It's been a whirlwind since I gave birth to you on Monday (June 10) morning. So much so, that I'm just going to skip week 39 and all it entails because it's pretty irrelevant at the moment. I'm writing down my birth story so you and I will always remember. Here goes:
So my final prenatal appointment was when I was 39 weeks and one day, on Friday, June 7. Nothing seemed to be changing in my body, and it just felt like I was going to be preggers with you forever. In fact, I did my last workout on week 39. The midwives appointment went well, and they were happy that I was full term. They decided they were going to "sweep my membranes" at my 40th week, which was exactly one week later. That means they were going to separate my amniotic sac from my uterus, and hopefully jumpstart the whole birthing process. Well that didn't have to happen because...
I think a part of me knew. After my appointment, I went to Union Station and had a bunch of junk food. It felt like something was changing in my body, although I wasn't sure what. That evening I went home and your dad came home from work like always and we had a great evening watching a movie, etc. The next day I didn't go to the gym like I planned, because the Friday evening before I was feeling all sorts of weird: extremely crampy, things shifting down there, just...out of sorts. I spent most of the evening on my yoga ball trying to relax.
The next day (Saturday) I had a chill day. I didn't go to meditation or do any of my routine Saturday errands (and even cancelled a much needed haircut). I laid low and had a low-key lunch with two friends after letting them know I "felt weird." The weird feeling was knowing there was something impending and "everything changing." I wasn't ready! I mean, I really wanted to meet you, but being pregnant meant I could still live my life like it was my old life, with you safely tucked inside of me. I knew something transformative and overwhelming was about to happen. And little did I know how soon it was all about to change...
So Saturday, June 8 seemed like a typical Saturday night for your dad and I. He got home from work at 6 p.m. and we ate some food, and he prepared me a nice bowl of fruit. We were sitting on the couch watching one of the X-Men movies, when I felt something pop inside of me. I jumped up (he thought I saw a roach 😆) but it was my water breaking. As soon as the pop happened, things started streaming out of me. Sorry for the TMI but that's how it went down. Your dad and I called the midwives immediately, and they told me I had 12 hours to labor at home before I had to go to the hospital. But the first thing we had to do was get a thermometer. That was to ensure I wasn't getting an infection, which was a sign I needed to head to the hospital sooner rather than later. So the next 12 hours was...interesting. I felt contractions every few minutes but it wasn't consistent. By the time the next day rolled around, your dad and I were feeling very calm, and slowly got all our bags together that we had packed a few weeks before.
We went on a nice walk, and ran into a friend and I told her my water broke and we were headed to the hospital. It was a beautiful Sunday morning. We took a Lyft to the hospital while I tried to listen to my hypnosis tracks while your dad gave the driver directions. We got to the hospital, checked in, and sat in a chair for some time while I still listened to the hypnosis tracks since I planned for a natural birth with no epidural.
Ok, so after I was checked in, your dad and I were taken to the room where we would be laboring and delivering you. I wasn't sure about the midwife, named Rebecca, but I was totally sure I couldn't stand my nurse, who was a woman who started to talk for me and then said something to the effect of "in English we say" which made me snap and go "what did you say? I'm American and I speak English." That was a bad moment for me. Up until that point I was calm and in a zen place and that poopy-head nurse made me freak out. Your dad, thankfully, handled it, and went outside and told the midwife what she said, and we were quickly given an alternate nurse. And that's when I really started to like Rebecca! She came in and was so great and said she had to calm down before having the conversation about the nurse situ cos she was so offended on my behalf. The nurse we were assigned was a woman named Breeanna, and she was amazing!!!!!
So...this is when things got intense. I was basically feeling my contractions and some were more painful than others but overall, things were OK. Our doula, named Frankie, showed up a few hours later and she was amazing. She helped me with a warm compress, and every time a contraction came, she helped me by working through it by stretching and breathing and being overall awesome about everything. The midwife, Rebecca, warned me though, that since my water broke, I was at risk of infection, so we had to get this birthing thing going. I was at 2 centimeters dilated (you need to get to 10 cm so I had a ways to go!) She wanted me to go on pitocin, which creates (painful) contractions by mimicking ocytocin. I didn't want to take drugs or meds, so I opted to do something more natural...nipple stimulation.
Don't worry! This is not TMI involving your dad and I haha! I ended up using a breast pump and essentially the act of pumping your breasts for milk gets the oxytocin going. The contractions were feeling more intense, but unfortunately, they weren't strong enough. The midwife said I wasn't dilated enough, even after several rounds of that breast pumping thing. That was hard to deal with, especially because the three contractions I had right after I did my final round of breast pumping were quite difficult. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being the highest level of pain, they were about a 6-7. Ugh. And the problem was: the contractions needed to get longer (at least a minute) and harder, in order for me to be considered being in active labor. At that point I was just killing time.
I had a choice to make: I was in natural labor for about 20 hours before I realized that I needed to take piticon in order for you to come out vaginally, and for there to be less complications. And the thing about piticon: the contractions SUCK. I had gotten to the point where some of the contractions were really making me go out of my mind, and I knew one cold hard truth: the contractions HAD to get harder in order for my labor to progress. So I opted for an epidural. It was administered at around 5 p.m.
In the moment it seemed I made the decision rashly, but I don't think so. I had been researching childbirth and delivering and natural childbirth for the entire time I was pregnant with you, so I knew the reality about pitocin. The fact that the midwives kept on mentioning it to me as a necessary and not an option, made me realize how dire the situation was. And I was determined to have you vaginally (not via C-section) so I think that was the basis for my decision (some of this is still a blur). Some part of me feels bad for not having the natural childbirth I desired, but you came out perfectly, and more on that later...
So your aunt, TC, was on her way from California for your birth. My water broke on Saturday night when she was right about to board the plane to NJ. She boarded the plane, took a five hour nap, then drove down just in time for the real action to begin. The epidural started working within 10 minutes and then the piticon was administered. I ended up sleeping (the best sleep of my life it seems!) for hours while the piticon did its thing. The last vaginal exam they did, I was dilated 2 centimeters, and it was important for me to get to 10 centimeters. They (the midwives) then started talking about putting a foley catheter inside me, which is some type of something that is supposed to help the cervix thin out. Your dad and I decided against it, and so again, we waited a few hours while the piticon did its work.
The midwives again came back and said the situation was dire, with my water having broken for hours and the contractions and active labor not even started. So your dad and I agreed to the foley catheter. But then they did an exam and I was 6 centimeters dilated!!!!! That meant I didn't need the foley catheter!
Anyways...things picked up by then. I had been in active labor for hours and at around 3:30 a.m. my cervix was fully dilated and I was ready to push you out! There was my team assembled: your dad, your aunt, the midwife, nurse, and our doula. The doula was really integral to this whole thing. It was all quite amazing now that I think about it!
So for two hours, every time a contraction came, I was told to do a crunch and then push really hard for 10 seconds, 4 sets. This happened for a long time and I was tired and kinda ready to call it in. Then they brought me a mirror, because your head was emerging! And it gave me all I needed to keep pushing. It was kinda funny because it was around the time I go to the gym that you were finally pushed out of me.
So...for the action part! Everyone was cheering me on, your dad was holding one leg, your aunt was holding the other leg and in the mirror I could slowly see your head emerge. And then, at 5:34 a.m., it happened! I pushed you through me! After pushing for 2 hours, you seemed to arrive in a span of minutes. The umbilical cord was wrapped around your neck, so the midwives dealt with that, and then all of the sudden, you were placed on my chest. It was surreal to finally feel you and touch you. I also saw your dad's face and he was crying and it was so beautiful.
Anyways, I'm late to feeding you, so I've got to wrap things up. You are now 5 days old and it feels hella overwhelming (feeding you every 2 hours, being sleep deprived, having all of the hormones course through me) but every day, your dad and I fall more and more in love with you.
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