I am not one of those people who has a beautiful,
mother-earth kind of pregnancy. I get swollen, my face gets all chipmunky, I
pee every hour, I can’t sleep well, I feel nauseous. So staring down week 41 of
pregnancy with my second child was just plain depressing. I had labor pains
that built up and then petered out at week 39, and thought for sure it would be
any minute, and then any hour, and then any day. As the weeks crept on and I
started thinking any week now, I became sad. I couldn’t stand anyone’s joking
comments (“you’re STILL pregnant?!”) without breaking into sobs. My amazing
midwife, Deb, scheduled me for an induction on May 24th, 2016—the day
before my 34th birthday.
Then anxiety took over. I wanted a natural birth! Why was I
agreeing to an induction? Wasn’t induction a fast-track to C-section? I began
trying every natural remedy for inducing labor known to woman-kind. And if
anything, my contractions lessened. I felt further away from having that baby
then ever before as we drove through the early morning darkness to the hospital
for my 6AM induction. Once there, I got checked in and talked to the nurse
while my husband, Scott, tried to make me laugh by writing silly things on the All
About Me white board. My sister, Kristen, and doula, Marisa, met us shortly
thereafter and my midwife came in to begin the induction via Foley catheter
bulb and Cervadil. The insertion was a little painful (but not as painful as
the IV the nurses had to start to treat my Strep B—I’m a hard stick and it took
about 3 painful tries), and then I felt uncomfortably full. Full of a fully
grown baby. Full of a bulb full of saline. Full of worries and fears and hope.
Full.
About 30 minutes after the bulb was placed, I began having
contractions. Small at first, and building in intensity. My supports were all
talking to me and joking around. My amazing doula was diffusing lavender and
the lights were low, music playing. After
about 2 hours, I felt the need to pee, and lo and behold lost the bulb
in the toilet, which meant I was dilated to approximately a 4. Encouraging!
From there, I got on the yoga ball and bounced and rolled while my doula rubbed
my back. The contractions were intensifying and I was having trouble talking,
using all my focus and attention on my waves of contractions. I began deeply
breathing in a small lavender oils satchel that a friend had gifted me as I
labored through each contraction.
From there, I took to my feet with plans to walk the halls,
but quickly gave that up due to the building intensity of the pain, and opted
to move and sway in my room leaning against the countertop with the support of
my husband and doula. By this time, I was deeply inside myself in a meditative
state. I was focused entirely on each wave bringing my baby closer to me. I was
visualizing a beautiful waterfall and a grassy, tree-lined space. Then I puked.
I got scared. I wondered if I could do it. Wondered if I would need an epidural
if it didn’t end soon. Marisa gently encouraged me to make it through another
contraction and see, and then another. My supports lovingly praised me and
encouraged me. Then I think I started to cry. I got on all fours, which felt
like the thing to do. I asked the nurses to please check my progress because I
wasn’t sure I could do it without meds for much longer. I dug deep for the
courage to continue and push past this wall. They began checking me: dilated to
an 8 and 100% effaced. They called in my midwife, who said my bag of water was
bulging and broke it for me. My midwife encouraged me to place the peanut ball
between my legs on my side.
The rest feels like a blur because it happened so fast. They
asked me if I was pushing. I said I didn’t know. I was having trouble speaking
due to the intensity of the pain. My midwife stated that she could tell I was
pushing, and was checking to make sure I was completely dilated—I was. The
pushing was truly involuntary. It came from the deepest part of me and could
not be controlled. At that point I was turned on my far left side, with my left
arm underneath me and my right leg wide open. With four mighty pushes that came
with four primal screams out came my beautiful baby, Emerson Rose Foulk, born
at 1:27PM. She had dark, wet hair and was absolutely perfect. She was
immediately laid on my chest for skin to skin and began to nurse. After her
chord stopped pulsing, my husband cut it and she remained on my chest for what
felt like hours. Eventually she was scooped up and weighed 7lbs 3oz, 20inches
long. My labor challenged me to trust my body, trust the pace, trust my
supports, and most of all to trust myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment