Hank's Birth Story
As many first-time moms can relate, I wasn't sure what to expect when giving birth to our first baby. I had heard many stories, both good and bad, that I had no way to predict what birth was really going to be like. I had also known from the very beginning of my pregnancy that I wanted to have a drug-free labor and delivery. This added a little extra preparation on my part and admittedly, little extra anxiety.
To prepare for birth, I was adamant about hiring a doula. I had heard from many people how valuable they can be, especially in a labor without medications. In addition to hiring a doula, we took a Childbirth Education Class through her company that was also geared towards drug-free deliveries. I saved many birth affirmations and read those frequently, and read many natural birth stories.
Hank's birth story starts out like many do: with contractions. Only at this point in my pregnancy I was so uncomfortable and ready to be done with it and meet my sweet boy that I didn't quite believe that these contractions were "the real thing".
After weeks of hourly bathroom breaks, sometimes twice-weekly doctor appointments, back pain and baby feet that seemed to always be lodged right within my rib cage--I opened these contractions with open arms because it meant that I was one step closer to meeting my baby. Before I get into this too far, let me back up a few days and touch on our time leading up to Hank's birthday.
38 Weeks--It's a beautiful October morning. My husband is deer hunting about 4 hours north of where we live, and my OB is on a trip with his family. Cue the panic when I wake up thinking that my water may have broken (gotta love the innocence and ignorance that comes with first-pregnancies). Of course, I immediately Google my symptoms, call both my mother and husband and say to them both, "I think my water may have broken, but I'm not entirely sure". A quick call to the Labor & Delivery triage nurse who indicates that I should come in and be seen, just to make sure. I call my husband back and told him to hold off on coming home, but to be ready "just in case". I head in to the hospital and think to myself This may be it! I may be meeting my baby soon. Wait...this can't be. I am not having a single contraction. This is too easy! After being admitted, a little bit of monitoring and a few tests to see whether or not my water broke the on-call OB provider told me that my water did not in fact break. I remember calling both my mom and Jack back and admitting that I was fairly certain that I had peed my pants and mistaken it for a breaking bag of waters. How embarrassing! It was also pointed out during that hospital visit that my blood pressure was elevated which required a little more testing and monitoring. I promised to follow-up with my provider when he got back in the office on Monday.
38 Weeks, 2 Days--Feeling defeated that my elevated blood pressure despite trying so hard to take great care of myself during my pregnancy, I went in for a Biophysical Profile Ultrasound and a visit with my OB provider. Everything looked great on the ultrasound. The ultrasound tech estimated baby to be 9 lbs, 5 oz but said that these measurements aren't super accurate, and can be up to a pound off in either direction. Wait, what if my baby is over 10 lbs!? My doctor said that due to my gestational hypertension, he wasn't very comfortable letting the pregnancy go on much past 39 weeks gestation, and an induction was brought up. I prayed and prayed that Hank would come on his own (after all, I was dilated to a "2"--that has to mean something right!?). I also requested a membrane sweep to see if that would help kick-start things. After that was completed, I was out the door with an appointment set up to see him at the end of the week with a possible induction to follow.
That evening, I went to dinner with a friend and felt some cramping and mild low back pain during the meal. I figured it was irritation from the membrane sweep and ignored it. Going to bed that night, I told my husband that the cramps were not really letting up but that I highly doubted I was in labor. I truly thought that it labor contractions would feel different than regular cramping, so again, I wrote it off as uterine irritation from the membrane sweep.
38 Weeks, 3 Days--Besides waking up a few times to go to the bathroom (as per usual with a baby head resting against my bladder), I had slept okay but the cramping was still consistent. Finally believing this to be the "real thing", I called into work and decided to stay home for the day and officially start my maternity leave. My husband Jack had a few things to finish up at work, so he headed into the office and promised that his phone would be close-by. I spent the better part of the morning doing what I do best--cleaning and organizing. I put fresh sheets on our bed, made sure the floors were spotless and I scrubbed the bathrooms. I made sure all of our laundry was squared away and that our bags were packed for the hospital. I ate some light snacks, and tried to drink plenty of water, all while feeling the persistent tightening in my lower belly. I wish I could say that I took my doula's advice of not timing the pressure waves, but my Type-A personality shone through (as it typically does)--they were coming irregularly and every 5-9 minutes. Around 1pm, when the house was clean and things felt ready, there was a shift in intensity in the contractions and they were getting more difficult to ignore. I called Jack, who promptly came home. We still had to drop our two dogs off at the boarding facility. He offered to run them quick while I stayed home, but I, welcoming to a distraction, went along with. Once our dogs were squared away at their home for the next couple of days, it popped in my head that the Mega Millions Lottery was at a record-high of $1.6 billion dollars. Neither Jack or I are gamblers in any sense of the word, but I figured it was worth a shot--after all, it has to be a lucky day if we were going to meet our son! Jack offered to run inside to get my lottery ticket, but I was stubborn and wanted my fate to be in my own hands. We waited in the vehicle until a contraction finished, and ran in to the convenience store to buy our ticket.
After returning home, things continued to intensify and my contractions were consistently happening every 5-6 minutes. We looped our doula and birth photographer in on the progression of things. I quickly lost my appetite and spent the next couple hours rotating between my birthing ball and bathtub. I was desperate for some distraction, so my mom brought over a stack of magazines which I was so thankful for. I think I had combed through each of my social media apps at least 10 times over by this point and needed something else to read between contractions. Around 6pm that evening, my contractions were getting stronger and more painful in my lower back, and were happening every 4 minutes consistently. Wanting to avoid any pain medications in labor, I vowed to stay home as long as possible. I also didn't want to end up in the news for delivering my baby on the side of the road, so finding that delicate balance was key for me. We called Steph, our doula, who offered to come join us at our home and help us determine when we should leave for the hospital as well as offer support through my contractions. In the time that she gathered her things and drove to the house, my contractions started coming every 2-3 minutes.
Steph arrived at our house around 7pm and she suggested that we head to the hospital sooner rather than later. Jack loaded everything in the vehicle and we left a little while later, calling on our way in to let the triage nurse know that we were coming. It was a rough ride to the hospital, as I hated having to sit in my seat during each contraction. Every little bump on the road felt so uncomfortable and the impeding arrival of the baby felt more real than ever. Am I ready to be a mom? Will Jack be a good dad? What if the baby hates us? What if I don't love my baby? What if I can't breastfeed him like I would like to? What if I have to have a C-section? What if something goes horribly wrong and one of us has a life-threatening complication? These thoughts went away as quickly as they came, but had landed in my mind none-the-less.
After we arrived to the hospital, Jack dropped me off at the entrance where Steph and another doula, Nichole were waiting to help bring me inside. He parked my Jeep and brought my luggage inside (yes...I was one of those people who shows up with not one but two suitcases of things that I was insistent on needing. Yes, I brought a curling iron. Hell no, I did not use it). While checking in, I had a massive contraction that damn-near brought me to my knees. A nurse's aid came to the check-in desk and offered me a wheelchair. I declined, wanting only to walk, move, and feel like I was doing something. After arriving on the birthing center unit, checking in and getting my arm bands for identification, I was told to step on the scale. Let me just tell you, that the LAST thing you want to do when you are almost 10 months pregnant and feeling like a whale is to step on a stupid scale. Being the nice, non-confrontational Minnesota girl that I am, I of course stepped on the damn scale all-while being thankful that the numbers were in kilograms (because that seems so much lighter).
In my irrational labor-mind, I made the mistake of thinking that now that I had arrived at the hospital, my baby would somehow know that we were where we needed to be and just pop himself right out. HA! On the contrary. Labor continued and my contractions marched on with force.
I did consent to cervical checks but requested that the nurse not tell me what I was dilated to. Steph had told me that I was free to do what I wanted, but that some women find that knowing what they are dilated to can be a bit of a let-down when having a drug-free labor (after the fact, I found out that I was at a 4 upon admission. A FOUR. As in, SIX entire centimeters away from pushing. I am SO glad I didn't know that at the time. I would've burst into tears and asked for an XL epidural...or a horse-sized dose of tranquilizer).
The next few hours were a blur to me. I remember feeling exhausted and just wishing that I could do something to make the contractions go away, just for an hour so I could sleep. I was making bargains with God in my head, if you let this baby come in the next hour, I promise to go to church every single Sunday and will definitely start volunteering. It didn't work. Each contraction came and went and the pressure in my lower back was so intense that Steph, Nichole or Jack would perform a double hip squeeze through each wave to make it bearable.
After another cervical check, I kept looking for cues from the nursing staff that I was dilated to 10 cm, just praying they would turn on the baby warmer or call my doctor. And nothing. (It turns out at this point I was dilated to 6 cm., but had no idea. Again, I'm so glad I didn't know).
I reached out to Steph & Nichole for a plan of action. Something that I can do. They suggested a walk in the hallway or a shower. As little energy that I had, the shower did sound amazing, and I was looking forward to the chance to get the vomit out of my hair.
38 Weeks, 4 Days--While I was in the shower, Steph recommended squatting through each contraction. This felt great to be moving and it felt good to do something among moments that I felt quite helpless. After about an hour and a half in the shower, I suddenly felt a different kind of pressure and an urge to push. For some reason it didn't register in my head to tell somebody that I was pushing. All of a sudden I felt a POP. I felt immediate relief in my lower back. Jack was in the bathroom with me and I remember shouting to Steph, "I think my water just broke! I was pushing and I felt a 'pop'. I think it finally broke!". She said something along the lines of, "Wait, you were pushing in there? I think it's time to get out of the shower."
Jack helped dry me off and together we went back into the room, ready to meet our baby more than ever. My nurse had checked my cervix again (keep in mind that I still didn't know what I was dilated to) and I went to the bathroom shortly after. When I came back out, the baby warmer was turned on and the squat bar that I had requested was attached to the hospital bed. I saw the sterile field at the end of the bed with all of the provider's tools on it. I remember asking my nurse if I was finally dilated to 10 cm. She nodded and smiled. I was so excited. I also remember looking at Jack and saying "We can do this. We've got this!" I felt so energized and ready to go.
As I said, I had felt that in the shower and then again when I was back in bed. I tried pushing a few times on my back and felt that it wasn't doing too much for me. I was grateful for the squat bar as that was much more comfortable.
My doctor came in the room and I was so thankful to see him. He wasn't on call the night I delivered so the fact that he came in, in the middle of the night while he wasn't scheduled to be in meant so much to Jack and I.
Each wave that came, I pushed. I felt such an uncontrollable urge to push that I couldn't stop. I cannot begin to tell you the fear that I felt in this moment, feeling birth for the first time. At the same time, I have never felt more empowered or strong in my entire life. I felt like freaking Superwoman. Feeling my baby descend down the birth canal was like nothing I could have ever imagined and it's so hard to put into words.
I think I pushed for maybe 10 or 15 minutes total. I remember feeling a burning sensation during this time (the "ring of fire" is a real thing, people). Once his head was out, his body quickly followed with a light push.
In this moment, I remember thinking to myself: Is he mine? Is this the same baby that I have fell head over heels in love with over the last 9 months, my tiny little companion nestled within me? Is he real? Can I touch him? It was a moment of wonderment and shock.
I leaned back and quickly pulled him close to me.
In that moment I became a mother for the first time. The last 30 hours that I had spent in labor quickly faded from my memory and I only cared about one person, and it was no longer myself.
On October 24th, 2018 at 1:56am, our sweet Hank Joseph was finally here.
I felt big and awkward holding this tiny, wet human. I held him close with everything I had and never wanted to let go. It's so funny how someone can be such a stranger yet so familiar at the same time.
I was snapped back to reality when my doctor gently reminded me that I needed to push to birth my placenta. I gave one final push and out it came. They waited to clamp the cord until it had stopped pulsating, and cleaned Hank off and assessed him on my chest. I had retained placenta, as well as a second-degree tear. Again, my focus and care was towards the new life that had just entered the world, so as miserable as I was feeling at this point, my energy was focused on learning how to feed and care for my little one.
To prepare for birth, I was adamant about hiring a doula. I had heard from many people how valuable they can be, especially in a labor without medications. In addition to hiring a doula, we took a Childbirth Education Class through her company that was also geared towards drug-free deliveries. I saved many birth affirmations and read those frequently, and read many natural birth stories.
Hank's birth story starts out like many do: with contractions. Only at this point in my pregnancy I was so uncomfortable and ready to be done with it and meet my sweet boy that I didn't quite believe that these contractions were "the real thing".
After weeks of hourly bathroom breaks, sometimes twice-weekly doctor appointments, back pain and baby feet that seemed to always be lodged right within my rib cage--I opened these contractions with open arms because it meant that I was one step closer to meeting my baby. Before I get into this too far, let me back up a few days and touch on our time leading up to Hank's birthday.
38 Weeks--It's a beautiful October morning. My husband is deer hunting about 4 hours north of where we live, and my OB is on a trip with his family. Cue the panic when I wake up thinking that my water may have broken (gotta love the innocence and ignorance that comes with first-pregnancies). Of course, I immediately Google my symptoms, call both my mother and husband and say to them both, "I think my water may have broken, but I'm not entirely sure". A quick call to the Labor & Delivery triage nurse who indicates that I should come in and be seen, just to make sure. I call my husband back and told him to hold off on coming home, but to be ready "just in case". I head in to the hospital and think to myself This may be it! I may be meeting my baby soon. Wait...this can't be. I am not having a single contraction. This is too easy! After being admitted, a little bit of monitoring and a few tests to see whether or not my water broke the on-call OB provider told me that my water did not in fact break. I remember calling both my mom and Jack back and admitting that I was fairly certain that I had peed my pants and mistaken it for a breaking bag of waters. How embarrassing! It was also pointed out during that hospital visit that my blood pressure was elevated which required a little more testing and monitoring. I promised to follow-up with my provider when he got back in the office on Monday.
38 Weeks, 2 Days--Feeling defeated that my elevated blood pressure despite trying so hard to take great care of myself during my pregnancy, I went in for a Biophysical Profile Ultrasound and a visit with my OB provider. Everything looked great on the ultrasound. The ultrasound tech estimated baby to be 9 lbs, 5 oz but said that these measurements aren't super accurate, and can be up to a pound off in either direction. Wait, what if my baby is over 10 lbs!? My doctor said that due to my gestational hypertension, he wasn't very comfortable letting the pregnancy go on much past 39 weeks gestation, and an induction was brought up. I prayed and prayed that Hank would come on his own (after all, I was dilated to a "2"--that has to mean something right!?). I also requested a membrane sweep to see if that would help kick-start things. After that was completed, I was out the door with an appointment set up to see him at the end of the week with a possible induction to follow.
That evening, I went to dinner with a friend and felt some cramping and mild low back pain during the meal. I figured it was irritation from the membrane sweep and ignored it. Going to bed that night, I told my husband that the cramps were not really letting up but that I highly doubted I was in labor. I truly thought that it labor contractions would feel different than regular cramping, so again, I wrote it off as uterine irritation from the membrane sweep.
38 Weeks, 3 Days--Besides waking up a few times to go to the bathroom (as per usual with a baby head resting against my bladder), I had slept okay but the cramping was still consistent. Finally believing this to be the "real thing", I called into work and decided to stay home for the day and officially start my maternity leave. My husband Jack had a few things to finish up at work, so he headed into the office and promised that his phone would be close-by. I spent the better part of the morning doing what I do best--cleaning and organizing. I put fresh sheets on our bed, made sure the floors were spotless and I scrubbed the bathrooms. I made sure all of our laundry was squared away and that our bags were packed for the hospital. I ate some light snacks, and tried to drink plenty of water, all while feeling the persistent tightening in my lower belly. I wish I could say that I took my doula's advice of not timing the pressure waves, but my Type-A personality shone through (as it typically does)--they were coming irregularly and every 5-9 minutes. Around 1pm, when the house was clean and things felt ready, there was a shift in intensity in the contractions and they were getting more difficult to ignore. I called Jack, who promptly came home. We still had to drop our two dogs off at the boarding facility. He offered to run them quick while I stayed home, but I, welcoming to a distraction, went along with. Once our dogs were squared away at their home for the next couple of days, it popped in my head that the Mega Millions Lottery was at a record-high of $1.6 billion dollars. Neither Jack or I are gamblers in any sense of the word, but I figured it was worth a shot--after all, it has to be a lucky day if we were going to meet our son! Jack offered to run inside to get my lottery ticket, but I was stubborn and wanted my fate to be in my own hands. We waited in the vehicle until a contraction finished, and ran in to the convenience store to buy our ticket.
After returning home, things continued to intensify and my contractions were consistently happening every 5-6 minutes. We looped our doula and birth photographer in on the progression of things. I quickly lost my appetite and spent the next couple hours rotating between my birthing ball and bathtub. I was desperate for some distraction, so my mom brought over a stack of magazines which I was so thankful for. I think I had combed through each of my social media apps at least 10 times over by this point and needed something else to read between contractions. Around 6pm that evening, my contractions were getting stronger and more painful in my lower back, and were happening every 4 minutes consistently. Wanting to avoid any pain medications in labor, I vowed to stay home as long as possible. I also didn't want to end up in the news for delivering my baby on the side of the road, so finding that delicate balance was key for me. We called Steph, our doula, who offered to come join us at our home and help us determine when we should leave for the hospital as well as offer support through my contractions. In the time that she gathered her things and drove to the house, my contractions started coming every 2-3 minutes.
Steph arrived at our house around 7pm and she suggested that we head to the hospital sooner rather than later. Jack loaded everything in the vehicle and we left a little while later, calling on our way in to let the triage nurse know that we were coming. It was a rough ride to the hospital, as I hated having to sit in my seat during each contraction. Every little bump on the road felt so uncomfortable and the impeding arrival of the baby felt more real than ever. Am I ready to be a mom? Will Jack be a good dad? What if the baby hates us? What if I don't love my baby? What if I can't breastfeed him like I would like to? What if I have to have a C-section? What if something goes horribly wrong and one of us has a life-threatening complication? These thoughts went away as quickly as they came, but had landed in my mind none-the-less.
After we arrived to the hospital, Jack dropped me off at the entrance where Steph and another doula, Nichole were waiting to help bring me inside. He parked my Jeep and brought my luggage inside (yes...I was one of those people who shows up with not one but two suitcases of things that I was insistent on needing. Yes, I brought a curling iron. Hell no, I did not use it). While checking in, I had a massive contraction that damn-near brought me to my knees. A nurse's aid came to the check-in desk and offered me a wheelchair. I declined, wanting only to walk, move, and feel like I was doing something. After arriving on the birthing center unit, checking in and getting my arm bands for identification, I was told to step on the scale. Let me just tell you, that the LAST thing you want to do when you are almost 10 months pregnant and feeling like a whale is to step on a stupid scale. Being the nice, non-confrontational Minnesota girl that I am, I of course stepped on the damn scale all-while being thankful that the numbers were in kilograms (because that seems so much lighter).
In my irrational labor-mind, I made the mistake of thinking that now that I had arrived at the hospital, my baby would somehow know that we were where we needed to be and just pop himself right out. HA! On the contrary. Labor continued and my contractions marched on with force.
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These hip squeezes were my saving grace. |
The next few hours were a blur to me. I remember feeling exhausted and just wishing that I could do something to make the contractions go away, just for an hour so I could sleep. I was making bargains with God in my head, if you let this baby come in the next hour, I promise to go to church every single Sunday and will definitely start volunteering. It didn't work. Each contraction came and went and the pressure in my lower back was so intense that Steph, Nichole or Jack would perform a double hip squeeze through each wave to make it bearable.
The pain in my lower back was intensifying as my energy was dwindling down. Every smell was bothersome and whatever lunch I had earlier than day came up in reverse. I remember laying on my side, not wanting to move or do much of anything. I had no idea where anyone was in the room, had no idea what time it was, or much of anything that was going on around me. I was truly in my own "Labor Land". After awhile, I remember the contractions grew again in intensity and I was verbalizing defeat. "I can't do this anymore, I can't do it. I just can't."
I reached out to Steph & Nichole for a plan of action. Something that I can do. They suggested a walk in the hallway or a shower. As little energy that I had, the shower did sound amazing, and I was looking forward to the chance to get the vomit out of my hair.
38 Weeks, 4 Days--While I was in the shower, Steph recommended squatting through each contraction. This felt great to be moving and it felt good to do something among moments that I felt quite helpless. After about an hour and a half in the shower, I suddenly felt a different kind of pressure and an urge to push. For some reason it didn't register in my head to tell somebody that I was pushing. All of a sudden I felt a POP. I felt immediate relief in my lower back. Jack was in the bathroom with me and I remember shouting to Steph, "I think my water just broke! I was pushing and I felt a 'pop'. I think it finally broke!". She said something along the lines of, "Wait, you were pushing in there? I think it's time to get out of the shower."
Jack helped dry me off and together we went back into the room, ready to meet our baby more than ever. My nurse had checked my cervix again (keep in mind that I still didn't know what I was dilated to) and I went to the bathroom shortly after. When I came back out, the baby warmer was turned on and the squat bar that I had requested was attached to the hospital bed. I saw the sterile field at the end of the bed with all of the provider's tools on it. I remember asking my nurse if I was finally dilated to 10 cm. She nodded and smiled. I was so excited. I also remember looking at Jack and saying "We can do this. We've got this!" I felt so energized and ready to go.
Feeling the "urge" to push was something that I didn't understand until it happened during my labor.
My doctor came in the room and I was so thankful to see him. He wasn't on call the night I delivered so the fact that he came in, in the middle of the night while he wasn't scheduled to be in meant so much to Jack and I.
Each wave that came, I pushed. I felt such an uncontrollable urge to push that I couldn't stop. I cannot begin to tell you the fear that I felt in this moment, feeling birth for the first time. At the same time, I have never felt more empowered or strong in my entire life. I felt like freaking Superwoman. Feeling my baby descend down the birth canal was like nothing I could have ever imagined and it's so hard to put into words.
I think I pushed for maybe 10 or 15 minutes total. I remember feeling a burning sensation during this time (the "ring of fire" is a real thing, people). Once his head was out, his body quickly followed with a light push.
In this moment, I remember thinking to myself: Is he mine? Is this the same baby that I have fell head over heels in love with over the last 9 months, my tiny little companion nestled within me? Is he real? Can I touch him? It was a moment of wonderment and shock.
I leaned back and quickly pulled him close to me.
In that moment I became a mother for the first time. The last 30 hours that I had spent in labor quickly faded from my memory and I only cared about one person, and it was no longer myself.
On October 24th, 2018 at 1:56am, our sweet Hank Joseph was finally here.
I felt big and awkward holding this tiny, wet human. I held him close with everything I had and never wanted to let go. It's so funny how someone can be such a stranger yet so familiar at the same time.
I was snapped back to reality when my doctor gently reminded me that I needed to push to birth my placenta. I gave one final push and out it came. They waited to clamp the cord until it had stopped pulsating, and cleaned Hank off and assessed him on my chest. I had retained placenta, as well as a second-degree tear. Again, my focus and care was towards the new life that had just entered the world, so as miserable as I was feeling at this point, my energy was focused on learning how to feed and care for my little one.
Shortly after getting Hank weighed and measured (8 lbs, 3 oz and 21 inches long), we headed to our new room as a family of three. We spent the next couple days resting, nursing and enjoying visits with Hank's grandparents (our parents).
Oh, and remember that lottery ticket that I had purchased while I was in labor? Well, I didn't have any winning numbers, but I think it's safe to say I hit the jackpot that day. :)
A couple of my "take-aways" if you will, especially for those wanting to try birth without pain medications. 1) Ignorance is bliss. I'm very thankful that I didn't know what I was dilated to, or I know for a fact I would've gotten "in my head" about the process. 2) Support is everything! No matter what kind of birth plan you have, it made a huge difference to have both my husband and the doulas there for me. Whether it's a significant other, a family member, or friend--I highly recommend having someone there to offer support! 3) Limit visitors. This can sound harsh, and we love our family and friends SO much, but after such a long couple of days we were all exhausted. I was also figuring out how to breastfeed and Hank was adjusting to life on the "outside". We did have a few visitors, our immediate family, while in the hospital but we had everyone check in before coming and everyone was respectful to keeping the visits short and sweet. Once we got home, we made sure to space visitors out and kept a nice balance. 4) There is no wrong way to have a baby, as long as baby gets out and he/she and momma are both safe and healthy. No two women have the same needs and what works great for some may not be the best choice for others. Don't let anybody judge your decisions!
Also, those first few weeks postpartum can be rough. You're adjusting to life as a parent as much as your baby is adjusting to life outside of the womb. Everything is new and scary for both of you. Lean on people for support. Allow yourself to rest. Allow yourself mistakes and forgiveness. And know that you are everything you baby needs and more. You are momma for a reason, and you've got this.
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