I had been experiencing increasingly frequent Braxton Hicks contractions for a week and a half before I went into labor.  I often wondered if it was the real thing, but I relied on what my midwife had told me “When it’s the real thing, there will be no doubt about it.”  Even so, I would get excited every time I would go on a walk and the contractions would increase in frequency.  When I lost the mucus plug on December 21st I was convinced it would be that day, until I read McCutcheon’s book that said losing the mucus plug was the most uncertain signs of early labor.

By the 26th, I was convinced I would never go into labor,  even though my due date wasn’t until the 28th.  That day I visited Monticello with my family, and felt wonderful despite the hour and a half drive each way and all the walking.  When we got home that night, I went into labor.

My contractions started at 10:30 pm, just as my husband, Brian, turned off the light to go to sleep.  I was fairly certain from the first one that this was the real thing, so I started timing them immediately.  They felt different from Braxton-Hicks contractions, because they did actually hurt a little.  They started out 5 minutes apart, which surprised me.  I had expected them to start much farther apart than that.  At 11 pm, I felt my water break just a little, and hurried to the bathroom.  It was just coming out a little at a time, so if I leaned forward or to the side on the toilet more would come.  I grabbed a towel, and went back to bed, remembering Bradley advice and advice from a friend that if contractions start at night to try to sleep.  Over the next half hour, the contractions became a little more intense, like a stomach cramp, and more of the amniotic fluid leaked out.  After going to the bathroom again at 11:30pm, and getting a rush of fluid, I decided I couldn’t sleep and it was time to wake up my husband, Brian.  He was very excited and called our midwife, Leslie, to warn her that I was in labor even though we weren’t coming in for a while.  When she talked to me, I told her my symptoms and she warned me that since my water had broken, the contractions were likely to become much more intense very quickly since that usually sends women into active labor.  She said that was the most difficult stage for most women to get past without drugs.  At the end of the conversation, she asked if I had had a contraction since being on the phone, and I said yes.  They were still not strong enough for me to need to make noise, so she couldn’t tell.

After setting me up with water, ginger ale (at Leslie’s instructions), and my mother-in-law, Brian went to pack up the car leaving me to walk around the pool table.  My contractions were becoming much more intense, and I found that standing was my favorite way to take them.  I spent about an hour walking around the pool table, then I went in to take a shower to try to relax more and to get cleaned up.  I was able to blow dry my hair, but when we timed the contractions, they were less than two minutes apart!  We didn’t know what to do, because I was still at the excited emotional signpost but the contractions were awfully close.  We decided we had better go to the hospital, even if that meant being there for too long.  Brian told his parents to get to the hospital around 4:30 am.  As we drove out of the driveway at 1:30 am, Brian had left the back door to the car open, and I bust a gut laughing.  I felt like a bad Bradley student, but didn’t know what else to do.

As it turned out it was a good thing that we left when we did.  By the time we got up to the maternity ward, I was very serious about having a baby and being on the external fetal monitor felt like torture.  The nurse asked me questions and made me sign forms, even though we were pre-registered and I was in no condition to be signing anything.  As soon as I was done on the monitor, Leslie came in and checked me.  I was dilated 7 cm, was 100% effaced, and the baby was in a +1 station!  I rolled out of bed and immediately went to the toilet.  I had found on the car ride that I had an easy time relaxing my shoulders and back when I was sitting.  Leslie advised that I sit backwards on the toilet, which I did, then she left us to it.  She said we looked like we were doing fine and waited for us in the room for whenever we needed help.   I really started to enter a fog at that point, and was just focusing on relaxing, making low noises, and resting.  After a while I had had enough of the toilet, and decided I wanted to lie on my side on the bed.  Even now, I’m a little surprised that I wanted to lie down, because it wasn’t anything I had planned on doing, but it felt good in the moment.

Early into my time on the bed, I entered transition.  The contractions were very intense, and it was impossible to relax though I kept making low noises in my throat.  I even gripped the rail of the bed in the middle of a contraction.  Somehow, I did sleep in between almost every contraction.  I thought about medication, but didn’t dream of asking for it.  During each contraction, I lived for the moment it would be over and I could rest.  I also knew that the whole thing would be over soon.  Instead of expressing transition feelings by asking for drugs, I was scared of pushing.  I was absolutely terrified. 

I knew the moment I was dilated to 10 cm, because my body wanted to push.  I felt too tired and too scared to, and I told Leslie that.  She assured me that it would feel better to push, and she helped me into a sitting squat position.  I think that was at around 4 am.  It took a few contractions until I was finally in the position and starting to push, and she was right, it hurt less to push.  I was not trying very hard because I was scared and didn’t know exactly what to do. I could tell she was getting frustrated with how I was pushing.  She had warned me that if she felt I needed to change positions during pushing that she would make me move, so when she told me we were getting on the birthing stool I didn’t complain but I didn’t help.  She, Brian, and my mom, who had come in and sat in the room while I was in transition, dragged me off the bed and onto the birthing stool.  I started out leaning forward and elevating myself onto my heels, but there was no way the baby was coming like that.  She would not get past my pubic bone.  Gradually, Leslie convinced me to lean back on the stool into Brian and push towards her (she was sitting on the floor in front of me).  I could tell we were making progress then, because it didn’t hurt hardly at all during contractions, but it hurt a lot in between.  I would hold my breath and push then pant in between contractions.  It made me really light headed, so they encouraged me to slow down my breathing in between.  As the baby got closer, they brought a mirror but I didn’t want to see.  I had hardly opened my eyes at all since we had gotten to the hospital.  Before one contraction, I opened my eyes and saw that they had brought the baby warmer and other equipment in, and I got really excited.  I kept telling myself that I wanted the baby to come soon so I wouldn’t be scared of pushing her out.  From when she started crowning to when she came out was only 4 or 5 contractions and it hurt a lot.  I got a second degree tear, which burned and hurt but the hot compresses Leslie was using helped a lot.  Once the head was out, she made me stop pushing until the next one so they could suction the baby’s mouth out and that was the worst pain of the whole thing -  waiting with the baby’s head out in between contractions.  Finally, the next contraction came and she came out.  She was covered in vernix and screaming.  I couldn’t believe how small she was, which shocked the nurses.  She was eight and a half pounds!  Up until the last few pushes I was wearing a night gown, more because I had forgotten to take it off than out of modesty.  But when I realized the baby was coming soon, I took if off, since I wanted her on my chest.  They put her on my chest and waited until the cord had stopped pulsing before they cut it.  The placenta came out, it seemed, without any more contractions and it was huge!  I couldn’t believe that it and the baby had been inside of me!  They took the baby pretty quickly, because I was bleeding a lot and Leslie wanted to stitch me up. 

That began the worst part.  I had a strange tear -  not too deep but gaping and I was bleeding from my uterus a lot so Leslie couldn’t see what was coming from the tear.  I had several shots of Lidocaine, which was very painful and the repair was hard because my knees were shaking so badly, it was cold, and I felt unprepared.  Leslie worked on me for an hour, then another doctor came in later and worked on me for a few more minutes.  I didn’t get to see the baby much after they took her off my chest, but I was too tired and sick to care.  I did get to nurse her a few times in the next three hours while she was still so alert, and I was glad for that, but I felt like I had been hit by a truck and was grateful for the time she was in the nursery.  I began to feel a lot better by the end of the day and got to enjoy her more. 

I’m so glad I got to deliver without drugs.  I felt very strong, in fact, that was the most encouraging thing my birth attendants kept telling me, “You’re very strong, you can do this.”  I think it also helped eliminate any kind of initial nursing problems.  Reese seemed to know how to nurse all on her own, I just had to get her in the right position.  Other than my tear, my recovery has been pretty easy and quick.  Giving birth with a midwife was just wonderful too.  The care she provided before, during, and after the birth was incomparable.  I felt like her only patient.  She respected my need to have Brian with me constantly, gave us space when we didn’t need help, but she was forceful when I needed it.  The birth was a great experience.

I was on the phone with a friend on Tuesday, September 19^th around 9pm. I stood up after the call ended and felt a little gush of fluid. Nothing huge, but big enough for me to take notice. At 38 ½ weeks, I excitedly hoped this could be it, but since this was my first baby I wasn’t sure. I called my midwife who said it was likely urine (even though it didn’t smell like urine) or a pocket of fluid. She thought it probably wasn’t my bag of waters. Overnight I had irregular, mild contractions. Enough to keep me from sleeping well, but by morning they had stopped.

Wednesday morning 9/20, my husband went into work. I worked from my home office but called my boss, telling her that I thought things were happening and told her I wouldn’t be working that afternoon. I had some irregular contractions that morning, but no real labor pattern. I still had a small trickle of fluid. After lunch, I took a couple long walks around my neighborhood to try and get contractions going. By 1:00, the leak of fluid was pretty regular but I was still without a true labor pattern.

I checked in with my midwife later in the afternoon who suggested I go to triage at the hospital to have them confirm if it was my amniotic fluid leaking. Jim suggested we go out to dinner first, in case they decided to admit me, and then at least I would have a good meal in me. (He actually remembered that from our Bradley classes). I decided on Thai food hoping the spices would kick things into gear. No luck.

We went to the hospital around 8 pm on Wednesday, where the midwife on call confirmed that I was leaking amniotic fluid and checked my cervix – I was 2 cm dilated. When asked when my water broke, I fibbed and said I couldn’t remember exactly. When asked when I noticed a constant leak, I told the truth – around 1 pm. They offered to admit me at that time, but I wanted to go home and try some other methods to get labor to start, so I declined. I was told to come back at 1:00 am for induction.

My spirits were crushed at this point. I had wanted an unmedicated birth experience and didn’t believe that would be possible with Pitocin. So I called my friends who all lit the candles they received at my blessingway and ask that they start to pray. I hooked myself up to the breast pump hoping the release of oxcytocin would get contractions going. I spoke with my doula who suggested taking castor oil if the nipple stimulation didn’t work. I took a “shot” of castor oil around 10:00 pm and tried to get some sleep before heading in. Sleep alluded me though, not because of contractions, but because I was worried about the possibility of Pitocin.

As we were getting in the car to head in for induction, I felt that my castor oil might be kicking in and made a trip to the bathroom. And wouldn’t you know, we weren’t even out of our driveway when mild contractions started coming 5 minutes apart! When we got to the hospital, my friend and midwife Cheyenne greeted us. I trust her completely and was so thankful she agreed to attend my birth. The doula also met us there. I was only 3 cm when I checked in, but because contractions had become regular Cheyenne was comfortable not giving me Pitocin. So we walked and walked and walked the halls some more, trying to keep contractions coming. They were mild at this point and I could still talk through them.

Around 4 am, I tried to lie down and get some rest but this caused contractions to nearly stop. The nurse came in and said, “Cheyenne is thinking about giving you some Pitocin to get things going.” Upon sensing the threat of pit, my body and the baby were moved into action! Contractions started up again, at a higher intensity. I ate some fruit and listened to my labor music. As things got more intense, I moved to the birthing ball and the nurse monitored fetal heart tones with the doppler. The nurse hooked up my antibiotics (since my water had been broken for so long) and I had a cervical check. I was about 7cm.

Things were pretty stable and my husband went down to get some coffee around 6:30 am. While he was gone, my doula suggested I might enjoy a hot shower, so the nurse went to warm it up. All of a sudden, I had an urge to sit on the toilet. Not to use the bathroom, but to SIT ON THE TOILET – it was the only thing I wanted to do. As I was sitting, a huge gush of water filled the pot. The bag of water between the baby’s head and my cervix broke. Still wearing my street clothes at that point, I became very hot, agitated and felt confined around my neck. Sitting on the toilet and stripping my clothes off, I saw my midwife out of the corner of my eye – she was grinning ear to ear and gave two big thumbs up to my doula out in the room. Intellectually, I knew that I was heading into transition and my loosing modesty was a good thing. But I found my midwife’s enthusiasm about my current state quiet annoying at the time.

And then it gets a bit blurry from here on out. As I walked back to the bed, I had intense contractions with every step. The nurse told me the shower was ready but there was no way I could walk that far, so I collapsed onto the bed. My husband was back now and sat next to the bed, stroking my arm, telling me what a great job I was doing. I remember the doula rubbing my feet. I felt hot and dizzy and I saw Cheyenne reach for the emesis basin – “Why is she doing that?” I wondered. And seconds later, I vomited.

Contractions were very intense and coming one right after the other with very little rest between. I was exhausted. The pain was intense. I was dizzy. This was not like anything I ever imagined. There was no way I could take any more. I would look at Jim and say, “I can’t do this!” to which he responded, “You ARE doing it!” Jim led me through a guided imagery that helped me focus on the task, relax and open up.

Then I felt downward pressure and the urge to push. Cheyenne had left the room to check on another birthing mom. I remember sitting up, very seriously, and asking “Okay, what is going on? What are we doing? “My doula asked, “Do you feel like pushing?” Lying on my left side, I started pushing. At some point, Cheyenne returns. I pushed for about 45 minutes and experienced the “ring of fire” as described. It took every ounce of energy I had. Some people say pushing is a great relief. I think those people are nuts. It was intense, hard work!

 At 10:46 am, September 21, 2006, my world forever changed and I started the journey of a lifetime – motherhood. I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Margaret Grace weighed 8 lbs 12 oz and was 21 ¾ inches long. She was immediately placed on my chest where she promptly peed all over me! She had a head of thick black hair, a thick coat of vernix, her eyes were shut tight and she wailed. We were covered in warm towels and snuggled up together – tears running down my husband’s nose and sweat running down my cheeks – we were a family!