WARNING: There is a lot of graphic description in this blog about personal things you may not want to know about my body and the process of childbirth. I invite you to read, and am happy to share it with my friends, but remember - you were warned.
They say that you forget the pain of childbirth; That hormones wash it all away. I remember it all right now - 4 days later. I don't want to ever forget.
Nothing can prepare you for the pain that is hard labor contractions.
Nothing.
I was a very fortunate woman. I didn't feel any pain for over half of my labor.
Duane and I went to the hospital because I had started to bleed after we had sex before bed. I fully expected to be sent home, and I was angry that we had to waste our time at the hospital after just getting home from a trip to
On the way to the hospital I started having cramps and we were very concerned. They went away shortly after we got to the hospital, and the bleeding stopped. So I figured all was alright at that point.
I was in labor. They admitted me and the nurse said "We're going to be having a baby!"
"What?! Now? Today?? But I don't hurt!" Was all I could think. So much for planning.
I don't know how long I was in labor. I was in the hospital for 24 hours after from when they told me I was to when I had her. I know I was feeling stronger contractions (and a bit 'funny') while I was in the shower at my brothers' apartment, less than 24 hours before I was in the hospital. During our hospital visit there were some happy times... some boring times... some restless times... and some not so happy oh-my-god-I'm-dying times. Duane was with me through it all.
He is so amazing. He was supportive, and patient, and kind. I saw how much he really loves me every minute we were in the hospital. Especially at the oh-my-god-I'm-dying times. He was so upset to see me in pain that I didn't know what was wrong with him until I asked. I love him for that.
So after a long sleepless and restless night, I sent Duane home to get the things we would need. Since I was a week early - I didn't have anything packed and we didn't exactly think "this is it!" when we left the house. He got back to the hospital just in time to be witness to my doctor breaking my water. (So much for him not wanting to see... hehe) After what felt like gallons of water gushing from between my legs
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!
I welcomed (or rather I should say endured) my first "real" contraction. At that moment I decided that C-Sections were cheating and epidurals were mandatory. I gripped the railing of the hospital bed for dear life with one hand and Duane's hand with the other. My focal point (at first) became the visualization of making it through the contraction without crushing every bone in his not-so-fragile hand. It then switched to various points of interest about the room as I became more and more distressed that the last object didn't help anymore than the first had. But I held on to Duane's hand - and that bed rail. My contractions were coming every 1.5 minutes and lasting about 1.5 minutes. The best way I can describe these contractions - they are like a roller coaster of torture. They start out painful and get more painful (surprise!)... And the threshold keeps going up and up and up and you don't know when it is going to stop until you start going down - in slow motion. And (bonus!) it's like you have one of those nifty pass bracelets - so you "get to" go on it over and over and over again against your will. (No refunds - yet again)
I remember telling Duane, "I want my water back!"
Mid-contractions the phone rang. I told Duane to answer it because I knew it was my sister. All I could manage to say between the contraction was "I love you. No. Not now. Later. ... Duuuaaannneee." *que next contraction* He relayed the message and came back to me.
Only a few contractions into the fun-ness the nurse walked over and pushed some buttons on my IV. The conversation between Duane and I:
Kristi: "Did she turn up the pitocin?!" (Panic)
Duane: "Yep." (Calm)
Kristi: "Why did she DO that!?" (Whining)
Duane: "You woke the bears! Why did you DO that!?" (Humor)
Both: *Laughs*
Kristi: "You made me laugh during hard labor. I am so going to remember that. Oh no, not again... oh god...." (Very sad, at the beginning of the next contraction)
If you have seen the movie Anchorman, you will find the above conversation more humorous than others.
At this point I was begging Duane to go ask for an epidural. I needed one. I would have done anything to make the pain stop. A N Y T H I N G.
I was far enough along before they broke my water, so they sent for the man who I wanted to hug. It took a good 8-10 contractions (they had transferred to being a measurement of time at this point) before he finished administering the epidural, but when he was done.... Oh... Oh Oh.... Oh. No pain, no more. I love you epidural man - even though I never knew your name. I remember thinking (and telling Duane later on) that I felt as though I should have tipped him as he left the room.
I was telling Duane yesterday that through all of the breathing and the distractions and the focal points and him and the nurse there was only on constant through the entire experience in pain - the hospital bed railing. I held onto that piece of metal and plastic for dear life through each and every contraction. I have an attachment towards it.
I have an attachment to a hospital bed railing.
That should be enough to tell you about the trauma of labor. ... and I was only in pain for an hour.
Epidural in - numbness from the waist down - happy happy happy.
I could still feel the contractions, but they went back to that nice muscle squeeze that I had before the mean doctor put me in pain. At this point it felt like a massage.
Then, as amazing as it sounds, I slept. I slept the best sleep I have ever slept.
When I woke up - around 7 pm the nurse checked my cervix and I was fully dilated and effaced. The baby was at -2 position. (-5 is out and about)
Nurse:"Ok, I'll give you a few minutes and then it's time to push!"
Kristi: "Huh?"
My doctor wasn't there, but I guess you have to "pre-push" the baby to the cervical opening. Then they call the doctor and she does the rest of the delivery.
The messy part.
The pushing is just the hard part.
Pushing the baby is like having a really constipated bowel movement. (Birth sounds romantic doesn't it?!) Only you don't have the option of waiting on laxatives and you show everyone what's going on behind door number 2. You pull your legs up to your chest as far as you can around a massive belly that is agonizingly contracting and flaunt your most private parts to whoever is in the room. And here's a fun fact that they snuck in at the last moment!
Vomit!
YAY!
No one ever told me, and I never read anywhere, in any books (and I read a lot of books), that MOST women vomit in the last phases of labor. it helps to push the baby down along with the contractions. I thought perhaps I wouldn't be one of those women. I thought wrong. Even more fun is the fact that since I hadn't eaten anything in the last 24+ hours (and I had eaten an artichoke with mayo for dinner) there was nothing TO vomit but bile and acid. But boy oh boy, there was that. After I got that taken care of (and vomiting while on your back is hard to do) it was time for round 2! Baby wasn't liking the contractions and all the pushing because they were too close together. So we turned down the pitocin, and they gave me oxygen - that made me nauseous. I couldn't get rid of the oxygen though because baby needed it.
When you throw up the second time - it's brown and foamy. Mine smelled just like my dogs vomit when he gets sick. I would recommend no artichokes after 37 weeks of pregnancy. Just to be safe.
If there is one tip I can give soon-to-be mothers about vaginal childbirth it is this:
Don't be shy. It's impossible to get through labor with any type of modesty. It's not worth the amount of time or pain it takes to get past that point of no return where you end up with the same carefree spirit you should begin labor with. Really. Forget about it. In fact - start flashing people at 38 weeks. I think that might help. The people that were in that room from 7pm until 11pm know and have seen things about my body I have never shared with anyone. Ever. I really don't mind that now.
My nurse (Duane and I agree) should be a motivational speaker. She was awesome, and I am so grateful to her for all she did to help me. It's a bit uncomfortable when a complete stranger has their hand up your vagina and is telling you to try to make poop, but she was as sweet as can be. She actually went to high school with Duane and I in
I pushed for 2 hours. I was so tired. Duane never left my side and he told me how good I was doing. He kissed me and smiled and made me feel like everything was going to be ok. He counted through the pushes for me. 3 pushes per contraction, counting from 1-10 per push. I can still hear his counting in my head. I focused on his voice. I did better with just Duane and I in the room - the nurse agreed. I was more comfortable, so I think that had something to do with it.
Just my family-
Duane, me, and the baby we were bringing into the world.
So... finally at about 9 pm, baby was ready for the doctor. So we literally took a half hour break and waited for the doctor to get there. I rested and talked to Duane. It was like a 45 minute vacation even though the contractions kept on coming.
Time for the grand finale.
Doctor Adams-Berry got there and they set up every operational tool imaginable. I tried not to look at them - I knew there were sharp ones.
"Ok, push."
I kept thinking to myself -
"Push harder; this is to see your daughter. You have waited so long for this.
Harder. Harder.HARDER!"
I hadn't wanted an episiotomy, but when I heard the doctor say her heartbeat was falling it was amazing how little I cared about what I wanted. We needed to get her out. I would have offered a limb if it would have helped. I felt the scissors and the tearing and the cutting. I heard it. Duane saw it. *shivers*
They brought in a mirror. I didn't look.
No way.
No how.
I'm not that stupid.
I don't need that trauma.
Duane looked. HAHA! He has trauma. He still cringes at the word episiotomy.
(P.S. The first bowel movement after an episiotomy feels like you are giving birth all over again - have fun with that.)
One more push. Duane was there telling me how good I was doing.
Duane's voice counting... 1...2...3...4...5...6...
"Push Kristi, PUSH!" in my head
there were at least 8 people in the room, but I only felt 3.
"1...2...3..."
"PUSH!"
I was shaking so badly from the adrenaline.
I felt her head come out! Finally!
OHH! I wanted to see her!
The doctor told me to stop pushing as she cleared the amniotic fluid out her sinuses and lungs.
2 contractions had passed.
One more push.....
and seconds later, I had a beautiful baby girl lying on my chest looking up at me with the most incredulous eyes. She was blue-ish and covered in vernix and blood, but still the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.
I cried from happiness. The only pictures I allowed Duane to take of me in the delivery room were right after she was born and I was crying while holding her.
Duane got to see the entire process of pregnancy and vaginal childbirth for the first time. He never got to experience that with his sons (they were born cesarean). I am so happy to have given him that gift of experience. I think he appreciates it. He saw her head coming down, and when she was born. He got to cut the cord, and was the first to hold her after they cleaned her up some and made sure she was healthy. She cried and screamed during clean up, but as soon as they placed her in her Daddy's arms she was so peaceful and happy... she just looked at him and stuck out her tongue - tasting the new air. I saw tears in his eyes. I have pictures to prove it. Even now, every time he says "I love my girls." or hugs us both and says "I love my family" I melt inside. She was born a Daddy's girl.
It took a hell of a lot of suture to stitch me up, and I made the mistake of seeing the needle while the doctor was doing it.. and all the blood... but I didn't care. I was too distracted staring in amazement at my daughter and the man I love more than life.
Aidynn Grace Stevens - my daughter - is exactly 4 days and 40 minutes old as I write this sentence. I had a pregnancy that I worked 40 hours a week until 37 1/2 weeks through, and the last few weeks were tough for me. Labor was long and painful at times, but I consider myself one of the few lucky ones to get through most of it "virtually pain free". I also had the best support system I could ask for.
All of the above might not sound like fun (and I didn't even blog about recovery!) but I would do it over again (and we plan on it in the future!!
Because look what I get to hold, and cuddle, and kiss, and feed, and love ..
every single second
of my life:
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