Desmond's Birth Story

In the last few weeks of his time inside of me, there was a lot of pressure on both me and my son. Although I had kept my gestational diabetes under perfect control throughout the pregnancy, being labeled as "diseased" meant that the gears of modern medicine would continue to turn, requiring us to undergo weekly ultrasounds and fetal heart rate monitoring just to make sure "everything is alright." Even though the doctor admitted that if he grew to be large, it was "physiologic" and not related to my diabetes. Even though ultrasounds can be up to a pound off in weight estimates. Even though fetal heart rate monitoring is not diagnostically useful unless there is a high probability of something being wrong. Without the label, we would not be subjected to these tests and the inherent risk of having a false positive abnormal result. I kept thinking, "I hope he just gets born, before anyone starts messing with us."

On top of that, my brother and I had both come early (four weeks and 10 days respectively), so my mother had me convinced that Des would be early too. She took the week off two weeks before his due date and came down to be with me. She drove me to my numerous appointments and was on-call in case of labor. Her birthday was 10 days before Des's due date, and when her birthday, and the whole week, came and went, she was disappointed and had to go back home. My husband had taken 3 weeks vacation, starting the week before Des's due date, and by Tuesday we were starting to worry that we would waste his entire time off sitting home and staring at my belly. I tickled his feet when I felt them pushing out against me. I walked up and down the stairs. I walked outside, despite the cold. I was getting anxious.

Then it occurred to me that this wasn't fair. Poor Des; he wasn't even due to be born yet, and here we all were with all of this pressure. I whispered to my belly, "It's ok little bean. You come out just when you are ready and not one minute before." On Tuesday night I decided to watch one the Lord of the Rings movies. My mother had read the books to us when we were little, so it's always been a comfort to me, even though it's a little cliche. I thought it might help Des to feel safe to come out.

My anxiety must have transmitted to him, because when he decided to start coming, in the wee hours of the next morning, my labor and delivery were precipitous. He was in a hurry to get out. I went to bed at my usual time around 10 pm. I fell asleep immediately, and woke up around 12:30 to use the bathroom. The first contraction that I felt was at about 1:00, although I suspect I had one at 12:30 that woke me, but I don't remember. I could tell that the quality of the contraction was different, but I was hesitant to wake my husband, since I had been having Braxton-Hicks contractions for two weeks and already had at least one false alarm. So I waited a bit, planing on putting the movie back on for a while. The contractions started coming 20 minutes apart, so I woke my husband. We timed them together for a while. They were definitely stronger than before. I ate some chicken soup and drank Gatorade as the Lamaze teacher had instructed. I decided to take a warm shower, both to clean up a little and to relax. When I got back upstairs, the contractions seemed to be coming very quickly already. I had planned on being in early labor for hours, so I started worrying about what was going on. My water had not broken yet. My husband and I timed contractions again and found that they were one to two minutes apart.

Still, I hesitated to call the midwife, because at this point I had been in labor for less than three hours. I couldn't believe that I would already be in active labor for a first baby. I knew the midwife would doubt it too. But since the contractions were coming so quickly and we lived so far away and I needed the antibiotics to get in for the GBS, I decided to give her a call.

There are three midwives in the practice, and I was disappointed that my least favorite of them answered the phone. I always had trouble communicating with her. As predicted, she doubted that I was in active labor, and suggested that I take a warm bath to slow things down. It was now about 4:00 in the morning, and my contractions had been coming at 2 minutes apart for about three quarters of an hour. I felt like my labor was progressing, but knowing how unlikely it was for such a fast labor in a first pregnancy, I doubted myself as well. We decided to give the bath a try.

Now, it was February 23rd and very cold out. Although I had turned the heat back on when I got up in the middle of the night, it was still quite cool in our house. We had moved here only 1 and a half years ago, and I had never actually used the tub before. The first thing we discovered was that the stopper did not fit in the drain. No way to fill the tub. Huh. So my husband had the idea to put a small bowl over it to seal the drain. This worked until enough water filled the tub to make the bowl float. Next he went and got a paperweight to place on the bowl to keep it in place. This worked marginally well, and at least the water drained slower than it filled, so we were finally able to fill the tub. By this time I was considerably uncomfortable as I awkwardly slid in. The next thing we discovered is that the tub is abnormally small. I was barely submerged with my belly bulging well above the water line. Then the hot water ran out. This was not relaxing. I got out, now shivering and shaking, naked and wet, wrapped in a towel. Now I had to get dressed again - quickly.

It was now about 5:00 in the morning. My contractions came hard and fast. I called the midwife again and basically told her that I was coming in. She was not happy about it, and assured me that they would find me to be dilated one centimeter or less and send me home. Well, so be it. I was downright in pain and a little bit scared. Could there be something wrong? This was not at all how things were supposed to go! I was supposed to walk around in early labor for hours, doing breathing exercises that we learned in Lamaze class. My husband was supposed to hold me and massage my back while we waited for active labor to begin. Why were the contractions coming so fast and strong? Why did it hurt so much already? My head started listing things learned in medical school; placental abruption, uterine rupture...I knew I didn't have those things, but I felt like something was wrong.

We got into the car in the cold dark morning. I called my mother, who was three hours away. I was only able to get out, "Lots of contractions, come now." We flew down the empty highways into the city. The trip, which was much faster than usual at this hour, seemed endless to me. We found parking about a block from the hospital entrance. When I was just a few yards from the door, my water broke. My legs were instantly freezing from the liquid hitting the cold air. I waddled into the hospital lobby, which had thankfully just opened at 6:00 am so we didn't have to walk around to the emergency entrance.

We made our way slowly up to the 11th floor birthing center. The hallways were dark and empty as we walked through the high-risk ultrasound suite that I had frequented so many times in the weeks before. The doors to the birthing center were closed. I could see a nurse inside, and we rang the bell and knocked on the door. She was slow to respond. When she finally poked her head out, she explained that she couldn't open the birthing center since we were the only ones there and the midwife had yet to arrive. She couldn't have me in there without a doctor or midwife for legal reasons. I nodded and told my husband to get me a chair. I was grateful to hear that the midwives had changed shifts, and my favorite one was on her way from New Jersey and was 10 minutes away. We sat outside the door. As the nurse was talking to us, I vomited chicken soup and pink Gatorade all over the birthing center door. Luckily the midwife appeared shortly.

The next part is a blur. I assume the nurse started my IV for the antibiotics and somehow got me into the bed and undressed, but I don't remember. Similarly, I remember being put in a warm bath by the midwife, but I don't remember whether that was before or after my mother arrived. I assume it was before. By the time my mom came at 8:30, I was well into transition, although I didn't realize it. I had intense pain that didn't let up between contractions. I was leaning over a large wedge pillow in the bed, and any movement in any direction was unbearable. I began to let out loud moans with each contraction. I was embarrassed, but I was in more pain than I had ever experienced before. Over the next two hours, I was in a haze of pain. I was barely aware of anyone around me. I did notice the nurse and midwife taking turns using the doppler to monitor Desmond's heart rate after each contraction. I remember being very annoyed by this since I had been told that in the birthing center fetal heart rate monitoring was only intermittent, and I hadn't expected them to do it so frequently. I barely suppressed the urge to yell at them, "give it a rest already, would you?!"

I know also that the midwife had me move several times, and I was laboring on the toilet for much of the time, letting gravity help him move down. I became dehydrated and hypoglycemic and tried to drink more Gatorade, but vomited and dry heaved every time I tried to take anything. Luckily I had the IV for the antibiotics and the midwife hung some D5. I remember thinking that it was much more painful than I had anticipated from the reading I had done on natural childbirth. My mother had reported that labor was not much more painful than heavy menstrual cramps, but that is not how I experienced it. I was in near constant pain that didn't change between contractions. At one point, I looked at the midwife and said, "I don't think I can do it." She just nodded and said, "yes you can."

If she had offered me pain medication at that time I would have taken it gladly. But I remembered the Lamaze instructor saying that most women ask for epidurals or pain medication right when labor is almost over anyway. I knew by now that I was in transition and nearing the end, so I didn't ask for anything. I also did NOT want to be transferred to the labor and delivery floor for an epidural since any movement was intensely painful. I don't remember getting back in the bed, but at some point, the midwife examined me and said that I was almost fully dilated. She manually reduced a small lip of cervix that remained over Desmond's head and then said I could start pushing.

I pushed for an eternity. Later I was told that it was more than two hours, but I had no concept of time. I pushed on the toilet, I pushed in the bed. The midwife tried laying me on my side, but it was too painful and I couldn't tolerate it. I liked being on all fours better, but she told me he wasn't moving that way, so I went back on my back. Towards the end, I was too tired to get up to go to the bathroom, so I pushed the rest of the way in the bed. I remember my mother having one leg and my husband holding the other. My husband was getting anxious and pulling on my leg a little too abruptly, so I started telling him to go easy as each contraction came on. At some point I was aware that the midwife had called the ob and was worried that I wouldn't be able to push Des out. I was determined not to have a vacuum extraction or c-section, so I kept pushing as hard as I could, even though my strength was rapidly depleting. I was finally able to take some Gatorade without vomiting, so I drank a lot of it. I remember the midwife telling me how much progress I was making, and I replied, "then why isn't he out yet?!"

Finally I felt some tearing and I knew he was almost there. I felt a tremendous relief from the pain in my lower pelvis as I pushed his head out. Then there was a pause, a little more pain, and out came his shoulders. The midwife told me to pick him up, and I pulled him by the torso onto my belly. I remember thinking how huge he looked! I couldn't believe it! My husband and I just held him there on my belly for a long time. By the time the midwife told him to cut the umbilical cord, I had forgotten that he was still attached! I delivered the placenta shortly after that. The midwife tried showing it to us, but the only person who was interested was my mom. It was a little after 1:00 in the afternoon.

I remember the diabetes nurse coming to get the placenta; I had agreed to donate it for a study on gestational diabetes. Then the midwife called an OB from the labor and delivery floor to repair my tear, since it was a fourth-degree tear and she didn't feel comfortable doing it herself. My mom held Des while I got stitched. Then I got him back for a long time. He breastfed immediately with no trouble at all.

A few hours later, the nurse tried to get me up to pee. I passed out cold on the bathroom floor. Then it was more IV fluids, followed promptly by a lot of peeing in the bedpan.

After just a couple of hours of rest, our friends and family started piling in. First came my husband's parents, then my father and his girlfriend. Then four of our friends. It became crowded, and I kept having to kick everyone out because I had to pee again with all the IV fluids. Finally everyone went home and it was just the three of us.

The first night was also a haze. Des was in the bassinet next to me. He cried often and was not able to latch or nurse. The night nurse was Asian with a very thick accent. She kept saying, "He forgot. He will remember how tomorrow." And she was right. She would swaddle him up nicely and soothe him back to sleep.

The next day was a bustle of tests for him and circumcision. We finally left for home at 5:00 pm with the help of my husband's friend. Since then we have been utterly exhausted, but unbelievably happy to have the healthiest and most beautiful baby boy. The transition from being a couple to being a family has been more fulfilling then I ever imagined.