So I'm finally getting around to writing the rest of our birth story, which I started in May.
I checked in the hospital around 5, and things seemed to be happening pretty quickly. My contractions were about 3 minutes apart, and I was walking around some and using the birthing ball. Our hospital doula, a sweet old lady, arrived shortly after we checked in.
About that time, my contractions got significantly worse, and now the pain from the contractions was felt mostly in my lower back (more specifically, I think it was my love handles). Gus would push as hard as he could on my back when I would have a contraction, and if he let up at all, it felt like all of the muscles in that region were on fire. The doula tried to help by having me lean back against a long blanket/wrap type thing, but the pressure that provided was not anywhere close to enough. I needed a 200+ lb. man pressing with all the strength he had on my back.
Despite my desire not to have any electronic fetal monitoring, I had to be hooked up for 20 minutes of every hour because of hospital policy. This was pretty uncomfortable during my contractions, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be since the I really didn't feel like moving around because of the back labor.
The midwife, doula, and nurse all informed me that I would just "know" when I needed to push. This was also not the case. I sort of felt like I needed to push, but I really had no idea. So as the hours went on into the night, I became more and more nervous that I wasn't making any progress. I had checked in when I was 6 cm dilated, and I went several hours at 9 cm.
At 3 a.m., our midwife came in and informed us that the doctor on call was questioning what she was doing, or not doing, with me. My water had not broken yet, and the midwife thought that may have been impeding my progress. I did not want my water broken unnaturally because of all that I had read, so the midwife left the decision up to me. She was, however, leaving at 8 a.m., and a doctor was on-call the next morning. If I hadn't had the baby by then, they would most likely perform a C-section.
At this point, I was having contraction after contraction with what felt like 3 seconds in between. We agreed to let her break my water since I was so close to the pushing phase anyway. After that was done, she had me lay in the runner's position on the hospital bed so that the baby would turn. I had to wear the electronic fetal monitor permanently after my water was broken, and that felt like someone was stabbing me in my contracting stomach. I completely lost all ability to relax as I had so practiced before my labor. Every contraction I was holding onto the bars as tights as I could, and during one especially painful moment, I bit Gus' face. I just knew that this wouldn't work; I would have to have a C-section, and all of this would be for naught.
In part 1 of my story, I mentioned those high school leg cramps I had and that I couldn't have imagined how anything could be more painful. Let's just say, those leg cramps could not compare in the slightest with the pain I felt during this time.
I still had no idea what it meant to feel like pushing. But I was so desperate for the first stage of labor to end that I told them I felt like pushing. She checked me, and I was 10 cm. dilated and ready to push.
A few hours earlier, the doula told us that the midwife would probably want me on my back for the pushing. We had read a lot about different pushing positions beforehand, so flat on my back really was the last thing I wanted to do. We talked to the midwife about it, and she was fine with my squatting or doing whatever position I wanted. I had planned on trying the standing squat, or if I was too tired, the sitting squat. But kind of on a whim, I told them I wanted to use a squatting bar.
So when I was ready, they hooked the squatted bar onto the bed, and somehow, after 26 hours with no sleep, no food, and in serious pain, I was able to hang onto that squatting bar for dear life and push as hard as I possibly could during my contractions. The pain during the pushing stage was very tolerable, and it felt so good to be able to do something during my contractions. This stage lasted only 30 minutes. The relief I felt when it was over was overwhelming, and my first thought was "it's a boy!" (we didn't find out).
They laid him on my chest immediately; he was crying, and I was just looking at him. He stopped crying after a few minutes, and I tried to nurse him. He was eventually weighed and cleaned up in our room. He nursed again before we were taken to our postpartum room to meet my family and friend Andrea, who had waited at the hospital all night to meet him.
It didn't go exactly as I had wanted it to, but it went much better than I expected for a hospital birth. The midwife and nurse read my birth plan when I came in and were constantly referring to it throughout the labor and delivery. They were respectful of our desire for a natural birth and helped us to that end.
Would I do it again? Definitely. I questioned our decision for a natural birth while in labor and in the few minutes following the birth, but the benefits greatly outweighed the pain that I felt. The birth was very intense, and it is so sweet to remember my husband coaching me, crying with me, and praying for me in those moments I felt so hopeless.
I still wince when I see someone walking or playing tennis with leg cramps, and I can remember how they felt nine years ago as if it were yesterday. But those labor pains from seven months ago? I really can't remember them. I can remember how to describe them, but the memories don't make me cringe; it's almost as if it were an out-of-body experience. I had always been told that God helps you forget the pain so that you'll do it again. I totally understand that now, and I can't wait for my next birth experience!
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