Gaia's Birth
The day before Gaia was born I had my last appointment with my ObGyn. Everything was good, except for my blood pressure, which, normally very low, had spiked since my last visit prompting him to finally insist I stop working. Anyone who knows me knows I hated being pregnant. I spent the first three months sleeping next to the toilet as my days became a blur. I was so sick I actually lost five pounds. When the sickness finally dissipated I spent the next six months growing at a rapid rate. I stopped sleeping and struggled every morning to turn my normal wardrobe into maternity gear.
By my last month I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t sit for more than five minutes without wanting to cry and standing wasn't much better. If I hadn’t been distracted by working every day at a job I loved I would have gone crazy. Work and prenatal yoga made me feel like a human being and not just a baby factory. Thank God. Still, my labour was awesome. If I had the choice I’d give birth over and over if it meant I’d never have to be pregnant again. Unfortunately the two go hand-in-hand. But I digress.
After a standard night of fitful pregnancy sleeping I woke up around 7:00am on Thursday, March 12th with what felt like mild cramps. I lied in bed for awhile trying to get back to sleep and noticing the cramps were coming at fairly regular intervals, about fifteen to twenty minutes apart. Since it was still ten days before my due date I was pretty sure the cramps were Braxton Hicks. I even managed to get a little excited about the thought of my body finally “practicing” for the arrival of Baby G. After about an hour had passed and I realised I wasn’t going to get back to sleep I got out of bed and set to work on the gigantic pre-baby checklist I’d made. I cleaned the house, washed baby clothes and finally opened the Pack n Play I’d bought for Gaia to sleep in. As the cramps continued I casually thought they might be the early stages of labour, but I was still relatively unconvinced. I even remember mentioning to my Dad that I might be in labour but not to worry about it since I was probably overreacting. All I kept thinking was if I was in labour I’d be in a lot more pain than this... wouldn’t I? At about 2:00pm I made a trip to Wal-Mart. I still find it amusing that my priorities lay with buying a door hanger so I could finally organise my scarves. By the time I got to Wal-Mart I found myself having to stop and focus on my breathing every five to ten minutes as the cramping got stronger. At this point you would think I’d realise what was going on, but no. I stopped at McDonald’s for a McNugget meal. Just a note to all pregnant women out there, if you have any inkling you might be in labour, don’t eat McDonald’s for lunch. In fact, I’d give it up about month seven, just to be on the safe side. Regurgitated nuggets swimming in a pink milkshake sauce are not what you want to see in the hours before your baby makes their entrance. Trust me.
I got home around 3:30pm and took a break from ‘nesting’ to talk to my husband on Skype. Not wanting to alarm him, since, and I can’t stress this enough, I was POSITIVE I wasn’t in labour, I didn’t mention anything about the cramps or the way that the tightening sensation had traveled to my lower back and was, if not painful, getting increasingly uncomfortable. By the time we said goodbye the cramping was much stronger and coming pretty regularly every five minutes or so. My plan was to have a bath and then finish the rest of my checklist and call it a night. By this point I think subconsciously I must have known what was going on. Consciously I was still in denial. I called Labour and Delivery at the General Hospital just to be on the safe side. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hi. So sorry to bother you. I’m 38 weeks pregnant and... ummm... how would I know if I was in labour?
Then I hung up. I assume the nurse thought I was a nutcase. Now, I feel I should explain something here. I was a huge hypochondriac when I was a child. I pitched a fit over even the smallest scratch. As such, as an adult I’ve developed a pretty stiff upper lip when it comes to instances of medical need. My worst pregnancy nightmare would be arriving at the hospital only to be sent home for thinking indigestion was advanced labour. Oh the shame. Still, I think I might have taken my fear of judgment it too far. By the time I called my doula at 5:30pm, I was having trouble standing and walking and I finally admitted to myself that maybe I should start packing my hospital bag. My doula and I played the same phone game I’d played with the Labour and Birth nurse, although she seemed far less convinced by my attempts at being nonchalant. After calling me every ten minutes to check-in, I finally agreed to track my contractions with an online tracker. After a half hour I was finally coming around to the idea that contractions less than three minutes apart and lasting about a minute might actually be labour... maybe. At 6:30pm I called my Dad. Anyone who knows me and my Dad can imagine how the next fifteen minutes went.
Me: Um... Dad... can you help me pack my bag? I think I might be in labour.
We carried on like this for awhile. We were like the blind leading the blind. Eventually he packed my bag for me while I sat on the toilet leaking what I can only assume was amniotic fluid and periodically throwing up into my garbage can. I kid you not, I was still sure I was overreacting and I’d be sent home once we got to the hospital. Now, for those of you who don’t know, I prepped for the labour with Hypnobirthing classes taught by Marie Berwald. The basic idea behind Hypnobirthing is that our bodies are made to give birth and that painful, stressful births are a product of fear which causes you to work against your body. The point is to learn to trust your body, and your baby, and relax through the birth process by practicing self-hypnosis. The goal is a healthy, natural (ie. drug-free), pain-free birth. Initially I was a sceptic but the classes made sense to me so I thought I’d give it a go. I completely credit Hypnobirthing with my calmness throughout the day and through the birth that was to come. The erratic screaming and mass panic of movie births had no place in my day and I managed to get through each contraction, even in the latest stages, by quietly and calmly focusing on my breath and my body. If you’re pregnant and looking to have a natural birth I highly recommend you look into it.
We got to the hospital at about 7:00pm and I finally made it up to Labour and Delivery by 7:30pm. My doula met me there and we waited at the door to be officially admitted. My nurse, an absolutely amazing woman named Linda, went over my admitting sheet with me and I gave her my prenatal records and carefully thought out birth plan. Then she led me to a bed in the assessment room. At this point I’d told my Dad not to bother parking since “I’ll only be a minute” so he quietly milled around the waiting room, assuming I’d be right back out to let him know if I was staying or not. After a quick pee-in-a-cup I stripped down and hopped up on the bed where Linda checked me and calmly announced I was fully dilated. All I could think was that maybe I missed it when my water broke. And then my water broke. Trust me... you’ll know when it happens. Frankly it’s almost comical. I felt like I should push pretty much immediately so I focussed on my breathing and bore down. In the walk from assessment to my delivery room I periodically stopped mid stride to squat and push. This was probably the first indication that all privacy and poise goes out the window in labour.
By the time I got onto the bed it was close to 9:00pm. Linda started monitoring the baby’s heart rate which was extremely low. Throughout the pregnancy it had been consistently around one hundred and fifty... during labour it was closer to fifty. I should have been worried but I wasn’t. By this point I really felt like me and the baby were a team and I swear I knew we’d be OK. Linda called in a resident to get an internal heart rate monitor in place (which is not in the least bit as uncomfortable as you’d think) and calmly told me I had to push, as hard as I could, as fast as I could, to get the baby out as quickly as possible. I briefly thought about how contrary to Hypnobirthing philosophy her instructions were, I think I even said “no pushing, I’m just going to bear down and let my body birth my baby” but frankly, I’m a do-er and pushing felt right. So I did it. I tried with every bit of my being to keep breathing while I pushed, which worked about half the time, and before I knew it my doctor had arrived and I was crowning.
Just a note on childbirth... I have what I would consider a regular threshold for pain and there was no point where I felt like I couldn’t handle it. If anything I was exhausted (punctuated by the moment I declared “I’m too tired, I can’t do it anymore” and was promptly told that wasn’t an option). Labour is absolutely hard work, but pain isn’t the right word for it at all. I don’t judge anyone who’s had an epidural or plans to and I feel like everyone is completely entitled to be proud of whatever birth experience they have. I’m just saying if you’re pregnant and interested in a natural birth it is one hundred percent possible. Exhaustion? Yes! Pressure? Absolutely! Pain? Not so much. Oh but if you’re one of those people who’s in labour for days get an epidural and get some sleep. Seriously. Moving on...
Once the doctor announced I was crowning I gave one strong push and the head was out. The mystery of her low heart rate was solved when he announced the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck and asked if he could cut it before we continued (I had made a huge deal about wanting delayed cord clamping/cutting but in this case I feel medical need dictated otherwise). Focusing on holding the baby halfway between world and womb while the cord was cut was not entirely desirable but before I knew it I was being told I could finish the job and with one final, monster push Gaia came into the world. It was 9:30pm. Because she had been in distress I wasn’t able to hold her immediately after birth. Luckily the nurse from the NICU unit came to the delivery room so I could watch as they checked her vitals and made sure she was breathing regularly. I watched her as I delivered the placenta (which made me think of jellyfish) and stitched me up (I had some minor tearing, probably due to the rate at which I pushed her out). About ten minutes after she was born I finally got to hold her. The speed of the delivery caused me to go into shock, so I was wrapped in warm blankets and if you ask me that was the perfect way to spend my first moments with Gaia. Warm, with my new baby on my chest and distantly reminded of the days when I used to come home from swimming lessons to be wrapped in towels fresh from the dryer by my Mom.
My doula, who was amazing through the entire experience and who I could not have done it without, snuck out to tell my Dad what had happened. Presumably he was still waiting to see if he should go park the car. Somewhere in the hour and a half I was in active labour my Mom and brother had also arrived and they all came to the delivery room to meet Gaia. As soon as I could I called Jose, who was asleep, and told him about the baby. Needless to say he was shocked (maybe I should have given him some indication when we were chatting in the afternoon, but when you’re pregnant and your husband has no option to be with you, you do what you can not to worry him).
Before I knew it I was wheeled to the Mom and Baby unit. I said goodbye to my entourage, made a few more phone calls and spent the night with Gaia beside me, too much in awe of her sleeping face to get much sleep myself. The next morning Jose called me to tell me about a dream he’d had. “Baby,” he said “I had a dream that you had our little chanchita last night... so maybe she is coming soon?” I laughed as I told him it was real. That's what I get for trying to tell him news that big while he was sleeping. Then I told him about her perfect face... perfect eyes... perfect little feet that looked just like his. Two months later I think Jose had it right. Sometimes I feel like it was a dream. One morning I woke up pregnant and the next morning I woke up next to Gaia. The time in between is just details.
Written by Risa Payant, May 2009
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