It’s been almost two weeks since Andrew was born [Well, it was 2 weeks when I started this post, now it’s been a month. One thing I don’t have much time for anymore is blogging.] Ryan wrote a little about Andrew’s birth in a previous post but I want to record my version of it, too.
Ryan wrote that I had planned to do a natural birth this time (meaning no epidural or drugs.) Actually, at first he wrote that I was “absolutely determined” to have a natural birth which I made him change to “planned to” because really, I wasn’t determined at all. He also neglected to mention that I was a total basket case at times during this pregnancy because I was so worried and scared about labor & delivery. Among my worries were that I just wouldn’t be able to do it; that I would chicken out early, or lose my resolve once it was too late, or panic and completely lose my &@#$(!, or simply have my body fail me and not be able to push the baby out and end up begging for a c-section, which is pretty much what happened with Oliver. Not the c-section, mind you, but the begging part.
In any event, when push came to shove (har, har) I DID IT! I am really proud to have joined the millions of women, including – obviously – most of our foremothers (is that a word?) who have successfully and safely given birth naturally. I am also proud to say that I didn’t lose my )@#$(@)#$*, or at least not completely.
One thing that really helped was that Ryan got on board with my plan to do a natural birth. I made him read (or at least listen to me give the highlights) of countless books on natural childbirth. Even when inwardly I was filled with doubts, he acted like it was a forgone conclusion that I would be able to do it and it would all be fine, no big deal.
I also talked to just about everyone I knew who had had a natural birth. I got some great perspectives and practical advice about labor. The most helpful tips were about relaxing EVERY muscle, from your head to your toes so that the contractions could do their thing most efficiently. Also, during contractions to focus on the baby and not on the pain—you’d think that would be pretty obvious but it’s easy to lose sight of that when you are in the thick of things.
My sister, Abby, who is a obstetrician and is also pregnant with her first baby (a girl, yea!!!!) couldn’t understand why I even WANTED to give birth naturally. I guess she’s seen enough women totally freak out in the throes of labor to make her want to avoid natural childbirth altogether. But my feeling going in to this was that birth IS natural. It is something completely awesome and almost divine that we are expressly designed to be able to do. What could be more sacred and powerful than the capacity to bring forth new life? I wanted to experience that in all its primal glory. There are a lot of good reasons to have a natural birth but for me, it came down to a crucible of sorts. I wanted to know if I was mentally/physically tough enough. Could I overcome the pain and fear to work with my body to accomplish this thing I was designed to do? I surprised myself by carrying it off with more grace/dignity than I would have expected.
I went into early labor on Thursday morning, and by the evening my contractions were pretty regular. I went to bed and just lay on my side in the dark next to Ryan thinking about how every contraction was bringing me closer to seeing our baby. I thought about how much I already loved this baby and how interesting it would be to see him for the first time – a little person who was both a stranger and an intimate. A person who in yet unknown ways would change my life forever. I had read that the pressure of contractions massages the baby’s circulatory system and prepares him to take his first breath. That thought helped me realize that the process of labor was something we were both experiencing, a journey we were taking together. I focused on being still and calm -- relaxing and conserving my energy.
I stayed at home until my mom arrived from New York (her flight was really delayed so she didn’t get to our house until 2:30 in the morning). We left for the hospital as soon as she arrived. When we got to the hospital they checked me and thought that I was fully dilated. It turns out that after they broke my water I still had a tiny bit to go so I labored for a little while longer.
It was all pretty manageable until the pushing part…that’s what Ryan euphemistically referred to as “some painful moments.” Like hell it was!! Anyone walking the halls of Labor & Delivery would have been forgiven for thinking someone was being murdered. I screamed my head off. I am NOT a screamer. But I lost it. I cried. I shook uncontrollably. I begged for it to stop. And then it did. Andrew was born. And I was ELATED. I had endured the most intense pain and fear and emerged on the other side triumphant. It sounds cliché but it was transformative. I had breached a boundary, had pushed past what I thought I could endure and reached new ground. This little guy who had been physically a part of me for the past 9 months looked up at me in wonder through swollen eyes. He and I had made the journey together and WE DID IT!
