IrishOboe

Warning:  This is a long post.  Here’s the short version: It was long.  It hurt. Joseph was born.  We’re very happy.

Just a few weeks is enough to start altering the memory, but here I will recall as best as I can the story of Joseph’s birth.

In the weeks leading up to the birth the baby occupied little of my mind.  I was frantically studying for the Goethe German C1 test that I’d failed to back out of in time and I thought I had at least a week after all my obligations were finished to focus on getting ready for Baby.  I’m very grateful now that I still made a point of getting enough rest each night despite studying so intensely.  Of course because I’d dropped everything to study my German, after the test I had to cram in practice for the harp piece I was playing for Cornelia’s wedding the day after the test finished.  We all had a lovely time at the wedding and thought we did well by leaving early and in time to get home by midnight.  I relaxed into bed thinking I could now finally take it easy and finish the preparations for the birth.  All the major stuff was done, but there were still plenty of nesting tasks I wanted to complete.

It was not to be.  At 4:30am I wasn’t sure if I’d released my bladder muscles a bit unintentionally or if my water had broken.  An hour later I was still experiencing strange trickles and at 6:00 a big gush of amniotic fluid confirmed my suspicions.  Having only gotten about four hours of sleep I thought the best thing was to get some more rest before labor really got started.  But who can sleep just before a big and exciting event?  I rested in bed and kept an eye on the slow moving clock and my deeply sleeping husband waiting for the right moment to break the news.  There is a discrepancy in how long I actually managed to wait before waking Stephan up, but it was somewhere around 7 or 7:30.  It felt much longer than that!

After letting the news sink in and filling our tummies with breakfast, we set about to putting our little apartment in order so there would be maximum space for labor and birth.  I was stunned that I was having my baby a full week early but I was comforted by the fact that it was a Sunday and we could inform the church that labor had started and we’d have everyone praying for us.  The midwife came in the morning to check me and I was nearly completely effaced and 2-3 cm dilated.  She left again, saying to call when the contractions were about 5 minutes apart.

After finishing the last minute preparations were complete there was nothing to do but wait for the contractions to become more frequent.  They my contractions were about 10 minutes apart for a number of hours so we had lots of time to go for a walk and relax.  I couldn’t get any sleep, though.  Foolishly I thought I’d have my baby in my arms that day or maybe I’d have tried harder to get some winks.  It was a beautiful sunny day that soon got warm, but we have some forested area nearby that was cool enough for an afternoon walk, which we took with my Alexander Technique teacher, who I had invited for the birth and who had graciously accepted.  I’m so glad she was there!  She really helped me relax in the earlier stages of labor.

Labor was slow to progress and we quickly reached the 12 hours-past-water-breaking point so we had to go into the midwife center to get antibiotics because I had tested positive for Strep B.  At the same time Christine (the midwife) hooked me up to the EFM (electronic fetal monitor) machine for 30 minutes to have a record of the contractions and the baby’s change in heart rate.  Contractions were painful but quite manageable at this point (about 4:30pm) but lying on my back for 30 minutes with to bands wrapped around me made me super glad I wasn’t giving birth in a hospital where they make you wear an EFM throughout labor.

I did have a little shock, however, when I discovered that the antibiotics were to be given not as a pill but intravenously.  She had some trouble sticking me but not as much as is often the case when people try to get my veins and I had to sit there about 20 minutes as the stuff slowly dripped into me.  Again, I was grateful that it was only for a brief time and that I wasn’t someplace that routinely makes all women have an IV during labor.  Sadly, I was only 3-4 cm dilated.  That meant about one centimeter after seven hours of labor!  Little did we know it was a sign of things to come . . .

Meanwhile, back at the ranch Mom was getting an Alexander lesson from my teacher and they had only just begun to worry about us when we arrived home.  I think it was around 8ish that my contractions finally got to five minutes or less (but you should ask Mom – she was timing them all with religious fervor) and the midwife came around 9pm.  Labor started getting intense for me but my cervix was still only 4-5cm.  Again, that meant about four hours just for one centimeter!  I think it was this check that was particularly painful.  She checked during a contraction and it made the contraction ten times worse and it felt like she was in there forever doing everything she could to make it more painful.  I said something like “do you have to do all that?” but apparently that was the only time I “yelled” at anyone.  Stephan was saved any cursing that it was all his fault.  At the end of the check I was in tears and overwhelmed.  The only good news was that I couldn’t be diagnosed with failure to progress.  I was progressing, only slooooowly.  I started fading into a zone where it took all my concentration just to deal with the moment and everything else is a bit hazy, though also clear in a strange way.  The hours seemed to fly by as I had no sense of time passing, but rather a sense that I was in an eternity of waves of pain.  At one point I remember thinking “I must be in transition.  They say that once you can’t stand it any more you’re in transition and it’s nearly time to push.”  I was hopeful when she checked me but I was only five centimeters!  I started wondering if I could survive.  I was in no way prepared for the pain and how to handle it.  I’m not sure if anyone can be.  It like period cramps but then not at all like cramps.  It wasn’t just pain it was like something taking over the whole body.  It was so intense and took all my energy and concentration just to stay alive through them, must less relax during them.  It’s impossible to describe and I remember thinking Stephan and I would have to adjust to the idea of only have one child.  There was no way I would or could ever do this again, but I was wise enough not to utter these thoughts out loud since I figured I would probably change my mind later and everyone would laugh at me.

I also started getting tired.  10pm is my bedtime, after all, and everyone knows how I start to fade after that time under normal circumstances, how much more after four hours of sleep and a full day of labor!  Christina suggested I take a bath, which felt good as I was able to be on my side and allow my belly to float.  I was often falling asleep between contractions and this had Christina worried that I might be too tired to complete a natural birth at home and if it might be better to go to the hospital.  I remember thinking when she told me that I looked very tired “Of course I’m tired!  I’ve gotten little sleep and it’s 11pm!  What’s the problem?”  In reality I was already in the zone and didn’t waste my breath on complaints and focused on understanding the situation in order to make a good decision.  I had decided to trust the Swiss system for the whole homebirth/hospital connection so I was willing to take her advice on what I should do.  I didn’t want to go to the hospital, especially since Christina had said at this point they would probably recommend induction medication and because of the induction medication also an epidural.  It sounded to me like all that would take just as long as sticking with my naturally slow labor.  I asked Christina’s advice and she said it’s what’s for me.  The baby was clearly doing absolutely fine.  He had a rock solid heart beat whenever they checked.  The only question was whether I had the strength to complete the opening phase and the pushing phase which would be who-knows-how-long, and probably quite long since everything was going so slowly.  I didn’t know if I could do it, but once I understood that going to the hospital would be for me and not because of the baby I felt safe in accepting her offer of giving it another hour and seeing how it goes.

Here things start to get fuzzy.  I was in an eternity of surviving and trying to follow the midwife’s instructions.  I preferred to lie down because I could rest between contractions, but Christina was afraid that was slowing down my labor.  I would walk or sit on the Maia-Hocker (birthing stool) with Stephan supporting me until I was too tired and had to lie down for a while.  My Alexander teacher said that after the hospital threat she could see a change in my attitude toward labor.  Somehow I released my control of the situation and let things happen the way they were.  I don’t remember a conscious change.  I was trying all along to accept what was happening to my body, but I guess I stopped trying and that let it happen.  In any case, things must have sped up at some point because she didn’t check me again until I started having the urge to push and then I was nearly 10cm.  Before that, though they send Stephan out to the emergency pharmacy to get some more antibiotics since it had been another eight hours since my last dose.  This time they left the needle in me in case another eight hours would pass or I needed something else.  I hardly remember them sticking me, though Stephan said they had trouble with it.  I do remember him asking me where my music stand was and being able to answer in a clear and concise way.  Somehow I could focus well on what was at hand and let everything else slip away.  They apparently hooked up the antibiotic drip to the music stand, but I was allowed to lie down so I hardly noticed it.  At one point after they disconnected the IV I was hanging on Stephan during a contraction and he later said the needle end was digging into his neck and he though about saying something but checked himself when he realized it must hurt me even more and I wasn’t noticing it because of the contraction . . .

Well, however it was I managed to get through each new contraction.  I remember being encouraged that everyone thinks at some point that they just can’t go any longer and they still get through it, so it’s okay to think I can’t to it any more.  I’ll get through it.  Luckily for me the pushing brought about a different set of feelings and pain which made it easier to keep fighting through.  At the start of each push it made the contraction more intense but once I was pushing with full strength the contraction pain disappeared and I could focus my energy on pushing my baby out.  Long ago I’d stopped being encouraged by the idea of getting a baby in the end.  I didn’t care.  I wanted it to be over.  That’s horrible to say, but it is how I felt.  I couldn’t picture a blessed life with a baby when I was in such a state!  Anyway, nobody remembers when I started pushing, but it was probably sometime after 3am.  The midwife had to help massage a lip of the cervix away before the baby could descend, but after that things went relatively quickly (maybe relatively is the key word).  During pushing I lay party on my left side, then we moved to the birthing stool, then the final winning position was on my right side with my left leg propped up by one of my faithful attendants.  I should say here how wonderful it was to have everyone there.  Through all of it my Mom and Stephan were there.  Through most of it my Alexander teacher was there.  Through much of it the midwife was there and at the end another midwife was there.  Each person had an important role in the elaborate dance and trance of the evening: sometimes translating, sometimes sensing a need, sometimes bringing water, sometimes pushing here or supporting there.  I don’t know how I could have done it without them.  At the end all five of them were around me supporting me and groaning with me.  It wasn’t easy for them either since I was rather picky about how my leg was to be held and was very unhappy if someone did it the wrong way.

As Joseph began to show his head the burning started.  At one point they encouraged me to reach down and touch my baby, but his head was so smashed that only a mushy little bit was palpable and I though it was a hemorrhoid!  Christina kept saying “just a little more” and I kept thinking the head must be nearly out, but contraction after contraction came and the burning and stretching only got worse.  I kept trying to push him out because once the contraction left I’d have to sit there with my perineum stretched out and that was no fun.  I’d pant hard to try to deal with the feeling and I was always told to take deep breaths, which I then did but I had to be reminded each time.  I remember roaring like a lion trying to call up every bit of strength in my body, but I also remember holding my breath during pushes.  I have no idea how to reconcile the two.  However it was, eventually I was able to push his head out and then with the next push during the same contraction at 5:28am on Monday, June 28th, I pushed his body out and they laid sweet little Joseph on my belly, only at that point I wasn’t thinking of sweet little Joseph I was thinking “Man, this hurts like h***.”  I called out (directed to my mother) “Somebody told me the pain goes away after the baby is born!”  After all, that was one of the major selling points of going natural: you don’t have the lingering effects of the anesthesia or surgery.  Mom sheepishly answered “I forgot that part.”  Ha!  I was pretty mad at all the mothers who had told me it was SO worth it and it wasn’t that bad.  So much for that magical moment when they lay the baby on your chest and you bond in bliss!  I enjoyed rubbing the vernix into Joseph’s back (he was covered!) but I was still having to focus all my attention on dealing with the pain.  After a time the burning started to ease and I could look at and enjoy my baby a bit more while the midwives busied themselves with stitching up a small tear.  Joseph started rooting right away and when given the opportunity he latched on easily.  The midwives were surprised I had the urge to push quite soon after Joseph’s birth because the chord was still pulsing when I asked “do I push?”  They said to go ahead if I felt like it and the placenta slipped right out.  Later she showed us how there were some signs of age on it, so although Joseph was nearly a week early he was ready to pop!  I guess the old lady at the wedding the night before I went into labor was right when she said “You are RIPE!”

What an experience!  And sure enough, later that same day I started thinking it wasn’t that bad and maybe I could do it again.  Oh how we mothers deceive poor innocent young women!

At some point in the morning Mom left us alone so we could discuss names.  It didn’t take us too long to settle on Joseph Andreas (we had a short list prepared beforehand) and it was strange at first to announce a new name, but now we are quite used to it.  You’d think after all I went through I’d also be used to the idea of having a baby, but I still look at Joseph and think “How did you get here?”  It’s such a beautiful miracle that seems so disconnected to the ordeal of labor.

Sorry it’s so long.  It’s my first and I have a need to express the experience somehow.  I could probably right just as much about how hard the weeks after birth have been.  If 25 hours is an intense endurance race, then the following two weeks is a long-distance endurance race.  I’m so grateful for all the support, especially from my wonderful husband and mother and the expert advice of the midwife.  We are enjoying Joseph more and more and I am doing better and better and look forward to enjoying my baby fully recovered and with a stable body, if not the same one I knew before!

Welcome to our family, precious Joseph Andreas!