38 Weeks - A short labor, long story.

 

I figure since I took the photo, I might as well add it to the belly collection. I was totally unsuspecting at the time the above photo was taken, but this would be as far as this pregnancy would go. Here is the scene early the next morning, at 38 weeks, one day.  

This may be too graphic for some, but I think it is so amazing to have this photo of the very first moment I laid eyes on my son. You’ll just have to avert your eyes if you can’t take it. I think it is AMAZING!

Here is how things went down.

Throughout my pregnancy I worried about how fast my labor would go. My labor with Scarlett was only 6 hours long. For those who are not familiar with how long labor usually takes for a first pregnancy, 6 hours is considered very fast. Even though I’d been cautioned by many people to not count on it going the way it did with Scarlett, my gut told me that things were going to go down even faster this time.

The closer I got to my due date, the more my head filled with images of going into a labor that would progress so fast I would have no choice but to go it alone at home in my bathtub.  In my worst case scenario fantasies, Rolph would be away, for some reason unreachable by phone, traffic would be gridlocked preventing my doula or anyone else from reaching me.  I would have only Scarlett to assist me.  I imagined myself between contractions trying to gently urge my little 2 year old to "please go get mommy some towels".  I wondered how I would keep the dog from lapping up the afterbirth when all was said and done.  I realize this scenario sounds a little extreme, but it happened - the bathtub part at least - to my friend Heather in Brooklyn.

So, on what turned out to be one night before I went into labor, I did what any sensible woman with internet access would do - I spent 2 hours Googling “unassisted, unplanned home birth”. Depending on your temperament this kind of internet research could either ease or heighten your fears.  For me it had a calming effect.  My inner boy scout felt sufficiently prepared.  By the end of my search session I felt confident that I could birth this baby myself if it came down to it - I’ve got farm roots after all. Not wishing to overburden Scarlett when the time came, I resolved to put “gather towels” on my to do list for the next day. I felt good about at least having a plan B in place.

The thing is, I really wanted to make it to the hospital. I am not opposed to home birth. Not at all. In fact, if it were covered by our insurance I would have been all for it. Its the “unplanned” part that bothered me. I like things to go according to plan, and my plan was to birth this baby in the hospital, wearing my carefully chosen labor outfit , with the assistance of a midwife, Rolph, my mom, and my doula. Rolph’s mom lives about 10 minutes from us and would come over to be with Scarlett. It seemed to me that it would be best if all this happened in the middle of the night when everyone would surely be easily reachable since they would be at home in bed. The middle of the night plan would also eliminate traffic as an obstacle. This was my plan.  Cue the theme song from Mission Impossible.

Anyhow, the next day came and went, marking 38 weeks gestation exactly. I did not get around to gathering the towels, but as it turns out that would not be necessary. As I went to bed that night around 11 o’clock, the last thing I said to Rolph was, “Well, one more day of gestating under my belt. Good night.” I had no clue that in 3 and a half hours later my labor would commence with the force and speed of a bullet train.

I was roused from a deep sleep with an awareness of a gripping sensation in my belly and groin. My eyes focussed on the clock. 2:24 AM. I breathed loudly. The sensation passed. Five minutes elapsed and it happened again. I breathed a little louder, but did not get up. Five more minutes passed - another contaction bagan. This time I breathed loud enough to awaken Rolph (he’s a pretty deep sleeper). At that point I decided to get up. I told Rolph that I had had three contractions in a row and I was going to go drink a glass of water and see if they went away because apparently that works for some people.   Some people have contractions for a bit and then they stop. Some people labor through gradually intensifying contractions for hours that turn into days before things really get going.  I am not one of those people.  My labors seem to begin at the end, going from "Hmmm...was that a contraction?" to "OH MY GOD!" in the space of fifteen minutes.   By the time I reached the kitchen in search of a glass of water, another contraction, the kind that said "get your ass to the hospital, woman",  swelled within me. I don't know if it was gravity that did it or just the act of moving that cranked up the volume, but this contraction meant business. As the pressure surged, I stooped over, gripping the kitchen counter for support to ride it out. At that moment I knew it was really happening. No glass of water was going to lull my cervix back to sleep.  Labor was officially ON. I went back upstairs and instructed Rolph to start making the calls beginning with his mom - we needed to get going. I started timing the contractions more closely using the Labor Mate App - Yes. There is an App for that - on my iphone (thanks, Melissa!)

It was now 2:45 (20 minutes into my labor) and for the next 20 minutes I would experience intense contractions 3 or 4 minutes apart. I had been told by several doulas and midwives that getting down on all fours was a good position for slowing labor, so you better believe I was dropping to the ground like a felled beast with each contraction. I knew I needed all the time I could get. I tried to use my time between contractions to gather up the last few items for my hospital bag and get dressed. Its not easy to get much done though when you are dropping to your hands and knees every 3 minutes groaning and panting. At some point during that time, Rolph’s mom arrived and I remember being impressed with her speed. I also remember feeling that I should try to tone down the groaning and panting for her benefit, but I’m not sure that I was very successful. We finally made it down to the garage and as Rolph opened the car door for me I suddenly wished that I could just stay put and deliver this baby home-style after all. It would be a shame not to put all that google knowledge to use, and I DID NOT want to get in to that car. I expressed this in some form to Rolph, but he just said “uh-huh” in the same tone of voice he uses to patronize Scarlett when she makes some absurd demand. As Rolph nudged me toward the car, I accepted that I had to get in, but I was not about to sit. No way. I reclined the seat back as far as it would go and rode to the hospital with my butt in the air pointed toward the windshield, and my arms hugging the headrest. Loud moaning and panting ensued...It was about 3:30 at this point, 1 hour into my labor.

The hospital is only about 7 miles from our house, but in the 12 to 15 minutes it took us to get there things amped up quickly. I’m pretty sure I began to go into transition (the crazy-train stage right before you begin pushing the baby out) during the car ride. My groaning morphed into loud, low MOOOing and my body temperature spiked. It was a cold night and I was not wearing a jacket, since I had decided my jacket would make a good tarp to cover the seat in case my water broke and a baby came gushing out with it. Despite the chilly conditions, I felt as if I were on fire and demanded that Rolph roll down the windows. I'm sure we were quite a sight on the roadway. A Volvo speeding through the dark, cold night with a barely clothed woman facing the wrong way in her seat, head hung out the window MOOing.   But that is how we rolled into the ER unloading area.

With Rolph's help, I somehow managed to lurch into the ER waiting area before collapsing onto all fours to MOOO my way through another contraction. It must have been a slow night in the ER because I only remember seeing one little old couple sitting in the corner of the room. I briefly wondered how weird it must be to watch me in this state. I felt like a caricature of a laboring woman - like something you would see in a movie except I was not acting or exaggerating and there was no script. When the contraction passed I figured I had about 30 seconds to make some more progress into the ER lobby.  I lurched forward again and clung to the security guard’s desk. Rolph told me that the guard had already called for a nurse to come and get me, and though I’m sure she arrived quickly it seemed to be taking a long time. I wanted to know what direction she was coming from so that we could start making our way to meet her. As we began to move away from the desk the guard began to hassle Rolph about moving the car from the loading area to the parking garage. As the ramifications of this registered with me I wanted to scream, “You Idiot! Have you not noticed that he is with ME? The sweaty pregnant lady crawling on the floor MOOOING?” Instead I just gasped “NO!” and dropped to the floor for another round contracting.

Thankfully, it was just then that the nurse arrived to find me on all fours in front of the vending machines. I could not see her because I was too busy making bovine noises with my eyes squeezed shut, but I remember her kind but surprised tone of voice as she said, “Well, hello there.” She sounded as if she had just stumbled unsuspectingly upon a wounded but harmless animal in the forest.  She would later tell me that ordinarily when security calls for them to come and retrieve a laboring woman, they send a nursing assistant. But when she heard me MOOing in the background, she decided it was best that she come and get me herself. She had experience delivering babies in the elevator, and she thought it sounded like I might be heading down that road.

Her name was Robin (I love you, Robin) and she asked me if I wanted to walk or ride in the wheel chair. Once again, the thought of sitting on anything was so abhorrent, I chose to walk. This turned out to not be a very efficient way to get any where in a hurry since my contractions were coming so fast that I had to drop to the ground every 30 seconds to get through them. As we made our way through the hallway to the elevator, Robin had to reassure at least three concerned ER doctors that, despite the fact that my situation was obviously the very definition of emergent, everything was under control. I had no concept of time at this point, but it must have taken us forever to make any progress.  With each contraction I assumed the MOOing position on the floor, and when it passed I would struggle to my feet, and with Robin on one arm and Rolph on the other I would spat out, "OK. GO!" as if I were calling the start of a fifty yard dash.  Except instead of dashing, we were shuffling - slooowwwlly shuffling - for 30 seconds until the next contraction hit and I took to the floor once again.  

We finally got on the elevator and when the door opened on the maternity floor, Robin managed to gently convince me to get in the wheel chair for the final leg of our journey.  Have I made it clear yet how very little interest I had in sitting?  I did not want to sit. Absolutely nothing in my body wanted to cooperate in any sort of sitting, but even I knew that we did not have the 20 minutes it was going to take me to walk down the hall to my room. I got on the chair, but you could not call what I did sitting.  With a nod to all my prenatal yoga (thanks Blooma!), I struck a modified side plank/bridge pose, resting slightly on one hip, back arched, holding most of my weight off the chair with my arms.  And off we went!

As we whizzed past the nurses station I heard the midwife ask, “how far apart?” (referring to my contractions) and Robin reply breezily over the rising sounds of my mooing, “oh, they’re pretty much constant”.  We cruised into my room and I was up and out of the chair peeling off clothes as fast as I could until I was down to just my bra and labor skirt. The midwife did a quick check of my cervix and confirmed that I was almost completely dilated with only a thin rim of cervix left. We made it.  Then everyone basically just sat back and waited for me to have the urge to push.

I decided to wait for “the urge” in the bathroom. I had felt the same magnetic pull toward the toilet during my labor with Scarlett, so I went with the same strategy this time. The bathroom was cool, dark, and small like a little birthing cave, and once I took up residence in there things began to feel a bit calmer. The contractions were intense and constant, but I felt totally in control, and was able to focus on doing what I needed to do to get through them.  We realized at that point that all of my bags were still in the car, including the cord blood collection kit and the camera (I really wanted photos). My mom had just arrived, so I told Rolph to HURRY to the car to get them. He crossed paths with Angie, my doula who had also just arrived, on his way out of the room, so I felt like I could spare him for a few minutes. It was now about 4:15 - 1 hour and 45 minutes into my labor.

Rolph must have sprinted to the car and back because he returned before I even realized he was gone, and we all rode out the final moments of my labor together. There was not a lot of room in my bathroom cum birthing cave, so people rotated in and out for the next 10 minutes or so. My mom came in and held a cool cloth to my forehead. Angie rubbed my back and offered words of encouragement. And Rolph complied, albeit with some skepticism, with my request to document the whole thing with our camera. All this went on as I writhed and squated in the dark bathroom, hanging from the vertical grab bar like a most unsexy, mooing pole dancer.

Then it happened. The unmistakable “urge”. When you feel the urge it’s time to have a baby. There is no mistaking it. Not wanting me to deliver the baby into the toilet, the midwife coaxed me from my cave. I asked her where she wanted me to go, and she replied calmly, "where do you want to go?"  Wordlessly I crawled up on to the bed, and since all fours had served me so well throughout labor, I went with that position for the final push as well. With my face buried in a pillow, I felt completely focussed and calm, yet intensely physically challenged.  Pain is an inadequate and misleading word to describe the sensations of giving birth.  Labor and pushing is indescribable and unparalleled in its intensity, yet it feels like what should be happening - I mean you are, after all, pushing a baby through your vagina.  That being said, it is definitely not something you want to have to go through for very long.  I distinctly remember thinking as I MOOed louder than ever into the pillow, “I am ready for this to be OVER”.

My amniotic sac was still in tact even with the baby's head bearing down, and the midwife suggested that we make a small tear to help us get that baby in my arms sooner. The alternative was to wait a bit longer to let the pressure of the baby do the work of rupturing the membrane, or it was possible that I could deliver the baby in the sac. Yeah that's right, IN THE SAC. Sac or no sac, I could see no reason to wait ANY longer, so I gave her the go ahead to break my water. As the midwife went about rupturing the membrane I heard her say, “Wow. You have a really tough sac!”. Ummm...thanks?

The time was now 4:28 am, 2 hours and 4 minutes into my labor. The warm fluid rushed out, and I heard myself growl deeply and loudly like no animal I have ever heard, as I pushed through the final contractions. I was One. Tough. Sac. As my baby began to crown, the midwife encouraged me to reach down and feel his head. It was not that I did not want to, I simply could not get my arms to work. All my mental and physical energy was focussed on pushing that boy out. As I felt his body emerge with the final push, the midwife told me to come up onto my knees and pull the baby up to me.This time I was able to comply, and that is when I met my son for the first time.

It was a completely perfect moment. Perfect. Rolph was at my side and I just started babbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you...” over and over again. There cannot possibly be a greater high than the Oxytocin Cocktail your brain serves up after giving birth.  This is going to sound weird, but I actually exclaimed at the height of my post-birth euphoria, “I love having babies!” And I do. I LOVE having babies, but mostly I love you, Rudy baby.

Welcome, Rudolph Hamma Blythe IV, 6 lb 14 oz. 19 and a half inches. Born March 29, 2009 at 4:35 AM at St. Joseph’s Hospital (barely)

Comments

[Lacey Brooker]

Hi- found connection to your site on Blooma's. Loved your story! :) ...and your baby boy is absolutely beautiful!!

[Jen]

Wow, I think I just read the birth story of my 2nd son - Jude. He was born in just under 1 hour 45 minutes and reading your beautiful story is like reading our day. Woke up and had 3 contractions in 15 minutes - told my husband to call my mom to come and watch our older son, raced to the hospital while lying on my side, parked at ER (the ER attendant told my husband to leave the car in the no parking area though or he'd miss the birth), was raced up in a wheelchair (while trying not to sit down)by a nurse, was told I was 10cm and pushed our beautiful baby out. When we called our family to tell them he was born they thought we were calling with an update that we had made it to the hospital and had checked in - not that he was already here. I was on a high all day and when my husband wanted to sleep after the birth all I wanted to do was talk and look at our new baby! Thanks so much for your story!

[Bruna]

I can only say ONE word now: BRILLIANT! :D

[Stephanie]

Just found this story from a link from the Design Mom blog. This has to be the best birth story I've ever read. You seriously had me laughing out loud with tears in my eyes! Your description of dropping to the floor repeatedly left a lasting visual! What a wonderful entry into this world on his own terms. A belated congratulations to your family!

[Michelle]

I absolutely love this story!!! It had me laughing and smiling all the way through. Thanks so much for sharing!! Would you mind if we posted it on our birth stories blog (birthstories.co.nz) with a link back to your blog?
Thanks
Michelle