On Tuesday, September 29th, I attended our next-to-last Bradley class, where we went through a “long labor” scenario—little did I know how prophetic it was.  I had been having uncomfortable cramping all day, and figured it was really early stuff and didn’t get too excited about it.  Wednesday, I woke up with more consistent cramps and decided to go to work.  Why not? Better than lying around the house, hoping for progress.  I cleaned off my desk before I left, pretty sure that things weren’t going to get any more comfortable overnight.  I was right.  I went to bed with Emma and we fell asleep at 10 pm.  As I was going to bed, I told Mike “go to sleep. I think we’ll be up later.”  At 12:15 am, the contractions woke me up.  I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t, so I got up and went downstairs…Mike was still up.  I said the contractions hurt and that maybe he should fill the birth tub.  He was bummed that he hadn’t slept.

I tried to rest on the couch and the recliner, but couldn’t get comfortable.  I had to concentrate through the contractions (which never really seemed to “build”…they just started out with a bang and tapered off, so they were constantly sneaking up on me).  I purposely didn’t time them.  Mike set up the tub and we called our doula, Rebecca P (who had “had a feeling” so was sleeping on her couch).   We agreed to connect in the morning as I felt I was ok without her at that point.  Mike continued to set things up and then went up to nap because Emma was likely to wake up looking for one of us.  He was upstairs from about 5 am to about 8 am.  During that time, I tried to rest, but was extremely uncomfortable and the contractions just kept sneaking up on me.  I only had a digital clock and estimated the contractions at 5-7 minutes apart, lasting approx. a minute.  At some point early in the morning, I vomited, a precursor of what was to come.

About 6 am, I called my mom to come get Emma and our midwife, Jeanne Bazille.  Jeanne had another mom whose water had broken and thought she’d go there first if I didn’t feel like I needed her right away.  I didn’t.  I called Rebecca who started to get ready to come—again, no rush.

When Mike and Emma got up, we timed the contractions at 5 minutes apart and lasting a minute.  My mom showed up for Emma, and Rebecca came around noon.  I couldn’t talk through the contractions, but felt like I was relatively chatty between them.  I wasn’t hungry, but did try to drink water as much as possible.  I started to vomit whatever I ate so we started experimenting with foods that might stay down. Rebecca was a wealth of ideas.  I walked, sat, lay on the couch, stood, sat on the toilet, and climbed stairs.  The tub felt the best of all, and actually helped the contractions space out a tiny bit.

Jeanne came that evening, on her way back from the other birth.  The contractions were intense and coming every 2-4 minutes—still sneaking up on me.  Sometimes I would have two in a row, with no break.  She talked about more techniques to get labor moving with Rebecca and I asked for a cervical check.  She could barely reach my cervix and thought I might be dilated to between 2-4, but wasn’t sure.  I was a little discouraged, but felt like the night would bring a lot of progress.  She left and Rebecca and Mike took turns all night helping me with the contractions and napping.  
Friday morning, Jeanne and her apprentice, Erin both came.  I had continued to vomit, so Jeanne checked my ketones.  The strip was purple—I really needed food and water.  They started an “eat and drink” campaign and the goal was to keep as much in for as long as possible before vomiting.  Between contractions, I had a bite of something and drank water, Emergen-C, whatever they could find.  I was back in the tub in some very deep squat-like positions, trying to get baby to work her way down and the contractions were intense.  Again, they seemed to just keep hitting like a Mack truck without warning and many were “doubles” or even “triples.”  We checked my ketones again and the strip showed only a trace!  Success!

I was exhausted by 2 pm and we decided to see if there had been any progress.  My cervix had come forward and was reachable, but I was still only about 2 cm dilated.  The progress made in about 36 hours of labor, especially the 16 hours since the last check was so minimal, I was very discouraged.  We started to discuss transferring to the hospital while I was still in relatively good shape.  I could get IV fluids and glucose to give me energy.  I was talking about getting an epidural so I could take a nap.  We decided if I waited much longer, any trip to the hospital would be more likely to result in a repeat c-section, so we decided to go.  It was 3 pm on Friday, 39 hours from when I had last slept (for 2 hours).  

We got to the hospital around 4pm and they were ready for us.  They checked me pretty quickly once I got there (my bag of waters was still intact) and we found that the car ride (which was its own hell) had somehow got me dilated to 5cm; we were all very encouraged.  But then the contractions started rolling, one on top of the other.  I quickly lost all ability to focus. We got the IV fluids quite quickly and by the time ½ a bag was in me, I felt a lot better, but the contractions only picked up in intensity.  I was not coping well; mostly due to fatigue.  

The first doctor to come in said that she recommended a repeat c-section.  We disagreed and she called the consulting OB, who came in and said the same thing (during a contraction!).  They started with the drama of my scar thinning and not holding up.  While they didn’t exactly say “exploding uterus” the OB was worried that, if I let things go too far that “there would be nothing left to stitch up (I believe she said “cheesecloth”) when you did need a c-section.”  In my pain and exhaustion, I started to hear “you won’t have a uterus, your baby might be in danger, there will be nothing we can do.”  The doctors left so my team and I could talk. 

We recognized the doctor’s concern, but Mike was insistent that I could do it. Every time I had said I couldn’t do it anymore, I had kept on doing it, and he believed that I could.  He had heard me during our Birthing from Within and Bradley classes saying that I wish I had clearly communicated my birth wishes to him so that he could advocate for me. He had heard me say that my greatest fear was that I would give up and he wouldn’t help me fight.  He saw the depression and trauma over Emma’s birth and was determined that this birth would not be the same.  Between contractions we argued and talked.  He worried that a c-section would mess with my head so badly I’d never be myself again.  I worried that my uterus wouldn’t make it through more labor AND and possible c-section.  Eventually I admitted that I didn’t believe my uterus would explode and that we’d give my body time to work since it was trying to do its job.  He agreed to the epidural so I could rest and take a break.  

The anesthesiologist was great.  The epidural was perfect.  I could feel my feet and even could turn myself over in bed or lift my hips off the bed.  I still felt a lot of back and tailbone pressure and contractions, but I was able to get some rest.  I napped.  When I awoke, I commented on my long nap.  Everyone joked that I had only slept for 45 minutes, but I felt great!  At the time of the epidural, I was dilated to “between 6-7.”

I could feel the baby working its way down.  An hour after the epidural, I was checked again and we were disappointed (but not really shocked) to find no progress, but a bulging bag of waters.  The nurse suggested rupturing my membranes.   Meanwhile, the OB came back in and very brusquely recommended an immediate c-section.  I said that I wanted one more hour to progress and then we would talk.  She asked me “are you declining a c-section against medical advice?”  I said “yes.”  We agreed to rupture the membranes and do internal monitoring. The entire time, the external monitor kept coming off, kept giving really erratic readings, and often someone had to hold it in place.  Even the “good readings” were somewhat alarming to those watching and we wanted to accurately know how baby was holding up to everything (since she’d been working all this time too!).  

The charge nurse came in to break the water and insert the monitors and I turned over.  She started to insert the monitors, thinking the instruments would break the bag and found that my water had broken spontaneously just before that.  The internal monitors showed that baby was fine.  The water was clear and I breathed a sigh of relief that baby was handling the stress well.

An hour later I was dilated to 8 cm and everyone was pleased.  The nurses were very encouraging, telling me I would soon be pushing my baby out.  An hour later, I was complete on the left side (I was lying on my left side) with a lip on the right.  The nurse flipped me to my right side and positioned my left leg up on the table with a pillow.  She called this “the running man” and said that it would help get baby into position.

About 20 minutes later I started to bear down with the contractions.  It took a bit for me to figure out I was pushing and Jeanne asked me “are you pushing”?  I said I thought so and worried about pushing on an incomplete cervix.  She said if my body was doing it, to just let it.  I lay there, pushing and resting for about an hour.  The epidural pump started to beep, notifying us that it was empty.  The nurse had told me I should let her know when I wanted to push.  Eventually she saw that I sort of WAS pushing and asked “are you ready”?  I decided I was.  There was a lot of pressure so I pushed the bolus for the epidural.  The nurse said it was empty and that I could let it just wear off or get more.  My team encouraged me that feeling the pushing would help so I made a decision to just drop the button and get to work.  

A mirror was brought in and the nurse was awesome.  My whole team was there to hold my legs and help me learn how to push, offering a lot of GREAT suggestions.  The nurse was a little worried about the baby’s heartrate and asked me to really push hard, three times with each contraction.  She stood back and watched as Rebecca and Jeanne helped me push and Erin and Mike held my legs. Everyone was cheering and it felt great to push!

They had to call a doctor to “catch” the baby and a very young resident showed up.  I was hoping I could get the baby out for Jeanne to catch, but it didn’t work out.  I loved watching my baby crown!  Everyone was encouraging me to push slowly as she crowned but it was like a Mack truck screaming through my body just pushing her out!  Her head was born and her shoulders slid right out in the same contraction.  As they placed her on me, I was in awe…I had DONE IT!  I had birthed my baby vaginally!!!  I wasn’t broken.  

She looked like Emma when she came out.  Everyone was rubbing her and the doctor was pushing my belly to get the placenta out and Rebecca reminded me to feel the pulsing of the cord.  It was kind of crazy.  The nurse, who had requested my birth plan, and apparently, read it, reminded the dr. not to cut the cord right away and knew all of my wishes.  They didn’t take her away for an hour and half, then took her only to another corner of the room to weigh/measure her while I took a quick bath.

Hannah was born at St. John’s at 2:15 am on October 3, 2009 after 50 hours of labor (one hour of active pushing).  She is beautiful and healthy and has already helped me to heal from the previous c-section.  I would never have made it through the entire process without my wonderful team, who coached and loved and supported (and FED) me and helped me to make some really hard decisions when I was in a lot of pain!  I mostly thank Mike for believing in me and believing I wasn’t broken.  I am so proud of him for helping me see that I could do it.  I’m proud of me and so proud to say I CAN (thanks to the International Caesarean Awareness Network) and I DID!