Birth Recap; Ye Be Warned

Here's the birth story. There are no pictures of the baby in this post, so you can skip it without feeling like you've missed a thing!

I'd had runs of regular contractions that lasted about 10 hours each, one at 37 weeks and one at 38, but they never really progressed and then eventually went away.  On Wednesday I had some more notable contractions and lost my mucus plug in the afternoon.  I decided to walk to our ward's book club that night after the kids were asleep.  It was about 20 minutes away.  It's fun to walk at night here in the winter (when it isn't raining, that is) because so many houses have wood burning stoves or fireplaces going, and with all the trees it feels like walking through a campsite.  It was nice to sit and visit with the ladies from the ward and eat brownies with marshmallow cream frosting and cast my vote for next month's book (we're reading The Outsiders, which I have somehow never read before).  They all tried to convince me to let them take me home, but I told them I needed to walk and would let them know when I arrived home safely.  That night we packed our hospital bag, crossed our fingers, and went to bed.  I woke up to a big contraction at 2am (which was weird and disorienting) and settled in front of the computer on our exercise ball to go through the album of funny family pictures Colette made for me.

Many hearty laughs later, my contractions were 5 minutes apart, so I woke up Drew and started trying to call someone to come stay with the kids.  I had to call four people before I got someone to answer their phone--it's hard to get a hold of people at 3 in the morning!  Luckily many people had offered to help, so I had options.  Our home teacher's wife came right over, then Drew and I left for the hospital.

The hospital is right on the Dyes Inlet.  It's the only place I've ever enjoyed waiting for immunizations, because you get to sit looking out over the water and watch bald eagles fishing.  I never did take a picture of the labor and delivery floor, but it is beautiful.  They call it the "Family Birth Center: Northwest Beginnings."  So poetic.   Our room was enormous.  And there was even a chair for Drew to sit in.  I wouldn't have thought to be grateful for it if we hadn't had our last baby in Japan where Drew had a little stool in the corner.  Not that I give Drew much time to sit down at the hospital anymore.
We got there around 4, checked in at the front desk, then made our way to the triage room.  One of the corpsman gave me a gown to change into then left.  When she came back in she said, "I'm sorry, but what are you here for?"  I guess I looked too excited to be having a baby to make a convincing presentation of labor.  They got me hooked up to the fetal monitors and Dr. Pickett, the resident who was very friendly, young, and earnest, came in to do a cervix check and an ultrasound to confirm fetal position.  The results of his exam got everyone moving a little faster.  HN Miller placed a just-in-case IV, then Dr. Pickett came back in with some paperwork.  I don't remember doing this with my other babies, but I had to sign a consent form for vaginal birth.  Dr. Pickett talked me through the whole thing:

1. The diagnosis requiring the procedure is pregnancy.
2. The nature of the procedure is the delivery of the infant through the birth canal.
3. The purpose of the procedure is to deliver the infant.
4. As a result of this procedure being performed, there may be material risks of: Infection, Allergic Reaction, Disfiguring Scar, Severe Loss of Blood, Loss or Loss of Function of any Limb or Organ, Paralysis or Partial Paralysis, Paraplegia or Quadriplegia, Brain Damage, Cardiac Arrest or Death.

  He finished his spiel and I had to sit there and blink a few times.  Vaginal birth is a medical procedure?  And you wait until the woman is in active labor to read her a list of possible complications, all of which are horrifyingly frightening?  I seriously almost laughed out loud.  It was only Dr. Pickett's very polite, well-meaning face that stopped me from doing so.  I am sure there are good reasons for having one sign such a form, but it seemed like the wrong time.  Though now that I think of it, there isn't really a good time to receive such news.  Maybe they're banking on the mom being so absorbed in laboring that she won't hear or freak out.
After the triage room we went into the delivery room and met our nurse, LT Kelly, who was super awesome.  She set up some things then told me to ring her if my water broke or anything changed.  Up to this point contractions had been easy to breathe my way through, but I was starting to have to squat while holding onto the counter with them as well.  I went in to go to the bathroom and pop! my water broke.  I was confused because there didn't seem to be much fluid.  I was walking back over to the bed after washing my hands when the next contraction arrived and I was suddenly standing in a puddle.  LT Kelly was well prepared with towels.  At this point I was really tired, so I laid down on the bed and suddenly remembered to tell LT Kelly that Dr. Pickett had said baby was presenting face up when he did his ultrasound.  She said, "Oh!  Well I'll be right back!" and brought in a peanut shaped birth ball to help open things up and let baby readjust.

"for Exercise, Therapy, Labor Birthing and Dog Training"  Wait, what?

She told me to let her know when I started to feel any urge to push.  I think we gave her 10 minutes before I was starting to make cow sounds.  Drew was very helpful at this point, rubbing my back and keeping me relaxed.  CDR Hazlett, the midwife I had been seeing for my prenatal visits, just happened to be on call, so she came in with Dr. Pickett to oversee the delivery.  Dr. Pickett did another cervical check, said I was completely dilated and effaced and was probably ready to try some pushing.  I pictured the "pushing" I had been coached to do with Vivien and Rafe, sitting up and holding my breath for a count of ten while bearing down until I thought my head was going to explode.

It didn't sound like much fun.  So, I said something along the lines of, "I didn't actually do any 'pushing' per se with my last baby and it worked pretty well, so I think we're just going to kind of sit here and see what happens."  Dr. Pickett must have looked doubtful, because CDR Hazlett and LT Kelly were both like, "She knows what she's doing, so we're just going to go with her program."  There followed the hurrying of feet and snapping of gloves and wheeling of carts, then it kind of felt like everyone was standing around waiting, so I asked Dr. Pickett if he knew any good jokes.  He told this one:

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson decide to go on a camping trip. After dinner and a bottle of wine, they lay down for the night, and go to sleep.

Some hours later, Holmes awoke and nudged his faithful friend.

"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."

Watson replied, "I see millions of stars."

"What does that tell you?"

Watson pondered for a minute.

"Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets."
"Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo."
"Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three."
"Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful and that we are small and insignificant."
"Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow."
"What does it tell you, Holmes?"

Holmes was silent for a minute, then spoke: "Watson, you idiot. Someone has stolen our tent!"

We all groaned and gave him a chuckle.  And by that time, the "pushing" had started.  What I told Dr. Pickett was mostly true--I didn't actually do any voluntary pushing with Annie.  When it got close to delivery, my contractions would start and towards the end of them it felt like a spasm, honestly kind of like you feel when you're throwing up.  It wasn't really anything I did or didn't do, it just sort of happened whether I wanted it to or not.  With my epidurals, I felt like I was accomplishing something when the monitor would pick up a contraction and I would bear down.  But especially with this birth, it was quite obvious that nothing was going to happen without this one:

It's kind of like surfing.  You can paddle as hard as you want towards shore, and yes, you're moving, but it's nothing compared to how you move when you catch a wave just right.  The newborn photographer lady in Iwakuni said she felt like the moms who didn't have epidurals seemed to recover after delivery a little quicker, and I think that's one of the reasons why.  The pushing I did with my epidural deliveries took way more effort than the other two--I think I did more paddling than was necessary to catch the waves, and I probably didn't ride them as far as I could have because I couldn't feel when they were over.  I digress.

Once baby started moving down through the birth canal I got up on my hands and knees, because . . .

Drew stood on one side of the bed by my head and kept up a good, constant stream of encouragement.  Everyone else was on the other side of the bed pinned up against the wall.  At least, they would have been if the room hadn't been enormous.  I tried to apologize for not giving them more space, but they wouldn't hear it.  I have to say that I was so impressed with the delivery team.  They were supportive of me, and they were supportive of each other, especially in being patient working with the varying levels of experience.  It was Dr. Pickett's first hands and knees delivery, but he was a great sport and rolled with it (later he told me it was like an exercise in spacial reasoning trying to chart it, he had to think of it as looking in a mirror).  It was the perfect atmosphere for a birthday!  

This baby took significantly more time to come out than Annie did.  And for good reason--he ended up being 8 lbs and 5 oz to Annie's 7 lbs 4 oz.  From what I can remember, Annie came out with basically two contractions; this baby, more like five.  It doesn't seem like much of a difference, but when there's a minute or two between each one, and those minutes are filled with, you know, a baby's head just sitting there, stretching everything in the area to inconceivable dimensions, it feels like a really long time.  There was burning.  It was not pleasant.  By the end of one of the contractions baby's head was mostly out, and Dr. Pickett was excitedly encouraging me to push because we were so close.  I did try, but there was about as much response as there was from my abs the first time I tried to do a core workout after having Vivien.  A rousing chorus of, "Yeeeeaaah, no."  I could hear CDR Hazlett coaching him to wait for the contractions.  It did the trick.  Once head was through I was expecting the rest of him to slip out pretty easily.  It was more along the lines of this:

But then he was here!  As they were passing him through to me he pooped ALL OVER.  I gathered him up in my arms and then LT Kelly and HN Miller were there to rough him up with towels and get him clean and breathing.  He cried out just for a second and then settled right down on my chest.  Drew got a picture, but it is not for posting.  At the time you are not thinking about how naked you are, but it is more difficult to ignore in pictures after the fact.  Afterwards, baby started eating really well right away, which almost distracted me while Dr. Pickett put in what seemed like a million stitches for a 1st degree tear that LT Kelly thought was probably an old scar popping open.  They started a pitocin drip to help my veteran uterus out in getting back to an acceptable size.  Once everything was all wrapped up and people were getting ready to leave (baby was born right before end of shift) there was a moment where everyone who had been present was standing there smiling, saying how awesome it had been, and expressing gratitude for having been able to be a part of it.  And the sun was rising!  It was a very good day.