We went upstairs to get me changed – me leaking all the
way up. Then I looked up the symptoms of
water breaking on the internet and it seemed possible that it could have been
my water…it just looked like a clear liquid.
So I called my mom, told her what happened, and she told me to call the
doctor. I called the doctor and while
we waited for them to call us back, Chad hopped into the shower – we were
still planning on him going to work at this point because we didn’t think it
was anything. The doctor called me back, I told her what happened, and she told me to go to Labor and Delivery at
the hospital. Pretty much at this exact
same time, I started having contractions.
They weren’t too bad, but definitely contractions. I remember kneeling on the sofa in the media
room, and then again when I was downstairs having to kneel on the sofa. At this point Chad was running around trying
to collect things “just in case” we were in labor - I think we took the laptop, a book about
pregnancy (uh why?), a book about breastfeeding (makes more sense), my journal to Everett, and a
sweatshirt. My mom decided that she was
packing her bags and coming down right away.
Worst case scenario, it was a false alarm and we could go get lunch
together.
Then we hopped in the car and took off for the hospital,
and as we did the contractions were getting stronger and stronger – coming on
really fast and fairly hard!! Definitely
less than every five minutes!! I called
my mom and told her that we were on the way to the hospital. While we were on the highway she asked how
things were going. She was talking; I was having a contraction and couldn’t say much of anything. She
said, “Well, you’ll know if the contractions are getting stronger when you
can’t talk through them,” and I finally said, “Well, you didn’t hear me saying anything
for the past minute or two, did you!?”
All the while, on the way to the hospital, the contractions were getting
stronger and stronger and by that point, I was sure that I was definitely in
labor! We got to the hospital and parked
and I made Chad take a picture of me in the parking lot – I happened to be
having a contraction at the time, so I grimaced through it and leaned on the
bike rack with my thumbs up while Chad snapped a photo.
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| Me in the middle of a contraction in the Dublin Methodist Hospital parking lot! |
Around 10:30 AM, we slowly walked from the car to the
lobby and went inside and Chad told them I was in labor. They asked me if I needed a wheel chair and I
told them that I could walk, so they walked us up to Labor and Delivery and
sent me into a triage room. I took off my
work clothes, put on a hospital gown, and waited for a midwife to come in and
examine me. The contractions were
getting pretty strong by this point – they hooked me up to a monitor and Chad
did indeed confirm that the “contraction numbers” on the machine would go up
when my contraction would begin. Then a
midwife came in and checked my cervix and told me that I was 5 cm dilated and
definitely in labor– what a big surprise!!
Everything was happening so quickly – about 2 hours earlier I had thought
I was going into work and here I was already almost half way through the entire
process!!
 |
| In triage!! Receiving verification that I am indeed in labor!! |
Then a nurse came in and took me to a delivery room,
where my contractions continued to get even stronger. I think it was about 11:00
AM at this point – things were moving super fast and I couldn’t quite believe
where I was. They hooked me up to a Heprin
lock (IV portal, but no actual IV) and put an external monitor on me. I asked if the external monitor was necessary
and they told me it was because the baby was “decelling” which meant that the
heart rate appeared to be dropping every time I had a contraction. It’s not that the baby’s heart rate was
actually dropping, but they just couldn’t get a clear reading on it – the
contraction kind of masked whatever else was going on in there. They tried to put an internal monitor on the
baby, but I told them that they wouldn’t be doing that. Chad was asking them all sorts of questions
and then I told him to call my mom. She
started asking questions too on the phone, like “With the presence of the Strep
B virus, wouldn’t the internal monitor raise the risk of transmission to the
baby?” Then the nurse started holding
the external monitor to me and she told me that she was able to get a better
read on the baby’s heart rate. I’m glad,
because I didn’t want them to put a little hole in my baby’s head with their
unnecessary monitor. Incidentally, I
acquiesced to the external monitor even though it was unnecessary (studies have
shown that the monitor does not significantly reduce the rate of operative
deliveries or of adverse neonatal outcomes).
Around that time, Chad’s mom quietly slipped in the room
but I was in the throws of heavy labor and couldn’t really talk much. My dad also called the room about this time,
but I wasn’t able to take the call…Chad took it, while I powered somewhat
loudly through another contraction (I believe my dad asked Chad “Is that Corey
in the background?”) In fact this point was the height of my labor, and I was
vocalizing with each contraction – moaning loudly and trying in vain to get
comfortable. I tried sitting on a
birthing ball, but it was way too low to the ground – it was not
comfortable. Then I tried leaning on the
bed, and that was also not comfortable.
I remember standing, hovering between the birthing ball and the bed,
wracked with the feeling that whatever I chose, the contraction was not going
to become any more comfortable.
Eventually I decided that lying sideways on the bed was the best
position to be in. In between each
contraction I took the opportunity to rest totally and completely rest, lying
still with my eyes closed. I remember
the nurse saying something about “You can’t do X until you are X
centimeters dilated,” and I said “Can you check me now!?” She checked and I was at 9 centimeters – she
said “I don’t think we’ll be in here too much longer.” So a few minutes went by and she told me not
to start pushing until I’m 10 centimeters dilated and as she’s telling me this
I’m literally feeling the first urge to push, so I say again “Can you check me
again!?” and she tells me that I am 10 centimeters dilated and says: “You can
begin pushing if you want, do you want to begin pushing?” And I’m thinking “I don’t know! You tell me!
You’re the freaking medical staff!!”
Shortly after, the obstetrician came in and was time to
begin the real business of birthing the baby.
They had me take a deep breath and push to the count of 10 three times
in a row. I was not a fan of the third
push…I wish we could have forgone it. I
pretty much usually half assed that last push anyways. At the beginning of the pushing phase, it was
difficult to get my head out of the way…the surmounting pressure and the
knowledge that something is about to dramatically separate your vagina is not a
comforting thought. Let’s just say that
I didn’t push as hard as I could right from the get-go. However, I quickly realized that the less
enthusiastically I pushed, the longer I was going to be doing hard work. Pushing was a lot less painful than
contractions, but a LOT more active work – my entire body was covered in sweat
and I was doing everything I could in between pushes to catch my breath and
regroup my energy for the next round.
The obstetrician was doing perennial massage – NOT comfortable. I hated that!! (But at the same time I appreciated it.) She also brought in a mirror so that I could
see the progression of the baby’s head.
Ew. I would peek every once in a
while and feel intermittently grossed out and fascinated by it. Mostly though, I was either too busy working
or resting to spend a lot of time watching the mirror of a baby’s head coming
out of my vagina. In order to get me to
push more effectively, the obstetrician also had me play a game of tug-of-war
with her. Whenever I would push, I would
also pull on a white sheet, while she pulled on the other half. When a pushing contraction ended, I would be
completely out of breath – I would use the times in between to rest as much as
possible – often lying there with my eyes closed and not moving. I was able to keep my sense of humor though –
I remember when the baby’s head starting crowning the doctor remarked that it
had a lot of hair and I raised my hands above my head and exclaimed “Yes! That’s all I cared about!!”
My mom was standing on the left side of my head – she had
been holding my leg out when I pushed, but I guess I pushed with a lot of
force, so she sent Chad down while she tended to comforting my top half!!! The nurse was at my right side, coaching me
on pushing – when a contraction started, I pretty much focused everything else
out and paid attention to her. Chad was
stationed at my lower left side, holding my leg open with all his might every
time I had a pushing contraction. The
obstetrician and nurse kept asking me what I wanted to do or how I wanted to
push or whatever, and I thought “Dude. I
do not want to make decisions right now.
Please tell me what to do and I will do it.” At one point, the head starting to really
emerge and the doctor wanted to do an episiotomy and I did have an opinion on
that – I gave an emphatic “No!” In my
head I was screaming “This is not your standard of care! This is not your standard of care!” So she didn’t give me one (although I did
tear). Finally when the baby’s head had
crowned half way and after about 45 minutes of pushing, I gave one final push and the entire body just came
slithering out. Somebody announced that
it was a boy and they put little Everett Alan on my chest and toweled him
off. Wow! It was finally over and we had a little
son! How exciting!! I had asked them to wait until the cord
stopped pulsing to cut it – which they did.
Chad cut the cord – gross. I
peeked a little bit but yeesh, it’s not exactly my cup of tea.
 |
| The first few moments of Everett Alan's life! |
Then the nurse told me she were going to “massage” (aka
punch the hell out of) my uterus which was going to hurt, in order to get out
all the extra blood and crap that was hanging out in there. Oh my god, did it ever hurt. I yelled out when she pushed down on me – I
accidentally squished poor little Everett and also pushed the nurse’s hand
away. On the second “massage” I was able
to prepare by holding my mom’s hand on the left and gripping the bed on the
right. She told me to relax – that she
couldn’t effectively massage if I was tense.
Hahahaha. That’s so funny: relax while getting punched. That’s impossible! But whatever she did (and I’m not saying I
condone it) it worked, because I could feel lots of stuff coming out. Also, while my childbirth was just about 100%
natural (I did very briefly take some antibiotics for the Strep B culture), I
did NOT get a Pitocin free hospital stay!!!
After the birth, they gave me a short IV dose of Pitocin to contract the
uterus to avoid post-partum hemorrhaging.
If I had realized what she was giving to me, I probably wouldn’t have
consented, but in the moment there was a lot going on, I was focusing on my new
son, and I was too tired to notice!!
Sneaky, sneaky hospital got a Pitocin point on me!! At the same time all this is going on, the
obstetrician is stitching up my tears while I’m asking her “Are you done yet?”
 |
| I don't know what was going on here but this was right after he was born |
During these first few minutes I remember everybody
remarking about how his face looked and all I could see was the top of his
head!! I remember at one point
exclaiming “Are we bonding!? We are
supposed to be bonding right now!!” And
the nurse kind of laughed and said “Sweetie, you two are bonding right now.”
After about 30 minutes, I tried to nurse Everett and it went pretty well,
impressively well, actually (although after that it would take about 7
frustrating and painful days to get the hang of nursing). Also somewhere in that first hour the nurse
had me get up to pee – I had been drinking LOTS of water throughout my entire
labor. They told me I had to go because
a full bladder could lead to increased uterine bleeding. The thing that impressed me when I first got
up was how weak I was…I definitely needed help to get through the trip…at the
same time, I was happy that I was able to get up and move around so soon
afterwards.
Around 3:00 or 3:30 they moved us from labor and delivery
to post-partum. I remember when they moved me, there was a sign with patient
information that got updated each day, it had the nurses’ names, medicines I’d
be taking, etc. One section was titled
“Goals for Today,” which when I saw it I thought it should be labeled
“ACCOMPLISHED!!” Only a few hours went
by before I realized that the true work had only just begun. Recovering my own body, while learning how to
nurse in the hospital setting where nurses and doctors are constantly coming
and going, was an extremely daunting task.
Over the next two days we were also supported by all the grandparents
and an aunt, who all brought lots of food.
My mom also helped me invaluably with the steep learning curve of
nursing, showering, and a million other things that I had never even considered
I would need help with.
 |
| Everett and Mommy!! |
Overall, I would say that Chad and I were able to get the
best birth experience possible in a hospital setting (especially with the help
of my mom, who was able to help advocate for me on several occasions). Because we were informed we were able to stop
some procedures that we didn’t want (internal monitoring of baby, episiotomy,
cutting the cord early, and routine procedures interfering with initial bonding),
but it was still a very medical environment in which I found it difficult to
rest and recover after the intense and physically draining experience. It would have been better for both Everett
and me if they would quit coming in to check him – for example his blood sugar
(by pricking him and making him cry!) every couple hours, and instead just let
us sleep and actually recover. In the
end though, we had a quick labor that I was able to fully experience without
putting drugs in my body or Everett’s.
I’m proud of what I know my body can do – when surrounded by loving
support. In switching my body from
preparing for marathons and instead preparing for the big “race day event” of
labor, I was able to physically and mentally prepare for the challenges of the
day. Given the parameters in which we
had to work, we had the absolute best experience possible!! I have lots more to say and could probably
write another four pages about the next two days of our hospital stay/Everett’s
life, but we’ll have to end it here for now!!
If I could sum it all up in one sentence I would say: “Corey and Chad had a successful birth event
resulting in a healthy and beautiful baby boy named Everett Alan, surrounded by
the love and support of family.”
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| Little Everett Alan going home from the hospital! |
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