I have birthed exactly one baby through these loins of mine and I could not be more proud. My baby boy is seven and a half months old and I still tell my labour story to anyone that will listen. I love my story! I love anyone else’s labour stories. When I was pregnant, I did the worst thing a woman can do and that is to read every story on the internet to add to your growing fear of child birth. I couldn’t stop. I read every story I could get my pregnant hands on. I appreciated the women that shared their stories, so I too want to share mine. Also, because everyone I know has heard it and wants me to stop talking about it. Perhaps one day I will forget how it went and I will be able to look back on this. This kind of stuff isn’t for everybody, so men can stop reading now…
I was terrified of what labour was going to feel like. You can ask plenty of women if they want to have a natural birth or an epidural, and a lot of the time you will get an answer like “I would like to try a natural birth.” Not me. my thoughts were “Give me that epidural the second I feel anything!”
I refused to be overdue. This baby was coming out by his expected due date (but as many of you know, you don’t exactly get to decide). My husband was busy at work and was scared I would go into labour early, before he was prepared (he hadn’t touched me in weeks thinking it would send me into labour) and I had last minute nesting to do. The day after Jeremie finished up his work he told me the baby is allowed to come. I said I have to clean the house and get a pedicure first, so that is what I did. Sitting in the pedicure chair, my back was aching. It had been aching all day while I finished cleaning my house and I was joking to my friend that this might be it.
That night at 7:00pm I said to Jeremie “Oh my God, I think I just had a contraction.”
“Did you really? You’re scaring me!” is what I got in return. You’re scared?! How about me who has to push what I can only hope is a healthy baby the size of a Polly Pocket out of me?
They were irregular and far apart so it wasn’t kicking in that I would soon have a baby. That night Jeremie wondered if he should stay up with me and I told him not to. I thought it would be best if at least one of us got sleep. The second Jeremie closed his eyes my contractions picked up the pace and the intensity. I didn’t get a wink of sleep like I had hoped for.
I didn’t want to be one of those pregnant women that goes to the hospital (especially in the middle of the night) just to be checked and sent home because my labour wasn’t far enough along, so I stuck it out for as long as I could. My contractions were very regular, coming every 3-5 minutes and I was contemplating waking Jeremie to take me to the hospital. I got up to use the bathroom and there was blood. “Okay, I think this is it!”
I woke Jeremie up at 3:00AM on June 14th. I told him I was going to get dressed and then we needed to head to the hospital. After dressing I came back to find that he fell asleep! How could he sleep at a time like this? A baby was about to shoot through my vagina and he wasn’t acting like the husbands I had seen on TV. Those guys panicked and quite frankly I was disappointed he wasn’t running around in a frenzy telling me to breathe my Heeee Hoooo’s. Come on, show some excitement.
They checked how dilated I was when we got to the hospital. I was four centimetres and they weren’t sending me home. I was having a baby that day. With it being the middle of the night, they would have to call in the anesthesiologist if I wanted an epidural and the chances of him coming in were slim. I stuck it out for as long as I could without asking for one, walking the halls, sitting in a hot shower for an hour, and finally morphine. When I did ask my nurse to call the guy I would call my hero to save me from these constant contractions, she decided to check me first. Apparently at a good pace, you will dilate about a centimetre and hour. The way it was looking was that I would be having my baby at noon. Nope. In under an hour, I went from a six to fully dilated. The nurse knew I wouldn’t have time for an epidural and instead of breaking the news to me, she just agreed to call the guy and lingered in the hallway so she wouldn’t have to break my heart.
I was allowed to start pushing on my next contraction. The nurse couldn’t tell if my water had broke (it could have in the shower, turns out I was just peeing in there), but when she told me to push Jeremie had noticed she stepped to the side. Jeremie also jumped to the side after quickly catching on to miss getting soaked by what I can only describe as an explosion. Like a fire hydrant that has no hose connected to it. Turns out, my water hadn’t broke before that. Many women fear their water breaking when they are out in public but not me. I had this idea in my head I was looking forward to that my water would break while I was grocery shopping or something and everyone would tend to all my needs giving me back rubs, and a nice cloth on my forehead asking if I’m all right. I definitely watch too many movies. People probably would have thought I peed my pants instead and I would have had to leave the store in shame.
Anyway, back on track here. After pushing for fifteen minutes (instead of the 1-2 hours they had expected), telling the nurses in (what I like to believe was) a kind soft voice that I couldn’t do it, and my doctor almost missing the actual birth, I delivered a healthy 6lb 7.5oz baby boy named Dexter. When I asked them how much he weighed the second he was pushed out of my birth canal I was surprised the doctor didn’t know yet. I had imagined she had delivered so many babies she could just tell me by holding him up, like a magical wizard. My second question was “Did I poop?” This is also something many women fear. I didn’t. I told myself throughout my pregnancy I was going to poop and I learned to accept it. Turns out, I never did. Wow! What a fantastic experience I just had! I managed to do this without an epidural, I didn’t poop on the bed and I have an adorable baby boy. It was turning out to be a great day.
I woke Jeremie up at 3, we got checked into the hospital at 4, and I had given birth at 7:19am. I might have to worry for my future labours because they say the first one is always the longest. Maybe Jeremie should brush up on how to deliver babies just in case the next one does come quicker.
