birth · 1 February 2010, 16:40
I wrote two different accounts of labor & delivery, and people can choose to read whichever one they prefer: the short version, and the possibly-too-much-detail birth junkie version.
Here’s the short version:
Joshua was born one week ago, at 9:51 a.m. Monday, January 25, 2010. It was a pretty quick waterbirth, attended by the same certified nurse-midwife (CNM) who attended Caleb’s birth. He looks a lot like Caleb. I’m feeling great, since I got to keep most of my blood this time (in stark contrast to last time).
Here’s the longer version, if you wanted more detail:
Wow. So this is what it’s like to not have tons of blood loss during birth. I feel pretty good! I am, of course, tired and need lots of sleep, but I am not, for example, crawling on the floor to get to the bathroom, or walking but holding onto every solid object along the way. I’ve even changed lots of diapers! Last time I didn’t change any diapers until the Friday after Caleb was born (which was a Monday), and even that was quite difficult.
Interestingly, with both Caleb and Joshua, labor started around 1:00 a.m. on a Sunday night/Monday morning. This time, though, I hadn’t gone to bed yet. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have woken up for a little while. Since my midwife told me to call much sooner this time, I timed them for a while, and then called her around 2:00 in the morning. We talked, and I called back periodically to let her know how things were. I did get some sleep between 2:30 and 4:30, so that was good. I needed it.
We started filling the rented waterbirth tub around 5:00 a.m.; the midwife got here around 6 am. This time, there was plenty of time to inject me with antibiotics for Group Beta Strep (I tested positive again). Then she dozed upstairs while I quietly labored in the living room. Clint dozed on the couch nearby. I could feel it picking up a bit, so at 8:00 I had Clint get Caleb up and take him to a friends’ house for the day. This time, as last time, labor picked up in intensity again when Clint came back (last time it was when Clint came home from work). I heard the garage door opening, and it was immediately worse.
Not too long afterward, probably around 9:00 or so, I got to get in the warm waterbirth tub. This is the one we rented. Nice and roomy and deep. I was quite happy about this. Almost too happy — the midwife was pondering making me get out because contractions began to space further apart. The thing that kept her from making me was that contractions were still increasing in intensity. The funny thing about contractions is that, in between contractions, it’s like the contraction never happened and you feel completely normal (at least early on). In fact, the midwife commented that I was a bit too happy between contractions, and that it would probably be a little while. I would finish a contraction, and then join right back into the conversation.
I don’t remember exactly when, but at some point not too long afterward, I was no longer happy between contractions, and it was really irritating to me that conversation was being carried on during my contractions. I was thinking in my head, “You guys! Shut up!” I didn’t say it, though; I just yelled louder so I wouldn’t have to hear them. And somewhere in there, I commented that I was no longer happy between contractions. In retrospect, this was probably the stage known as Transition (this comes right before you get to push). I didn’t know it, and neither did anyone else, because during transition last time I was extraordinarily angry, and also thinking the stereotypical transition-y thoughts of “I can’t do this” and “Where are the drugs?” In fact, shortly before I ceased to be happy between contractions, I was wondering to myself, “I wonder when I’ll think about drugs, and not being able to do this. What will I be angry about this time?”
Well, none of those things happened, just not being happy anymore, and irritation that people were talking around me. Oh, and feeling like my insides were coming apart — but that goes without saying. Then, next thing I knew, I felt like pushing, which of course my midwife picked up on. Clint held my hands while I pushed.
Something I hadn’t really thought about, in preparing for this birth, is that when people talk of pushing for a shorter period of time, it’s not actually easier. It’s quite different. Caleb took two hours of pushing to come out. A baby who only takes ten minutes of pushing still has to travel that same distance, which means that those ten minutes of pushing are quite intense to be propelling the baby that far, that fast. With two hours of pushing, one wouldn’t feel a ton of progress from one push to the next. Everything went so slowly and steadily, up until the end. Having the baby move so fast this time was a shock.
The head came out, and in my mind, I was done. I sort of expected the rest of the baby to come out right away, but I still had to push his chest out, and I really didn’t want to. The contraction came, though, so I had to push with it, and then the legs came slipping out. Joshua was put in my arms, and when he came out of the water, he let out one good squawk, and was done. Caleb, on the other hand, cried a steady “waa waa waa” for a while. Waterbirthed babies, from what I hear, are often more peaceful. So we got to enjoy sitting in the water for a while. Clint and I got to feel the cord pulsing, and then Clint got to cut the cord (he didn’t get to do this last time, as things were a bit hectic).
They had me get out of the tub before the placenta came, and there was very little blood with it. Yay!
Joshua nursed really well — I didn’t feel like I really had to do anything to help him figure things out at all. After weighing and measuring him, they helped us get upstairs and into bed for a nice long nap.
Clint picked Caleb up from our friends’ house that evening, and we videoed the meeting of the brothers. Caleb liked looking at him, and showed off for him by bouncing on the bed.
— Jennifer
Comment
Commenting is closed for this article.