Gaia's Birth Story
Posted on Feb 13th, 2007
by 
Kira
Kira
I have been deeply amazed at the love that has sprouted in our lives. I have often wondered how Steven would take to parenting, and at this point I can say that sometimes I feel like he's actually the mother. I had no idea how intense these hormones could be. All the drugs, sex, crushes that I've ever experienced completely pale in comparison to this. Things are calming down and there begins to be a sense of normality, but the experience of the birthing shall forever stand out as the most mind-changing life-altering journey that I've undergone.
So, the story... I've thought of a hundred different ways to try to convey the intensity of this experience, yet I still don't really know how to. So I'm just going to give it to you bare bones - what happened, that's it.
My water broke on Sunday, Feb 4 - her due date - around noon. I got nervous at first, and even though I knew I should sleep, I couldn't do more than rest and feel anxious about the soon-to-come contractions. When will they come? How intense will they be? Will it progress fast or slow? I am one of the cases that needed an IV of antibiotics to guard against bacteria, but I felt that the doctors are much to paranoid in general so I waited until that evening to call. No contractions had come yet, or very small and spread apart ones anyway. Of course the hospital freaked out when I called and said I should check in immediately, but I was insistent and said that I am not going to wait around in the hospital when my contractions haven't even started yet. So we went back and forth from the hospital that night every 4 hours. They would stick me with an IV and monitor the baby for an hour, then we'd go home, and come back again 4 hours later. I got a little bit of rest at home, but not really. Driving back and forth became strenuous so we finally checked in at 9am.
At this point the contractions were coming on their own every 5-10 minutes. They were mild, like menstrual cramps. I couldn't really sleep through them but I could doze. The nurses began their rounds. IV, blood pressure, temp, baby monitors. 4 hours. Repeat. I was way too exhausted to start trying to engage the contractions so I slept as much as possible.
Around 6pm the choice was before me to try Cervadil - prostaglandins that ripen the cervix. I said I would try to move around first and then decide. I couldn't seem to get the contractions to be rhythmic or strong enough, and by 10pm I was only 2cm dilated. At this point my doctor suggested taking morphine, sleeping, and starting fresh in the morning - but I decided to labor at night and try the Cervadil. Well, it worked for sure - before long I was squirming around, squatting, and my true labor voice finally came in. My doula Paula Scott arrived in the evening and stayed all the way through the labor the next day. Without her, I don't know what we would have done. Of course we would have gotten through it, but it would have been so much more difficult. She was the constant calm voice that reminded me to keep opening, keep relaxing, keep seeing the light in my root that baby was moving towards. She kept reminding Steven that his love and support are the best things that he can give me, and that no matter what, he cannot enter my body and stop the pain. I knew that this is the most difficult experience of his life - to watch someone he loves in so much pain, and not be able to stop it. He cried. I labored hard. I sat in the tub, which helped a little. The damn nurses kept bothering me with their IVs and monitors, and some wouldn't even wait until a contraction was finished to stick me with needles. Even here in Humboldt, they are so used to their jobs that they don't realize how difficult the experience is. I kept my mind on progress. Paula kept telling me that I'm progressing, I'm dilating, that I'm doing so well. Without that belief I would have given up sooner. By morning I was certain that I had achieved at least 5cm.
Actually I had barely reached 3. I collapsed. My mind collapsed, my spirit gave in. "I can't go on." They wanted to give me Pitosin, but I couldn't endure the thought of any more of these sensations when I still had such a long way to go. Even though the nurses and Paula reassured me that the first 4cm are the hardest and that I had actually done a lot of the work already, I just couldn't deal. They tried giving me a pain killer (starts with P... can't remember now). It made me all dizzy and altered and tingly but didn't take the pain away. Normally I would have freaked out at this point. No sleep for 2 days, constant intense sensations, and a feeling of utter despair. But my animal self was so in gear that I wasn't phased by the drug or anything else. All I could think about was that I had to give in and accept the aid the hospital had to offer. I took the Pitosin, and had an epidural administered. I am thankful that I did take this route, because it gave me 2 hours of blissful sleep which I completely needed to keep going. [Oh and by the way, no one reminded me that I can't eat with an epidural. This whole thing could have been easier if I even had a few crackers in my stomach.] Apparently I dilated from 3 to 7cm in those 2 hours. I felt nothing. I was so sorry to my baby for having given up. Paula did try to console me and tell me that I had done so very very well and not to judge myself for adjusting to the situation. In the light of things, I'm glad everything went the way it did.
So I had some rest. My right side didn't respond to the epidural too much, so past 7cm I started to feel everything. Gradually at first, but after about 30 minutes I was back to the grunting and moaning that had engulfed my voice the entire previous night. At this point the hormones really kicked in. The epidural had made me shake, but now I was really in gear. My whole body buzzed and I had a rush of energy. I felt like I was on the verge of orgasm the whole time. Needless to say, vag exams felt really good. I didn't actually orgasm - though I got pretty close. I felt the contractions, but they were accompanied with a sense of euphoria. I still called out and sang, but there was something comforting about it. The sensations from the previous night were much more of a struggle.
I dilated to 10cm by 3pm. And began to push. After the 2nd push I noticed my energy level sank, and the high I had gotten through transition had faded. But somehow I mustered the strength. I pushed as hard as I could. I never got an actual "urge", as they say - it was a mental urge not a physical one. I slept in-between contractions. Out like a light. Deep, deep sleep. And then another contraction. At some point lost sensation of when the contractions were and just kept pushing. They wanted at least 3 pushes per contraction, but at some point I was doing 5 or 6. Apparently the strength of them was almost off the charts. I had no idea I could force my muscles so much. I gave it everything I had. And with that, it took 3 hours. I was thankful for the mirror placed in front of me in which I could see the progress - especially as we could finally see her head coming through. Once she was crowning I did everything to have her not go back in. I had people holding my legs and back, curling me and reminding me to push with the right muscles. I could see Steven next to me, tears in his eyes, encouraging me with all his spirit to keep going. When she was crowning I couldn't wait between contractions; I suppose this is the only real "urge" I had - I'd just take another breath and keep going. I wanted her to come through so much. And then she did. I have never felt anything like that. It was sudden, and it was completely overbearing. My own shriek surprised me. She came out all in one push, and then I had this warm slippery body lying on my chest. I was simply in shock for the next 10 minutes. If I am ever brave enough to show anyone the video, you'll know what I mean. It was a completely euphoric and traumatic event all in one. It took me a few days to be able to think about it without completely falling apart.
Afterwards, all I'll say is that we stayed in the hospital much too long - 2 days. They have so many protocols and are so paranoid that they kept checking and rechecking both of us, and Steven and I basically got no sleep while we were there. I started hallucinating thoughts that scared me, and I knew we had to go home. My advice - go home ASAP and come back later for all their testing crap. There were some nice things about it, especially with the really thoughtful nurses. But there were some idiots that bothered the hell out of me. Some lady who is apparently a head nurse kept asking me about my last name and favorite composer while I was finally getting a few minutes of sleep. I wanted to clock her with something heavy.
Finally we went home. It was a huge relief to be outside. As far as taking care of her, it's been erratic and an amazing learning experience. I don't know why people complain about diapers so much, they're the least of our problems. Breastfeeding has been difficult but we're getting the hang of it. Her schedule changes every day so sleeping is certainly a luxury. But we're doing our best. And are completely in love.
For those of you wanting to visit, it will be at least a couple weeks if not a month. There's a lot of stabilizing that needs to happen, and I am not really interested in testing her immune system. But you'll see her eventually, don't worry :)
For any pregnant mothers reading this.... Please please please remember that everyone's experience is completely different. Completely. Part of the journey is the uncertainty. But my recommendations are these: have a loved one with you 100% of the time. Someone you trust completely. Have a birthing coach - a doula, or a friend that is emotionally detached from the experience and can offer constant non-biased support. Get the fuck out of the hospital as soon as you can. Tell your birthing partners to keep the nurses away from you when you're contracting.
Ultimately, it has been exactly as I had predicted. The most important and difficult experience of my life. Nothing is the same. Pettiness has flown out the window. All the "I want this" or "I need things this way" is completely lost. All I care about is getting some sleep, food, and making sure she's fed and healthy. And to keep falling in love. But that one's easy.
So, the story... I've thought of a hundred different ways to try to convey the intensity of this experience, yet I still don't really know how to. So I'm just going to give it to you bare bones - what happened, that's it.
My water broke on Sunday, Feb 4 - her due date - around noon. I got nervous at first, and even though I knew I should sleep, I couldn't do more than rest and feel anxious about the soon-to-come contractions. When will they come? How intense will they be? Will it progress fast or slow? I am one of the cases that needed an IV of antibiotics to guard against bacteria, but I felt that the doctors are much to paranoid in general so I waited until that evening to call. No contractions had come yet, or very small and spread apart ones anyway. Of course the hospital freaked out when I called and said I should check in immediately, but I was insistent and said that I am not going to wait around in the hospital when my contractions haven't even started yet. So we went back and forth from the hospital that night every 4 hours. They would stick me with an IV and monitor the baby for an hour, then we'd go home, and come back again 4 hours later. I got a little bit of rest at home, but not really. Driving back and forth became strenuous so we finally checked in at 9am.
At this point the contractions were coming on their own every 5-10 minutes. They were mild, like menstrual cramps. I couldn't really sleep through them but I could doze. The nurses began their rounds. IV, blood pressure, temp, baby monitors. 4 hours. Repeat. I was way too exhausted to start trying to engage the contractions so I slept as much as possible.
Around 6pm the choice was before me to try Cervadil - prostaglandins that ripen the cervix. I said I would try to move around first and then decide. I couldn't seem to get the contractions to be rhythmic or strong enough, and by 10pm I was only 2cm dilated. At this point my doctor suggested taking morphine, sleeping, and starting fresh in the morning - but I decided to labor at night and try the Cervadil. Well, it worked for sure - before long I was squirming around, squatting, and my true labor voice finally came in. My doula Paula Scott arrived in the evening and stayed all the way through the labor the next day. Without her, I don't know what we would have done. Of course we would have gotten through it, but it would have been so much more difficult. She was the constant calm voice that reminded me to keep opening, keep relaxing, keep seeing the light in my root that baby was moving towards. She kept reminding Steven that his love and support are the best things that he can give me, and that no matter what, he cannot enter my body and stop the pain. I knew that this is the most difficult experience of his life - to watch someone he loves in so much pain, and not be able to stop it. He cried. I labored hard. I sat in the tub, which helped a little. The damn nurses kept bothering me with their IVs and monitors, and some wouldn't even wait until a contraction was finished to stick me with needles. Even here in Humboldt, they are so used to their jobs that they don't realize how difficult the experience is. I kept my mind on progress. Paula kept telling me that I'm progressing, I'm dilating, that I'm doing so well. Without that belief I would have given up sooner. By morning I was certain that I had achieved at least 5cm.
Actually I had barely reached 3. I collapsed. My mind collapsed, my spirit gave in. "I can't go on." They wanted to give me Pitosin, but I couldn't endure the thought of any more of these sensations when I still had such a long way to go. Even though the nurses and Paula reassured me that the first 4cm are the hardest and that I had actually done a lot of the work already, I just couldn't deal. They tried giving me a pain killer (starts with P... can't remember now). It made me all dizzy and altered and tingly but didn't take the pain away. Normally I would have freaked out at this point. No sleep for 2 days, constant intense sensations, and a feeling of utter despair. But my animal self was so in gear that I wasn't phased by the drug or anything else. All I could think about was that I had to give in and accept the aid the hospital had to offer. I took the Pitosin, and had an epidural administered. I am thankful that I did take this route, because it gave me 2 hours of blissful sleep which I completely needed to keep going. [Oh and by the way, no one reminded me that I can't eat with an epidural. This whole thing could have been easier if I even had a few crackers in my stomach.] Apparently I dilated from 3 to 7cm in those 2 hours. I felt nothing. I was so sorry to my baby for having given up. Paula did try to console me and tell me that I had done so very very well and not to judge myself for adjusting to the situation. In the light of things, I'm glad everything went the way it did.
So I had some rest. My right side didn't respond to the epidural too much, so past 7cm I started to feel everything. Gradually at first, but after about 30 minutes I was back to the grunting and moaning that had engulfed my voice the entire previous night. At this point the hormones really kicked in. The epidural had made me shake, but now I was really in gear. My whole body buzzed and I had a rush of energy. I felt like I was on the verge of orgasm the whole time. Needless to say, vag exams felt really good. I didn't actually orgasm - though I got pretty close. I felt the contractions, but they were accompanied with a sense of euphoria. I still called out and sang, but there was something comforting about it. The sensations from the previous night were much more of a struggle.
I dilated to 10cm by 3pm. And began to push. After the 2nd push I noticed my energy level sank, and the high I had gotten through transition had faded. But somehow I mustered the strength. I pushed as hard as I could. I never got an actual "urge", as they say - it was a mental urge not a physical one. I slept in-between contractions. Out like a light. Deep, deep sleep. And then another contraction. At some point lost sensation of when the contractions were and just kept pushing. They wanted at least 3 pushes per contraction, but at some point I was doing 5 or 6. Apparently the strength of them was almost off the charts. I had no idea I could force my muscles so much. I gave it everything I had. And with that, it took 3 hours. I was thankful for the mirror placed in front of me in which I could see the progress - especially as we could finally see her head coming through. Once she was crowning I did everything to have her not go back in. I had people holding my legs and back, curling me and reminding me to push with the right muscles. I could see Steven next to me, tears in his eyes, encouraging me with all his spirit to keep going. When she was crowning I couldn't wait between contractions; I suppose this is the only real "urge" I had - I'd just take another breath and keep going. I wanted her to come through so much. And then she did. I have never felt anything like that. It was sudden, and it was completely overbearing. My own shriek surprised me. She came out all in one push, and then I had this warm slippery body lying on my chest. I was simply in shock for the next 10 minutes. If I am ever brave enough to show anyone the video, you'll know what I mean. It was a completely euphoric and traumatic event all in one. It took me a few days to be able to think about it without completely falling apart.
Afterwards, all I'll say is that we stayed in the hospital much too long - 2 days. They have so many protocols and are so paranoid that they kept checking and rechecking both of us, and Steven and I basically got no sleep while we were there. I started hallucinating thoughts that scared me, and I knew we had to go home. My advice - go home ASAP and come back later for all their testing crap. There were some nice things about it, especially with the really thoughtful nurses. But there were some idiots that bothered the hell out of me. Some lady who is apparently a head nurse kept asking me about my last name and favorite composer while I was finally getting a few minutes of sleep. I wanted to clock her with something heavy.
Finally we went home. It was a huge relief to be outside. As far as taking care of her, it's been erratic and an amazing learning experience. I don't know why people complain about diapers so much, they're the least of our problems. Breastfeeding has been difficult but we're getting the hang of it. Her schedule changes every day so sleeping is certainly a luxury. But we're doing our best. And are completely in love.
For those of you wanting to visit, it will be at least a couple weeks if not a month. There's a lot of stabilizing that needs to happen, and I am not really interested in testing her immune system. But you'll see her eventually, don't worry :)
For any pregnant mothers reading this.... Please please please remember that everyone's experience is completely different. Completely. Part of the journey is the uncertainty. But my recommendations are these: have a loved one with you 100% of the time. Someone you trust completely. Have a birthing coach - a doula, or a friend that is emotionally detached from the experience and can offer constant non-biased support. Get the fuck out of the hospital as soon as you can. Tell your birthing partners to keep the nurses away from you when you're contracting.
Ultimately, it has been exactly as I had predicted. The most important and difficult experience of my life. Nothing is the same. Pettiness has flown out the window. All the "I want this" or "I need things this way" is completely lost. All I care about is getting some sleep, food, and making sure she's fed and healthy. And to keep falling in love. But that one's easy.
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