Our birth story starts out pretty quick. After trying everything we could to induce naturally, we finally got the party started while we were watching birth videos. Around 8pm on Saturday evening, I heard/felt something "pop" and felt some wetness. I ran to the bathroom and figured it was my water. I had been slowly leaking throughout the day, but this was more, plus it was tinged with blood. Then the contractions came. They were pretty intense from the get go, and they were already less than 5 minutes apart. We decided to call our doula, Trina. She was on her way. I was a little concerned because there seemed to be so much blood. I told RT that I just wanted to get to the hospital. I know our plan was to labor as much as possible at home, but with all this blood, I was too worried to be relaxed.
As we headed out the door, I thought to myself, I can't continue all this moaning and groaning. I'm barely in the beginning of this. I confessed to RT that I didn't think I could go through with this.
In the car, I rationalized with myself and told myself to work through the pain. I must've been able to because RT said that in the car I was really quiet and seemed to be in a zone.
Trina followed us to the hospital, and we were admitted right away without having to stop for an exam.
The contractions were getting more and more painful. We tried all kinds of different positions. We tried the shower, which felt so good! I was already exhausted. We were going on 5 hours. I was examined and only dilated to a 4. I was so defeated after hearing this. I couldn't go on. Oh, and to top it all off, I was also puking my guts out the entire time. RT seemed to have blocked that part out, but I sure didn't! I said I wanted the epidural. RT and Trina kind of talked me through my decision, reminding me what I wanted. I relunctantly agreed and decided I would continue on without any meds.
Another 6 hours goes by with more of the same---changing positions, the ball, the shower, working through contractions. Nothing seemed to be working. I was checked again and was only at 6. If I was disappointed before, I was devastated this time! I really couldn't go on. I was just so tired. I didn't care at this point. I begged for the epidural. After talking to everyone else, they were secretly hoping that I would get one.After laboring for 11 hours, I was just so exhausted. I couldn't face dealing with the waves of contractions anymore. By this time, we had been up for over 24 hours. Relief finally came, and it allowed us to get some rest. The day progressed and even after another 12 hours, I wasn't fully dilated. (We later learned that I had some scar tissue on my cervix, which was preventing me from dilating---go figure!).

Finally, around 8pm on Saturday I dilated to a 10! Whoo-hoo! While this was a good thing, I was hooked onto the epidural and really couldn't feel anything. I asked them to take me off. They said it would take a while to wear off. They advised me to slowly back off, but I said that I wanted to fully off so I could feel my contractions and work through them and hopefully push her out.

So, more time goes by. Somewhere around 10pm, the epidural wears off and I can feel my contractions. I push for about 2 hours. Each push, Trina, RT, and the nurses kept saying, you're so close. We can see the head. Almost there. What does that mean? You've been saying it for 2 hours, but really what do you mean?

I was exhausted again, and just couldn't take anymore. I begged them to just get this baby out of me. The doctor on call came in, Dr. Goodrich. She decided to use the vacuum extraction. Their policy was to only use the extraction for a total of 10 minutes. Each time we tried it, it seemed the baby moved a little bit, but in the end it made no difference. By now, another hour and a half goes by. I knew at this point, if the vacuum didn't work, they'd for sure wheel me in for a C-section.

Luckily, thankfully, Trina suggested the bar. The bar goes over the bed and I lie back with my feet against the bar to push while a sheet is draped over the bar and I used both ends of the sheet as counterforce. Trina also suggested bringing out the mirror. (Now, I don't know why in my head I was picturing this little handheld mirror! What they wheeled out was sufficient for me to see it all!) I wasn't too keen on the mirror, but it actually helped me to see exactly what was happening. I saw her head. It was what I needed to spurn me on!

I gathered all the strength I had left in me. I knew I had to do this in a few pushes--this was the last stitch effort before surgery. After each agonizing push, the head was moving forward. I didn't even wait for the contractions anymore. I just wanted to keep pushing. I don't know where I got my energy. My muscles in my arms felt like lead. My legs were so stiff, I didn't think I would ever be able to put them back into their right positions. We did 3 rounds of pushing. The first round was always the most forceful and the most powerful in terms of holding my breath and then expelling it. By the 3 round, I'd petered out.

After so many pushes, a total of 4 hours of pushing, I knew THIS was my last push. If she didn't come out now, it was surgery time. The nurses were whispering. They had the NICU team assembled. Throughout it all, the baby showed no signs of distress. I pushed so hard, kept going until I felt like I was going to pass out forever, going, going, going, and I felt a POP! Her head was out! I have never felt such a rush of emotions and relief as I did in that moment! I was told to stop so Dr. Goodrich could suction her. I was waiting for the ring of fire that I read about, but never felt it. I think I was too exhausted and delirious to feel any pain. Then I was told to push again, and she slid right out. Dr. Goodrich was caught off guard, but luckily, she caught her!

She was immediately placed on my chest. I will never forget that moment. All time stood still as I held my daughter for the first time. I get emotional even as I write this. After some time on my chest, the nurses had to take her and examine her since she did have quite a bit of meconium. It could be from distress since she was stuck in the birth canal for almost 3 days! Or, since I was a week overdue, it couldn't been from that.

Everything checked out great! We heard her crying and then she was put back on my chest. She started suckling right away!

I, however, was not finished. Apparently, my uterus was still contracting and I was losing a lot of blood. That is why Trina put the baby on my chest to stimulate contractions. They also adminstered Pitocin and Cytotec (not recommended while baby is in utero!) and to be even progressive, administered some shot to stop the hemorrhaging. All this, while trying to stitch me up, because of course, I did tear A LOT.

Finally, all the chaos was done. My family had stayed until about 1:30 am. I pushed Little P out at 2:32 am on Monday morning...if only they would've hung on for another hour! It was such a bummer since they were here from the very beginning when I entered the hospital on Saturday night. RT's parents came Sunday morning and luckily, were still in the waiting room. So, they were the first ones to meet her!

Although we were both so exhausted beyond belief, we were also on a high and couldn't sleep or wind down. We just kept staring at her. She looked so beautiful, and it was overwhelming to soak it all in.

At some point, we drifted off to sleep. I held the baby in my arms and dozed off for a little while. My body was physically a wreck. I couldn't walk or sit for the first couple of weeks--I was so sore, bruised, and swollen. I didn't count on this part as part of postpartum--it was difficult to adjust. RT had to help me a lot since I wasn't able to move around so much. It would take me a full 6 weeks to even bounce back to feeling normal. I realized that even though I was dedicated to working out during my pregnancy, and that for sure all that strength training got me through this difficult labor, my body didn't belong to a twenty-something year-old and boy did it let me know it!

Our new life had begun. In the next few weeks, as we got to know our daughter and adjusted to parenthood, we faced a lot of challenges and a lot of joyous moments. The first 6 weeks of being a new parent are the toughest. Little P did not like to sleep in her bassinet, so she was sleeping on my chest (on her tummy--against all APA recommendations). Being sleep-deprived, ravenous round the clock, and still tender and sore from labor does not pair well with a crying baby. What we found to work for us was to sit on the big yoga ball and bounce with her. That was a sure-fire way to get her to sleep. We also took her to a baby chiropractor. It made sense after all the trauma she went through during labor. We noticed she wasn't turning her head to the left and had trouble nursing from that side. We tried everything to stop the constant crying. It seemed like she hardly slept. We powered through it and eventually found her likes and dislikes. Then, miraculously at the 6-week milestone, things changed and our life got a little easier.

We figured most folks forget this very trying time in a newborn and new parents' life because no one ever mentioned it to us. No one ever shared with us how hard it is. Looking back on it now, it does seem so distant. In hindsight, it does seem like what we went through was normal. I guess it's part of the initiation into the parenthood fraternity/sorority!

If I had to do all over again, I would do the pregnancy and even the labor and delivery. Our doula, Trina, was so awesome. Our experience would have been so different and probably not a good one if she wasn't a part of it. At this time in our lives, we're very content with just one. And, at my age, it's hard to imagine doing this to my body again in a few years. As my doctor told me, "You're no spring chicken!" He is no longer my general practioner by the way.

Only time will tell what the future will bring...