I've read a lot of birth stories in the last 9 months. Some are quick and easy. Some are drug free. Some are long and painful. Some are Cesarean. No two are the same. But
every single one is the sweetest love story you've ever read. Mine is no exception. My story is in no way how I had envisioned it would be. I didn't go into labor naturally. My water didn't break. I didn't have a drug free labor. I didn't labor in the jacuzzi tub the way I wanted. I didn't have a rush of adrenaline the way I hoped. My story, like every other birth story wasn't written from a script. But, this is
MY story.
MY love story of meeting my son.
My due date, December 17th arrived with much discouragement and disappointment. I was 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced- the way I had been for weeks. Peggy, my midwife, scheduled my induction for Dec. 26th- after Christmas? What? A total re-adjustment. Never in my 9 months had I EVER thought my sweet baby would not be here for Christmas. Sigh. I just prayed that maybe, just maybe he would come on his own before then. He didn't.
Christmas came and went with no signs from Sprout. So there it was December 26th, the day of my induction. The day was spent tidying the house, packing our bags and readying ourselves for the hospital. Nothing like I pictured the day I headed to the hospital would go. No adrenaline pumping, no water breaking, no scurrying around the house. NO. None of that. The day was full of calm. I called the hospital to double check they were ready for me and the nurse said someone had just come in and they may need to reschedule my induction. I couldn't hardly tell my family. I spit out the information then ran upstairs and cried.- the one time I let myself break down. "Lord, I just want to have my baby!' About 15 minutes later the nurse called back and said we were a go and to head down. Thank you Lord! Kevin and I settled into our room around 4pm at which point I was given a dose of cervidil- something to help soften the cervix and hopefully kick start contractions. After 12 hours, I was checked Tuesday morning at 5am. No change. I knew at that moment I was in for a long haul. They hooked me up to pitocin and began the drip at 6am on Tuesday. This is where my true labor begins. At first the contractions were manageable. My family was in the room, we were watching Bourne Identity, laughing.. having a great time. At 10am the contractions were getting tougher and Peggy came to check my progress. 3 cm dilated. Slight progress. Peggy decided to break my water. I don't know about anyone else, but having my water broken was one of the most painful things ever. I hated every second of it. Shortly after I had a catheter placed on my uterus to monitor the intensity of my contractions. Again- not so fun to have done. Well, the contractions were strong and getting stronger. This was good. I was managing ok. By noon, the mood changed and my contractions were much more intense. It took everything out of me to get through them. Peggy checked me again and I was still 3cm dilated. Progress was horribly slow yet contractions were getting stronger.
Side note: At my December 17th appointment I had talked with Kevin and Peggy about forgoing a natural birth and getting an epidural if need be. Since my cervix was so unfavorable and I was already past my due date I did not want to prolong the process. I knew going into my induction that if progress was slow and if I really felt the need, I would get an epidural. I refused to feel bad about it.
At 3pm I was checked yet again and I was 4cm dilated. I started running a high fever of about 102 and now the contractions were extremely painful. I remember looking up at Kevin with pleading eyes hoping he could make the pain stop. He couldn't. I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep up with this type of pain at the slow rate I was progressing. So, at 3:30 I was given an epidural. Everyone thought I'd have Sprout right away after my body relaxed from the epidural. Quite frankly, so did I. After 2 hrs, my contractions teetered off to a moderate intensity and still no baby. I was taken off pitocin to give my body a rest. We all hoped that my body would kick in naturally and continue contractions on it's own. No such luck. For two hours while my body was recovering from being pumped with pitocin all day, my contractions had nearly stopped. I was at 5cm at this point. At 7pm I was put back on pitocin.
Since my progression was so slow the inevitable C-section lingered on every one's mind. At one point I remember thinking, maybe a C-section would just be easier. I quickly got over that thought though! I was NOT going to claim a C-section and I was trusting the Lord would honor my heart in delivering Sprout naturally.
It took another 7 hrs before hitting the 6cm mark.. It was 11pm and if we didn't see any big progress in the next hour I would need to seriously consider a C-section. My mom called out to the church and the prayers of God's people went up and within 45 minutes of the call going out I went from 6cm to 9cm dilated. Praise God!!
I suddenly felt the intense urge to push. The nurse told me not to push until I just couldn't stand it any longer. Well, at midnight I couldn't stand it any longer. I buzzed her in and said "I HAVE to push". Although I was only 9cm and not fully complete I was given the go ahead to start pushing. I pushed for 3 hours. Yes. 3 hours. It was hard.
Side Note: At about 1am after already pushing for an hour another pregnant mama to be was admitted into the room next to me. 1 hour later do you know what I heard coming from the room next to mine? A CRYING BABY. Yeah, she came in at 1am and had her baby at 2:21. BEFORE ME. I was not impressed.
Finally at 2:51am my labor ended.
My sweet baby Mason was born at 2:51am on December 28th. It was the hardest, most rewarding 21 hours of my life.
I threw my birth plan out the window long before being admitted into the hospital. I went into my induction with an open mind and open heart. For 9 months I thought if I had an epidural I would some how be less of a woman. I thought that since my body didn't kick in naturally I was somehow less of a woman. Well, if growing a healthy, happy baby boy for 9 months, going 10 days past my due date, laboring for 21 hours and pushing for 3 hours makes me less of woman. So be it.
Like I said, my story is nothing like I ever imagined it would be.
It's better.
A few pics...
