Birth Story

This birth story has such a unique place in my heart. My desire for a natural birth was so strong. I studied, and studied, and read, and studied, and stressed. Boy, did I stress. My fear of a repeat cesarean drove me to extremes. I had a couple of panic attacks and drove my husband crazy. This pregnancy came so unexpectedly. So quickly! I remember crying when I found out. Not because I didn’t want my baby, but because my c-section scared me so much. Not only that, but I felt like Ellie was being cheated. I was already feeling so sick and there were days that all Ellie did was watch Baby Einstein. I had to stop breastfeeding because my milk dried up. I felt like such a failure even though it was just my body making sure this new baby was getting the proper nutrients.

As time went on, I had stopped worrying so much about all the bad that could happen and started to just trust that what would happen would happen. My body knew what to do and I was determined to let it work the way it was meant to. I got a doula, which eased my mind tremendously and I decided that natural birth was the best way for me to avoid another section. My nausea, of course, went away, and Ellie got her mom back for the majority of the pregnancy. I look back on those times and wish that I had appreciated them more. Especially nights when she would snuggle on my shoulder before bed. I don’t get those moments as much anymore now that baby boy is here. It’s hard when you have two great kids that you want to spend as much time as possible with.

Fast forward to January 10^th. My contractions woke me up at 6:30. They were mild but different from the ‘pre’ contractions I’d been feeling since December. I knew this was the beginning. I started timing them but they were mostly far apart and irregular so I settled into the fact that soon I’d be meeting my baby. I ate breakfast and tried to go back to sleep. Around 8:00 Ryan and Ellie woke up and I let him know what was happening. We went for a walk to try and speed things up but didn’t get far before I felt absolutely starving again. Really, I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. So we headed down to the local pub to pick up some breakfast burritos.

Things started to slow down a bit so I took a nap. I was lucky it was a Saturday so grandma and dad were there to take full time care of Ellie. During my nap, it was like my contractions disappeared. When I did have one though it was intense. Once I woke up, that intensity was matched with consistency. Things picked up and I started to make noises during contractions. I called my doula to come over. Once she was here she took a look at me and said that I was probably still going through pre-labor. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the hospital ‘early’ and get trapped there. They had a stupid policy that VBAC’s (vaginal birth after a cesarean) had to be monitored consistently in case of uterine rupture (which is a 1% chance, by the way). I did not want to be tied down so I listened to her advice and stayed home.

She left and I took a shower to help ease the pain. I tried to sleep but it was so painful! I couldn’t help but think that I was just being a baby and I was probably only dilated to a 3 or something. My worst fear was a repeat of last time. Going to the hospital after all that work at home and only being dilated to a 3. Regardless of my fear, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to go to the hospital. So we packed up, sent Lisa (my doula) a text, and left for the hospital. I quickly ate half of a banana (which I would soon regret). While in the car, my contractions got crazy painful. They were coming 2-3 minutes apart! We got to the hospital around midnight and they checked us in immediately. I tensed with fear as they checked my cervix. To my great relief I was at a 7! Not only was my reaction to the pain justified, but I was also progressing! Something I never thought possible!

Lisa arrived and the hard part began. I switched positions several times. The most comfortable was on hands and knees resting on a ball but things didn’t seem to progress in that position and they couldn’t pick up the baby on the monitor. I tried several positions that were comfortable for me but the position that they wanted me in the most was on my left side. Every time I was on my left side I started to throw up. My contractions were so painful, so quick, that my body couldn’t help but empty itself. The banana was definitely a mistake. As was the bowl of coco puffs I’d eaten earlier that day. Yuck.

As the pain and throwing up increased, I found myself fighting labor. I became so angry that I was experiencing so much pain and that the only way for me to speed up the process was to be in even MORE pain. Stronger pain. It terrified me and my fear, inevitably, stalled my labor. The doctor checked me a couple hours after I came in. I was at an 8. Not what you want to hear after so much work. I complained, I wailed, I cried, I screamed. I WANTED an epidural. I was tired. Not just tired. I was exhausted. At one point, I started losing control of my body after a contraction was done and just falling asleep. I’d never felt anything like it. Ryan says that I didn’t look like myself. My eyes rolled around like I was possessed and, at times, that’s certainly what it felt like. It wasn’t just the pain of the contractions but everything. The sickness, the waves of pain. It’s difficult to describe.

In my darkest moment, my desire to give up overcame me. I looked at Lisa and Ryan and said through a choked voice, “I WANT an epidural.” Lisa quietly but sternly said, “Nobody is forcing you to do this, Sally.”

That’s when I realized that I wanted them to choose for me so I didn't have to. I would tell them that I wanted an epidural, but I never actually asked a nurse. I never made the move to get an epidural because I didn’t want to quit on something I’d tried so hard to accomplish. And if I did quit, I wanted to trick my mind into believing it was someone else’s choice. I felt like a coward.

The doctor came in and suggested we break my water to help me progress through this horrible transition. I consented, though I was horrified that the pain was inevitably going to get worse. Once my water was broken I felt like my mind receded into a cave. I went into myself trying to do what Lisa said and just ‘let things happen’. Things became a bit of an excruciating blur. The nurses would try to adjust my monitor and I would cry for them to stop touching me. I just wanted to be left alone to let my body work.

The next thing I remember was being checked. I was at a 9 and a half. Lisa warned me that soon I would feel pressure. Soon I would feel the urge to push. I remember the first time I felt it I screamed out, “Pressure!”

It was such an incredibly bizarre feeling. I always thought I would need to be told when to push. But my body did it almost involuntarily. Without my consent. My hands and face started to go numb and Lisa had to help me breathe properly. They placed an oxygen mask on me and I had both Ryan and Lisa on either side so I could squeeze their hands during a contraction. I made a lot of noise. Ryan said it sounded like a goat being sacrificed, which makes me laugh now because I remember being loud. I was doing what I felt was necessary to get my baby out. From all my research of birth on YouTube I realized that some women were vocal during labor and some were silent. Considering the fact that I’m a singer and a bit of a loud mouth anyway, it wasn’t a big surprise.

The doctor finally came in and checked me. The baby making his way down the birth canal. She started to get ready to catch him. I remember her saying, “Sally, you are doing some really effective pushing so you need to wait for me to get ready.” I did my best to stop my body from pushing but the pain was unbearable. Luckily, she got ready quickly and I was able to push again.

The doctor and Lisa were both shouting things at me but because I was making so much noise I could barely hear them. Ryan, bless him, has the loudest voice of anyone I know and he was repeating their instructions over the sound of my tortured goat noises. At one point, he yelled that the baby’s hand was resting on the side of his face and that the doctor would have to push it back inside before I could fully deliver him. I don’t remember feeling her do it because I was in this crazy primal place, but even now, he likes to have his hand next to his face. I pushed and pushed and within 10 minutes of pushing he was out. This new little person had entered the room, entered our lives.

The rush was beyond anything I’d ever felt. Whatever tearing I was experiencing in my crotch area was magically numb due to the hormones being released. My sweet, purple, slimy baby was placed on my chest and I was overwhelmed with that feeling I’ve only felt once before. I knew his face. I knew his cry. It was so familiar without me having ever seen him or heard him before. I knew him. He cried into my chest for about a minute until he looked up and saw my face. Maybe not saw me as much as heard my voice. He was so aware. All he did was stare up at me trying to figure out this new world.

Marcus James Powell was born 9:26 on January 11^th, 2015. He weighed 7lbs 3.5oz and was 20in tall.

I received what the doctor referred to as ‘side wall tearing’ though I had no perineal tears. Soon after Marcus was born I was walking to our recovery room. Walking! I was so relieved! The pain I had, though not comfortable, was a blessing compared to the c-section pain I experienced a year ago. I was amazed at how comfortable I felt. I could take a shower if I wanted. I could go to the bathroom without feeling like my insides were falling out. Even now, I’m overwhelmed with how wonderful recovery was. I could pick up my baby. What a blessing! I could care for him all on my own without agonizing pain! I could pick up Ellie and cuddle her. I could walk around the block! I could keep going, but I won’t. This whole experience was so healing for me. I kept wishing I had had it with Ellie but it made me appreciate her more as well. Even though the process of labor was the most challenging thing I’d ever experienced, I was so full of happiness. I was so full of joy! I look at my two babies now and wish I hadn’t felt so much fear. Things have been challenging, of course, but I am so proud to have these two babies in my life. I am proud of myself. Proud of my husband. Proud of my kids. I’m so in love with my family and so lucky to have the opportunity to go through these hard and wonderful things.

I want to post pictures but for now, I hope you’ll all be satisfied with the birth story.