My First Birth Story

Ten years ago, plus one day, I was tired of waiting. At 40 weeks and 6 days, I had tried dancing, bumpy car rides, spicy food, even a rich chocolate lava cake that always made me have contractions. Nothing was working. I know now that I wasn’t at the tipping point. 

And to be honest, I was most eager because I felt my maternity leave slipping away. I stopped working at 40 weeks assuming that it would be before then. But now, one whole week was spent at home instead of with her. One less week with my baby is what was getting to me. 

Rewind a bit…

I found out I was pregnant on a Saturday. My partner was at work so I just wanted to see as I was a couple days late. I didn’t feel pregnant so I wasn’t convinced. Sure enough, the line showed up instantly. I didn’t even have to wait the 3 minutes…not that I wasn’t going to stare at it the whole time anyhow. 

When my partner got home, we had plans to go out and get dinner for a date night. He was in the door for maybe 30 seconds before I asked him to close his eyes. When he opened them, I was holding the test. He was so excited too. Date night quickly turned into planning our future night. 

Most of the early pregnancy, I was quite nauseous. It seemed never ending. One of my favorite things that happened though was at work. One day during lunch I was in the kitchen and another co-worker was heating up her lunch. I said to her “wow, that smells so good.” I was lying and just being polite, because I was so nauseous. But I hadn't told anyone yet that I was pregnant. She responded by turning up her nose and said “eh, maybe.” I asked her if she was all right and she said that she’d been feeling sick. 

I joked afterwards that I could smell it on her. But at that moment, I said “are you the kinda sick that can last about 9 months? Because I have that too!” Surprised, she laughed and sure enough, I had a work friend who was also trying not to barf for several weeks on end. 

The pregnancy was joyful and fun and magical. In fact, things were quite smooth until the holidays rolled around. I hosted a cookie exchange at my house with several friends from work. As the night went on, I wasn’t feeling so hot. My stomach felt so tight and I needed to sit down. It took a couple hours but eventually I was feeling better. A few days later it started to happen again. I was feeling uncomfortable at work, and the drive home was so much worse. The pain in my cervix was too uncomfortable to even sit. I called my partner and asked if he could drive me home. It didn’t get much better and I decided I was going to call the midwife in the morning if it was still bothering me. 

Needless to say, it most definitely was. My work was close to the birth center so I decided to just work and wait. I went to one early meeting and the nurse there asked me what was the matter. I explained that I had been uncomfortable and what I was feeling. “You’re having contractions!” is all she said. 

The midwife asked me to come in, skeptical that anything was happening. But sure enough, the monitor showed consistent contractions every minute or so. They hydrated me to see if it made a difference, but not enough. She ran a fetal fibronectin test which can predict preterm labor. See, I was only 24 weeks and 3 days at this point. And the problem with the test is that it has some errors. If it read negative, I was definitely not in preterm labor. But if it read positive, there was a 50/50 chance I was. 

I tested positive. 

They pumped me with some drugs and arranged for a transfer to a bigger hospital with a NICU on site. My partner met me there and it all seemed to calm. For whatever reason, the team there was laid back and didn't believe I was in labor. That was helpful because it made me realize that maybe I was not. 

I continued to have contractions throughout the weekend there, but was assured by a very nice doctor that if labor hadn’t started by then, it wasn’t going to in the next week. 

In fact, my midwife ended up as the most conservative of the bunch and put me on bedrest until 38 weeks. I was able to go out occasionally and could get up to take care of myself, but had limited access to everything. A very loving and understanding boss and team, allowed me to work remotely. They even threw me a remote baby shower, which even today I still treasure. 

So I was not too bored and kept myself busy.

Fast forward to 38 weeks and I was set free. Everyone was convinced that I’d start walking around and the baby would just come. I continued to have contractions all the way up until the end, just with some less regularity. I attribute it to my need to be over prepared for everything, lol. 

For nearly 3 weeks, I lived life again…working, shopping, going places, etc. My mom came up at about 40 weeks and stayed with me and kept me company for those last few days. 

Finally, it was a Tuesday and I didn't want to wait anymore - we had planned on baking a birthday cake when I went into labor as a way to keep me busy, but also to celebrate her birth - so I just decided to make it. Worst case, I got to eat two birthday cakes. Well, while mixing, I started to feel some stranger and deeper tension pains. And they continued to grow throughout the day. The cake was the trigger I needed because labor was starting.

I brought out the birthing ball and hung out why we planned everything around me. My mom went to the store and made me some dinner - spaghetti (I still laugh at this because I was a swimmer growing up and we always ate spaghetti the night before a meet to “carb load” so I carb loaded for this marathon that was coming).

My partner came home, the dogs went off to the boarding facility, and then it all started full force. I labored at home until about 2am when I felt like I needed some help. I wanted my doula, so the midwife asked me to come in. 

The drive there was a disaster. We knew it was a 35 minute drive without traffic. But for whatever reason, the city of Boston was working on the city tunnels that week at night. We were rerouted through town. I kneeled on the back floor trying to make it through every bump and halt and start. It felt like forever…even in labor Boston makes you late.

When we arrived, I found out I was 4cm dilated. So up to the rooms, I went. My doula arrived and I was so grateful. Somehow I knew that I needed her. I labored on the bed and in the tub while she put massagers on my back and poured warm water down the front of me. 

At about 6am, the midwife (who I could tell was at the end of her shift) suggested we might break my water. She wanted to see where I was at, but I was building a contraction and told her to wait. Then, as clear as day, I heard the pop. My water broke as if on cue. I stood up and there was some coloring, so I had to be transferred. The policy was that if there was any meconium in the fluids, you had to give birth at the hospital.

At that time, I didn’t care. My mind just kept saying “yes, they have epidurals at the hospital.”

They wheeled me over and I went to work - in the tub and swaying with my partner. But I was feeling so tired and done. My body was at 9.5 cm and I had a cervical lip that just wouldn’t budge. I had been 9.5cm for 4 hours and I was so tired. 

It was time, I needed a break so I asked for an epidural. This was my least favorite part of the whole experience as the doctor couldn’t get it done so another came in who then made me move positions and it was just a giant pile of shit.

But I felt better immediately. Everyone said I should sleep, but I was wired all of a sudden. And after about 20 minutes I was yelling about how the epidural was not working. It felt like I had the worst hemorrhoids of my life. In those 20 minutes, the lip moved out and my baby moved down. They told me I could start pushing.

This part felt like forever, because it really was. I knew the hospital had a 2 hour policy - that if the baby wasn’t born in 2 hours of pushing, then a cesarean was considered. I pushed and pushed and pushed but she was just not coming. 

Believe it or not, I was more frustrated than scared. Because I had been sure I was going to ace this birth. I was strong and willful and determined. 

Also, the doctor who was on call was someone I knew. See, I had chosen to birth in the hospital that I worked at. And he was a colleague and friend. The midwife was new to me, but she quickly saw what I needed and treated me as such. She was absolutely amazing. Together, they saw my will and gave me more time. I pushed for 3 hours.

They were trying everything to help me - switching positions, even an episiotomy in case it was just my perineum hanging on tight. I could feel her head and it felt like she was there forever. 

Finally, I heard my midwife say, “one more push and she’s out”. I pushed and she did not come. My body collapsed in frustration because she was not out and I was pissed. And tired. And so so done. 

Next thing I knew, my midwife yelled “HELP!” and a team of people swarmed in. They were maneuvering me like I was gumby and yelling at me to push. I remember thinking, “what’s all the fuss about?” 

They pulled her out of me (it was exactly that unfortunately) and rushed her to the warming table with the pediatrician and I just kept thinking “oh thank god, that is over.” I immediately looked at my partner and said, “go be with her. I’m ok” The look on his face was pure fear. I said it again and he left. 

My mom was at the birth too, a quiet loving observer and she stepped in with me here. I felt like everyone left me. Everyone was rushing around and I was just laying there. I remember laying on the table, watching several people around the baby. And I said, “does anyone want to know her name?” My midwife stopped in front of me, carrying something, and said, “yes, we do.” 

“Charley!”

“I love it,” she replied. 

Next, I heard my partner say, “Kel, she’s ok.” 

I honestly never knew she wasn’t. And still today I don’t think she wasn’t. She just needed some help coming around. Her lungs were pretty full of meconium and she was literally just ripped from my body. They finally brought her to me and I heard “she’s pinking up so much better now that she's on mom.”

I couldn’t see her very well, because after 3 hours of pushing my vision was all blurry, but I was still so happy she was here. There was so much panic around me, but I never felt that. Not even once. It wasn’t until I learned later why shoulder dystocia is so scary for the birth team - worries about the baby, and of course litigation. 

The next day, my midwife visited and told me how powerful I was to do all of that. She even said “just so you know, I believe if you had one more push, you would have had her out.”

I’ve held onto that. I get why they intervened, but also I don’t. She was delivered in just over a minute. There was plenty of time for them to help me get her out on my own. 

In the process of delivery, I was severely torn, and she was hurt. We didn’t know it at the time, she had some really bad neck pain from all of it. 

If there’s any trauma I experience in all of it, it’s how the doctors spoke to me after. This little babe didn’t come without her own personality and needs, including breath holding at 5 hours old (even today she likes to be first, and dramatic). But it was always the response they had to me. Being told I was suffocating her while nursing (when she was breath holding), being told I had a fickle baby (when she was in severe pain), being treated like the birth was a complete disaster when it just happened the way it happened. 

I know that the hospital reviewed my case, they had to as they do with any complications. But she was ok and I was ok. We needed more time to heal than usual, which is where the problems came in. When we didn’t fit the typical trajectory, we were poked and prodded, and even scolded. 

But there is still some magic. 

When I was 20 weeks pregnant, I had a dream that I was sitting on a labor table all alone. I was having my baby but she was stuck and I kept yelling for a specific doctor. Well, he’s the one that was there that day. He was there when she was indeed stuck and he was one of the team members who helped her get unstuck. 

(And if you need more magic, he was retired 5 years later but happened to be on call the night my second was born.)

Ten years ago, my first was born. It was complicated, but it was still mine. My second pregnancy and birth experience made me yearn for a more natural experience. But when I look back at my first experience with her, it was natural. It was all of the things I wanted until the end. I’m not sure I could have been prepared for any of what was to come. But I let too many years of being overwhelmed and hurt by the after overshadow the power of her birth. 

This sweet babe came into this world because I baked her a birthday cake, she loved me instantly, and I had never felt like something that happened to me (birthing a baby) was as meant to be as it was in that moment. It was pure joy, pure chaos, pure love, and pure magic.

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