Daniel’s Birth Story – It’s a Boy!

My apologies for the delay in posting this! I truly didn’t mean to leave anyone hanging.

In case you missed them, here are links for the first two parts of the story:
Part 1 : Setting the Stage
Part 2 : Before the Hospital

Triage

This was my first experience with the dreaded triage area of the labor & delivery floor and I had a lot of trepidation before my progress was checked. Would I have to do the walk of shame back to the car to wait it out at home until I was in “real” labor?

Scott says: It seemed to take the nurse a long time to get Anne on the monitor. I wanted to see the baby’s heartrate and see her contractions on the screen. It was just after 11 pm when she got all set up.

The nurse declared that I was 4-5 cm dilated and 90% effaced. Scott and I shrugged. I was a 4 at my appointment at morning so that was a bit of progress and surely enough to be admitted, I thought. After all, my doctor had said my cervix would melt away and we should head to the hospital at the first sign of real labor.

But, as it turns out, the nurse had to call the physician from the practice that was covering that night before she could make any decisions (Dr. M), though she promised to page my doctor (Dr. S) if I was admitted. The monitor wasn’t picking up my contractions very well and the baby’s heartrate wasn’t very responsive to the contractions either, so I spent the first 25 minutes hooked up to the monitors trying to think positive thoughts. I mainly moved around the room and leaned on the wall or the bed and swayed my hips and breathed slowly during contractions. I was clearly feeling pain but the monitor was not impressed. At one point the nurse actually put her hand on my belly while I was swaying to check if there was, indeed, a contraction taking place.

Loops

Dr. M wanted me to wait and see if I progressed before he was willing to admit me. So, Scott and I fetched my dad and we walked VERY slow loops around the labor & delivery floor.

Scott says: These are loops that typically take me 2 1/2 minutes to walk. We were averaging a 25 minute/loop pace.

Every minute or so, I’d lean up on the wall and breathe and sway through a contraction.

Scott says: Anne had to stop every 10 feet and hold onto the hand rail on the wall while she waited out a contraction. I remember at one point there was a 15 foot gap before the next hand rail and she had to seriously consider if she could get from point A to point B between contractions.

By the time we had completed two loops, I was in a lot of discomfort. I remember asking for Scott’s help during one contraction (come rub my back, will you?), and then two minutes later during another contraction snapping very quickly (don’t touch me!) when he reached for my back again. He did a great job of letting things like this roll off his back and he kept assuring me I was doing great.

Meanwhile, I felt like I was coping pretty well so far. I was certainly in the zone and focused.

When Scott, intending to be supportive, ventured a comment about the possibility of not being admitted, I actually laughed. “We are not going home, Honey,” I responded. He tried again, “Lots of people go home and then come back later to have their babies. That would be just fine.” After pausing for yet another contraction, I told him most emphatically that I would NOT be going home and that even walking to the car was not a possibility at this point.

When a full hour had passed since I was first checked we headed back to triage.

Progress

It was around 12:15 am at this point and I was optimistic that I had made a lot of progress, because I felt like the contractions were pretty intense and frequent. When I was checked, however, the nurse told me I had only dilated to 5-6 cm. Because my cervix had changed one centimeter in an hour I was declared to be in active labor (barely) and was eligible to be admitted to the hospital.

I was a little disappointed in the slow progress, but mainly I was nervous for the contractions still ahead of me. They were barely at the edge of what I felt capable of handling at this point and I didn’t know how many hours I could go on.

Scott says: I was glad to hear Anne had progressed so she could be admitted. But pretty quickly I came to the realization that this was shaping up to be a very long night! I told Anne that my estimate for a delivery time of 12:56 am may need to be revised. We both chuckled a little, nervously.

Meanwhile…

While the nurse was making arrangements to admit me and prepping an IV, I was leaning on the sink in the corner, swaying through contractions. As each contraction peaked, I was starting to feel overwhelmed and I was having to remind myself repeatedly to relax.

I started to feel nauseous and told Scott I needed something to throw up in.

Scott says: This should have been a warning flag, since Anne was leaning over a sink at the time and could have thrown up in there had she been thinking clearly. However, I knew better than to argue so I fetched a plastic tub from the nursing station for her.

The tub wasn’t right. I needed some quality time with porcelain so I mumbled something about needing to use the bathroom and I made my way down the hallway. I had one contraction on the way there and three in the bathroom and they were killer. I found myself saying (out loud. awesome.) “you can do this you can do this you can do this” as a contraction began and then whimpering “I can’t do this! I can’t do this!” as the contraction peaked. The thought honestly crossed my mind that maybe if I stayed in the bathroom I could hide there and the pain wouldn’t get any worse.

Reason took over and I made my way back to the triage room and the sink in the corner. I had one more contraction there and told Scott confidentially as it peaked, “I’m not sure I can do this without an epidural!” Coincidentally, the triage nurse was on the phone with a nurse on the floor at that point who wanted to know if I planned on having an epidural once I was in my room. The triage nurse said “no” as we had previously discussed, but Scott interrupted with a “maybe”. Despite being sort of delirious at that point, I managed to be indignant. It was one thing for me to have doubts, but Scott shouldn’t be so easily swayed! (In his defense, I really didn’t think I could handle things at that point. But I didn’t want HIM to think the same thing. It was probably a lose-lose for him, poor guy.)

On the next contraction, I begged for ice and started rubbing it all over my face, wishing the pain away. And then? I felt pressure, almost like I needed to push. The nurse was asking me to come sit on the bed so she could place an IV and I told her I felt pressure. She and Scott instantly tried to get me to get on the bed but I refused to move from the sink. In my mind, the bed could have been on the other side of the hospital. It was utterly impossible to get there.

Scott says: When Anne said she couldn’t move, I asked if she was having a contraction. Nope, just couldn’t move. I was ready to pick her up and PUT her on the bed at that point if needed.

They were determined though, and after much cajoling I finally took two steps (Scott: tiny steps) backwards to reach the bed, whereupon I immediately curled up on my side on the bottom half of the bed with my belly and legs hanging halfway off the bed. The nurse decided the IV could wait and started moving the bed to the delivery room.

Oh lying on my side on that bed was such sweet relief. I didn’t feel any contractions on the way to the delivery room. It was heavenly.

Scott says: Because Anne was only halfway on the bed, she and the bed could not fit through the door to the main area of the labor & delivery ward. The nurse tried to reposition her but Anne started moaning and the nurse quickly reconsidered. Instead, she had me open the other half of the double-door to get the bed through. 🙂

Baby Imminent

When we got in the room, people were still getting things set up and I heard the triage nurse explain (apologetically, I thought) “she’s 5-6 cm dilated but said she’s feeling pressure” and I instantly felt sheepish. I started to wonder if maybe things weren’t as serious as they felt.

Scott says: I started to have a strong sense that Anne’s decreased coherence was due to her being in transition. When she kept saying that she felt the need to push I was thinking, “Someone better check her again and they better do it fast.”

Between contractions I managed to scoot myself onto the delivery bed, and when they finally checked me again things really got exciting. I was completely effaced and dilated to a 9. Suddenly everyone was rushing around like mad and the next several minutes were a blur. I remember:

• I alternated between moments of eerie calm and lucidity and moments of desperation.
• When I learned I was a 9, I immediately asked Scott to text my dad to let him know. Time of text: 12:37. It had been 20 minutes since I was a 5-6 and they said I could be admitted.
• During one contraction, I asked in desperation “Can’t somebody else do this for me?” and a nurse I didn’t know asked, “Do what?” I replied, “Get this baby out of me!” and she laughed and told me I would definitely have to be the one to do it. She was right, but at the time that felt absolutely impossible and I wished she had been willing to think outside the box a little.
• They were determined to place an IV but agreed to do so while I was lying on my side. Scott remembered to request no fluids, just a hep lock.
• I remember pointing out to Scott that my water still hadn’t broken, and I offered this as evidence that I couldn’t almost be ready to have a baby.
• Scott asked if Dr. M. or Dr. S. was at the hospital yet and was told that, no, neither was there. Dr. P. was the attending in the hospital and would have to deliver me. He knew Dr. P. and was ok with that, but I was getting a little anxious at this point.

I was suddenly completely overwhelmed with the urge to push and when I announced it, everyone hollered at me NOT to push. I really had no choice in the matter, though, and proceeded to push out, involuntarily, what I thought was the baby’s head. In hindsight, it was way too small and easy to get out though…

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when a nurse announced it was part of the amniotic sac.

Big gush. Followed by a temporary reprieve from the pushy feeling.

The need to push came back with a vengeance but apparently people weren’t ready yet because everyone was hollering at me NOT to push no matter what. Scott put his face next to mine, looked me in the eyes, breathed in and out slowly and said “Breathe through it. Don’t push.” and I didn’t! For three contractions, I managed to focus on him and not my body.

Two residents had shown up to catch the baby (and were surprised to be greeted by Scott, a fellow resident). I was aware enough to realize that NEITHER of these doctors was Dr. P.

Things were finally deemed sufficiently prepped, but before I could start pushing I was told that I needed to be in a certain position. Without Scott’s face locked on mine, I lost focus and started pushing involuntarily (but ineffectively) as people kept telling me what to do to get in the proper position (shift over, roll, grab your legs, lean forward, etc.).

Finally, all was ready for pushing.

Except, I had two contractions with zero urge to push whatsoever. I caught my breath, relaxed, and asked the bewildered residents if they were *sure* that everything was ready down below. “The baby is ready to come out? Really?”

They tried to coach me through how to push (grab your legs, hold your breath, count to 10, etc.) and I made a token effort to appease the crowd but I knew that when my body was ready, I wouldn’t need that kind of direction. Sure enough, on the third contraction, my body said “NOW!” and a few contractions later, the baby crowned.

Scott was shocked to see I stopped pushing just as the head crowned, but again, my body stopped saying it was time to push and I was waiting until the next contraction. The room full of people telling me to push won out though, and I ended up holding my breath, counting to 10 and getting that head out.

Daniel

When they pulled Daniel out and were lifting him up to put him on my belly, Scott opened his mouth to announce the gender…

“It’s a….”

But before he could finish his sentence, he paused in disbelief at the same time that I was seeing with my own eyes that we had our first boy! 🙂

Scott: Here is a transcript of what went through my mind at the time of delivery explaining the 4 second delay between the time of birth and the time of announcing the gender.
Brain: Okay… be ready to announce the gender as soon as it comes out. Big responsibility. Don’t forget.
Eyes: Shhh… I’m watching. I see a torso!
Brain: Not important yet. Keep watching.
Eyes: I see a… um… not girl?
Brain: Statistically improbable. Check again.
Eyes: I’m… I’m pretty sure it’s a boy.
Brain: You’re tired. Check again.
Eyes: Look. I definitely see boy parts. Not girl parts. I know the difference.
Brain: Scanning for alternate explanations… maybe defective wiring in the visual cortex…
Eyes: Seriously. Boy. Boy. Boy.
Brain: Fine. But I’m still skeptical.

Time of arrival: 12:58 am .

He was very blue but had a healthy holler and calmed right down when he was on my belly. His umbilical cord had a true knot and was looped once around his neck so we were especially grateful his arrival was quick and uneventful.

I didn’t tear at all. He nursed like a champ in the delivery room and they were great about giving us over an hour to soak him up, take pictures, and cuddle.