My unedited view of my Birth

So I told me birth story here. It was an edited version very family appropriate and did not contain too much detail if you will.

After nearly 6 months of thinking it over I really want to delve into how I feel about my birth experience. The pressure I felt from 2 very different view points that forced me to feel I lost my own opinion and simply merged what I wanted to happen into someone else's view.

I had some serious health concerns during my third trimester. Excruciating pain, coupled with fever. It sucked, blah blah blah and I had a transfer of care completed from my team of midwives to an OB. I was scared. At one point when I asked about the option of pursuing a natural childbirth, the OB advised me that I'd be begging for an epidural. Thanks, super encouraging. I was also advised at 35 weeks to be ready for my baby to be born at any time due to dropping amniotic fluid and a possibility of stillbirth. To which I suggested they simply do a c-section to get my tiny man out, I could feel him kicking, so I was sure he'd be able to cope with being born a few weeks early. Luckily the amniotic fluid went up and I was advised he'd probably be fine. Probably.

At this point I'd been seeing a homeopath, acupuncturist, chiropractor, OB and midwife for about a month anywhere from weekly to multiple times a week. I was trying to do everything that I could to make the right healthy choice for my unborn babe. Feeling pressure beyond belief.

An induction was scheduled and attempted at 37 weeks as I'd been on non-stop antibiotics and repeated rounds of morphine to t3's to extra-strength tylenol. This induction was horrible. I went into the hospital anxious and excited and ready to meet my little. Then I spent 36 hours being poked and prodded by the OB's on staff at the hospital with cervidil and finally advised to go home and maybe we'd try again next week. What ensued was a sudden unwarned stretch and sweep at the OB's office to which I screamed out in pain (sorry if you were in the waiting room) and then advised we could maybe try another induction.

Pause. I am very lucky that my OB did not suggest a C-section following the failed induction, one point for him.

That week we tried another induction with a cervical balloon. They put it in which hurt, like a nonstop pap, you know that few seconds of pain, imagine that continually (if you're a boy, it just freaking hurt). We were told it should subside, so we decided to head home. We drove the 30 minutes home, stood in a hot shower with much grunting and moaning, we finally realized that the hot water would indeed run out. So back into the car for another 30 minutes drive back to the hospital. Where I almost laid across the desk on the maternity floor and almost begged someone to take out the balloon. They took it out quickly and we were advised it had worked, I was now 2 cm dilated. So I rested that night and got ready for the next morning's scheduled induction.

Thursday morning. Doctor comes in at roughly 9:30 am. I am in the bathroom going pee but feel utterly rushed to meet the OB's timing needs of breaking my water because if I don't jump off the toilet at that moment, he may leave and that would delay everybody. No pressure or rush though right? So off the toilet I jump, onto the bed and my water is promptly broken. Weirdest feeling ever. I ask about being able to labor on my own without having pitocin through an IV. Promptly advised by the OB that he used to let women try to do that, but they always ended up on pitocin, so now he didn't give that option. Start pitocin at 2ml/upped by 2ml every half hour.

Thinking back...WHAT? Why didn't I speak up more or say that I wanted it a certain way, or just give me an hour to try? Why didn't I fight, does this make me a bad mom?

So by 11:30am I am 4 cm dilated I was in pain (babe was posterior). I had been somewhat ready but it still shocks you a little, or a lot. Okay a lot! My doula and Paul got me onto the birthing ball, which was my only other option then laying on my back on the bed. The #1 worst way to give birth. I lasted 2 contractions on the birthing ball then demanded drugs. Due to the pitocin I was not allowed off of the fetal monitor, therefore could only move a foot from my bed, no walking around, no hot water no relief.

I asked my nurse about the option of morphine or demerol. She was quick to advise me that if I was in this much pain I'd better just take the epidural now, and the anesthesiologist was on the floor so I'd get it fast, I wouldn't have to wait for the regular up to an hour wait for it. This sounded terrific, of course if you tell me I can't handle it, and don't really even offer me any other option of pain relief I am going to take the one you offer. Enter horrible mother feeling.

Before This moment I'd fully planned on doing everything natural natural natural. We had a home waterbirth planned, we had the tub booked, we'd forewarned my parents. My dad and I had fought about it and not spoken for a few weeks over it. I was going to have me one of those I crouch down and the baby pops out kinda labors. I had a doula, I'd spoken to my acupuncturist about attending.

After adjusting to a completely upturned birth plan I'd hoped to try some pain management other than an epidural right off the bat, but felt that option was never really given. Why? Why didn't I fight for it? Because the idea in that moment of getting whatever I could ASAP was what seemed to matter most. Looking back I feel like I should have spoken up more.

Epidural in, relief from pain, luckily still some feeling of the contractions, so they upped the epidural and gave me a pump, not wanting to see pain from a laboring mama.

I was checked at 1 pm by the nurse I was at 4cm still. Checked at 3 pm and I was 10+ cm. Begin shaking and fretting. I was so overwhelmed when they told me I was ready. To me I'd been mentally preparing these last 9 months for a 24-48 hour labor. How could I be fully dilated in 5 hours?

I did the passive pushing my nurse recommended for about an hour. She then came in and told me that I was ready to start really pushing. I am so glad that my epidural had worn off slightly. I felt no pain but I did feel the urge to push. I was nervous of all of a sudden feeling pain so I inquired and our nurse told me it would be for the last 5 minutes of pushing.

So the pushing began at 4:30pm and for 37 minutes I pushed my little man out. I had one leg on my midwife, one leg on my nurse, one hand in my doula's and one hand in Paul's, with my mom beside him. I pushed quietly and felt every time I needed to push and somehow mustered up the energy to do it again and again. At one point our nurse advised me I could touch his head, his squishy moist head. Paul felt it as well and my mom got a good look (she has since then advised me that she need not look ever again in not so many words). Feeling his head right there almost out was so bizarre and exciting.

 Let me say how absolutely hilarious it is to me that I only saw my OB one time during my labor other than him breaking my water. When I felt the urge to do some of my last pushes I remember asking our nurse Joella when it would start hurting, she said if it wasn't already hurting, it wouldn't. The doctor then came in for my last 2 pushes and promptly demanded to know where his student was, the student I'd met and was fine with being there but I'd been asked about having a male student in the birth from the nurse just moments before and I knew the student I'd approved was a female so I said no. The nurse respected my wishes and did not admit the student, the doctor just brought her in after I had said NO. Luckily it was the student I knew and it worked out, but thanks for respecting my wishes?

The doctor literally grabbed my babe as he rushed out in one big push, that was his big part in it, breaking my water, starting pitocin, signing off on an epidural and catching my son oh and the one more push and out the placenta came.

The relief following the push was so immense. To have a screaming slimy baby placed on your chest in so utterly bizarre and surreal. I remember grabbing his hands and holding them, and looking into Paul's tearful eyes and then welling up in my own realization that I'd indeed done it. I'd given birth.

I'd wanted to see the placenta after, but it was quickly whisked away. The doctor allowed the student to stitch me without my consent. If ever somewhere needed a good stitching job it is in that moment. I guess he checked the stitches after because 20 minutes later he was the one doing something down there and the student was to his side.

Then everyone had something to do and finally they weighed my little and brought him back to attempt breastfeeding.

So overall did I have a happy healthy baby. Yes. Did I win that I am supernatural women medal, no. Did I feel somewhat like a mama failure. Not just yet.

The failure feeling was to come in the following weeks.