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Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
Jude Alister Wall
Born Sunday, February 3, 2008 at 6:21pm
Jude’s Birth Story
Sunday, February 3rd 2008
8:30am…our early labor
I woke up feeling refreshed. Saturday had been a wonderful day and I remembered feeling more relaxed than I had in weeks. My house was clean, the last of the errands were done, and I had gotten a good night sleep (which didn’t happen too often by this point). I was four days overdue and had been 80% effaced and three centimeters dilated for a month now. Jude had even dropped and had been just hanging out at 0 station for weeks, but no sign of labor. Sure, I had been having some contractions for the past month, but nothing more than menstrual type cramping.
Pete brought me a bowl of cheerios to bed, I sat up to eat and felt my usual abdominal cramp. I told him I was having a contraction, but honestly we didn’t think much of it, since this had been going on for weeks, only to fade away to nothing. Over the next hour, they continued and by midmorning, we knew it was something more. We gave our midwife a ring, just to give her a heads up…my contractions had started three minutes apart and were lasting about 45 seconds, but they weren’t very painful. I told her that we would like to stay home until they became more intense. It was a beautiful day, so she suggested for us to take a walk and call her back when we were ready.
I first took a shower, ate some left over stir-fry, and started out the door for the walk. We never made it off of the front porch. My contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and lasting about a minute by now, but they were becoming more intense. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the contraction itself. We were starting to lose control. I knew it was time to leave the comfort of our house when Pete was still writing down the time for the previous contraction when the next one started. I remember looking for him to console me through the pain and seeing him with his head buried in his notepad. He was still trying to do the math from the last one. This was a sure sign that we needed to go.
1:00pm…active labor
We traveled a mile to the hospital, so there isn’t much to talk about there, but upon arrival; I decided to walk from the car into the ER. I figured it was about a two-minute walk; surely I could get to the door in between contractions. Plus, a little walking could help move things along. I was sent to labor and delivery. I declined a wheelchair, only to wish I had accepted later. Evidently, if you “walk” off the elevator, you may not be taken seriously as being in labor. We handed over our birth plan to the front desk. Nurses began to scatter until one looked at me and said, “are you POSITIVE your having a baby right now?” I didn’t even know how to answer this, and I’m not sure if I ever did. I remember thinking it was a ridiculous question, but I was still being polite and kept my mouth shut. So, we were told that we would not be admitted, but would instead be checked as an outpatient. “Fine, whatever, just do something”, I thought. I was six centimeters dilated, 90% effaced and plus 1 station. Jude was well on his way.
So, we began drawing the water in the tub. I couldn’t wait to get in. My nurse assigned to me wasn’t my favorite; in fact I found out later that she is rarely put with midwives…a bit of a control freak. She never pushed drugs on me, but when she came to us with all the forms to sign, she explained that we were signing the right to do a c-section, if it was needed. Pete asked, “Is it our midwife that makes this decision?” She was apparently offended and replied, “Look, I’m old enough to be your mother, blah, blah, blah”, I had began another contraction and lost the rest of what she was saying, but then I hear Pete, “Well I’ve known Dolly (my midwife) for nine months and I met you twenty minutes ago”. Was she arguing with my husband? Didn’t she read my birth plan? Calm atmosphere? I tried to forget about her and instead concentrated on the great music Pete had put on for me…my own birthing mix he had prepared with my favorite tunes. I loved having that.
Over the next three hours or so, I progressed another couple of centimeters. I spent time in the water, on the ball, leaning on Pete, etc. We were alone a lot during this time, which neither of us expected. My midwife had another patient come in, so she was going back and forth, and I’m pretty sure we scared away nurse Ratchet, b/c I don’t remember seeing her again until it was push time.
4:00pm…Transition
This period is very foggy for me. I honestly don’t remember a lot about it except that it hurt like hell and that I wanted to quit and go home. I was giving up, wandering how much worse it was going to be. I needed A LOT of encouragement during this time. I wanted someone to tell me that I was doing a phenomenal job and that labor was progressing great. Instead, I was told that Jude was turned sideways, and that my cervix had began to swell, and on top of it all, I was bleeding quite a bit. Swelling meant I was regressing and I pleaded with Dolly, “How much longer?” Knowing she couldn’t possibly give me an answer, she suggested that we break my water. “But I thought we weren’t supposed to do that”, I said. She explained briefly that given my circumstances, she felt that this would help. I trusted her, so that was all she had to say. I climbed onto the bed; my bag was broke, and more bad news…meconium. It wasn’t long before my contractions were right on top of one another, no breaks, with indescribable pain radiating through my body. My confidence turned into frustration. I told Dolly I couldn’t do it, I needed drugs, just make the pain stop. She knew that I didn’t want them. She told me that she would call for an epidural, but I really needed to own it first. I couldn’t think straight; much less make a decision. What did that mean, own it? Nothing made sense to me. I needed my cheerleaders now more than ever. I remember thinking, “someone help me” as everyone looked over me with faces that read, “I wish I could help, but you’re on your own”. That was in fact the truth…I suddenly remembered a quote from my Blessingway. “The only way through this is through you”. That was my moment of clarity in a scene of chaos.
Dolly said that I needed a whole bag of fluids through my IV before an epidural could be given, so no decisions needed to be made until after this was done. This ended up buying me the time I needed to regain my confidence. Finally, I began to progress. Dolly was able to turn Jude and I was fully dilated…we were ready to have a baby. I remember seeing the anesthesiologist come into the room, and being waved out. That felt great…I was ready to push!
5:00pm…Pushing
After experiencing the pain of transition, I found pushing to be rewarding because I could actually do something. I felt in control. I wanted to be done, so I channeled all of this into my pushes…really pushing through the pain. It felt good at times. I loved the feeling of a productive push, and yes it did feel like I was pooping a basketball, but in a good way…I could feel him moving through. I was so excited that I could barely feel the pain. I had been pushing for about an hour. I was dripping with sweat and my legs were tired. Dolly told me, “two more pushes like that, and you’ll have a baby”. Time was flying now. I remember looking out the window, as it was getting dark…I couldn’t believe I had been doing this all day.
By this time, there was a fleet of people in the room…because of the meconium. Dolly had told me that the baby might have to be taken aside to be checked instead of directly on my chest like we wanted. On the last push, my legs were pushed above my head. His shoulders were caught and this apparently gets him out quick. The bad news was that I now had a pretty bad tear…but I didn’t feel anything till later. I heard him cry. He was here, finally here. He was able to go directly on my chest after all. With all the crying, he was good and pink, so the crowd of nurses dissipated. An overwhelming amount of joy and emotion filled my heart. I still now, wish I could go back and do it all over…just to get the feeling of this moment back.
6:15 Afterbirth
He stayed on me for hours. I delivered a very large, healthy placenta, and then was stitched up where I had torn. I had my baby by now, so whatever they did, I barely knew anyone was touching me. During this moment, no one else existed; time stood still; and nothing else mattered except the love shared between the three of us. In the weeks to follow, my wounds healed, all except the emotional wound of becoming a mom, which will stay with me forever.
Sunday, February 3rd 2008
8:30am…our early labor
I woke up feeling refreshed. Saturday had been a wonderful day and I remembered feeling more relaxed than I had in weeks. My house was clean, the last of the errands were done, and I had gotten a good night sleep (which didn’t happen too often by this point). I was four days overdue and had been 80% effaced and three centimeters dilated for a month now. Jude had even dropped and had been just hanging out at 0 station for weeks, but no sign of labor. Sure, I had been having some contractions for the past month, but nothing more than menstrual type cramping.
Pete brought me a bowl of cheerios to bed, I sat up to eat and felt my usual abdominal cramp. I told him I was having a contraction, but honestly we didn’t think much of it, since this had been going on for weeks, only to fade away to nothing. Over the next hour, they continued and by midmorning, we knew it was something more. We gave our midwife a ring, just to give her a heads up…my contractions had started three minutes apart and were lasting about 45 seconds, but they weren’t very painful. I told her that we would like to stay home until they became more intense. It was a beautiful day, so she suggested for us to take a walk and call her back when we were ready.
I first took a shower, ate some left over stir-fry, and started out the door for the walk. We never made it off of the front porch. My contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and lasting about a minute by now, but they were becoming more intense. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the contraction itself. We were starting to lose control. I knew it was time to leave the comfort of our house when Pete was still writing down the time for the previous contraction when the next one started. I remember looking for him to console me through the pain and seeing him with his head buried in his notepad. He was still trying to do the math from the last one. This was a sure sign that we needed to go.
1:00pm…active labor
We traveled a mile to the hospital, so there isn’t much to talk about there, but upon arrival; I decided to walk from the car into the ER. I figured it was about a two-minute walk; surely I could get to the door in between contractions. Plus, a little walking could help move things along. I was sent to labor and delivery. I declined a wheelchair, only to wish I had accepted later. Evidently, if you “walk” off the elevator, you may not be taken seriously as being in labor. We handed over our birth plan to the front desk. Nurses began to scatter until one looked at me and said, “are you POSITIVE your having a baby right now?” I didn’t even know how to answer this, and I’m not sure if I ever did. I remember thinking it was a ridiculous question, but I was still being polite and kept my mouth shut. So, we were told that we would not be admitted, but would instead be checked as an outpatient. “Fine, whatever, just do something”, I thought. I was six centimeters dilated, 90% effaced and plus 1 station. Jude was well on his way.
So, we began drawing the water in the tub. I couldn’t wait to get in. My nurse assigned to me wasn’t my favorite; in fact I found out later that she is rarely put with midwives…a bit of a control freak. She never pushed drugs on me, but when she came to us with all the forms to sign, she explained that we were signing the right to do a c-section, if it was needed. Pete asked, “Is it our midwife that makes this decision?” She was apparently offended and replied, “Look, I’m old enough to be your mother, blah, blah, blah”, I had began another contraction and lost the rest of what she was saying, but then I hear Pete, “Well I’ve known Dolly (my midwife) for nine months and I met you twenty minutes ago”. Was she arguing with my husband? Didn’t she read my birth plan? Calm atmosphere? I tried to forget about her and instead concentrated on the great music Pete had put on for me…my own birthing mix he had prepared with my favorite tunes. I loved having that.
Over the next three hours or so, I progressed another couple of centimeters. I spent time in the water, on the ball, leaning on Pete, etc. We were alone a lot during this time, which neither of us expected. My midwife had another patient come in, so she was going back and forth, and I’m pretty sure we scared away nurse Ratchet, b/c I don’t remember seeing her again until it was push time.
4:00pm…Transition
This period is very foggy for me. I honestly don’t remember a lot about it except that it hurt like hell and that I wanted to quit and go home. I was giving up, wandering how much worse it was going to be. I needed A LOT of encouragement during this time. I wanted someone to tell me that I was doing a phenomenal job and that labor was progressing great. Instead, I was told that Jude was turned sideways, and that my cervix had began to swell, and on top of it all, I was bleeding quite a bit. Swelling meant I was regressing and I pleaded with Dolly, “How much longer?” Knowing she couldn’t possibly give me an answer, she suggested that we break my water. “But I thought we weren’t supposed to do that”, I said. She explained briefly that given my circumstances, she felt that this would help. I trusted her, so that was all she had to say. I climbed onto the bed; my bag was broke, and more bad news…meconium. It wasn’t long before my contractions were right on top of one another, no breaks, with indescribable pain radiating through my body. My confidence turned into frustration. I told Dolly I couldn’t do it, I needed drugs, just make the pain stop. She knew that I didn’t want them. She told me that she would call for an epidural, but I really needed to own it first. I couldn’t think straight; much less make a decision. What did that mean, own it? Nothing made sense to me. I needed my cheerleaders now more than ever. I remember thinking, “someone help me” as everyone looked over me with faces that read, “I wish I could help, but you’re on your own”. That was in fact the truth…I suddenly remembered a quote from my Blessingway. “The only way through this is through you”. That was my moment of clarity in a scene of chaos.
Dolly said that I needed a whole bag of fluids through my IV before an epidural could be given, so no decisions needed to be made until after this was done. This ended up buying me the time I needed to regain my confidence. Finally, I began to progress. Dolly was able to turn Jude and I was fully dilated…we were ready to have a baby. I remember seeing the anesthesiologist come into the room, and being waved out. That felt great…I was ready to push!
5:00pm…Pushing
After experiencing the pain of transition, I found pushing to be rewarding because I could actually do something. I felt in control. I wanted to be done, so I channeled all of this into my pushes…really pushing through the pain. It felt good at times. I loved the feeling of a productive push, and yes it did feel like I was pooping a basketball, but in a good way…I could feel him moving through. I was so excited that I could barely feel the pain. I had been pushing for about an hour. I was dripping with sweat and my legs were tired. Dolly told me, “two more pushes like that, and you’ll have a baby”. Time was flying now. I remember looking out the window, as it was getting dark…I couldn’t believe I had been doing this all day.
By this time, there was a fleet of people in the room…because of the meconium. Dolly had told me that the baby might have to be taken aside to be checked instead of directly on my chest like we wanted. On the last push, my legs were pushed above my head. His shoulders were caught and this apparently gets him out quick. The bad news was that I now had a pretty bad tear…but I didn’t feel anything till later. I heard him cry. He was here, finally here. He was able to go directly on my chest after all. With all the crying, he was good and pink, so the crowd of nurses dissipated. An overwhelming amount of joy and emotion filled my heart. I still now, wish I could go back and do it all over…just to get the feeling of this moment back.
6:15 Afterbirth
He stayed on me for hours. I delivered a very large, healthy placenta, and then was stitched up where I had torn. I had my baby by now, so whatever they did, I barely knew anyone was touching me. During this moment, no one else existed; time stood still; and nothing else mattered except the love shared between the three of us. In the weeks to follow, my wounds healed, all except the emotional wound of becoming a mom, which will stay with me forever.
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