This is the story of our fifth child’s unmedicated, unbelievably beautiful birth. It does involve blood, sweat, tears and some other bodily fluids so if that’s not your jam feel free to skip this post!
I was asked several times during this pregnancy whether my babies tend to come early or late. I always responded that I’m only punctual when I’m delivering a baby. Spoiler alert: This girl arrived riiiight on time!
With the past three pregnancies I dilated weeks early, and my dad flew out with plenty of time to spare to make sure he didn’t miss the big event. However, this time he didn’t come until two days before my due date. I was dilated to a 3, had a huge belly and baby was low and ready to go. But, we were still settling into our new house and I wasn’t uncomfortably pregnant at all. On the morning my dad arrived, I told my doctor that I still wasn’t really ready to have a baby yet. He looked at me like I was crazy.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t excited to meet our little one, but I knew that this may be our last baby and that knowledge had me dragging my feet a little. Every day I was pregnant could be my last day feeling those private nudges and karate chops from inside my own belly. It’s a sensation so strange to someone not pregnant (including me!) but so normal when it’s a 24/7 party in your womb. I miss it a little as I type this.
There’s also something intoxicating about the anticipation of meeting and instantly loving a new child. I was really savoring all those feelings.
Plus, labor hurts. 🙂
Nevertheless, I asked my doctor to strip my membranes at that appointment, sticking to the plan to welcome Baby as soon as possible after my dad arrived.
Later that day I took a long walk with hardly any contractions, then sat on the couch and watched a movie having regular contractions throughout. The contractions evaporated when I stood up at the end. After talking to my dad late into the night, I was grateful to sink into bed for a good night’s sleep and *not* be in labor yet.
How I Prepared
(You can safely skip this section unless you’re pregnant….)
My first birth was emergently induced and I had an epidural.
My second birth was electively induced and I wanted to be unmedicated but really didn’t prepare to manage the pain myself. I ended up asking for an epidural late in the game and I went numb just after my baby came out. I vowed never to do that again.
I prepared better for my third baby, loosely following the “hypnobirthing” philosophy. It honestly wasn’t a good fit for me, though, and when things really got going I struggled to cope with the contractions. But, I was dilated to a 9 before the nurse agreed to admit me so there was no time for an epidural at that point even if I’d asked for one.
I read up on the Bradley Method for my fourth birth and liked it much better. I was fairly calm leading up to the birth and handled the pain of labor more calmly. However, the pushing part really threw me for a loop. I felt that the atmosphere in the room got instantly tense and intense. It seemed as though people were hollering at me and counting down every push and contraction, as if they were in a tremendous rush to get the baby out. I panicked and in the haze of the moment thought something was the matter with me or the baby. My doctor even snapped at me, which didn’t help me relax any. It turns out all was just fine! It was frustrating afterwards to realize the beautiful moments surrounding the birth were needlessly filled with an extra dose of anxiety for me. I’ve never had to push very long with any of my babies and there was no indication of distress for the baby, so I couldn’t understand why the feeling in the room was so tense.
This time around I did two things that were hugely beneficial as I prepared:
- I read lots and lots of natural birth stories on Mamanatural.com . They are brief and varied in terms of the philosophies and outcomes of the women but they normalized childbirth and were very empowering to me. Billions of women have birthed billions of babies without pain relief and I could too.
- I read the book “The Gift of Giving Life: Rediscovering the Divine Nature of Pregnancy and Birth” (affiliate link). It’s a book written by and for women who are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and I’m not sure it would appeal to a broader audience but it was tremendously helpful to me. As a person whose faith is very important to me and who daily seeks God’s help with a variety of challenges, I was chagrined to realize I really had not sought His help or guidance with childbirth previously. Somehow I had neatly divided that incredibly demanding day from the rest of my life and tried to handle it on my own. The book highlighted so many beautiful scriptures that touch on the topic of childbirth and it was eye-opening to see how pondering physical birth can point us to the Atonement of Jesus Christ and help us understand and appreciate His sacrifice more deeply. I had always felt the unmistakable and beautiful feeling of nearness to heaven after my previous babies were born (how can you not?) but I had not previously sought nor felt a nearness to God in the hours of my travail. I was determined to change that this time around.
I did two other things to prepare for birth, with more mixed results.
- I read up on the pushing stage and found that the “count down” style of pushing would likely be totally unnecessary for unmedicated births because women feel an urge to bear down that needs no counting. This was my experience with Baby #3 and I was irritated that with Baby #4 I just pushed when everyone told me to even though I don’t think my body was ready. I read that “breathing down” the baby, instead of pushing while holding your breath, was very effective and that it’s very common to have a break between transition and pushing. All this made me determined to push on my own terms this time as long as I was confident all was well with the baby. *Spoiler Alert: This did not go as planned! And my confidently assertive self ate some humble pie.*
- I ate dates every day my ninth month. Some studies show it prepares the uterus for a smoother labor and recovery, and I love dates. I’m not sure how effective they were in helping Lauren’s birth, but I do think this regular date eating increased my love for them, which is probably NOT a good thing. 😉
Friday, July 20th
FINAL BODILY FLUID WARNING. You’ve been warned.
The day after my doctor stripped my membranes, I lost my mucus plug. This surprised me since I was already dilated, it grossed me out because it is definitely gross, and it also mildly frustrated me because it *could* be a sign of impending labor but it might also just be surprising and gross and not mean anything.
I jokingly gave my husband and mom the unexciting labor highlights during the day, which consisted of more mucus plug shenanigans and not much else.
Scott picked up a big exercise ball from my friend on his way home for work because I love sitting on one when I’m preparing for labor and I thought I would have several days to use it.
Before dinner, my dad wondered about getting in a long bike ride and even though I wasn’t having regular contractions at all, I told him he’d better go sooner rather than later. Clue #1
I pumped up that exercise ball and started bouncing on it. Meanwhile, Scott and Mackenzie were having an intense, heart-to-heart discussion in the adjoining room and I kept hoping he’d wrap it up and feed the kids because I was in the zone bouncing.
I sat and bounced on that ball instead of feeding the kids dinner, even though at this point it was past 8 o’clock. Clue #2
In hindsight, this was pretty strange behavior. Telling my dad to hurry up on his bike ride, ignoring my kids and focusing on bouncing on a ball, but my mind was just in The Labor Place already. I was having a few contractions, but nothing out of the ordinary. Scott finally came into the kitchen and raised his eyebrows at empty plates on the table. I explained that I couldn’t really feed the kids dinner because I was busy. He asked me about my contractions and I sheepishly replied they were pretty far apart but I stubbornly continued to sit on that ball anyway, so he fed the kids and started getting them to bed (by 9:45).
I didn’t say anything to anyone about it being The Night, but I did gladly carry Josie to her crib between contractions and snuggled her a little tighter, just quietly thinking she wouldn’t be my baby by morning. Clue #3
For the next hour and a half I laid on the couch on my side, watching YouTube tutorials on homeschooling and meal planning. I timed contractions on my phone. They were 8-15 minutes apart but felt fairly serious. Scott sent my dad to bed and cleaned up the kitchen thoroughly (because he quietly anticipated someone else coming to our house that night to watch the kids!). That man can read me like a book.
I shuffled up to our room and started packing a hospital bag for baby and me. There’s no minute like the last minute, right?
I was pretty surprised to see my phone ring at 11:30. My friend had had a rough day and wanted to talk (not knowing I was in labor). I listened for 25 minutes and just gave her mm-hmms during the contractions if her comments necessitated a response.
Scott came up and I explained to him nonverbally (with my free hand and my facial expressions) who I was talking to and also that I was most definitely in labor.
Right around midnight I knew if I didn’t get off the phone, the game would be up, so I wrapped up the conversation a little abruptly. As soon as I hung up, I found it helpful to get on my knees and lean on something while vocalizing in a low tone. Imagine the sound of a cow lowing and you’ll be close.
Scott started hustling the things I had set out into a bag at this point. 🙂
Saturday, July 21st
Without much warning, I had a contraction that made me think an epidural would be mighty nice. I went ahead and asked Scott to text my friend who was going to stay with the kids and I also asked him to give me a priesthood blessing. He laid his hands on my head and pronounced a beautiful blessing. I felt heavenly help that was almost tangible and I felt an overwhelming reassurance that my body was designed to do this, and I would not be alone in my hour(s) of need. From that moment on, the contractions were more manageable. It was as if my mind cleared and a blanket of peace was wrapped around me. Each contraction was no longer painful, they were powerful and bringing me closer to meeting my baby. Even after four previous labors, I’d never felt anything like it.
We got in the car with my dad at 12:37, but only after I had knelt down in our driveway and moaned through a contraction (and done the same for two in the garage!).
Scott predicted a 1:17 am arrival for the baby and he’s been spot on in the past. I said 3 am, thinking I’d play it conservative and my dad said 2:45, trying to play Switzerland, I suppose.
My new technique for this labor of kneeling and moaning was a beautiful thing for me, but it was new to Scott and he did *not* want to have a baby born in the car. Accordingly, he was inclined to drive fast to the hospital but I had him slow down big time for turns. Between contractions I mostly joked that we could turn around and go home because it wasn’t that serious yet. Truthfully I was just handling the contractions so much better that I was sure I wasn’t in transition.
We parked in the parking garage and I was offered a wheelchair outside the ED by some concerned bystanders. Of course I needed to have Scott whisk me off my feet and carry me over the threshold per tradition, but first I made everyone nervous by dropping to my knees by the wheelchair and lowing kind of like a cow. In fact, I think the passerbys were more uncomfortable than I was at that point. Ha!
Then it was over the threshold and I made everyone nervous by leaning on the trash can in the lobby and moaning. (Are you noticing a pattern?) The nurses were convinced I was a vomit risk because why else would someone choose a garbage can to moan over? I’ll tell you why: I had a magic formula for getting through each contraction and I wasn’t about to mess with success. That garbage can was in the right place at the right time.
I had one contraction during registration and I must have put the fear in the transport lady with the wheelchair because she commented to Scott about how someone had actually delivered their baby in that lobby a few days before. Then she power-pushed me up and around and up and over in the convoluted path to the labor and delivery unit. I had a contraction on the scale and several more in triage. While waiting for a break in contractions in order to check my cervix, the nurse ultimately said she’d just admit me. She was confident I wasn’t trying to pull one over on her. 😉
When she checked me I was a 7-8 and a few minutes later I felt a little pressure and I was a 9 with a bulging bag of waters. Game on!
The Doctor Backstory
My first baby was delivered by a doctor I’d never met. He just happened to be on call for my OB’s practice.
My third baby was delivered by a random resident because they couldn’t get an attending to the room in time.
I accepted the fact whoever saw me for my prenatal care would probably not actually deliver my baby. In a large practice, each OB is only on call relatively infrequently.
When I first knew we were pregnant this time around, I had called to see if I could get Dr. F because I’d heard wonderful things about him. He wasn’t accepting new patients and I ended up getting fine prenatal care from Dr. C at the same practice. Well, Dr. F ended up being the OB on call the night Lauren was born, even though he was a seasoned OB and it was a Friday night. “The joke’s on him,” laughed the nurse when I told her that I had wanted him to be my doctor all along. Also, the Labor and Delivery floor was unusually quiet that night.
Both of those facts turned out to be hugely helpful to me.
I know babies are born in less than perfect circumstances all the time and that the most important thing is that they arrive safely. However, I had a rough time in the aftermath of my last labor because I felt like the atmosphere in the room was incredibly tense and rushed when I was bringing Josie into this world. As I later learned, there was no reason for that! She was fine; I was fine. But there was still a loud urgency to the pushing instruction, and the atmosphere in the room panicked me. I pushed before I felt ready; I felt overwhelmed by pain and scared. The most important thing occurred: She was born healthy and well. However, it took a long time for me to consider having another baby and part of the reason was the recollection of the (needless, extra) difficulty of bringing my previous baby into the world.
Dr. F was absolutely the perfect doctor for me when I labored with Lauren. He was experienced, calm, matter-of-fact, reaffirming of my capabilities, patient, and just plain kind. He was a voice of reason and wisdom when I questioned myself, and I was about to do a lot of that.
To be continued…