That Time I Gave Birth

Back in November, I gave birth to my daughter, Samantha. She was two months premature but is doing well now.

On November 18th, I arrived home from work and had ordered some pasta from Amici’s pizza for Evan and myself. After I had finished my dinner (but before he ate his), I felt a sudden gush coming out from “down there” and ran to the bathroom to scope out the situation.

Yup, I was soaked. I opened the bathroom door to ask Evan to get me my phone so that I can call the hospital. We attended our first childbirth class the day before where they had us put Labor and Delivery into our phone. At first, the lady on the phone was joyful because she didn’t know I was only 32 weeks pregnant but once we got down to details, she said I should come in since it’s premature. It was odd that I didn’t feel contractions before my water breaking.

So we start getting ready to go the the hospital. I ran upstairs to change my clothes. Evan grabbed some towels for the car and then we were on our way. The whole time on the way to the hospital and despite the continuous gushing, I didn’t want to believe that I was going into labor. I kept telling myself and Evan that we’ll probably get to the hospital and they’ll tell us I just peed my pants. Peeing your pants happens when you’re pregnant but usually not to such a great amount. I was in denial though.

Once we got into to the hospital, Evan wheelchaired me into Labor and Delivery where I got hooked up to the machines. I quickly figured out what each line on the monitors meant. The nurse did a swab to see if it was amniotic fluid coming out. She returned and said that it didn’t seem like it but they were going to do a physical exam to double check. The midwife came in to start the exam and suddenly another gush came out (probably all over her hand).

“Yup, your water is definitely broken,” she said. She didn’t even proceed with the exam after that.

I started to get a bit scared when she started to talk to me about the “what ifs” and all the scenarios that could play out. Nevermind the short notice that I was likely going to have my baby in less than 24 hours. The first thing she said was that she didn’t want to check my cervix as that could introduce infections. If I started to show signs of pre-eclampsia or if the baby became distressed, we would need a c-section. They were going to put me on antibiotics since when your water breaks, the chances of infection goes up. However, the antibiotics could also slow down the labor. Other than that, it was a wait and see.

My immediate thoughts and feelings were would the baby survive?

So I was admitted to the hospital and they moved me to a room. The nurse came in to put in an IV which I adamantly said I did not want in my hand. She tried to put it in my wrist and missed the vein. It hurt so bad that I refused to let her try again. Another nurse came in and tried to put it in my forearm. She did me the favor of numbing up the area. She also managed to miss the vein but worse yet, she tried to draw blood from it which ended up in bruising. I was furious. I wanted them to put the IV in the crook of my arm but they simply couldn’t due to the movements of labor. My husband eventually convinced me to let them numb my hand and let them put in IV in. I told the nurse she has one chance or else they’re going to have to figure out something else. They got it in but I was still mad over the ordeal.

The contractions over the next couple hours got more painful but bearable. Around midnight, Evan laid down on the couch to get some rest since I wasn’t in a huge amount of pain. He said if I needed him, just throw my phone at him to wake him. I kept this in mind.

Over the next few hours, I felt more and more pain. The idea that contractions would be rhythmic and that you could time it was not the case in my situation. Mine were frequent but also sporadic. Sometimes I would have them every two minutes and other times I could go five minutes without any contractions and sometimes they would continuously come one after another. Without checking my cervix, the doctors didn’t know if I was really in labor or not. They told me to speak up when I wanted pain medication and that they would have to check my cervix at that point.

As the pain increased, I wanted Evan by my side. I called out his name and tried to wake him to no success. I contemplated throwing my phone at him but thought once I threw it, I wouldn’t have any other way to wake him up AND I wouldn’t have a phone to distract me (as if my phone was enough to distract me from the immense pain). Eventually, the nurse came in and I told her I was ready for medication. She went and got the midwife who then checked my cervix

Checking of the cervix was the most uncomfortable, painful and unpleasant thing I’ve ever experience second to childbirth. After some amount of time, the midwife popped her head up and said I was 6cm dilated. She told me that at this point, given the baby was premature and definitely on her way out, I shouldn’t take IV pain meds because it would make baby drowsy and it’s best to have the baby as awake as possible when she’s out. She recommended I just get an epidural. I told her I just needed some time to talk to my husband about it first and to process it. I asked her to wake up Evan (I ended up throwing my phone at him and it didn’t wake or stir him).

Around an hour later, the epidural was in. It takes about 10–15 minutes for the effects to kick in. As the contractions progressed, I realized it only took effect on the right side of my body and that my left side was still in immense pain. They tried to roll me over since the medication works on gravity. It didn’t work to say the least.

I was clutching the side of the bed when I suddenly felt immense pressure in my butt. I yelled that I really needed to take a poop repeatedly. The midwife said “That’s not poop. That’s your baby’s head. If you push, sometimes that’ll relieve the pressure” to which I yelled “I AM PUSHING!” At that point, my thoughts were “If I shit the bed, I better not hear about it.”

They had to call the anesthesiologist back in to give me a stronger drug at which point they had to check my cervix again. I yelled and screamed and begged them to stop because of all the pain. When she finally did, she was like “Okay, you’re at a 10” and it finally felt like things got going with the doctors and nurse. Before that, I felt like everyone was just taking their time and a bit too comfortable (probably because of the massive level of uncomfortable I was feeling).

It took a while to get the pushing right. They told me when I felt a contraction to lift my legs up. I was getting more agitated and angry as labor progressed. The nurse kept pushing down on the heart monitor to check the baby but made me more angry. At one point, I just told everyone to shut up because I felt like they were all talking to me at once. Eventually, I told them that lifting my legs while pushing isn’t working at all so then they let me push without lifting.

At the last 3 contractions, the stronger drug finally kicked in and I made serious progress. The final push was arguably the longest but easiest yet most painful but the most relieving as the baby was finally out. They laid her on me for a couple minutes. I was speechless for a moment and all I ended up saying was “You’re early!”

They cleaned her up and wheeled her off the the NICU. I was left in the room to get stitched up and recover for the next 2 hours (which was the hardest two hours of my life). Eventually, they got me on my feet which weren’t numb but I was on the slow side because I was afraid moving too fast would cause pain.

From there, the next 3 weeks I spent in the NICU with my new daughter. But that’s a story for another time. The moral of this story is that sure, a childbirth class could prepare you for childbirth but it could also go completely opposite of whatever is said in that class. The experience of giving birth isn’t something you could ever imagine.