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Nearly four months later, I’m still working to process her birth and all that came after. I was diagnosed with post-partum depression early and stopped nursing around 7 weeks. However, I am the mother of a happy, healthy, brilliant little girl who delights and surprises me everyday. Her birth certainly didn’t go as planned, but what does? All I know is that I am healing, I’m in love, and I’m learning to be her mama one day at a time, shedding all of my expectations as I go.
I met my daughter, Asa Iris, on September 2, 2012. I felt my first painful contractions at 2:30am on my due date, August 31. These were different from the Braxton-Hicks contractions I’d been having and didn’t stop after two long walks, so I knew it was probably early labor. I sent my partner, Cameron, to work and all that day I labored at home, napping, cooking, even doing a load of laundry; my contractions were intense but inconsistent.
Finally, at about 8pm, I called my doula Claire in frustration. I explained what I was feeling, that my contractions were seriously painful but not coming at regular intervals. Some were 9 minutes apart, some were 3 minutes apart. She encouraged me to call the midwife on-call at the hospital I’d deliver at to see if I could come in for a progress check. My original plan was to labor at home until I just couldn’t handle it anymore, but the inconsistency of my contractions was starting to bother me. I went in around 10pm when Cameron got off work, and told myself that if I’d dilated beyond 5cm, I’d go ahead and check in.
When we arrived, I found out I had only dilated to 3cm, so I decided to return home, about a mile from the hospital. However, the midwife offered to give me my first dose of penicillin (I tested GBS+ and would need penicillin every 4 hours until I delivered) before heading home. That way, I could labor at home with Cameron and Claire then return in 4 hours for the next dose and another progress check. I thought that would give me a bit of time to progress further and decided to go for it. However, by the time I got back home at midnight, my contractions had intensified so much that I couldn’t sit or lie between them. I felt all of the pain in my lower back and pelvis, with so much pressure on my cervix and rectum that all I could do was walk or stand. It was just excruciating.
Claire joined us at home and tried to help me find relief, but nothing we did helped. I couldn’t sit in the tub because of the painful pressure, and standing in the shower was no good either--there wasn’t enough room to pace. Applying counter-pressure to my lower back required me to stand still, but I couldn’t. I walked back and forth around the house as the contractions started coming in waves; by the time we went back to the hospital at 4am, I knew I’d be checking in.. All I could do at home was pace, and the very short car ride was intolerable, so I figured the hospital was as good as anywhere. The midwife checked me, and I was barely at 4cm. I was disappointed, but knew that I was officially in “active” labor at that point.
We sent Claire home to rest and I resumed my pacing routine in the delivery room for several more hours. She rejoined us around 11am and continued to offer moral support, gently encouraging me to continue trying the relief methods we’d discussed before labor--they still weren’t helping. At this point, I’d been on my feet with back to back contractions for nearly 12 hours with no rest. I was miserable and, around 2pm, I finally asked the midwife to check me again. I was at 5cm.
When I envisioned my ideal labor scenario, I wasn’t opposed to pain medication, but I wanted to try to give birth without it. I wanted as few interventions as possible. After 36 hours of labor and about 15 hours of almost intolerable contractions, though, I was ready to talk relief. I requested nubain, a narcotic administered through an IV, and fell asleep almost immediately. When I woke up several hours later, I was told that my contractions had slowed during the nap. The midwife wanted to discuss either breaking my water or giving me pitocin to help labor along, but I decided to walk the halls with Cameron and Claire to get things going again on my own.
When I first woke up, I felt more focused and energetic than ever, but I began to crash and feel like I couldn’t go on after several hours. My contractions were intensifying again, and the pain was nearly more than I could bear. After I threw up and uncontrollably peed on the delivery room floor (yep!), I called for the midwife for another cervical check; I was at 6cm. I’d been sure I was in transition so when she told me that I’d only gained 1 centimeter after 9 hours, I lost it. I felt sick and wanted it to be over. I asked her to break my water, and she suggested a therapeutic epidural. I knew my contractions would get even worse when she broke my water, so I decided to go for it.
After the anesthesiologist placed the catheter and the epidural was administered, the midwife broke my water and I slept off and on for nearly 7 hours. My contractions apparently slowed again in the night, so I was also given a small dose of pitocin at one point as well. When I woke up around 7am, I was at 9cm! Finally, I thought the end was in sight.
It only took an hour to reach 10cm and start pushing, so I started to get excited. Cameron and I would meet our baby soon! We hadn’t learned her sex and had requested that no one announce it. I reminded the midwife and nurses that we wanted to find out the sex on our own, then hunkered down to push. Although I’d received an epidural, I had considerable control over my legs, so my midwife and Claire coached me in several different positions. For over 3 hours, I pushed on my back, my sides, on my hands and knees, and even in a supported squat. I was calm and focused, and the time passed quickly. Finally, the midwife called a physician who also worked in the practice and asked her to watch me for a few pushes. My perineum was apparently very thin and the baby wasn’t crowning. She was sunny side up and stuck on my pelvic bone. Awesome.
Because of my stretched-to-the limit perineum and the position of the baby’s head, the physician thought I’d tear to my rectum if I was able to deliver the head--she didn’t tell me what she thought would happen if I delivered the shoulders. She asked us to consider a cesarean delivery. Before labor, I couldn’t imagine considering a c-section, but at this point, I was ready to be finished and meet my baby. A c-section sounded great, and I knew that with the support of my amazing team, I’d tried everything to deliver vaginally.
At about 11:45am, I was wheeled to the cesarean delivery room and joined by Cameron. He held my hand as I shook uncontrollably from the anesthesia. Within moments, I realized that I could feel the incision so I was quickly placed under general anesthesia. I didn’t wake up for almost 7 hours. Well, that’s not entirely true. I woke up shortly after the delivery, but I couldn’t move or talk. The muscle relaxer used with the anesthesia left me paralyzed because my body lacks the enzyme required to metabolize it quickly. The only solution in that scenario was to intubate me and put me back under general anesthesia until the muscle relaxer wore off. This was the hardest part of my daughter’s birth for me to process. While Cameron tried to bond with his new daughter, he also had to worry about the fact that I wasn’t waking up from surgery. My family was a wreck, and my daughter was in this new world without her mama. Even now, the thought of it devastates me.
When I finally met her around 6:30pm on her birthday, I didn’t know that she was a she. In fact, Cameron and the nursing staff were the only ones who knew! He refused to disclose her sex to our families, since that was something we wanted to learn together. Once I was taken from the surgery recovery room to the mother/baby unit, we spent our first moments together as a family of three and I asked him the baby’s name. When he told me the name we’d chosen for a daughter, I started to cry. She was my Asa Iris! Giving me that moment is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I’m so grateful to Cameron for keeping her sex a secret.
Finally, at about 8pm, I called my doula Claire in frustration. I explained what I was feeling, that my contractions were seriously painful but not coming at regular intervals. Some were 9 minutes apart, some were 3 minutes apart. She encouraged me to call the midwife on-call at the hospital I’d deliver at to see if I could come in for a progress check. My original plan was to labor at home until I just couldn’t handle it anymore, but the inconsistency of my contractions was starting to bother me. I went in around 10pm when Cameron got off work, and told myself that if I’d dilated beyond 5cm, I’d go ahead and check in.
When we arrived, I found out I had only dilated to 3cm, so I decided to return home, about a mile from the hospital. However, the midwife offered to give me my first dose of penicillin (I tested GBS+ and would need penicillin every 4 hours until I delivered) before heading home. That way, I could labor at home with Cameron and Claire then return in 4 hours for the next dose and another progress check. I thought that would give me a bit of time to progress further and decided to go for it. However, by the time I got back home at midnight, my contractions had intensified so much that I couldn’t sit or lie between them. I felt all of the pain in my lower back and pelvis, with so much pressure on my cervix and rectum that all I could do was walk or stand. It was just excruciating.
Claire joined us at home and tried to help me find relief, but nothing we did helped. I couldn’t sit in the tub because of the painful pressure, and standing in the shower was no good either--there wasn’t enough room to pace. Applying counter-pressure to my lower back required me to stand still, but I couldn’t. I walked back and forth around the house as the contractions started coming in waves; by the time we went back to the hospital at 4am, I knew I’d be checking in.. All I could do at home was pace, and the very short car ride was intolerable, so I figured the hospital was as good as anywhere. The midwife checked me, and I was barely at 4cm. I was disappointed, but knew that I was officially in “active” labor at that point.
We sent Claire home to rest and I resumed my pacing routine in the delivery room for several more hours. She rejoined us around 11am and continued to offer moral support, gently encouraging me to continue trying the relief methods we’d discussed before labor--they still weren’t helping. At this point, I’d been on my feet with back to back contractions for nearly 12 hours with no rest. I was miserable and, around 2pm, I finally asked the midwife to check me again. I was at 5cm.
When I envisioned my ideal labor scenario, I wasn’t opposed to pain medication, but I wanted to try to give birth without it. I wanted as few interventions as possible. After 36 hours of labor and about 15 hours of almost intolerable contractions, though, I was ready to talk relief. I requested nubain, a narcotic administered through an IV, and fell asleep almost immediately. When I woke up several hours later, I was told that my contractions had slowed during the nap. The midwife wanted to discuss either breaking my water or giving me pitocin to help labor along, but I decided to walk the halls with Cameron and Claire to get things going again on my own.
When I first woke up, I felt more focused and energetic than ever, but I began to crash and feel like I couldn’t go on after several hours. My contractions were intensifying again, and the pain was nearly more than I could bear. After I threw up and uncontrollably peed on the delivery room floor (yep!), I called for the midwife for another cervical check; I was at 6cm. I’d been sure I was in transition so when she told me that I’d only gained 1 centimeter after 9 hours, I lost it. I felt sick and wanted it to be over. I asked her to break my water, and she suggested a therapeutic epidural. I knew my contractions would get even worse when she broke my water, so I decided to go for it.
After the anesthesiologist placed the catheter and the epidural was administered, the midwife broke my water and I slept off and on for nearly 7 hours. My contractions apparently slowed again in the night, so I was also given a small dose of pitocin at one point as well. When I woke up around 7am, I was at 9cm! Finally, I thought the end was in sight.
It only took an hour to reach 10cm and start pushing, so I started to get excited. Cameron and I would meet our baby soon! We hadn’t learned her sex and had requested that no one announce it. I reminded the midwife and nurses that we wanted to find out the sex on our own, then hunkered down to push. Although I’d received an epidural, I had considerable control over my legs, so my midwife and Claire coached me in several different positions. For over 3 hours, I pushed on my back, my sides, on my hands and knees, and even in a supported squat. I was calm and focused, and the time passed quickly. Finally, the midwife called a physician who also worked in the practice and asked her to watch me for a few pushes. My perineum was apparently very thin and the baby wasn’t crowning. She was sunny side up and stuck on my pelvic bone. Awesome.
Because of my stretched-to-the limit perineum and the position of the baby’s head, the physician thought I’d tear to my rectum if I was able to deliver the head--she didn’t tell me what she thought would happen if I delivered the shoulders. She asked us to consider a cesarean delivery. Before labor, I couldn’t imagine considering a c-section, but at this point, I was ready to be finished and meet my baby. A c-section sounded great, and I knew that with the support of my amazing team, I’d tried everything to deliver vaginally.
At about 11:45am, I was wheeled to the cesarean delivery room and joined by Cameron. He held my hand as I shook uncontrollably from the anesthesia. Within moments, I realized that I could feel the incision so I was quickly placed under general anesthesia. I didn’t wake up for almost 7 hours. Well, that’s not entirely true. I woke up shortly after the delivery, but I couldn’t move or talk. The muscle relaxer used with the anesthesia left me paralyzed because my body lacks the enzyme required to metabolize it quickly. The only solution in that scenario was to intubate me and put me back under general anesthesia until the muscle relaxer wore off. This was the hardest part of my daughter’s birth for me to process. While Cameron tried to bond with his new daughter, he also had to worry about the fact that I wasn’t waking up from surgery. My family was a wreck, and my daughter was in this new world without her mama. Even now, the thought of it devastates me.
When I finally met her around 6:30pm on her birthday, I didn’t know that she was a she. In fact, Cameron and the nursing staff were the only ones who knew! He refused to disclose her sex to our families, since that was something we wanted to learn together. Once I was taken from the surgery recovery room to the mother/baby unit, we spent our first moments together as a family of three and I asked him the baby’s name. When he told me the name we’d chosen for a daughter, I started to cry. She was my Asa Iris! Giving me that moment is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I’m so grateful to Cameron for keeping her sex a secret.
Nearly four months later, I’m still working to process her birth and all that came after. I was diagnosed with post-partum depression early and stopped nursing around 7 weeks. However, I am the mother of a happy, healthy, brilliant little girl who delights and surprises me everyday. Her birth certainly didn’t go as planned, but what does? All I know is that I am healing, I’m in love, and I’m learning to be her mama one day at a time, shedding all of my expectations as I go.
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