E's Arrival: A Birth Story (The Conclusion!)

Really, it's not my intention to be so suspenseful.  It's just that this really simple, straightforward story has become unnecessarily protracted and long.  I, embarrassingly, cannot help myself.  I want to document the details for E.  And I enjoy reliving this happy memory.

So, yes.  Let the games begin.  It's 12:15 and officially Sunday, and just four hours after labor began.  We checked in with a security guard before making our way to the 3rd floor of the hospital.  Kinda like I am now with this birth story, the guard took forever in authorizing us to go past him.  Had I been in any serious amount of pain, I would have clocked him.  Seriously.  But instead we found humor in his strangeness, especially when he spelled my name as "Qorie" on S.'s visitor pass.  Seriously?

Finally, we were off.  In the elevator, I sat on my beloved ball for one wave.  Then, we had to walk for what seemed like an eternity to the nurses' station.  And as we approached - stopping just one more time to sit on my ball for another wave - I thought surely the nurses would question whether I was really, factually in labor.  I, mean, shouldn't I look more desperate?  Hysterical?  But then I saw my midwife.  I knew this was the real deal.  She was there.  I was there.  And I wasn't going home without a baby at this point.

Midwife K. ushered us to our L&D room.  She had chosen the room herself.  It was the farthest from the nurses' station in a quiet corner.  The room was dimly lit. Jennifer-Garner-the-nurse joined us.  Midwife K. asked me what I wanted to wear (I had a choice?!  Um, just give me a gown.  Thank you!).  Then, she asked me to sit on the bed for the 20-minute course of antibiotics. She asks me, "guess where [Jennifer Garner] had her baby?"  Me:  "the car?" (I'm still haunted by mama K.'s car delivery).  Midwife:  "No!  Loudoun INOVA!" (That's where A. was born and midwife K. remembers this.)  Jennifer Garner:  "I delivered my daughter in 7 minutes." Then, Jennifer Garner proceeeds to tell us a hilarious, somewhat profanity-laced version of her daughter's birth story.  The mood is light.  We all laugh.  Meanwhile, S. offered to park our car and to retrieve all of our belongings.  

While S. is away, midwife K. decided to check my progress.  She asked me if I wanted to guess how far along I was.  Hmmmm.  I wasn't sure.  I wasn't exactly in the kind of discomfort one might imagine for late-stage labor. So, I dunno.  "5 or 6?"  Nope.  I was 8cm.  M. and I are shocked.  Wow.  Game on. 

Then S. returned.  I can't wait to tell her my progress.  The doula arrived. I can't wait to tell her either. The antibiotics were administered.  I was free to walk about the room.  I didn't want to .  I wanted to stay where I was; I especially liked the feeling of the back of the bed upright and flush against my back.  And I liked the distraction of conversation and stories among those of us in the room. 

I shared A.'s birth story.  I shared the birth story of friend K. who had a dramatic, unintentional car-birth just weeks prior. We looked at pictures of A.  We took a vote: boy or girl?  The room was split.   The midwife, S., and M. voted boy; Jennifer Garner, doula K. and I voted girl.  Midwife K. sized up my belly:  "this baby will be smaller than A.  Maybe 7lbs," she says.  Jennifer Garner asked me obligatory questions including this one:  "Have you recently felt like physically harming anyone?"  We laugh.  "Um, yes.  The Chinese-food delivery guy."

I still have this annoying go-to-the-bathroom feeling. Honestly, it's miserable.  It's more noticeable and irritating than the pressure waves.  And the pressure waves. They're not that bad.  I ask midwife K. if she's putting me on.  Am I really 8cm?  Me:  "This doesn't seem so bad."  Midwife:  "It'll get worse.  You'll get to the point where you can't get comfortable."  Me, thinking:  Uh-oh.  Stay calm. Stay calm.  Uh-oh.  STAY CALM.  I then let the name "Jack" run through my mind.  It's the secret word M. and I have chosen to mean that "yes, I'm done with this.  Give. Me. An. Epidural."  And when the name runs through my mind I think, "no, I've got a lot left in me.  No need to say it."

Explanation:  my doula recommended that we come up with a secret name/word as a signal if and when I seriously wanted an epidural.  In her experience, plenty of women say, "I'm done.  Give me the epidural!" without actually meaning it.  Using my grandfather's name would mean I was positively serious about wanting pain relief. And why his name, you ask?  Well, first it would be an odd thing to say in the middle of labor, right?  But, really, it's because I admire him, and, like my grandmother, he inspires me. And two, I joked to M. that if my grandfather were in my shoes, he'd forego the pain meds.  He's tough like that.  And I never said his name.  I decided to be tough like that (and, to be clear, I had no complications or circumstances to help dictate otherwise; to be clear, I'm not against pain relief [I had an epidural with A.]. I just wanted to do this without it.)

I ask to stand up, to go to the bathroom.  Now I'm alone and I don't like it.  At all.  So I return to the room.  I look at the bed.  I feel shaky (mind you, at this point I've also been enduring a shaking left leg - the entire night.  It's weird and I can't seem to overcome it, no matter how much I relax).  I announce to S. and doula K. "I think I'm going to be sick."  But then I change my mind.  No.  I won't get sick.  Midwife K. places my birthing ball next to the bed and suggests on sit on it.  No.  I suddenly hate the birthing ball.  I hate it.  I ask my midwife:  "May I lay on the bed."  Midwife, picking up on some signs from me:  "Sure, absolutely."

I lay on the bed.  And suddenly midwife K. is suited up.  I mean, suited up as if to deliver a baby.  But I've birthed one before and I don't feel like it's time to deliver the baby. I mean, I don't have that "pushy" feeling.  But what do I know? Midwife K. signals to Jennifer Garner.  She then turns to me and lets me know that I'm fully dilated.  Only one hitch:  my water hasn't broken.  She can break it and everything will happen faster, but labor will become more intense.  

Wait with less intensity or get it over with?  Why wait.  Let's break the water.  Let's get this baby out. Fast.  Because now I'm feeling really uncomfortable.  Really kind of bleck.  I lock eyes with K. and say, "break the water."  And then I seek assurances from everyone in the room that I won't have to wait long for the baby.  

Midwife K. asks me if I would like a mirror so I can witness this miracle.  To my own shock now, I say yes. I want every bit of assurance that this baby is coming and out and a mirror won't lie.  Water is broken.  I enjoy a brief break . . . total peace, no pressure waves.  Nothing.  It's like a moment of silence.  And then . . . I really want this baby to arrive.  I'm not liking how I feel now.  Midwife K. tells me "that's just the baby coming down."  Then, push once.  Push twice.  Maybe a third push?  Then, at 2:09AM and less than two hours after arriving at VHC, welcome baby Driscoll!

Midwife K. raised the baby for all to see (though I have no visual memory of this) and M. announced "it's a girl!" Yayayayay!  A. has a sister! (I later cry to M. in my post-delivery hormonal state, "maybe they'll be in each other's weddings! Sniff, sniff, sniff!") Everyone comments on how big the baby girl is.  M. cuts the umbilical cord.  S., as she's been doing most of the night, wipes away tears (I'm so happy - and still can't believe - S. is here for all of this! She was, after all, my inspiration for a natural birth, having delivered her two beauties naturally).  I'm handed baby D. and I get to hold and feed her for the first lovely hour. M. calls my mom to share the news; we don't yet have a name to share.  I say to M., "she looks like an E-name."  He suggests Emma.  He also comes up with Caroline.  Done.  Emma Caroline.  It suits her perfectly.

She is then wrapped in a blanket.  Warmed. Weighed (8lbs 12oz).  Measured (21.5").  And Photographed.

And I'm happy as a clam.  I did it.  I stayed calm.  I went boneless.  I let the process go without my own interference.  And I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to have E. naturally.  But I'm also grateful that if I needed assistance or if there was an emergency that I'm in the awesome hands of midwife K. and at this capable hospital.  And I'm ready to take pictures.  Yes!  I'm standing, smiling, walking just moments after E. is born.  Crazy!

And that, my super-duper patient friends, is the unnecessarily long and protracted, albeit happy story of E.'s arrival.  Thank you, thank you, thank you for indulging me and for reading E.'s birth story. We are happy and extremely thankful that it went as well as it did.  In HB, mamas-to-be are asked to visualize what they hope for their birthing experience on the basis that "what you believe shall come to pass." While I certainly made every attempt to visualize a safe, healthy birth, I never would have allowed myself to visualize this great experience.  It went too well and was more than I could have hoped for (but isn't every birth?  The end - that perfect baby - always makes whatever birth story the perfect story! I feel this way about A.'s birth, which was a total rollercoaster ride - wild, crazy, but totally perfect, too). And for this experience, in which so many pieces fell so nicely into place, I'm eternally thankful, especially - because whatever the birth story - we have a healthy baby and A. has a sister, our Miss E.

Comments

[mellissa]

Great story "Quorie"! HA! Seems like such a calm experience.....you natural birthing woman! WooT! I have one question, if I may. I feel the pushing not the contractions. Did you find hypnobirthing to help with that? Or is it just the nature of the beast that that is so intense? So curious.

[Emily]

Way to go girly!! I smiled when i read how crabby you were.:) I can relate, although i needed a c-section to get my fellas evacuated from my uterus. I was the worst during John's birth. I was so mean. 1. i told the nurse that i did not think John was as cute as Jack when they first showed him to me. 2. at one point during my c-section the nurse asked me if i wanted a little sedative after the baby was out....That's how NASTY is was being (and i was numb from the chest down. I was feeling no pain)!!

So, in my opinion, if you go med. free, you have the right to be as grouchy as you want. It's okay that you hated that ball.:)

I can not wait for the day the "A" is in "E's" wedding.....or "E" is in "A's" wedding!
Thanks for sharing your story. I loved reading it.

[corie]

thank you, thank you ladies! emily - i'm glad i'm not the only grouchy one. when audrey was born my first - seriously, my FIRST - reaction was "where are her eyebrows?!" and while i felt physically great during my pregnancy with emma, i was way grouchy - like, the entire pregnancy!

mellissa - so, here's my theory. i think the mirror worked as an anesthetic during the pushing. i so wanted emma to arrive and to know that she was indeed arriving (i wanted to shout "just get this baby outta me!") that i was totally focused on the mirror and that kinda made me not feel anything. i hated it when she was moving down and if it would've taken longer, i may have found it worse. and, honestly, once pushing starting, hypnobirthing was done for me. at the very end, i stopped hypnobirthing because i couldn't even breath deeply enough, let alone completely release (this wasn't so bad, though, since i knew the end was near). but maybe the hypnobirthing preserved enough of my energy to make it easier at the end? that could be the case. does that make sense??

[mellissa]

HaHAHA! I just re-read my comment and Iaw that I wrote that I don't "feel" contractions! HA! I was supposed to write "fear." That was very rude of me.....I do feel contractions, I don't fear them. Okay, now that we have that all cleared up and I am no longer the non-human, THANK YOU for your insights on hypnobirthing! Your comment made a lot of sense. I am really scared of the mirror though. For some reason I think it would freak me out to see what I was really going through.
Just my opinion, but I think one has the right to be crabby when another human has invaded one's body.....especially for a longer stay than is full term......all of my babies were that sassy to hang around days and weeks longer than expected.