Disclaimer: If you have struggled with infertility or have had miscarriages, I recognize these posts may trigger you. Please protect your peace. Also, if you are currently pregnant, please consider if you want to read. Through my pregnancy I stayed away from birth stories, as I did not want to read anything that would scare me. Use your best judgement. My story is not scary, but still, every woman is so different. You and I will not have the exact same experience.
I became a mother three days ago and have found my mind is constantly running with thoughts that I want to capture. I want to remember every moment, every detail, every thought. It's such a whirlwind, nothing could have prepared me for what I've felt over the last week. I tracked my birth story in my Notes app and decided I was going to share it. So here we go.
My due date was 11/29/2021. Very early on in the month of November, I begnan to have Braxton Hicks contractions, occasional cramping, and fairly intense pelvic pain. I was dilated to 1 at 38 weeks. All signs pointed to- I could go into labor early.
Boy, was I wrong.
I had an appointment on my due date. The doctor whom I saw that day did a membrane sweep, and said her nurses would work with the hospital to schedule an induction date.
The very next day, I began to have contractions 20-40 minutes apart. They were painful, but not unbearable. They were similar to bad period cramps, and had me wincing. I also had a nonstress test this day. Good news? Myself and the baby were healthy. Bad ish news? My contractions were not coming close enough together for them to send me to triage. I had a voicemail from the Dr's office that they had not yet had any luck scheduling my induction with the hospital. I went home, with several folks assuming I was pretty close to labor and may go in that evening.
At 1:30 AM on 12/1, I woke up with a bad contraction and never went back to sleep. I just continued to switch laying from one side to the other, still having contractions 20 minutes apart. By 4 am, the contractions got stronger. But still not close together. The general guidelines is to wait to go to the hospital until they are 5 minutes apart. I called the doctor who was on call at 5:30 in the morning. She advised I wait a few more hours to see if they get any closer. They did not. I was timing them until 9:15 am- in between walking, doing hip circles on my yoga ball, etc. So I called again, and let them know I wasn't making any progress. The nurse did not think I should go to the hospital yet. She believed I was having "pordomal labor", or false labor. Instead, she offered that I come into the office and get checked to see if I was any further dilated. We decided I'd come in at 10:30. At this point, I still had not received an induction date.
I was using a contraction timer app. It would go back and forth between "you should go to the hospital" and "you're having practice contractions". So it wasn't just me that was confused!
When I hung up the phone with the nurse, I burst into hysterical tears. I was so frustrated with my body for not doing it's job and progressing the way it should. I was tired and had been awake since 1:30 AM, it was now almost 10. I wanted an induction date and I wanted to know that this would be over soon.
At my appointment, I saw one of the midwives who made me feel a lit better. According to her, I was now dilated to a 3- that meant major progrss! But she was very concerned that I was not sleeping and encouraged me to go home and rest- and try to sleep, even in between the painful contractions. She performed a membrane sweep and sent me on my way.
Once home, I did sleep for about an hour and then was woken up by a horrible contraction. I tried to remember her advice and relax in between- but that sure is hard when you're anticipating the next one coming and wondering how quickly they will come. The pain got pretty bad, to the point where I felt I may vomit.
Soon my contractions came 10 minutes apart- and were super painful. So we headed to the hospital. Triage was full and we were in the waiting room for a solid few hours. During that time, I had several contractions. Most of them began in my back and wrapped their way around my body.
When I got to a triage bed, the nurse and midwife on duty checked me. i was NOT, in fact, dilated to a 3. I was still between a 1 and 2. They both said the position of the baby was still pretty high. The midwife sat on my bed with me while I cried. She empathized with me how much pain I was in, and said "you've been in labor for 24 hours. You're exhausted. We're going to admit you so that you can get rest, and then let's induce and get this baby out". I was so relieved. A plan! I was wheeled to a room where I was given some pain medication to manage my contractions- but those meds did not do much. I was groaning in pain. I turned to Tom and said "I cannot do this". I really could not imagine continuing to go through this pain, only to know it would get worse and that I still had to actually push a baby out.
While I was in bed, in pain, I started to think about it and get down on myself. I wondered if I am a weak person. Maybe if I had worked out more, my labor would not be progressing so slowly. Had I done something wrong? No matter my pain tolerance compared to others, I can assure you I would have never, ever grunted and screamed at people I did not know if I was not actually in that much pain. I would have been far too embarrassed. But it honestly did not phase me, all I could do was get through it best I could. What I learned in my very brief research is that this prolonged labor is fairly common for women, especially in their first pregnancy. But a lot of the time, the contractions come and go, or vary in intensity. Mine were somewhat intense, at regular intervals, for going on 48 hours.
Pretty soon, I began to throw up from how badly everything hurt. The nurse in my "rest" (resting did not happen) room checked me and said I was dilated enough to head to Labor and Delivery. Once I was there, I was given more pain meds- no epidural yet. I believe this was around 3 or 4 in the morning. I was in so much pain, I was sweating profusely and throwing up. At one point I was in the bathroom with the nurse and when I stood up from the toilet I just keeled over grabbing the wall and I told HER "I can't do this". I legitimately started to think I could not, in fact do this.
From here, things moved at a -whoa things changed fast- but still slow- mode. After i was given the epidural (aka the most magical potion on the planet), I was checked again and dilated to a SEVEN! Finally! Things were happening, I was so numb I couldn't feel contractions and we were moving!
This was about- oh- 7 am? Which was perfect timing- a friend of mine is a doctor at the OB/GYN office I go to and she just happened to be coming on call at... 7 AM!!! She was going to deliver my baby!
And still, there we sat waiting. Thankfully, while the waiting was hard and I didn't get much sleep with nurses coming in and out checking me, I was no longer in pain. Right after lunch time, my friend and now my doctor, Paula came in and with a quick *poke* she popped my water right open. I actually let out a snicker when that happened. She was so casual about it. "Oh, there it is." **Poke**.Then it was GO time! The nurses prepared me for what I would need to do to push this baby out.
I started pushing just before 2. Giving birth is one of the most incredible, strange events one can live through. I knew, that at the end of this pushing, a baby would be in my arms. A baby my husband and I created together. A baby that had been living inside me for 9 whole months. In between pushes, my doctor would tell me to break and it was SO WEIRD to just look up see all these faces and be like "okay cool. so what are you guys doing later?". I can legitimately tell you- pushing out the baby was not the hard part. At least, not for me. I know some women push for hours, and those who have not had an epidural would probably disagree with me. But me, I found it exhilarating. I even jokingly said "I'd do that any day of the week".
Okay back to my story. At 2:24 pm, my friend and doctor said "Megan, look down" and there was my baby. A baby boy. I grabbed him from her hands and immediately held him to my chest, just crying and looking over at Tom to tell him I loved him. My entire world changed at that minute. The love for this child was bursting out of every ounce of me. He was mine, and I was his. I waited anxiously for the nurses to finish weighing him, checking his vitals and cleaning him so that I could just hold him again. And I never wanted to let go.
I know- that was a long birth story. Because it was a long process. But one that was more than worth it.
I will end this by saying- I've had many doubts during my pregnancy about whether I can do this. And I still have them. But knowing what I just did- I am so beyond proud of myself. I am so strong and resilient. And I KNOW I can do this. It's not going to be easy. But it will be worth it.
Over the next few days, I'll be sharing some more thoughts on post partum, coming home for the first time, etc. I have a lot to say. I guess I am becoming a mommy blogger after all.
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