I was one of Shelley’s first prenatal yoga students, so it’s only fitting that I’m the first to post my birth story. My son was born August 1, 2007, and I was really happy with my birth experience, although there were some bumpy moments.
I knew pretty early in my pregnancy I wanted to have a natural birth. It was my first pregnancy, so I didn't really know if I would be able to handle it, but I did everything I could to work towards that goal. I did prenatal yoga, I switched to a midwife practice, I read books on natural birth, and I took the childbirth class geared toward natural birth. So, at my 38 week appointment, I was crushed to hear that because my baby was measuring “big”, I would need to be induced if I went over 40 weeks. I knew that it was still possible to have a natural birth if you are induced, but I also knew it was harder. And I feared one intervention could lead to another. I had to pick a date for my induction, because those spots filled up quickly. The thought of an induction was really stressful for me during that last week of my pregnancy. I had not been in any hurry for my baby to come. I figured he would come when he was ready. But I suddenly felt the pressure of time.
A couple of days later, on a Friday, I stayed late at work to clean out my desk and finish up some things. When I left that night, I told my baby he could come any time. Nothing happened that weekend, and I went into work on Monday. But I saw another midwife on Tuesday. She was actually Shelley’s midwife, so I felt like I could talk to her, and I told her my baby was measuring in the 75th percentile, and the doctors wanted to induce if I went over 40 weeks. She was supportive and said she didn’t think a 75th percentile baby was that big. She offered to check me and sweep my membranes. I had not been checked before that, and I had not wanted to have my membranes swept, but I felt if it could help things along and possibly avoid an induction, I was ok with it. To my surprise, I was 4cm dilated! She swept my membranes, told me she couldn’t believe I was not making a face as she was doing it, and that I’m probably one of
those women. (I really hoped I was one of
those women.) The midwife told me she didn’t think I would have to worry about an induction. It was a huge weight lifted.
That night, my husband and I went for a long walk and had frozen yogurt after dinner. The next morning (August 1), I woke up at 6am shaking with the chills. My husband took my temperature three times and it kept going up each time, from 97 to 98 to 99. My husband called the midwife on call, and because my temperature was only 99.1, she did not think I needed to come in. I went back to sleep for a little bit, until around 7am, when I felt a gush. I knew that my water had broken. All I wanted to do was sleep, though. I got back into bed and told my husband I felt really scared. My husband, who was a diligent student of the Bradley Method, recognized the second emotional sign post. He knew something was happening. He got up and quickly put all our stuff into a bag. (We had laid out everything but had not packed it yet.) He loaded up the car and came back to get me.
By the time we got to the hospital, the contractions were getting fairly uncomfortable. I had to stop a couple of times before we got to the hospital door. Although I was with the midwife practice, when we got to the hospital, the Birth Center was full, so we had to go to L&D. Our doula met us in L&D and told us that she told them we were coming, and they were preparing a room for us. Meanwhile, we had to wait in the waiting room. Apparently, everybody was giving birth that day.
The contractions were coming fairly frequently at this point. The doula was really helpful in getting me to breath through them. She was also really good about checking on our room. There was a guy in the waiting room with us, and I think he feared I would give birth right there, so he stepped out. When we got to our room, I changed into the gown, and got in bed. I remember, I curled up on my side and wanted to stay that way forever. The midwife on duty came to introduce herself and told me that she had another mother in labor, but after that, she’d come and check in on me. She checked me and told me I was 6 cm dilated. That was about 8:30am. She told me, “You’re about to experience the part that gives labor a bad name—transition.”
I had felt flushed even on the way to the hospital, but I didn’t really think anything of it, until my nurse informed me that I had a fever. They started an IV to get me fluids and put me on the fetal monitor. My doula offered me ice chips and kept a towel on my forehead to help lower my temperature. I think there were times when the baby’s heart rate dipped, and they had me change positions to see if that helped. But most of the time, I was on my side, and that’s how I wanted to stay. It’s funny, because I had imagined using all the things they had in the birthing center to help me through labor, like the birthing ball and the tub. The one time that the doula suggested I get on my hands and knees, I tried that position and immediately went back to lying on my side.
The doula encouraged me to vocalize, and the work we did in Shelley’s class definitely helped me know how to vocalize. At the time, I remember thinking the hallways of L&D were really quiet. I think I was the only person making a sound!
By about 10:30am or so, I told the doula I really wanted to push, and she told me not to yet. So, I kept having to breathe through the pressure and do anything but push. I think this was the worst part. Things were so intense everywhere, and there was no way to relieve the pressure. I was checked again, and I was 8cm. The doula informed me that I would probably have this baby by noon, so I kept watching the clock, waiting for noon!
Because I was only 8cm, I still couldn’t push, and there didn’t seem to be much of a break in between contractions. I just tried to stay as focused as possible. I thought the doula was really helpful during this time, because I would not have known that I shouldn’t push. She had me look in her eyes and just focus on breathing. She kept telling me to let my body do the work for me and to let the baby work his way down. At about 12:30pm or so, I was checked again, and I was fully dilated but the baby had not fully descended yet. I was told I could push when I experienced contractions, but I guess I wasn’t “formally” pushing yet. I was relieved that I could finally push, and I thought that would help to make me feel better, but it was still pretty uncomfortable. I think I “informally” pushed through a few contractions, when the nurse examined me and exclaimed, “Oh my God. You are a superwoman.” Apparently, she could see the baby’s head. She went to get the midwife.
The midwife arrived. They asked me to switch sides, because the baby’s heart rate was dropping again. I laid on my side, the doula held my leg, and my husband held my hand. I pushed a few times, and when the baby was crowning, the midwife told me to stop pushing so the head could come out slowly. I think he also had the cord wrapped around his neck, so the midwife had to unwrap it. I was surprised that the pushing wasn’t more methodical, like you see on TV. There was no counting or anything. I just pushed when I felt the urge. Fairly soon, the midwife said the baby was out to his belly button. From then, things happened pretty quickly. I remember feeling a gush, and then the midwife told me to open my gown so they could put the baby on me skin-to-skin. Next thing I know, this little creature was staring up at me with such a look of wonder in his eyes. Daniel was born at 1:41pm. I remember I kept saying, “Oh my God. Oh my God” over and over. My husband was kissing me and telling me that I did a great job.
In the end, I had the natural birth that I wanted. Even with all the stressful and seemly scary moments, I was really happy with my birth experience. I think I was also lucky, because given my fever, things could have gone very differently. I’m grateful to have had the support system I had. Before I got pregnant, my husband told me he could not stand the sight of blood and feared being in the birthing room, but in the end, he embraced my decision to have a natural birth, he committed to learning the Bradley Method, and he was with me the whole way. Getting a doula was the best decision I made during my pregnancy. I don’t think I could have done it without her. Neither my husband nor I knew what was going on, and I’m grateful for her experience and knowledge. She was an excellent support for my husband and me. My L&D nurse took such good care of me and never pushed any drugs or other intervention on me.
I believe prenatal yoga also contributed to my positive birth experience. Shelley’s class wasn’t just about exercising. It was really a time to focus on your baby, your strengths as a woman and what your body was capable of doing. When Shelley shared her experiences in pregnancy and childbirth, for me, that was just as important as the yoga. She was definitely my birth role model. While most people were telling me I was crazy to be thinking about having a natural birth, and why not use drugs, that’s what they are there for, I looked to Shelley, who had had three natural births. I thought if Shelley could do it three times, I certainly could do it once. Even if you don’t plan to have a natural birth, I think prenatal yoga is important to help keep your body and spirit strong and to prepare you for the birth experience.
Pregnancy and childbirth is a time when we learn about what we are capable of doing. I still remember the little chant we did in prenatal yoga while practicing warrior pose: “There’s no more powerful warrior than a woman giving birth to life.” It may feel funny to say at first, but the more I said it, the more I embraced it. I felt incredibly powerful holding my baby and knowing that I had given birth to him. And the funny thing is, that’s such a small moment in the journey. There’s so much more after you’ve given birth. It has been an incredibly awesome experience watching my baby change every day and grow into the person he’s meant to be.
The day he was born:
Causing mischief a year later:
