Preparation:
I had read and re-read the Bradley book for information on different positions to help labor progress, and asked several friends for their advice to be as prepared as I could to make the transition period as simple as possible. I had no illusions it would be pain free or really easy, but also knew experience had to count for something, and valued those who shared with me. I went into childbirth feeling really well prepared, and adding Rachel's experience with her own NCB, plus her training, and assistance with many other moms' births, truly did make it a great, not-awful-at-all, part of labor. Yes, it was intense at times, but I don't think I ever even second-guessed what we were doing. I could tell that the comforting methods we were using were really helping, I had wonderful emotional support, I was so motivated and excited that we were close to meeting Owen face-to-face, that it really all seemed to move quickly and though there were moments of great physical pressure, it wasn't excruciating, and didn't cause me to even cry, scream, or feel out of control. It always seemed manageable, which means we worked well together to stay on top of the contractions and my Mom, James, and Rachel were the key to that happening. I kept remembering my wise friend Joy's words that, "Every contraction you have is one less you still have to experience," which sounds simplistic, but really helped me. Knowing each one got me closer to seeing Owen, and was one more step accomplished was very gratifying.
My mindset:
I keep pondering how to describe the emotions I felt through those last few hours of Owen's labor. It was a very surreal time. I felt so many different physical sensations, but I had this mental/emotional focus I can't compare to anything else in my life. I know that I kept my eyes closed for most of the labor, from the first moments at home, till right at the end, with only brief minutes glancing at anyone. It wasn't intentional, but I guess I felt like I was in my own world of working and concentration, and just couldn't care about anything else happening around me. I hardly knew any conversations were going on, or that Alli was taking photos, or anything. I can probably compare it closest to that feeling when I've been at the beach, and get on a snorkel and mask, to float in the shallow end of the ocean, looking at fish and seashells. It's a very calming atmosphere, and though I am floating and being splashed some in the waves, and can hear sounds of my family around me, they are muffled and distant. That is really how transition seemed. I wasn't out of it and knew who was there and that there were things going on, but I was so attuned to feeling everything progressing, and wanting to just soak it in, that I could somehow block out those distractions. It was odd, and really beautiful. I have said repeatedly that the birth was peaceful, and though I know I moaned a lot and was sweating with exertion, it wasn't stressful or scary. Another neat thing I noticed, was even when contractions were long, and very close together, every minute or so, there would occasionally be a little break - just enough extra space in between to catch a breath and just rest for a few more seconds. I hadn't expected that, and it was such sweet relief everytime I noticed it occurred.
The transition:
I did try several positions at the hospital, including lying on my side first, then we labored some on the toilet to ease up on the pressure I felt, then I used the birth ball, and finally faced the front of the bed and leaned over on pillows. Within the hour of moving to the front of the bed, I was checked and at 10 cm, fully effaced, and Owen had dropped again to +1! I was so happy things were going so well. Rachel and Dr. Mc both encouraged me that if I'd get in a squat position, it wouldn't be long at all till Owen would be fully engaged. I remember whining about that a bit, but knew they were right, though I think I told them they'd have to get me in position, because I was so tired and just didn't think I could do it alone. Plus, I loved leaning over on the raised head of the bed on those pillows, and my Mom was massaging and applying pressure along with Rachel, on my back and hips, and James was encouraging me with verses I'd written down to be read to me, and I just didn't want to move from that position! I told them later, that I felt bossy, because all I verbalized that entire time seemed to be orders to Mom, James, and Rachel - "Higher," "Lower," "Harder," and "Squeeze!" They never complained, and worked so hard, and the relief I felt from the acupressure was tremendous!
Of course, the experts were right, they all did help me move, and within 20 minutes of getting to the squat bar, I was having overwhelming urges to push and bear down, without even meaning to do so. I knew that I felt a burning sensation and told James that I needed to have downloaded Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" for this moment, though he'd discouraged me when I had suggested this a few days prior, and Rachel thought I was crazy. ;-) Then, I heard the wonderful words that they could see Owen's head, and I just wanted to cry from joy! I was thrilled! Dr. Mc came back in, said we should move to a sitting position, and they adjust the lower part of the bed so I was basically sitting like in a chair, and could push down with my feet for leverage. Dr. Mc slowly and reassuringly encouraged me as I pushed, never telling me what to do, just praising me that I was doing well, and to keep pushing as I needed. Rachel asked for a mirror so I could actually open my eyes and see something, and when I did look (after initially reacting with "That is just freaky!"), I did almost cry, realizing I was seeing the first glimpse of our little boy. I was more motivated than ever, and even when I felt like we weren't making much progress with every single effort, Rachel kept saying I was, and reminding me to look and notice how much more of him I could see. I only had to push about 10 minutes, and was so grateful when Owen's head was finally out. What relief and excitement!
Dr. Mc had asked James to gown up and had offered and already walked him through how he was going to let James deliver Owen. They were all prepared for James to do the next steps of catching him, which we hadn't planned on, but were very pleased that the doctor suggested it. However, it became obvious immediately that we were dealing with shoulder dystocia. Owen was stuck and no pushing worked then. Dr. Mc quickly said, "I'm going to have to do this," to James, who happily stepped to the side. Dr. Mc kindly and very seriously looked up and said, "Jennifer, look at me. I need you to push this baby out, and you need to really take a deep breath and we're going to have to work quickly. He needs to come out." I just nodded, and he said he would count and then I needed to push. He counted to three, I pushed, and not a thing happened. He then said, very firmly, "Jenn, you gotta give me all you have. Right now." I said, "I already have! YOU get him out!" He said I had to, and I could do it, but that we needed to hurry up. Mom and Rachel helped me sit up more, the nurses got on either side of me, and he said he'd count again, and I needed to push as long and hard as I could and not stop till he told me. I took a huge breath, he counted, and we pushed. Nurses pushed on me, I pushed, he pulled, and after one shoulder came free, the next one stuck. James said it was hard watching as he carefully, but firmly held Owen's head, and one shoulder, and with great force, pulled him out. As they lifted him up, and I collapsed back on the bed, I saw how very dark bluish purple his head was, and knew it had been a serious moment. Though it lasted only seconds, and I didn't know exactly what was happening, I'm grateful that the atmosphere remained calm and the doctor was able to get Owen out safely. I wish that it had been a little less intense, but it really was so fast and I don't have regrets because he was just fine. He again lived up to the meaning of his name, which means "mighty warrior." This little one had to prove from the beginning with that first ultrasound until the final moments of his entrance into the world that he was a fighter, and I just love how fitting his name is.
Owen Thomas Vines was born at 7:25 am. We had been at the hospital less than three hours when we were holding our baby boy!
No comments:
Post a Comment