Starving Artist Ink.

i didn’t have a traumatic birth, but i also didn’t have the birth i wanted. (what’s new.. no birth is how we plan it to go. that is the nature of it)

but there’s things about it that nag at me- that i think about and tell myself i should/could have done differently. that, from the perspective of someone who isn’t *in* it.
(here’s the birth story.. here and here, but this basically repeats it again..)

–

when i was 41 weeks, i had my midwife/dr appointment. the midwife this day was not one i had ever seen, and wasn’t that friendly. i had a cold vibe from her, but tried to keep an open mind. she went through my chart and asked me about my idea of pain relief in labour. i told her that i was hoping for a natural- med free birth. and that i knew well about all that was available to me, so- i didn’t want  to be asked while in a vulnerable state if i wanted an epidural. i said that i knew what was there, and that i would ask for it if needed.

she told me that they would ask anyway. that they would ask at different stages of labour too. okay then…

i then went into the doctor- who said that he’d go ahead and sweep the membranes and see where i was at- 1cm and soft. the sweep was uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as his weird bedside manner. (i call him dr.vet) he also made the appointment for induction, but was fairly confident that i would go before then.

i walked home and continued losing pieces of the mucus plug- which i had been losing for a week or so..

that week i continued to do all that i could to naturally induce. i bounced on my ball, walked, ate tons of fresh pineapple, had sex, drank wine, relaxed, envisioned my birth… and then i started to get scared as my induction date loomed- upset about it all ending, upset about the induction…

i managed to get a few hours sleep before having to head to the hospital.

when i got there a midwife hooked me up on the bed at 6am and did an internal to see if i was dilated. she had the hardest time reaching my cervix and had to be a bit forceful to get to it- saying that i was not dilated at all- and that there was no way the baby would be born on the first. she applied the first dose of meds to start induction, and kept me on the bed for another thirty minutes to monitor the baby.

after that, we were shown our room- we walked in while my roommate was still sleeping. she had  balloons up and cards of congrats, but no baby in with her. so, we quietly set our stuff down and closed our curtain for ‘privacy’. the room was cramped.. steven and i headed downstairs to start walking.

i walked all over the parking lot, up the curbs, bouncing… stopping to squat. rubbing my belly and telling baby to move down, that it was what was best for us both. we went to the cafeteria to get breakfast. kept walking.. up and down the stairs.. after a while it wore steven out, so i told him to wait on one of the landings while i ran up and down them.

while we were outside, we decided to stop and sit on one of the benches in the grass, i squatted and held onto the bench for balance. i suddenly felt wet and thought my water was leaking (i felt the same happen a few days before) so, i waddled up the stairs to the bathrooms to check- i was wet, and mentioned it to a young student midwife- who handed me a pad and said that i probably just pee’d myself… (i knew that it wasn’t pee..) but she was sweet, and was excited for me, and wished me good luck.

on and off we continued walking.

i believe it was around 3pm that i was due to go back to the doctor to get another round of the medicine if things hadn’t picked up. this time it was with a different doctor, and a loooovely midwife. the doctor was rough, applied the second dose- and said that if it didn’t work, we’d stop and try again tomorrow.

immediately after we started walking, pains were creeping through my back. i didn’t really think too much about it, because i had been walking all day. finally i started to have more back to front contractions. they were sharp.. yowch. so sharp. coming fairly regularly, but i don’t think we really timed them. i had the breathe through them, but i didn’t think to consider it labour and REALLY practice relaxing breaths. i kept thinking of the sharp pain and being excited that i was finally feeling something. at around 6 i went back to  the midwives station and had a midwife check me over because i thought it was getting intense… she hooked me up and said that the contractions looked like they were from the meds- not proper labour contractions. (FUCK!) she checked dilation and said i was only about the circumference of her pinkie dilated (DOUBLE FUCK! it hurt though….)

she told me to go take a hot bath, and if it eased in the bath that it wasn’t proper labour yet, and that i’d get a break from them.  the bathrooms were down the hall from my ward room.  steven grabbed my bag as i filled up the tub to get in. i felt like shit. i wasn’t breathing properly. i didn’t know how, i didn’t even think to. the water helped… it felt good- but the bath tub was too skinny, i couldn’t move in it.  just lay there.  after a while i started to over heat and i wanted out. immediately when i stood up the pains rushed through my back. i tried to dry off and put my clothes back on. i put a skirt on and a t-shirt and went back to our room and laid on the bed moaning. i kept my eyes closed the entire time. steven told me that i should get up and get on the ball- which sounded like such a shit idea. but i did it… got on the ball and tried rolling back and forth with it. (the entire time my roommate was there.. the room wasn’t big enough for me to sit on the ball with the curtains shielding me. so i was basically in front of her, while she watched t.v. i tried to ignore her as much as possible.)

i wasn’t sure when a contraction would start or end. it seemed to gradually start before suddenly i’d realise ow ow ow and then it’d peak, and start to taper off- but the sting of the pain never really left. i started having steven write down when i’d start REALLY feeling it, and when i *thought* it was over. they were coming every two minutes, lasting for a minute. i waddled back to the midwives station and asked for something to take the edge off. they asked when i was last checked and i told them about it- and that this wasn’t real labour yet, but that i needed a freaking break from this shitty ass non progressive labour that huuuurt. i just needed to rest… i told them that i hadn’t slept really the night before, and that i was tired- and i just needed to breathe.  so she suggested a shot that would help ease the height of the pains, but not get rid of them. while i leaned against her desk and moaned through a few contractions- she and the other midwife were saying how pretty my face was. hahaha i have no idea… anyway, she was sweet. i loved her. she was normal, not too fluffy and sweet- just right. tells you how it is, but is also real and lovely and just. nice… she told me to go back to my room and she’d send someone down with it.
*i think that this is where i needed someone to help me breathe..and tell me that this IS labour. that i’m in it now. i kept being told that it was the induction meds and not real contractions…so i felt like the pain wasn’t progressive.. i wish someone would have told me to work through these pains.*

the girl arrived (i loved her too, she smelled delicious and i told her so. she was a midwife in training, and very young, and very pretty. from northern ireland.)  she gave me the shot (in the bum) and left me to it. it took around 15 minutes for the shot to start working, when it did- the contractions continued but didn’t peak as sharply. i kept  my eyes closed the entire time and moaned and tried to rest through them. (meanwhile.. my roommate had her family of visitors there. i tried blocking out their conversation- steven kept the curtain pulled. i tried to not moan as loudly as i wanted to…it pissed me off. i wanted space, and also to curl up into the tiniest ball at the same time)

i don’t know how much time passed- the pain started to crawl back up, getting worse and worse. i couldn’t find myself.. steven told me to get back on the ball to see if that would help. after a while i started to feel really sick and told him to come with me to the bathroom (down the hallway). i started to dry heave and asked him to wait outside the bathroom door because i didn’t want him to see me throw up. nothing came, so i asked him to come back in- he noticed there was wet on the back of my skirt, so i wiped myself and was surprised to see so much blood on the toilet paper. i wiped again, and with it came a big clot. it worried me, but i felt too weak to try to make sense of it. i was shaking and felt like i might pass out. steven ushered me to walk as fast as i could back down to the midwives station.

once i got there i was crying, and finding it hard to breathe through the pain- and could barely get the words out about the clot. the midwife from the week before (that i didn’t like) took me to the room to start monitoring me. i kept apologizing for crying, i was starting to lose myself- and she seemed to lose her patience with me. i felt like i was being a bad patient- and i was scared about the blood. steven had left to go call his mom and to grab my bag from the room. the midwife told me to start breathing the gas and air. i didn’t like it, but kept trying because she kept telling me to breathe as much of it as i could. i kept wanting to try the next contraction without it, but she kept getting onto me for not breathing it when the contraction would start.  she started asking if i wanted the epidural, which made me cry and panic even more. i kept saying no, she asked why i didn’t want it. i told her that i just didn’t. that i wanted to do this, that i was scared of the epidural meaning that i’d have to have a caesarean, that i wanted to try to move.
she told me the same bullshit thing i had read before ‘if you were go to the dentist, you’d want pain medication. this is no different.’ . actually, it’s WAY different. whatever…

she checked me.. and i was three centimeters. THREE. WHATTHEFUCK. i was so upset, i kept  thinking that if it hurt this bad right now at three…that i didn’t know how i’d deal with it at ten.  (multiple times through this i kept feeling gushes and would let her know- each time she’d wipe up a big sheet of blood.. i kept asking what it was from, why i was bleeding so much- and she’d say that she didn’t know. it scared me, it scared me that i was so out of touch with what was happening and that i felt like i was losing so much blood. it scared me that she didn’t know, and that she seemed to rush around the room when this would happen– she didn’t communicate with me at all… and when she did talk it felt more like barking at me.)

the epidural was brought up again.
steven told me to go for it. he looked desperate, he looked upset and distraught. i couldn’t stop crying because i didn’t want it… she gave me the consent form to look at- and finally i just said yes. i didn’t know how much more i could take of these ‘non’ contractions if i wasn’t progressing. immediately she got the anaesthesiologist in. i felt a mixture of disappointment and relief… but i was also still scared. he was lovely and gentle and sang with the radio while inserting the catheter in my spine.

after they got that hooked up, the midwife broke my water (i didn’t realise that is what she was doing, but she had told me before i got the epidural that that is what she would do)

i started to come back around, i could *see*. i could talk to steven for a bit, he seemed to relax a bit more. the midwife still wasn’t talking to me- she was busy in the corner with paperwork. i told her that i started to feel like i had to poo (and i knew that this was a sign that baby was moving down) but i mean, i really really thought that i had to poo first, and then start the baby thing. i told her that i felt like i already did, and thankfully she assured me that i hadn’t. she told me that with the next contraction to go ahead and give a push if i felt i needed to, so i did. she kept her fingers inside me while i did this a few times, and said that she could feel the babies head.

she then started moving around the room and told me to let her know when i was feeling pushy- and to keep doing that each time. i started pushing without telling her– because i really didn’t know if anything was happening, and because she seemed too busy-  she started to notice that i was pushing without her there (i was only pushing a tiny bit, more like my body was pushing without me telling it to)

she then told me that i was 10 centimeters and that it was time to really push. i didn’t believe her, i thought she was lying. (it had only been about two hours? maybe? maybe less) she had all of her instruments at the ready- i really..really thought it was a joke. that this would be taking hours. i asked her how long i’d be pushing for (what kind of question is that?) she said that she would give me an hour of pushing and then we’d see how things were.

so, i started pushing.. another midwife came in to assist her. steven watched the entire time- and they continued to tell me that they could see her head. i pushed.. so hard. after around 15 minutes of pushing the second midwife told me that i really need to get this baby out now. in my head- alarm bells started ringing thinking that that meant i’d end up with a c-section if i didn’t get her out NOW. so i pushed, and then came the ring of fire… oh the burning. i hadn’t made any noise until this moment- when pushing through that burning sensation, exhausted and taking a tiny break between breathing and pushing, my only word was ‘sh..it…’ the midwife laughed, and i tried panting. suddenly her head seemed to slip out and quickly followed her shoulders. one big swift gush of her body leaving mine. i couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that i was done, that there was my baby… she was laying on the bed between my legs and started to cry. 20 minutes of pushing total. i was reaching my arms out- waiting for her. (they said that she would immediately be put on my chest. i think my immediately and their immediately are two different things) they were waiting for her cord to stop pulsing and clamp it, and then she was brought to my chest- and steven given the scissors to cut her cord.

while all of this was happening the second midwife casually mentioned that she was going to give me a shot in the leg to deliver the placenta. i don’t know if she asked me, or told me… or if i really cared at that moment. the placenta was delivered. she was immediately rooting around, but i was told to wait (i can’t remember what for, or what they were doing.)  baby was taken off of me and weighed (8 lbs even).  uhhmm at some point the bed was collapsed and legs in stirrups, doctor came in to stitch me up (2nd degree tear).

i asked steven to take a picture of her on me- but the midwife wouldn’t allow it.. after the doctor was FINALLY done stitching me up (ouch.) claire was wrapped up and given to steven. (i might have that wrong of when he got her. i don’t know..)

after a while the second midwife decided to start trying to get claire to latch on, she wanted me to lay on my side- but the position was difficult for me. she kept forcing on the one nipple, when i asked if we could just try the other one (that i had been leaking more colostrum from for the past few months) she said that we needed to just keep trying this one. i ended up getting a bruise on my areola, and that nipple cracked nearly in half from her continuing to force her to latch on. during all of this- i was so drowsy.. starting to feel incredibly weak and tired. the midwife gave claire to steven and helped me into a wheel chair and plopped claire in my lap- and wheeled me down to my bedroom. outside of my door, the midwife took claire and said that she was going to go find a bassinet for her and never brought her back- she came back and told me that they were going to keep her with them for the night so i could get some sleep. it really upset me- but i was too tired to argue. steven went into the room with me to get me settled and kiss me goodnight, before he had to call my mother-in-law to come and pick him up. it was well after 1am now. i felt sad and alone, wanting him.. wanting claire. afraid that i wouldn’t recognize her. afraid that she’d be hungry and that they’d feed her a bottle.

i fell asleep but kept waking often, soaked in sweat. at around 3am i called for a midwife to help me to the bathroom (down the freaking hall) and take a quick shower since i was so sweaty. she reassured me that claire was okay and was fast asleep and hadn’t woken up. i slept for a bit, and then 5am came when the midwife wheeled her into me and helped her to latch on for a feed. that morning went slow.. i felt alone- steven wasn’t able to come to me until his mom was able to drop him off at the hospital. my mom was flying in that morning and was relaying her flight information to me, to relay to my mother-in-law’s partner.. who went to the airport without a phone.. i think that steven finally made it to me at 10am that morning.

and then my mom arrived after 1pm.

–

that night was hard. i wanted to go home with steven and my mom, but i was told it was best for me to stay. it got harder, claire wanted to constantly suck- i was tired, my nipple was cracked in half, i couldn’t get her to latch on. a few of the midwives were helpful with it, some were..not. after calling for help to latch her on- i was crying- a midwife came in and said that i was too tired and need a break. that i need to just give her a bottle. she said that it wasn’t fair on me, and that it wasn’t fair to the baby. i cried and told her that i didn’t want to give her the bottle, but she kept saying that she was hungry and needed it- and that i needed to just give it to her and go to sleep. she brought me a bottle and stood there as i fed it to her- gulping it down and said ‘see? she’s really hungry’ i didn’t like it. it didn’t feel right to me.. her mouth kept filling up too fast with the formula. so i stopped giving it to her and put her back on the breast. she only got a tiny bit of formula.. but i felt like that midwife betrayed me. i was pissed off at her.

the next day was okay. but then the night came again- when steven and mom had to leave me. i was scared for another night like the one before. i was tired- not getting any sleep in the uncomfortable bed. the noise… my roommate’s baby was now with her and was up all night crying and throwing up (i felt sorry for her). it was just a joke of a set up. i don’t know how they expect you to get any rest at all.. it was impossible. the doctors round the next morning i asked if i could go home. dr.vet was totally fine with it- the other doctors weren’t. i started to get more and more fed up with being there. wanting my own space. wanting my bedroom and bathroom and mom and husband and just.. home.

finally, we got to go home.

–

reflecting back on that experience- the birth didn’t matter, all that mattered was when my baby was in my arms. but i can’t help but think that it could have been different… i read other birth stories and hear how they went through it, and for some reason i feel a bit let down- like i COULD have done that. (what does it matter, really?) i have nothing to prove, i just want to do it.

i keep thinking– if i wasn’t induced, i’d be able to feel the contractions building naturally- giving me some time to learn my way through them. i’d also know that it is labour, and not feel as distressed and disheartened by being in pain the wasn’t progressive. or… what if i had a doula or someone there that would help me to breathe and find myself during the times that i was in pain- but told that i wasn’t in labour? i think–if i would have had my space to labour..privacy..not trapped between a wall and a curtain with no place to labour, a girl and her visitors witnessing me trying to come undone. or… what if the midwife that delivered claire wasn’t such a twat. it is what it is.

i don’t have bad feelings about the birth, i just wonder how it could have been different. of course- that means, it could have gone worse.

but, it wasn’t bad… because immediately after she was born, i was excited to have the chance to do it again. the epidural wasn’t bad either, i was still able to feel everything- but. the drowsiness afterwards, the itchy skin, and the pain in my back for weeks after from where it was inserted.

i hope that the next time, i won’t be induced… i’d really love to be able  to birth at home, rest in my own bed.

but now, i’m going to lay here and smell this baby’s head.. and kiss her impossibly soft cheeks. i’m thankful that she’s here in my arms.