Everything went exactly according to plan
Here is the birth "plan":
Have a home birth, (maybe a water birth - if I feel like it) and if theres an emergency we will transfer to the local hospital (2 minute drive). If its an elected transfer, we will make our way over to Kasier ( 20 minute drive). Everything goes exactly according to this plan.
Much of what I had created as a vision for our birth was out the window by 9pm.
I had hoped for a daytime labor so my support team ( all of whom live more then an hour away and have children) would be able to safely drive here relatively rested and awake.
I imagined quietly singing and baking a birthday cake during early labor.
I imagined that Brandon and Liam would camp in the back yard, being fire keepers fore the ceremony inside.
I fantasized about that epic water birth we see on social media where baby seemingly swims out of his mom and into her arms..
None of that happened, but there's so much else that did.... Heres the story (as I remember it - unedited from labor land brain. )
Its 9 a clock - the internet has been down most of the day, I am cleaning the house - once again, in case these contractions are actually the real thing this time. (which they haven't been the last 1/2 dozen times) - I've discovered there's a rat in trapped in the kitchen and Brandon is sleeping
....then power goes out.... Perfect. Who needs power to have a baby.
The contractions come right on time about every 5-6 minutes for about two hours.
but I can't believe its labor (we've coined this labor denial) because LAST time I went straight into full on back labor and nothing I am feeling now compares to that. So, this can't be labor.
11:00pm
The midwife tells me to take a bath if, it's not labor the contractions will subside. If it is they will not. Great, a litmus test.
The bath feels great. My whole home is lit with sparce candles, battery powered twinkle lights and Liams owl night light.
And I am sinking in.
tThe world is dark and quiet and the contractions intensify gradually, I don't even notice. Like a frog in the boiler. I decide to get out of the bath after the water cools. As soon as I get out the contractions start coming fast. A one minute contraction and a one minute break, it goes on like this for sometime.. Now I notice.. the pot is getting hot.
12:00am
I start to freak out, everyone is sleeping, and everyone is an hour a way and this baby is coming.. well not the rat.. the rat is up and milling about the kitchen.
I try to rouse Brandon with no success ( I didn't try very hard since I wanted him to be rested).
My midwife says she'll come when I have a "red contraction" (the app we are using allows her to track my contractions and their intensity: Green, yellow and red - neat huh? )
I know I need support now the contractions are feeling harder to work through alone. My Brain Hollars "LAURA!" Laura can come, Laura is Family. She often sleeps over on weekends and has an amazing tolerance for my crazy family.
... and I think theres a chance she will pick up and come. True to her character, her unfailing reliability and generosity of friendship, she picks up and says she's on the way.
1:00am
She TOO lives in hour away, but somehow (in my labor brain) she IMMEDIATELY ARRIVES . Her presence gives me strength and comfort. I quickly brief her on what to expect and how to support me through a contraction**, she does this perfectly. Between contractions I am able to be present, to laugh and connect. "A full recovery" so this can't be labor. (more labor denial) I somehow think this is going to peter out still? delusional.
This is where things start to get pretty fuzzy.
2:00am
Chelle arrives (Chelle's full name is Michelle - meaning gift from God,- which would be an understatement of her presence in my life), Chelle is my best friend that attended Liams birth (where I vomitted all over her) and gave me the honor of attending her first birth. The bond created by attending each others births is out of this world. ***more on this later. Chelle has loved me through ALL THINGS, and somehow decides to keep hanging around.
Sometime during all this the midwife decided to come even though I was still marking "yellow" for intensity...
oh yes, now I remember - I started puking. (my genius idea - into a trader joes bag... you know the brown paper ones .... yea.. this is why the lady in labor doesn't get to any problem solving.**** more on that later. ) So we called the Midwife
I get into the bath again. Since the power was out there was no pumping up the birth pool, and honestly it seemed like a lot of work anyhow.
I had also fantasized that this kid was going to just *pop* out, so why all the work of setting up a tub? Later, I found out that the pump was battery powered.. se la vie.
In my birth prep research I read about all the European women raving about CBD for birth pain. It seemed like it was administered two ways.
1) Early labor in the bath with a CBD bath bomb ( how fun is that!)
2) Smoking a joint... not exactly my speed, ok not my jam at all though sometimes I wish it was. Luckily, Laura works for a CBD oils company and spoiled me with all kinds of products.
Now Listen here....
I paid 14$ dollars for my bath bomb. I put it in my bath anticipating magical results. There was no magic***** more on this later
3:00am
In the blink of an eye the midwife is here.. THAT was magic, but not the bath bomb.
Upon entering the scene, I am working through a particularly acute contraction and she says "Still not a red contraction huh?.
I love her sense of humor. Her favorite smart-ass line when i would call to describe my false labor symptoms was 'Well, Something is happening..."
She immediately gets to work doing what midwifes do, which I have yet to discover since I have been totally preoccupied when they are doing it. At this time she is monitors the heart rate and its coming in at a healthy 130.
I get out of the bath once I realize theres no magic.
~ enter Alina, the other midwife~ magically arriving, she has the voice of an angel and a presence like Mother Teresa (Alina means Noble and Kind).
She too brings lightness when she's says "ooh - I like the vibe in here" a gentle smile across her face.
(referring to the three waning candles and battery powered nightlight.
It seemed like in unison everyone replied "the powers out". I find this really funny but I'm way down deep in Labor land so I don't say anything
using the ball to rock, hands and knees, supported, by these amazing women (which is exactly what I had wanted) we begin to notice the baby's heart rate is dropping. it accelerates with each contraction and then drops. ( strange and worrisome) the midwives and calm, listening and reflective. Then take time to step away a whisper to each other. This allows to to stay peaceful and calm.
3:30am
Brandon wakes up. disoriented, sleepy, and greeted by a house full of women and a moaning wife. He looks to be helpful, without asking the pressing questions " WHY DIDN'T ANYONE WAKE ME UP?" (for the record he was on the "Take care of Liam" team, not the Birth Team ******more on that later.
In true oaf-like manner, Brandon promptly stepped on my feet three different times - somewhere deep in my mind I thought "This is why he's not on the birth team" I don't think I was the only one with the thought.
But I was glad he was awake and could be with me in this part of labor (the really hard part)
and by some sweet miracle Liam is sleeping through it all.
I begin to bleed a little with each contractions. (not good) I poop (that's fine, and his heart rate perked up when I did, that midwife jokes "He liked that!") Magically the poop disappeared, its amazing to me what these women do selflessly and swiftly in almost complete darkness. Flashlights are now darting around the room as the energy in the room picks up.
the Midwife (Her names is LaReina, which means QUEEN and I agree) wants me to lay on my back (sounds like torture) but we need to assess station and dilation. She also wants to see if theres a position that baby's heart rate stays up that we can birth in... Chelle took pictures of this process and it does in fact look like torture which is interesting when you consider she was just asking me to position laying flat on my back for a few minutes. Which is hospitals expect you to labor and deliver for hours in this position... I wonder why women feel like they need pain meds? I digress...
By the end of the "exam" I am fully dilated and stationed at a -1.
Theres no position that improves heart rate.
And the queen asking me what I feel, what's happening with my connection to baby.
I don't feel confident. I ask for her recommendation and she recommends a transfer.
Im pretty sure this means I am having a C-section which for some reason just totally freaks me out.
But in this moment I am totally calm, I am calm because my birth team is calm.
The Noble one with the voice of an angel is checking heart rate and we meet eyes
"Alina, what do you think?" After pausing, and reflecting she so lovingly says " I think he is asking for help and we have plenty of time to get it" This moment will be burned in my mind forever. So honest, clear and compassionate. So connected.
As time stood still the amazing women are working to make sure I have what I need ( lord knows I didn't prep for a transfer, because I was still in labor denial till about 3 hours ago.) Wallet, shoes clothes - I hear the Queen on the phone with the local hospital as I begin to shuffle my way out the door.
Limping along I pause and look to Chelle - " Are they going to cut me open?" "No" she is a good liar and Im thankful for this.
two contractions later I am hobbling out of the car and I am greeted by an overweight white male and a wheelchair. He apologizes that he has to give me a mask and asks me to sit down. I stared at the seat as if I had been asked to do the impossible. Sit. with out addressing the man I kneel on the seat and try to "ride" the wheelchair sidesaddle on my knees griping the back and arm rest.
" mam, I need you to sit down"
" that's impossible"
" I just don't want you to fall off" - AS I AM GRIPPING THE SH*T out of the chair to move through the next contraction. Once it passes I reply:
" I won't fall off"
I can feel myself "waking up" out of labor land. It's bright. there are walls. and floors.... boundaries to space and time. I think "this isn't how I should feel right now". I can feel everything suddenly. the mushy warm dark place is suddenly cold and start. my skin is on and my brain is suddenly engaged.
I don't even know how I got clothes on but they're on me.
The man is apparently taking the scenic route to L & D at a leisurely pace. I can't believe I am having an emergency and *this* guy can't pick up the pace..
Brandon and I were separated at "check-in" naturally he was frustrated and feared he would miss the birth filing out papers. Fortunately he was able to catch up, I wonder why?
Once in the room "They" ask me to lay on the bed - another seemingly impossible task. It crosses my mind to just try to push the baby out right then and there, standing up. I lay down propped up on one hip- side lying-ish. Before anything happens someone is jabbing a needle into my arm
"is that necessary?" - as she digs around ..." It's just in case" she replied pulling the needle in and out and finally relinquishes to ask another person to do it.
Meanwhile, theres a flurry of commotion, I'm not sure what's happening and no ones talking to me. I assume that Im either going to be laboring for a long time or having a section. Totally disinterested in whatever bullshits next I ask for drugs.
" Oh honey, its too late for that"
" You've already come so far, you don't want that"
" you were going to do this with out meds at home, you just think you want it because your here
( yes, that's true)
" Just hold on the doctors coming and your going to get this baby out"
just then a thin, short, white male in his late 60's comes in the room. (of course, I think)
" She needs to lay all the way down " they pull out the stirrups ( of course- this is so cliche)
Brandon steps up as my Doula-Man, " Cant she do this in a different position, she's clearly really uncomfortable" ( I am awkwardly lifting half my body off the bed with my arms to relieve the pressure that would be on my backside)
The Doctor barks, "Let me deliver this baby" then a bit calmer "she'll tear if she's in a different position".... ( mmmm that's not true- so funny how they underestimate just how much I know)
I can tell the heart rate is low by listening, but no on is telling me numbers. I finally am circled by 5-6 faces, all unfamiliar. I lock eyes with one kind nurse who seems to find something encouraging or quirky to say all the time.
I get the command to start pushing with the next contraction. I don't believe this kids is really all that close (again because no one has told me his station)
I give a half-hearted gimme push and the water explodes. Now that was spectacular! I had never seen water break. It is as if a full size birthday balloon filled with water suddenly emptied its contents its warm salty contents.
The skinny white doctor addresses my not so much if a push"It's going to have to be harder then that" The faces around me become a chorus of coaching.
"Were going to count to ten"
"Give it everything you got"
"Lets get this baby out"
I had heard rumors of the coaching, and mind you if they're going to coach a baby out nows the time. But the lack of communication still has left me clueless.
then in begins - the contraction, the counting, the pushing with everything, I can feel myself wanting out, sure that I am exploding, splitting tearing or something. each of these faces either shouting, coaching, encouraging. It feels something like a fitness boot camp.
once the contraction ends - they want me to hold in place.
" I can see his hair" - I internally exclaim, "WHAT" I had no idea we were that close. I am more motivated now, though I still haven't really shook the sentiment that I was there for a c-section.
the next two pushes went just like the first coaching, cheering, cajoling, insisting. I catch Brandon eyes, he is crying. Though Im not sure why. I don't think its because he's inspired by my mighty power, I think he is scared. but I don't have time to let that in.
Out came baby- immediately screaming ( which is the first thing I hope for after birth) and as he was lifted towards me I can see he's pink and healthy.(the second thing I look for).
He is placed on my chest. I am limp. I am relaxed.
Brandon caught the doctor trying to cut the cord, and man doulas for me again, stating that we'd prefer to delay cord clamping. the doctor provided some " our standard is 45 seconds" rebuttal and then dropped it for about another minute when he came back with some statement about " Was that long enough?"
Now mind you the doctor knows something we don't, which is probably why he was in such a rush, but still that hadn't been communicated to us so we couldn't be cooperative.
the next thing I notice, the doctor is pulling the placenta out (rather than letting it be naturally delivered) I make another "Is that necessary?" comment.He starts talking unclearly about what I gather is hemmorage. He plops the placenta in a plastic bucket.
I cringe - not exactly the sacred treatment I was hoping for the Miracle Organ that kept my baby alive all term. Plus I'm planning to encapsulate it for hormone support through postpartum - which if that weird to you, be glad I'm not turning it into jerky, or Lasagna! Some mothers use it in smoothies. Most mama mammals consume their placenta. Check it out!
Just as the placenta is about to be wisked away as biohazard my amazing Doula-Man stops them and says "Were going to keep that".
The room seemingly halts into silence.
The skinny man picks up the precious organ like a dead fish and holds in in the air.
"You want this?" pointing to the placenta, then jiggling it and waving it slightly to demonstrate its deadness. "Its all torn up, bleeding and look here the cord is white and thin"
I gather from his description that he doesn't think this is a healthy looking placenta, not that he'd be hip to encapsulation anyhow.
He then clarifies that "It's going to the lab for analysis".
Still, no on has told me that I had a placental abruption. not that I even know what that is.
He returns to start addressing my now full on hemorrhage that I am blissfully unaware of.
He start handling my lower side like he was wrestling a badger. Pressing, pushing, swirling my innards around and finally I hollar "can you leave my vagina alone for one minute?!?" I had just jet propelled this baby, out of my body and wanted one second to breathe.
This is when he informs me that I've had an abruption ( thus the haggard placenta and that I am hemorrhaging. so he needs to do this to stop the bleeding.
Once he's done he steps back and says "there is one tiny tear, it will just be one suture"
quickly I say, " ITS FINE, IT WILL HEAL ON ITS OWN", which it did. My midwife thought it was silly to even consider a suture for such a cut.
He order to start pitocin, again I ask " is that necessary?" I had only heard of the pain that pitocin can cause, I had forgotten that it can be used to stop hemorrhaging. Once he explained I was of course compliant.
from this point on things were predictable hospital like for the next 36 hours or so. Ill share more about postpartum and hospitalizations another time.
Have a home birth, (maybe a water birth - if I feel like it) and if theres an emergency we will transfer to the local hospital (2 minute drive). If its an elected transfer, we will make our way over to Kasier ( 20 minute drive). Everything goes exactly according to this plan.
Much of what I had created as a vision for our birth was out the window by 9pm.
I had hoped for a daytime labor so my support team ( all of whom live more then an hour away and have children) would be able to safely drive here relatively rested and awake.
I imagined quietly singing and baking a birthday cake during early labor.
I imagined that Brandon and Liam would camp in the back yard, being fire keepers fore the ceremony inside.
I fantasized about that epic water birth we see on social media where baby seemingly swims out of his mom and into her arms..
None of that happened, but there's so much else that did.... Heres the story (as I remember it - unedited from labor land brain. )
Its 9 a clock - the internet has been down most of the day, I am cleaning the house - once again, in case these contractions are actually the real thing this time. (which they haven't been the last 1/2 dozen times) - I've discovered there's a rat in trapped in the kitchen and Brandon is sleeping
....then power goes out.... Perfect. Who needs power to have a baby.
The contractions come right on time about every 5-6 minutes for about two hours.
but I can't believe its labor (we've coined this labor denial) because LAST time I went straight into full on back labor and nothing I am feeling now compares to that. So, this can't be labor.
11:00pm
The midwife tells me to take a bath if, it's not labor the contractions will subside. If it is they will not. Great, a litmus test.
The bath feels great. My whole home is lit with sparce candles, battery powered twinkle lights and Liams owl night light.
And I am sinking in.
tThe world is dark and quiet and the contractions intensify gradually, I don't even notice. Like a frog in the boiler. I decide to get out of the bath after the water cools. As soon as I get out the contractions start coming fast. A one minute contraction and a one minute break, it goes on like this for sometime.. Now I notice.. the pot is getting hot.
12:00am
I start to freak out, everyone is sleeping, and everyone is an hour a way and this baby is coming.. well not the rat.. the rat is up and milling about the kitchen.
I try to rouse Brandon with no success ( I didn't try very hard since I wanted him to be rested).
My midwife says she'll come when I have a "red contraction" (the app we are using allows her to track my contractions and their intensity: Green, yellow and red - neat huh? )
I know I need support now the contractions are feeling harder to work through alone. My Brain Hollars "LAURA!" Laura can come, Laura is Family. She often sleeps over on weekends and has an amazing tolerance for my crazy family.
... and I think theres a chance she will pick up and come. True to her character, her unfailing reliability and generosity of friendship, she picks up and says she's on the way.
1:00am
She TOO lives in hour away, but somehow (in my labor brain) she IMMEDIATELY ARRIVES . Her presence gives me strength and comfort. I quickly brief her on what to expect and how to support me through a contraction**, she does this perfectly. Between contractions I am able to be present, to laugh and connect. "A full recovery" so this can't be labor. (more labor denial) I somehow think this is going to peter out still? delusional.
This is where things start to get pretty fuzzy.
2:00am
Chelle arrives (Chelle's full name is Michelle - meaning gift from God,- which would be an understatement of her presence in my life), Chelle is my best friend that attended Liams birth (where I vomitted all over her) and gave me the honor of attending her first birth. The bond created by attending each others births is out of this world. ***more on this later. Chelle has loved me through ALL THINGS, and somehow decides to keep hanging around.
Sometime during all this the midwife decided to come even though I was still marking "yellow" for intensity...
oh yes, now I remember - I started puking. (my genius idea - into a trader joes bag... you know the brown paper ones .... yea.. this is why the lady in labor doesn't get to any problem solving.**** more on that later. ) So we called the Midwife
I get into the bath again. Since the power was out there was no pumping up the birth pool, and honestly it seemed like a lot of work anyhow.
I had also fantasized that this kid was going to just *pop* out, so why all the work of setting up a tub? Later, I found out that the pump was battery powered.. se la vie.
In my birth prep research I read about all the European women raving about CBD for birth pain. It seemed like it was administered two ways.
1) Early labor in the bath with a CBD bath bomb ( how fun is that!)
2) Smoking a joint... not exactly my speed, ok not my jam at all though sometimes I wish it was. Luckily, Laura works for a CBD oils company and spoiled me with all kinds of products.
Now Listen here....
I paid 14$ dollars for my bath bomb. I put it in my bath anticipating magical results. There was no magic***** more on this later
3:00am
In the blink of an eye the midwife is here.. THAT was magic, but not the bath bomb.
Upon entering the scene, I am working through a particularly acute contraction and she says "Still not a red contraction huh?.
I love her sense of humor. Her favorite smart-ass line when i would call to describe my false labor symptoms was 'Well, Something is happening..."
She immediately gets to work doing what midwifes do, which I have yet to discover since I have been totally preoccupied when they are doing it. At this time she is monitors the heart rate and its coming in at a healthy 130.
I get out of the bath once I realize theres no magic.
~ enter Alina, the other midwife~ magically arriving, she has the voice of an angel and a presence like Mother Teresa (Alina means Noble and Kind).
She too brings lightness when she's says "ooh - I like the vibe in here" a gentle smile across her face.
(referring to the three waning candles and battery powered nightlight.
It seemed like in unison everyone replied "the powers out". I find this really funny but I'm way down deep in Labor land so I don't say anything
using the ball to rock, hands and knees, supported, by these amazing women (which is exactly what I had wanted) we begin to notice the baby's heart rate is dropping. it accelerates with each contraction and then drops. ( strange and worrisome) the midwives and calm, listening and reflective. Then take time to step away a whisper to each other. This allows to to stay peaceful and calm.
3:30am
Brandon wakes up. disoriented, sleepy, and greeted by a house full of women and a moaning wife. He looks to be helpful, without asking the pressing questions " WHY DIDN'T ANYONE WAKE ME UP?" (for the record he was on the "Take care of Liam" team, not the Birth Team ******more on that later.
In true oaf-like manner, Brandon promptly stepped on my feet three different times - somewhere deep in my mind I thought "This is why he's not on the birth team" I don't think I was the only one with the thought.
But I was glad he was awake and could be with me in this part of labor (the really hard part)
and by some sweet miracle Liam is sleeping through it all.
I begin to bleed a little with each contractions. (not good) I poop (that's fine, and his heart rate perked up when I did, that midwife jokes "He liked that!") Magically the poop disappeared, its amazing to me what these women do selflessly and swiftly in almost complete darkness. Flashlights are now darting around the room as the energy in the room picks up.
the Midwife (Her names is LaReina, which means QUEEN and I agree) wants me to lay on my back (sounds like torture) but we need to assess station and dilation. She also wants to see if theres a position that baby's heart rate stays up that we can birth in... Chelle took pictures of this process and it does in fact look like torture which is interesting when you consider she was just asking me to position laying flat on my back for a few minutes. Which is hospitals expect you to labor and deliver for hours in this position... I wonder why women feel like they need pain meds? I digress...
By the end of the "exam" I am fully dilated and stationed at a -1.
Theres no position that improves heart rate.
And the queen asking me what I feel, what's happening with my connection to baby.
I don't feel confident. I ask for her recommendation and she recommends a transfer.
Im pretty sure this means I am having a C-section which for some reason just totally freaks me out.
But in this moment I am totally calm, I am calm because my birth team is calm.
The Noble one with the voice of an angel is checking heart rate and we meet eyes
"Alina, what do you think?" After pausing, and reflecting she so lovingly says " I think he is asking for help and we have plenty of time to get it" This moment will be burned in my mind forever. So honest, clear and compassionate. So connected.
As time stood still the amazing women are working to make sure I have what I need ( lord knows I didn't prep for a transfer, because I was still in labor denial till about 3 hours ago.) Wallet, shoes clothes - I hear the Queen on the phone with the local hospital as I begin to shuffle my way out the door.
Limping along I pause and look to Chelle - " Are they going to cut me open?" "No" she is a good liar and Im thankful for this.
two contractions later I am hobbling out of the car and I am greeted by an overweight white male and a wheelchair. He apologizes that he has to give me a mask and asks me to sit down. I stared at the seat as if I had been asked to do the impossible. Sit. with out addressing the man I kneel on the seat and try to "ride" the wheelchair sidesaddle on my knees griping the back and arm rest.
" mam, I need you to sit down"
" that's impossible"
" I just don't want you to fall off" - AS I AM GRIPPING THE SH*T out of the chair to move through the next contraction. Once it passes I reply:
" I won't fall off"
I can feel myself "waking up" out of labor land. It's bright. there are walls. and floors.... boundaries to space and time. I think "this isn't how I should feel right now". I can feel everything suddenly. the mushy warm dark place is suddenly cold and start. my skin is on and my brain is suddenly engaged.
I don't even know how I got clothes on but they're on me.
The man is apparently taking the scenic route to L & D at a leisurely pace. I can't believe I am having an emergency and *this* guy can't pick up the pace..
Brandon and I were separated at "check-in" naturally he was frustrated and feared he would miss the birth filing out papers. Fortunately he was able to catch up, I wonder why?
Once in the room "They" ask me to lay on the bed - another seemingly impossible task. It crosses my mind to just try to push the baby out right then and there, standing up. I lay down propped up on one hip- side lying-ish. Before anything happens someone is jabbing a needle into my arm
"is that necessary?" - as she digs around ..." It's just in case" she replied pulling the needle in and out and finally relinquishes to ask another person to do it.
Meanwhile, theres a flurry of commotion, I'm not sure what's happening and no ones talking to me. I assume that Im either going to be laboring for a long time or having a section. Totally disinterested in whatever bullshits next I ask for drugs.
" Oh honey, its too late for that"
" You've already come so far, you don't want that"
" you were going to do this with out meds at home, you just think you want it because your here
( yes, that's true)
" Just hold on the doctors coming and your going to get this baby out"
just then a thin, short, white male in his late 60's comes in the room. (of course, I think)
" She needs to lay all the way down " they pull out the stirrups ( of course- this is so cliche)
Brandon steps up as my Doula-Man, " Cant she do this in a different position, she's clearly really uncomfortable" ( I am awkwardly lifting half my body off the bed with my arms to relieve the pressure that would be on my backside)
The Doctor barks, "Let me deliver this baby" then a bit calmer "she'll tear if she's in a different position".... ( mmmm that's not true- so funny how they underestimate just how much I know)
I can tell the heart rate is low by listening, but no on is telling me numbers. I finally am circled by 5-6 faces, all unfamiliar. I lock eyes with one kind nurse who seems to find something encouraging or quirky to say all the time.
I get the command to start pushing with the next contraction. I don't believe this kids is really all that close (again because no one has told me his station)
I give a half-hearted gimme push and the water explodes. Now that was spectacular! I had never seen water break. It is as if a full size birthday balloon filled with water suddenly emptied its contents its warm salty contents.
The skinny white doctor addresses my not so much if a push"It's going to have to be harder then that" The faces around me become a chorus of coaching.
"Were going to count to ten"
"Give it everything you got"
"Lets get this baby out"
I had heard rumors of the coaching, and mind you if they're going to coach a baby out nows the time. But the lack of communication still has left me clueless.
then in begins - the contraction, the counting, the pushing with everything, I can feel myself wanting out, sure that I am exploding, splitting tearing or something. each of these faces either shouting, coaching, encouraging. It feels something like a fitness boot camp.
once the contraction ends - they want me to hold in place.
" I can see his hair" - I internally exclaim, "WHAT" I had no idea we were that close. I am more motivated now, though I still haven't really shook the sentiment that I was there for a c-section.
the next two pushes went just like the first coaching, cheering, cajoling, insisting. I catch Brandon eyes, he is crying. Though Im not sure why. I don't think its because he's inspired by my mighty power, I think he is scared. but I don't have time to let that in.
Out came baby- immediately screaming ( which is the first thing I hope for after birth) and as he was lifted towards me I can see he's pink and healthy.(the second thing I look for).
He is placed on my chest. I am limp. I am relaxed.
Brandon caught the doctor trying to cut the cord, and man doulas for me again, stating that we'd prefer to delay cord clamping. the doctor provided some " our standard is 45 seconds" rebuttal and then dropped it for about another minute when he came back with some statement about " Was that long enough?"
Now mind you the doctor knows something we don't, which is probably why he was in such a rush, but still that hadn't been communicated to us so we couldn't be cooperative.
the next thing I notice, the doctor is pulling the placenta out (rather than letting it be naturally delivered) I make another "Is that necessary?" comment.He starts talking unclearly about what I gather is hemmorage. He plops the placenta in a plastic bucket.
I cringe - not exactly the sacred treatment I was hoping for the Miracle Organ that kept my baby alive all term. Plus I'm planning to encapsulate it for hormone support through postpartum - which if that weird to you, be glad I'm not turning it into jerky, or Lasagna! Some mothers use it in smoothies. Most mama mammals consume their placenta. Check it out!
Just as the placenta is about to be wisked away as biohazard my amazing Doula-Man stops them and says "Were going to keep that".
The room seemingly halts into silence.
The skinny man picks up the precious organ like a dead fish and holds in in the air.
"You want this?" pointing to the placenta, then jiggling it and waving it slightly to demonstrate its deadness. "Its all torn up, bleeding and look here the cord is white and thin"
I gather from his description that he doesn't think this is a healthy looking placenta, not that he'd be hip to encapsulation anyhow.
He then clarifies that "It's going to the lab for analysis".
Still, no on has told me that I had a placental abruption. not that I even know what that is.
He returns to start addressing my now full on hemorrhage that I am blissfully unaware of.
He start handling my lower side like he was wrestling a badger. Pressing, pushing, swirling my innards around and finally I hollar "can you leave my vagina alone for one minute?!?" I had just jet propelled this baby, out of my body and wanted one second to breathe.
This is when he informs me that I've had an abruption ( thus the haggard placenta and that I am hemorrhaging. so he needs to do this to stop the bleeding.
Once he's done he steps back and says "there is one tiny tear, it will just be one suture"
quickly I say, " ITS FINE, IT WILL HEAL ON ITS OWN", which it did. My midwife thought it was silly to even consider a suture for such a cut.
He order to start pitocin, again I ask " is that necessary?" I had only heard of the pain that pitocin can cause, I had forgotten that it can be used to stop hemorrhaging. Once he explained I was of course compliant.
from this point on things were predictable hospital like for the next 36 hours or so. Ill share more about postpartum and hospitalizations another time.
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