It was coming closer to my due date. My doctor had informed me a few weeks before I was due that he probably wouldn’t be delivering me. He was going to be in the Turks and Caicos with his family, and even if he was in town it could be one of 30 doctors who would deliver me. Why did I travel through blizzards over an hour drive all winter to see him? I had felt comfortable our energy meshed and he would be able to handle me in the delivery room; plus he was rated one of the top doctors in Ottawa. After finding out I would be sharing a room with up to 6 other women giving birth over an hour’s drive away, I decided I would have my baby at my small country hospital a ten minute drive from home. There I would get my own private room for free, and I wouldn’t have the stress of making it to the hospital in time.
On Thursday, St. Patties Day, I slid on the step of my porch stairs and bounced down to the bottom. My husband was frantic since he watched the whole thing go down. He advised me to rest in bed for an hour and not do a thing. Later that day I had a check up; the baby was fine. It was 6 days before my due date, and I was only dilated 1 cm. Needless to say I was bummed out. My friend told me I probably would go over my due date. I didn’t have that feeling where I just wanted the baby out because I was so uncomfortable, I liked the fact bun bun was still cooking, but I was ready to get the labor over with. I didn’t take lamaze class or watch videos on delivery; that would just send me into an anxiety attack. Instead, I mentally prepared myself I can do this and I strengthened myself at the gym with hip opener exercises and squats. My bags were packed since week 37. I just wondered when the baby would come. Would it be a messy show in public? My husband insisted I have someone drive me to the hospital if he wasn’t around, no way should I be behind the wheel in labor. Well like most things in life, things don’t go the way you plan.
By Friday I thought, what the hell? Why not help speed things up or atleast attempt to. I took one capsule of Evening Primerose in the afternoon and inserted one capsule internally. I read it could help induce labor.
I had yet to even have braxton hicks or the start of contractions, and I didn’t know what to expect. At 3 am I woke up to what felt like a little liquid in my panties. It was nothing major, just a little wet. I had light pregnancy cramps, but they were barely noticable. I told my husband something’s weird. He just rolled over groggily and continued to sleep. He is used to my hypocondriac worries. At 5 am I woke up to check and go to the bathroom. I was still a little wet, but nothing I would say was water breaking. Some internal force compelled me to shower and make a hearty breakfast before going to the hospital to check it out…just in case. When I told my husband at 8 am I was going to get it checked out, he happily sprawled out and took up the whole bed. There was no way I was in labor. So I drove myself to the hospital.
The nurse checked and said I was about 4 cm dilated and the liquid test swab she prepared didn’t confirm it was my water breaking, but she wanted to me to see the doctor anyways. He did a second test which confirmed, it was a slow leak of my water; I would have to have the baby that day, March 19th, just like my prediction. He said I could go home and gather my stuff, but I already had it. I hobbled across the street to the drugstore to stock up on snacks and gossip magazines to preoccupy my mind away from the pain. I phoned my husband and told him it was happening, but to take his time. It wasn’t like I was having the baby in the next hour, I didn’t even have contractions yet. I told him to come around noon after he showered and had some lunch. By the time, I made it to the check out line my contractions started at three minutes apart. Shit was getting real. I started breathing through the pain, as I patiently waited for a woman ahead of me to fill out her lotto tickets. She glared at me a few times when I breathed heavily before I told her, “Yeah, I’m in labor.” After waiting a few more moments, the old bitch let me go ahead of her.
When my husband arrived, the nurse let it slip what we were having a girl. I was beyond disappointed! I wanted it to be a happy surprise for my husband who had no clue his dream was coming true. He was in shock and estatic, but I was annoyed I had kept it a secret for months and the nurse just blew it in seconds. I had no idea what to expect during labor. In the movies the nurses and doctors talk you through everything. The nurse checked in on me every few hours. The magazines did fuck all for getting my mind off the pain. The contractions consistantly came every two to three minutes since they had started at 9 am. The sour patch kids helped a bit. Every time a contraction came I’d suck on them while bouncing on the ball. I couldn’t lay down or rest on all fours. I paced the room feeling like a rabid animal making noises, but to my surprise I didn’t cry. All I could do was moan and say, “No, no, no, no.”
My confused husband didn’t know what to do. He attempted some humor but it backfired. The nurse advised him to massage my back lightly. He pretended to do me doggy style, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Quit pretending to fuck me!” He was so embaressed. I lit some candles and went into the jacuzzi jet bathtub. That helped temporarily. My husband tried showing me Just For Laughs videos, but I couldn’t watch them; I was just trying to survive. I attempted the laughing gas by 3 pm. It’s no laughing joke, it didn’t do thing, but make me dizzy. By 4 pm, the nurse confirmed the hardest part was done. I was 8 cm dilated and I would be pushing by dinner time.
I thought of what I was going to order from my favorite local resturaunt. Steak and shrimp melted in butter. Garlic bread, rice, potatoes, a Greek salad, everything sounded so delicous. I had made it this far! I was having a natural birth and the baby would be in my arms in no time! At 6 pm the nurse frowned. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” she appologized. “You were never 8 cm dilated. You are at best just under 5. Your water isn’t fully broke. We need to rupture the water sac. It’s preventing the baby from coming out. You are only half way there.”
I wanted to die. Half way to the finish line? There was no way I could do this for another ten hours. I really didn’t want the epidural because I wanted to feel the pressure of the baby coming and push lightly, so I wouldn’t tear as bad. Plus I heard the epidrual could drug the baby a litte. I would feel like such a failure if I went with the epidural now; after all the pushing and pain I had already been through. My husband is into the natural approach, but he even agreed do what I feel was best. I held off on the epidural for two more hours until I couldn’t take the pain anymore.
Trying to keep still when during contractions coming every minute felt like it was next to impossible, but I made it through. My husband still won’t talk about the size of the needle that went into my spine. After I recieved the epidural I was able to relax and catch up on revitalizing my energy for the big push. The nurses switched shifts and I was lucky enough to get a caring older woman who was my beacon in the storm.
I was glad I chose the epidural because at 10 pm, I was still only 5 cm dilated hours after they ruptured my water. I told my husband to go eat some Mc Donalds around 11pm, the baby wasn’t coming anytime soon. Shortly after he arrived a half an hour later I asked the nurse to adjust my pillow under my hips. I felt something was off.
“Oh my God. She’s coming. The baby is here. Push girl! Push!”
I was in shock, so I didn’t push. What do you mean the baby is here? The doctor was delivering another woman, so the nurse was the one to guide me through the delivery.
“The baby is crowning on her own. She’s almost through. Push!”
My husband was in shock, but he heled motivate me. The baby was pushing herself out all on her own. I gave about three light pushes in the next five minutes and the baby was out. I was in complete shock. The nurse told me to pick up the baby for skin to skin contact. I just stared at it. Was it really over? I’m a mom now? In the movies they took the baby from you, cleaned it, and wrapped it up before giving it to the moms. I just stared frozen in shock until she screamed, “Pick up your baby!”
It felt surreal that I was finally holding my baby. I was thankful she came out healthy and perfect in every way. My new chapter was here, and everything I would do in the future would be for this beautiful little rainbow baby.
To my surprise my lady parts were not demolished. They weren’t swollen or bruised, and I only had a 1.5 degree tear that was stitched. My lady parts didn’t hurt, but I had pain for over a month from the catheter. Maybe it scratched or cut my insides, but I didn’t think it would ever feel normal again. It took me almost two months to control my bladder; every laugh would cause me to wet my pants. I lost 30 of the 40 pounds I gained within the first week. I owe it all to making healthy choices during pregnancy. I still have about 8 pounds to loose, but it is the last thing on my mind.
Argan oil on my belly during pregnancy and wearing a simple belly binder after assited in recovery.