Slept very poorly, so I slept in until noon. I was awakened by a wetness between my legs. I thought “Crap, I peed on myself again!” When I stood up to go to the bathroom, it became obvious it was amniotic fluid. A gush came out with each step, and I called to my husband, Trent, whose office is in the next room. I called the midwife’s apprentice (a local call- the midwife’s number is long distance), and was informed by her that they were on their way to another birth, but not to be worried because the other mom was really quick and they’d be in touch. She said to page when the contractions got to 5-7 minutes apart or if anything else changed.

We decided to go to the grocery store, because we had no food to offer the midwives or to sustain us through the upcoming ordeal, so we got dressed and headed out in the rain to Kroger. Contractions started while shopping, and Trent ran to bring the car around when we finished while I breathed through a strong one just inside the front door. A woman walked in at that moment and with a panicked look on her face said “You aren’t having BABY pains, are you?” I laughed and told her I was having a contraction, but it didn’t hurt, and my husband was getting the car. She looked at me like I was insane!

When we returned home, the contractions were getting pretty intense so we paged the midwives again. They said the other lady had her baby and they were going to finish up her postpartum stuff and head over. I got into the shower (the only place I could get comfortable by this point) and vocalized through each contraction.

Time passed oh so slowly. There was no pain, I just couldn’t get comfortable to rest at all between the rushes. I paced continuously. At 7 p.m. the midwives came and I requested a VE, so I could get my bearings. I was only dilated to 4 cm. I was so disappointed! By this point I had begun to vomit and couldn’t keep anything down, not even water. We checked my temperature, which was slightly elevated, and decided to keep a close watch on it. Still, the contractions didn’t hurt, I just couldn’t sit or lay down at all. Mary, the apprentice midwife, left for home around 8 p.m., saying she would return when things progressed further. Linda, the head midwife, lay down on the couch to sleep for a while. I managed to lay down briefly and listen to a hypnobirthing tape, but shortly after it ended I was back in the shower.

Tuesday, June 6, 2000
2 a.m.

My temperature was still elevated, and by this point the baby’s heart was showing some signs of stress, spiking up into the 170’s. I was unable to hold down anything in my stomach, and when we did one more VE, I had only progressed to 4 ½ or 5 cm. We did a lot of soul searching at this point, finally determining that the baby’s heart rate, coupled with my fever (which had risen to over 101.5 by this point), was telling us that it was no longer safe for us to be at home. I was disappointed, but we all knew it was the right thing to do.

3 a.m.

Arrived at the hospital and was admitted. They started an IV with fluids, hooked me to the monitors for a baseline and I asked for some Stadol to help me rest. It was a choice I hadn’t expected to make, but we determined that if I didn’t rest I’d never be able to push when the time came. The Stadol didn’t help at all, just made me feel doped up, but still just as uncomfortable. When Dr. Rogers arrived, he ordered an antibiotic and we discussed an epidural, finally deciding in favor. So much for my unmedicated childbirth experience! Dr. Rogers was very grim and started talking cesarean right away, which upset us greatly. I explained that we would cross that bridge if and when we came to it, but that it wasn’t in my opinion something we needed to discuss then.

5:30 a.m.

The anesthesiologist arrived, laughing and cracking jokes, putting us greatly at ease. The epidural was virtually painless going in and I had relief almost immediately. When I was resting comfortably, Linda left, having been up for almost 24 hours by that point. She told us to call her or Mary later in the day, when things got closer.

9 a.m.

Dr Rogers checked on us again, my dilation was now at 6 cm. At this point he informed us that the rate of infection goes up “exponentially” 24 hours after rupture of membranes and he felt we should look at doing a cesarean at noon. I told him that the baby’s heart had been at a perfect rate since our transfer and I didn’t feel that was necessary. I asked for one more hour to try nipple stimulation and other natural methods to stimulate labor, then we could start Pitocin. He agreed, and left. I called Linda and said if he tried his scare tactics again I was checking myself out AMA and going somewhere else! A theoretical risk was not enough to justify major surgery!

10 a.m.

Started Pitocin. Contractions got stronger and more intense right away, and required breathing and some vocalizing to stay on top of them. Dr Rogers came in and said he’d spoken with Dr Clark, the one who would perform a cesarean if necessary, and Dr Clark agreed with me. I explained that the information I’d seen was that the 24 hour rise in infection was 24 hours after the first VE, not the rupture itself. That gave us until 7 p.m.! From that point on, he never mentioned cesarean again.

3 p.m.

Requested that the epidural be increased, as I was feeling contractions very intensely on my left side, and I was unable to rest. I was getting very tired by this point, and I knew it was going to be a long one. Mary, the apprentice midwife, had joined us and was very encouraging, and Lesli, our childbirth educator and birth photographer, was coming and going. Slept for a while.

5 p.m.

The monitor was not showing a single contraction for over an hour and a half, but it had not been giving accurate readings all day. I requested a VE, which showed I was at 8 ½ or 9 cm! I immediately asked that the epidural be turned off so I could regain control of my legs for pushing, which they did quickly. I was so excited, knowing it was finally happening!

6:12 p.m.

Began feeling some mild pushing urges. Trent just happened to look at the clock, so we know the exact time of the first push. I had almost total feeling in my legs, so I got into a squat on the bed. Later, I would also try a hands and knees position, sitting on the edge of the bed, and finally, McRobert’s Maneuver. The pushing was surreal. I could see the clock and kept thinking “Maybe the baby will be born by 7:00” then later “Maybe by 8:00” “Surely by 9:00” then just giving everything I had. Dr Rogers came in at one point to check on me, asking if I was tired. I responded as perkily as possible that I was fine! I knew I could do it! Mary pushed back on one leg, Lesli had the other, and Trent pushed up my head with each push. We could see the baby’s head playing peek-a boo with each push, but not quite there. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Dr Rogers came in and began setting up his equipment. He filled a syringe to perform an episiotomy and Mary casually asked me “Does Dr Rogers know you don’t want an episiotomy?” to remind him of my wishes. He put it down and started pouring Betadine solution over my perineal region. He began to do massage to help me stretch around the head as it crowned. After all the labor, this was the only part I can say was painful, feeling the head pass through my vaginal opening. I was amazed that the pain radiated up into my urethra, not down towards my rectum.

9:50 p.m.

Sullivan Jerome was born into this world, accompanied by a gush of meconium-stained amniotic fluid, and was immediately placed on my abdomen while all the necessary suctioning and other work was carried out. He started slowly, but responded quickly to the treatment given. When the cord stopped pulsing, Trent cut it and the placenta was delivered shortly afterwards. Cleanup was done on mom and baby, and we found that there were no tears to repair! Sullivan had to be taken to the nursery to be weighed, so Trent accompanied him. When he returned we found he was 7 pounds 5 ounces and 19 ½ inches long. He took to the breast right away upon returning.

This was not my vision of the perfect birth, but all of the decisions were made for the right reasons, making it the perfect birth after all. I am just as committed to homebirth, and I firmly believe it’s the safest choice for a low-risk situation, but I’m very thankful for the support I got in making the decision to transfer, and to the hospital staff for letting us pretty much have our own way. I’m especially grateful to my labor team of Linda, Mary, and Lesli, and to my wonderful husband, Trent, for uncommon valor in the face of overwhelming adversity.

Today, mother and son are doing well, with only a few minor bumps on the road as far as latching onto the breast, but they are being resolved, and we’re learning how to be a family of three.