smaller than when I carried Ian (7 pounds 12 ounces). Her head is 14 inches, Ian was 14 1/2. Hazel's head didn't even mold coming through... which is good since her cord was coming along too! I didn't even tear until her body delivered, which is good and fat.
She seem large to people familiar with newborns, but 10 pounds seems like nothing when you are used to toting a 30 pound (just turned) 3 year old around! However, I have to admit she does have just *tons* of cute baby fat rolls! "Newborn" size diapers don't fit... her thighs are just too large.
I have to say natural labor was much more difficult than I anticipated. It's 6 days later as I write this, and my voice has come back (it was pretty hoarse from the hours of screaming), but my back is still sore from tensing and writhing through transition. I am not ready to do this again any time soon, but I feel so blessed to have had such a wonderful experience. My husband at my side, my son able to view his sister being born, my daughter able to be with me every minute. My midwife there to so competently handle a potentially dangerous complication.
Hazel is really adjusting well to the transition. Her first 36 hours, she could never sleep more than 10 minutes at a time...but now she seems more relaxed, is able to nurse pretty well. Engorgement is beginning to pass. My back is still weak, but Hazel is quite content when I put her in the sling. It's such a different experience from Ian, who refused to cradle-hold nurse till he was 9 months and could only be slung in the snuggle hold (even at birth). Hazel is more easy-going. She cries, but it rarely sounds like she is in pain. Her eyes focus really well now and she is trying to turn her head. She is happy to watch the world around her, and we are happy to watch her!
I'd like to thank everyone for the warm wishes and congratulations! The support from my online friends has been wonderful! We truly feel blessed at the love we are receiving.
