On a Tuesday afternoon in February, more than three weeks before her due date, my daughter was born. My labor started when I woke up around one a.m. to go to the bathroom. As I climbed up out of bed a substantial amount of fluid came out and ran down my legs. I had no contractions, no back pain, just lots of clear fluid leaking out of me. I was surprised how the fluid kept coming. I always thought it would come out in one big gush, and then stop. Not with me. After waking my husband, and convincing him that it was really time for the baby to come, I called the “midwife on-call” for advice. Since I hadn’t had even the hint of a contraction, I wasn’t sure when I should go in to the birthing center. I was fortunate that the midwife, Jasmine, who had been following me my entire pregnancy happened to be on call this night. When I described the fluid amount and type, she started recalling my due date. I was really nervous because I was told from the beginning that you couldn’t deliver at the birthing center unless you are at least 37 weeks along and I did NOT want to go to the labor and delivery unit. We both knew that I was only 36 + 5. But my midwife offered to “re-calculate my dates” and came up with 37 +1. Lucky me!!!
Jasmine the midwife told me that because I was GBS positive I would need to come in, even if my contractions hadn’t started, so that I could get the proper doses of IV antibiotics before my daughter comes.
So then my husband and I started to pack our bags. I also took a shower to relax. In the shower, my contractions started. They were very far apart, and easily manageable. “This isn’t so bad,” I thought as I finished packing. My husband loaded the car, and placed lots of towels on the front passenger seat (I was still leaking, leaking, leaking).
Driving to the hospital, I was anxious and excited. We arrived at the UCSD birthing center at around 2:30 am. My midwife greeted me and an RN started an IV line. Since the contractions were not yet that bad, the staff urged me to try to rest (sleep) but I was too anxious. Instead I sat in the wooden rocking chair while my husband set up my IPOD and helped the staff get the room ready.
The nurses put out birthing balls, a bean bag chair, stools, and they got the tub ready. They brought in an incubator for the baby, and made sure I was comfortable and warm. The contractions started to get worse, but I was still doing well. I played solitaire on my laptop, pausing for the contractions. I sometimes rocked in the chair, and sometimes I would sit on a stool or stand and walk around. As the contractions intensified, I started to use positions and breathing techniques that I learned in Shelley’s yoga class. I had to really focus and practice my breathing to keep control. I used cat-cow a lot, I squatted a little bit, and I did a lot of rocking in the chair and meditating. I’d say about 85% of the time I was able to control myself and only let out a sigh or moan or purposeful “ohhhm” or “ahhh.” About 15% of the time I could not keep control and yelled a bit (typical “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO DIE”) like you see on TV. I managed not to cuss or use a swear word even once (a personal goal of mine). I can definitely say that if weren’t for the yoga practice, I would have been doing a lot more screaming. My husband was also a huge help during this period. We had discussed at length ahead of time that he was not to let me “give in” and get an epidural or take pain medications. He went to one couples yoga class with me and knew about some breathing techniques. Sometimes he would help by breathing with me, or rubbing my back. But mostly he was helpful by reassuring me that I could do this, and reminding me of what I wanted. This was very hard for him, because my husband works in anesthesia and puts in epidurals for a living. In fact we had fought MANY TIMES about me using the birthing center vs. a traditional hospital and doctor. In the end though, my husband was true to his word and supported me in my wish for a natural birth.My husband wasn’t the only one to help. At around 7 am my midwife Jasmine had to leave, and the next midwife, Beth, took over my care, along with a new set of nurses and aides. At this point, Beth was wondering if I was in transition yet, and I described my contractions and pain, and I asked (begged) her if I could please start to labor in the tub. Beth explained that I had to be at least 4 cm dilated to get into the tub, since the warm, soothing water might slow down labor. She asked me if I wanted to “be checked” (i.e. was I ready for a vaginal exam). I responded by vomiting all over the floor in front of her. I guess this lovely donation to Beth was an indication to her that I was further along than she thought. Beth checked me and I was about 5 cm. She gave me the okay to get into the tub! Hooray!
Also at this point the volunteer doula arrived. She was very young and had no children of her own, and at first I was nervous that because of her lack of personal experience she wouldn’t be of much help. But she WAS helpful, because she gave my poor, tired husband a break, and gave me great leg and back massages, and helped me move around and get more comfortable, all while bending over the rim of the tub. Her back must have really hurt the next day…Sweet, lovely Tub Goddess I love you I love you I love you! That is what I was thinking when I was floating in the water. I cannot tell the reader how much I LOVED THAT TUB. I had more control, less pain, and more rest in the tub than any position outside the tub. The best relief was when I would get on my hands and knees inside the tub. But after about an hour and a half, I was in severe pain. My contractions, if I had to describe them, felt light a rod of lightening was shooting through my body. I also felt the urge to push, and at my request, Beth checked me again (she actually reached down and checked me while I was in the tub). I was already 10 cm and I could reach up myself and feel the baby’s head. She was not crowning yet, but I only needed about an inch of my finger inside me before I ran into her head. Beth said I could go ahead and push with the contractions. For the next few hours I pushed through my contractions while floating in the tub.
Much earlier all the staff told me that while I may push in the tub, I may not deliver the baby in the tub. They told me that I would have to stand up or get out for that part, because the UCSD birthing center is not licensed for water births. This was very disappointing indeed, and I stayed in the tub until what I thought was the last minute. My husband was begging me to come out of there, and I could tell by the looks of all the staff members that they also would prefer if I would come out. So very, very reluctantly and with much persuasion I climbed out.
At this point the baby was supposedly almost out. The midwife Beth, the nurse, and my husband all told me they could see a lot of the baby’s head and that I was only a few pushes away. They were not lying, but later it turned out my babies hands were by her head…this impeded her from coming out “with just a few more pushes.” Instead, I PUSHED AND PUSHED for a few more hours outside he tub. The last 45 minutes were the worst. She was stuck like you wouldn’t believe. I tried EVERYTHING. I got on the bed and squatted, holding the bed posts. I sat on a “birthing stool” (a supported squat basically). I tried it on my hands and knees, I tried it on my back, I tried it on my side, I even tried sitting on the toilet. She would not come out. After a long time, the midwife had to notify the resident (doctor). The baby’s heart beat was fine, and I was fine, but they were worried because she had been stuck so long with most of her head just sitting right on the verge of delivery. Then they even called the director of the midwifery program at UCSD. She came in the room, and I had about 6 people looking at me now, and all of them kept telling me just to “push harder” and “she’ll be out with the next push for sure.” At this point I was SOOO super frustrated. All along I had been pushing with all my might. I was giving it my all, and I was exhausted. I cried and said, “you all have been telling me that for the last hour she’ll be out in another push!” But my husband reassured me that it really did look like that for the past hour. He has seen lots of deliveries and said that even he thought she would pop out any minute. I trusted my husband, so I pushed on…
But after some point I started to give up inside. I begged for an episiotomy. I even said the F word (no, not that reader, I mean Forceps…), I was so upset I was asking them to “cut her out of me, anything to stop the pain.” My perineum was on fire, and it was the “ring of fire” that some women tell you about. It was awful. The nurses were putting warm cloths on my perineum, and the midwife Beth was massaging me and trying to support me. Meanwhile, my contractions had faded to barely anything… they were not the once forceful uterine waves that were helping to expel my baby. I could barely feel them. I told Beth that I couldn’t feel any more contractions. She then told me that I was just going to have to push on my own every 5 minutes.
This went on a bit more, I pushed and pushed. I was in tears, and on the verge of an episiotomy. Beth and the midwife director agreed it needed to come to that. Beth was drawing up the lidocaine to numb me before she cut, even injected it. Then, my husband’s cell phone rang. It was my own mother. I heard her talking to my husband. She said she just arrived at the airport (she flew in from Nebraska) and wanted to know how to get to the hospital. I was angry and frustrated and yelled at my husband to get off the phone and “TELL HER TO TAKE A TAXI”. And with those words, backed with anger, frustration, fear, and pure exasperation, I gave it one more shot, and I pushed my baby out! Beth the midwife caught my baby girl and placed her wet, warm body on my belly. We both began to cry. She was the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life, and it was and is the best moment in my life. My husband cried and kissed me, and we were all glowing with love and bliss. Later my mom arrived and I told her how she inspired me to push my baby out. My husband, new daughter and I spent one that night in the birthing center all in the same big bed, exhausted but grateful and happy. We treated the staff to take-out dinner and celebrated the birth of our first child. Later that night, I could here screaming and moaning from the room next door. I smiled to myself, and sent the woman positive thoughts, and kissed my daughter on her head good night.
Jillian's stats: Born 2:35 pm on Tuesday, February 17th. 7 lbs 7 oz, 21 inches. Unmedicated vag delivery.
