Birth Notes

We left in plenty of time, and without disturbing Orson's sleep, and got in a bit early. We got settled and I got changed and they put me on the fetal monitor to get a good reading to make sure all was fine with the baby before Stan arrived.

Stan arrived at more like 7:40 and I was still on the monitor. He did an internal exam and I was already 2cm dilated, much to my great relief - I didn't want to be induced with gel again if at all possible. He broke my waters and prepared to put in a drip to speed things along. I didn't want the drip, and Liam was the one who refused it for me.

Stan said okay, but I'd be wasting my day waiting for labor to start. I said I didn't mind. We agreed he'd come back and check on me in two hours and if nothing had happened by then, the drip would go in. He left at 7:50. My labor started at 8:00am.

After a bit of fiddling, the midwives managed to put a needle in the back of my hand to take the antibiotic I needed as I was strep b positive.

I have to say at this point about our midwives. Maryanne was our designated midwife initially, but Fiona, who'd been our midwife for Orson, turned up and lobbied to be put in with us again. Although we liked Maryanne just fine, we were very pleased to have Fiona team up with us again. Fiona told us that Stan really liked to have his patients on the fetal heart monitor as much as possible while in labor, so in order to facilitate our desire not to be confined until necessary, she suggested we put off declaring this as labor until it was really well underway. To this end she left us fairly much alone in the early part of labor, checking in to see how we were doing from time to time.

Contractions were around five minutes apart at first. I walked around and around the room, listening to the music Liam had put on and listening to Liam telling me to relax. The contractions seemed pretty nasty, about half the time pushing pain into the front of my thighs as well. I wondered - if this was early labor - how Deirdre managed to finish up at work, get home, make dinner for everyone and put Nora to bed before heading for the hospital when she had Daniel. The answer is that what I was experiencing was NOT early labor.

Contractions started coming more like two minutes apart - from start of one to the start of the next - and getting consistently more painful. Liam's asked about labor pain and I have to concur with Diane who's said before that it's mostly like really bad gas. Really, really, bad gas - the kind that can double you over.

I stopped walking around and retreated to the bed when I had a contraction that was so bad I could no longer stand, even after the contraction itself had subsided. Fiona then put the fetal monitor on me and it stayed on for the rest of the labor. I kind of curled up on the right side of the bed, and Liam sat by me, getting up to cradle my head and upper body as he saw a contraction starting to crest on the monitor. He'd tell me to relax and breathe, and I'd try to close my eyes and relax and melt into him until the contraction started to fall away, and then I'd tell him he could sit down, as it was physically demanding work for him, too, and I needed him to get as much rest as he could.

Fiona would tell me I was doing great, which I remembered her doing for Orson's birth, although I'd forgotten it in the interim. It was definitely reassuring to have her being so encouraging.

Contractions got worse and worse, until I felt I needed to vocalize to get through them. I guess it's the concerted exhalation that helps you to relax when relaxation otherwise becomes difficult. I tried to keep eye contact with Liam between contractions, and tried to keep the mood light - in this, it was a very different experience than with Orson when most of the time I think I was barely conscious. Contractions got so bad that I started shaking from muscle exhaustion between them. This seriously compromised my ability to relax, and Fiona suggested the gas, which I agreed to.

I'd used the gas last time, and I remember both Fiona and Liam telling me to breathe the gas, as I'd keep dropping the mouthpiece away. This time I had enough self-possession that I only missed once on the gas, which really helped.

They say the gas takes an edge off the pain. I found that it made me lightheaded in a way that I could disassociate myself from the pain, and that made it more bearable. And it stopped the shaking, which was the best thing about it.

Contractions continued to get worse. I think from what Liam said it wasn't that they actually got worse so much as that they now came right on top of each other so my body wasn't getting a break. I remember looking at the clock and wondering if I could stay the distance. Over two hours had passed, but I imagined a six hour labor. I started thinking about the possibility of more to kill the pain. I really reached my limit, and said I wasn't sure I could do it all anymore. It's funny, because your body of course can do what it needs to, but your mind goes into a state of panicked disbelief. Fiona seemed to think that perhaps I was closer than I thought, and asked me if I felt the need to defecate. I didn't, and didn't pay her words much heed.

And then I did - I felt the head crowning, like I was trying to pass a large hot coal. Fiona asked me to roll over onto my back, and I said I couldn't, but with her help I did. She asked me to stop pushing and huff, and I said I couldn't but I tried to. She then asked me to push and I said I couldn't but I did. Out came the baby's head in just a couple of pushes, and then the rest of her as well. It was 10:19am.

Liam clamped her cord and she was put on my tummy, and then wrapped up and given to Liam. We told everyone we were calling her Miranda.

Some time after that Stan came in and I had the wherewithal to ask him if it was time for that drip yet, with a big grin on my face. He carefully stitched up my tears and after Miranda's weighing and bath I was able to walk to my room. Fiona had advertised Liam as the best support person she'd ever seen, and contrived to have him wheel the baby's bassinet out into the corridor for the people at the front desk to see, which was fine by me - he'd definitely done terrifically. I was so relieved it was a short labor for two reasons - firstly, I wanted to be in good shape so my taking care of Orson would be possible (after Orson's labor I pretty much didn't leave bed for two weeks), and secondly, I didn't want to put Liam through the tough time he'd had during the last labor. There were tears this time, but they were happy, relieved, amazed tears.

We were both pretty tired, but lay on the bed and talked about the labor and marveled at how well it had gone, and were amazed - but also kind of in disbelief - that we already had the baby.

*

Having a baby you're juggling the baby herself with what's happened to your body. You're torn and bleeding, and have all the fluids that were surrounding the baby slowly (and sometimes not so slowly) draining from your body. For the next couple of weeks you won't smell like yourself (I felt the smell of lochia was the smell of me being badly injured), even if you are lucky enough to get regular showers despite having a new baby to take care of at home. And you have at first the colostrom and then mountains of breast milk leaking out as well. And straight out of the birthing room you're bone tired because of all that work your body has been doing (and probably all the sleep you've lost the night before) and still smarting from the stitching that's been done, and the needles and tape that have been removed. You hopefully have enough pain killer in your system to get by for the first couple of days, but what with the broken sleep you're getting dealing with the new baby, and the feeling that your body's undergone a great assault, it's hard to feel like yourself. Being a new mother is maybe the first time in your life you have to let go enough to decide it's got to be okay for people to visit and find you still rumpled in your pajamas, maybe with a breast bared as you feed your infant. It's certainly not something you ever think will be such a big mental hurdle before you give birth. You wonder what people will think, seeing you in such a compromised state. And you have to decide you don't care.

And then there's the mental hurdle of asking for help. We women are brought up to be independent, but when it comes to recovering from having a baby, it's hard to avoid leaning hard on everyone around you, and that's not something I felt comfortable with the first time around. I'm terribly blessed to have such a great support network at home, but it's still often hard to ask for help when I feel like I should be able to cope on my own.

Look at Images from Miranda's first four days ...