Labor stories

Saturday March 25th I think I knew in the back of my head labor would be coming on. Chris and I finished everything we needed to do that day and settled down like normal that night for bed. Its was about 11pm... Chris was sketching something and I was starting to get really mild contractions. They were 10 mins apart. I was so confused because they were so light and not painful like I remember so I thought it was the braxton hicks again. I got online and bugged Holly(hippyfreek) for advice... She calmed me down (I was pretty dang excited and confused, lol) and I kept counting contractions. Around 2am I think it was they came to 5 minutes apart so Chris, me and his mom drove to the hospital and left the kids with Chris's step dad. We got there and I laid down, had some ice and was checked. I was 3 cm dialated. A half hour later 4 almost 5 cm dialated... At this point I still wasn't bugged by the contractions. Chris's aunt kathy then showed up so I had my emotional support team all there. Poor Chris was so freaked out, excited and having no idea what to expect. Labor kept progressing and the contractions were still mild and then all of a sudden I went into heavy labor. I had 15 minutes of heavy labor contractions when I felt the urge to push. They checked me and I was ready. They gave me the go ahead to push... I pushed, one big push and she was born... I needed one more to help her the rest of the way out but she was so easy and my adrenline was rushing. The time the was 4:42 am. Riley was born 5 pounds and 14 oz. I was 37 weeks pregnant. She was healthy and happy... and she breastfed right away. I couldn't have been happier. She was quick, easy and healthy!

 

One of my biggest fears about having a baby is the virth - but after reading your stories they sound bloody amazing - yay you mummy and daddys lol

 

Olivia Jo -- 10 days “over due”

Being 10 days past my due date, I was restless, uncomfortable, depressed and anxious. All I could think was, “when is this baby going to come”. On April 7th, my midwife gave me a homeopathic to try to start my labor, but that failed. On April 8th, Lynn and I finally decided to have sex to try to get things going. I’m not the horny pregnant type but sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do. That night, I was very crampy, but I went to bed as usual. Come the early morning hours, I just couldn’t sleep. I laid in bed after Lynn went to work and did a little “body stimulation” on my own to try to get things going. I got out of bed about 6am, sat down in front of the tv and had a nice little hormonal breakdown and by 6:30 I had my first contraction. By 8:30, even though the contractions weren’t painful, were very short and were very far apart, I was pretty convinced that I was going to have my babe by nightfall.

I wanted to keep myself busy, so I did some light cleaning, cut a bunch of fruit for the next week, did some laundry etc.. I called Lynn (my husband) at work to tell him I thought things would be happening today, but that we had plenty of time on our hands. He stayed at work waiting to hear from me. In the meantime, I kept busy at home making a birthday cake, glancing at the clock when I felt a contraction. They were so sporadic it was discouraging, yet I was still confident things would happen. I called my midwife to let her know that things were happening, just happening slowly. Lynn decided he’d come home at 2 ish. When he got home, him and Maggie (my 2yo daughter) took a nap and Baylee (my 4yo daughter) and I took a walk. We got once around the block and she couldn’t keep up, so we went home, grabbed the stroller and walked for another half hour or so. In the meantime, Anna (my female support) and her kiddos were on the way to our house. The contractions were coming more regularly but were still small and short. Kinda discouraging to say the least.

Lynn started putting the birthing pool together.

I forget when Anna arrived, probably around 3:30 or so. She got here, then went to the store for some mac n cheese because that’s what I wanted to eat for some reason. The kids and I ate, then shortly after Anna took all the kids outside to play.

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I called the midwife to tell her that things just weren’t progressing and she said to just try to ignore the early labor. Easier said then done.

I told Lynn to give the pool a rest and let the water heater try to catch up. I shed some tears. Then he suggested we have sex. What a good husband. I called my midwife to ask it that was ok and she said to have at it. We went upstairs, did our business then I laid in bed for a bit. The first contraction after sex was about double the intensity and painfulness then the others before sex. I labored in bed alone for a short time, then called Lynn in to lay with me and rub my back. He saw one or two contractions and his instincts kicked in and he started working on the pool again. I think he knew more then me at this point. I lay in bed a little while longer then came downstairs to time the contractions. 5:22 is stuck in my head at this point. It felt SO GOOD to kneel and lean on something during the contractions so I just paced in the kitchen and headed to the living room when I felt a contraction coming and I’d kneel and lean on various pieces of furniture. The pool was about full by now and the pains were coming every couple minutes but they were still only about 30 seconds long (at most). I was so confused by this. I do remember telling Lynn earlier when we were upstairs that I could do this if the pains stayed this short. They never got longer, thankfully.

I called my midwife again to tell her that she needs to head over. She was about 45 minutes away.

I remember collapsing on the couch between a pain and I just didn’t want to get up.

I remember going in the bathroom and taking a huge dump too. Weird but there was just not enough room for poo and babe at that point. It’s really weird to poop while having a contraction.

I also remember putting my sweater and slippers on because I got the chills. It was about this time that I got in the pool…

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AHHHHH, what a relief! I went from moaning and saying “ouch, ouch, ouch” to just breathing through the pains. The water really helped. The kids and Anna were still outside at this point and Lynn was boiling water to get the pool up to temp. I enjoyed being in the pool by myself and being left alone. I really thought I’d want my kids in the pool, but that’s just not how it turned out. I wanted to be left alone.

I have no idea of the time at this point.

I remember feeling a little urge to push during a pain and I thought it was just a fluke so I didn’t mention it to Lynn. Even though I’ve delivered two babies before, I’ve never felt the urge to push because I’ve had epidurals. I told Lynn to call the midwife to see how far away she was. I don’t remember getting the answer to my question. Apparently she said to call back if my water breaks and I felt like pushing. A couple minutes later, that exact thing happened. There was NO MISTAKING the urge to push this time. He called the midwife back and she said if we want to slow thing down, to get me outta the tub. That was NOT going to happen. So we chose to have me pant through the urges. Lynn panted with me and I was also on the phone with the midwife through a couple pains. That really helped and the panting, “pah, pah, paaaaahhh” really helped. I *think* this is about the time the kids and Anna came in. I was getting tired of holding myself up so Anna held me up from behind. I remember her and Lynn trying to switch, but mine and Anna’s bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. I think the kids were in the living room at this point.

I remember the door slamming open, the midwife clicking her flashlight on and shining it on my cootch and her telling me to do whatever I wanted with the next contraction. The babe was born minutes later. I had never felt a body coming out of my body before either, but I was surprised at how much it hurt. I remember screaming, “GET IT OUTTA ME!!!!” That was the first time I ever called my unborn child “it”. Once her head was out, her body was a breeze. I think I only pushed twice, once for her head and once or her body.

So, she was out and someone wrapped a towel around her and I peaked to find her girlyness under her umbilical cord. I’ll say I was shocked, I was totally expecting a boy.

She was born at 6:30pm

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We got out of the tub after just a couple minutes because it was a bit too cool for babe. We got me and babe to the couch where I held and nursed my babe and delivered my plecenta. The midwife made some prints and I’ll do something cool and artsy with those I’m sure.

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This was, by far, the coolest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.

This was after the birth:

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Wonderful story! Congratulations, mama!

 

What a beautiful family, congradulations, thanks for sahring.

 

Moire Alison
May 15, 2006
11.05 PM PST
7 lbs 3 oz, 19 inches long

Saturday afternoon, I had taken some castor oil. I was desperate for something to start. Nothing was working. I had tried walking every part of Seattle I could think of, blue cohosh, castor oil, masturbation, sex. NOTHING would budge this child from my womb. And with my mother only in town so long, I just became beside myself with desperation.

Saturday night, I found myself on my hands and knees in the kitchen, scrubbing down the floor with a small plastic scrubby. My mother was giggling herself silly and poking fun at me. I never clean, let alone on my hands and knees. So she knew something was up. But I went to bed that night still very much pregnant and frustrated.

5 am, I awoke with a start. I felt sort of a pop and a bit of fluid. But I just assumed I'd peed in my sleep. I rush to the bathroom, but instead of urine in my panties, I found a bit of greenish staining. I woke Brian up and headed for the phone to call my midwife.

I called Heike, and she was excited. So far, our little angel was 9 days overdue and everyone was waiting anxiously, even our midwife. She said not to worry about the meconium. Just to start timing the imminent contractions and come in when they were 5 minutes apart.

9 am, and I’m feeling contractions every five minutes. But they’re not strong or long, but I seriously want to be reassured about the meconium and see how everything’s doing. So Heike tells us to come on in.

Once there, I’m checked. I’m 5 cm dilated. WOOHOO! However, Heike’s checking me really roughly and with a very serious look on her face. She keeps apologizing for the roughness. She’s concerned about what she’s feeling. She can’t tell if it’s the baby’s head or her bum, which is why she’s being so rough. I’m totally convinced it’s a head, as I’ve been kicked never-ending in my ribs for weeks. After what feels an eternity, Heike agrees with me. Baby’s head is just amazingly molded to my opening after weeks of sitting head down. When I get up, there’s amniotic fluid, meconium, and blood all over the sheets. Brian’s looking ill at the sight and my mom’s just beside herself.

They give me my first dose of antibiotics, as I’m GBS positive. I power through contractions for most of the day. Brian helps me through, doing absolutely everything he can to make me comfortable. He’s my leaning post while we’re walking around, he presses on my back when the back labour makes me feel like I’m going to be ripped in two from behind, and cuddles me whenever he can. But the contractions just don’t get closer together. They’re never very close together and when I’m checked about 6 pm, I’m only 5.5 cm dilated. Heike sends me home with the prescription of a dose of castor oil and a night’s sleep. They give me another dose of antibiotics before I go.

At home, I send mom and Brian to bed, take the castor oil, and head to bed myself confident that I’ll be waking up at 3 am ready to push. Boy, am I wrong.

DAY TWO…We battle on…

After a night of waking every couple of hours with a need to potty but no need to push, I’m exhausted. I’ve had contractions every once in a while but nothing to warrant calling Heike. At about 8.30, we give her a call and she has us come in again. We take my third dose of antibiotics and check me. I’m 6 cm dilated. My contractions become consistent, hard, and powerful when I’m walking around but I’m so exhausted that I just don’t have the stamina to keep walking through them.

I’m checked at noon and I’ve not dilated anymore despite some hard contractions. Heike and I agree that I’m exhausted and need some help. I make the decision to call a hospital and transfer. My biggest concern for my baby and myself is avoiding a c-section. I’ll do whatever for the good of my baby, even a hospital transfer.

So Heike starts calling around the area to find a hospital to take me. My first choice is FULL. And most other hospitals, get this, won’t take fat people. WHY? Because they don’t have big enough beds. Bullshit. One third of the nation is overweight, clinically obese, and these hospitals can refuse to care for them? In the middle of my labour, I’m almost ready to march on Capitol Hill in protest. Finally, Heike calls in a favour with a friend at Swedish Hospital, the lead perinatologist. She not only finds me a bed, but guarantees me good care.

So, our student midwife Kristin follows us to the hospital to help settle us in. We’ve known her most of the pregnancy. She was with our first midwife when we first started care and I immediately took to her. At 1.45, I’m checked in, put into my gown, and they start taking my history. I agree to an epidural. For one, I know I would not have been able to handle the intensity of pitocin-induced contractions and two, I really needed at least a tiny nap. At this point, I’m looking at how to best avoid a c-section. I’m almost paranoid by the possibility.

They call in an anesthesiologist to put in my IV because my veins are rolling and to put in my epidural. At this point, I show how educated I am on my rights and the issues surrounding hospital birth. Thanks to Maggie Sugar, I request that the only one that touch my back be a board certified anesthesiologist. In talking to me a bit more, the nurses find that I know my shit. I’m not just some dumb young’un in to have a kid.

The anesthesiologist gets my IV in, and puts in my epidural. I cry during this. A part of me, despite knowing I’m doing the best for my baby, feels like I’m failing. Plus, I’m afraid of the epidural. Brian strokes my hair and cuddles me from the front. If it hadn’t been for him, I don’t know what I would have done.

At this point, I try to sleep. They put in the pitocin drip and I take a nap for about twenty minutes. But with doctors coming in and out every five minutes, it’s difficult to stay asleep. I’m not wanting any decisions to be made without my knowledge and I want to know every professional opinion that graces my doorway.

The baby and I, throughout all this, are doing fine. Her heart rate remains perfect and my vitals are always splendifiorous. However, at 7.30 pm, a male doctor that I hadn’t seen before and didn’t see again after this visit, came in swiftly, checked me roughly and in a very impersonal way says that I’m only 8 cm and that if I’m not complete by 9.30, they want to perform a c-section.

My spirits drop. Despite knowing my rights and knowing that my baby is fine and I am fine, I just feel defeated. Around this same time, I see baby’s heartrate going up. It’s consistently in the high 170s and that worries me. I’m also running a low-grade fever. I get very nervous. I spend the next hour singing Bob Marley tunes to the baby to keep her heart rate down and concentrate on lowering my fever. Bob Marley does the trick.

And my contractions get ever stronger, finally to the point that I feel an intense pain in my pubic bone. The anesthesiologist comes in and redoses me but despite that, I still feel intense pain in my pubic bone and every single contraction. I feel pain and sensation everywhere but my left leg and my yoni.

I yell so much about the pain that they decide to check me 15 minutes early. At 9.15, I’M COMPLETE! YAY! HELL YEAH! I feel like I beat them. I beat the horrible medical establishment bent, as far as I’m concerned, on cutting me open. My mom calls Kristin because she wants to be there during the birth and I start to push.

Within 20 minutes, Kristin is there with me. Mom holds one of my all-but-useless legs, Kristin holds the other, and Brian pushes me forward. And I bear down with every ounce of energy I can squeeze out of myself. I know I have a time limit with pushing. I have to push hard. I have to push her out. And I have to push past this horrible pain. I’m in agony. I’d love to move. I’d love to be in a different position. I use every single emotion I’m feeling to add to my efforts.

After 45 minutes, I start to lose heart. The pain washes over me and I just can’t take it anymore. I yell to stop. I want to stop. Mom and Brian tell me how good I’m doing, that I can keep going. I’m so tired and I don’t feel as strong as they tell me I am. The doctor offers to use the vacuum and that keeps me going for a few minutes because I just don’t want my baby going through that. But soon, I’m yelling to stop again. But this time, mom and the doctor tell me to feel. To feel my baby’s head. I reach down and feel something hard. Somewhere within myself, I get this second wind. I start to push for all I’m worth, with contractions, between contractions, harder than I had been in the beginning of this stage when I had more energy.

But soon I start to feel sick to my stomach. They hand Brian this tiny pan to catch my vomit as I turn my head and get sick. I throw up all over his shirt. And then I push again, and then I get sick again. And this time, while I’m getting sick, you can hear this rush of excitement in the people staring at my crotch. While Brian’s busy tending to my top-half and I’m busy being ill, my child has exploded from my opening, flipped over the doctor’s hand, and landed sitting and staring at her. What a dramatic entrance. She breathes immediately, dismissing the need for the pediatricians sent to make sure she’s not got meconium in her lungs. They place her on my stomach and suction her. She looks at me with tiny slitted eyes and cries. My heart immediately melts. I’m no longer tired. I’m in awe. This perfect little girl, beautiful little girl, is from my body.

Brian cuts her cord, my mother having stopped the doctor from performing this task for him. He then follows her to the incubator where they perform those little tests and measurements on her. She’s 7 pounds and 3 ounces. 19 inches. She’s crying and I just want to hold her. But they’re sewing up the huge gash in my yoni created when she shot out. Brian’s holding her and crying, obviously in awe of his daughter. My mom’s running around, taking pictures like a crazy woman, talking to the baby, and shedding silent gramma-tears.

Soon, but not soon enough in my tastes, my daughter is handing back to me and I’m allowed to sit up. I’m tearing off my gown, anxious to feed her, to start that relationship. She latches with ease and looks straight at me. I look at her and smile and then look at Brian. I’m excited. I’ve done it. She’s here! She’s perfect! And I’m not cut!

The night passes into day and I’m still awake, nursing and staring at my daughter. Amazed by her alertness and beauty and pleased with myself. I’m a momma, a stubborn momma. A supported momma. A loved momma. A happy momma.

 

Awww that was excellent

I have goose bumbs lol

**hugs to you all**

 

A powerful mama. A fierce mama. A strong mama. A smart mama. An AMAZING mama.

 

i never noticed this thread before...


Warning!! the cesarean birth of my first daughter is not a pretty story. It left me with PTSD, which I will probably have for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, it is not a very unique story when it comes to the hospital birth experience. I will post my vbac story in a different reply.




My water unexpectedly broke at 37 weeks . I was having no contractions or any other signs of labor (though I had been having lots of false labor the prior two months).
Called my doc, he wasn't on call, so paged his fill-in.
Doc called me back like an hour later, after I had paged him three more times. Said to get to hospital ASAP. I was haing contractions about 6 minutes apart in the car, but they stopped when we got to the hospital. Lots more water comes out...only dilated 2cm or so. Lose mucous around the time doc finally shows up what seemed like ages later, but not blood-tinged, just clear and goopy.
(Here I must add that have an intense distrust and even hatred of doctors and hospitals, and having to deal with a doc I had never met before really made me quite uneasy.)

Had I don't know how many more internal exams and two ultrasounds. Put in bed flat on my back, hooked up to monitors. (Gee, wonder why labor didn't progress) Couldn't even unplug the stupid monitor to go pee without nurses rushing in to check on me! Baby was moving and had great heartrate all night long. We were both just fine, except for the fact I was in a hospital and my water had broken. Some 12 hours later, doc starts talking about risk of infection since my water had already broken, yadda yadda yadda, says he wants to try to "ripen my cervix" and gives me what he simply told me was "an ulcer medicine like reglan." (I later read in my records that it was at this point that he artificially ruptured my membranes. Yeah, but wasn't the risk of infection only because of all the vaginal exams I'd had? Turns out it was Cytotec he gave me, and I was never told about any of the risks of taking it or that it is not approved for inducing labor.) Even lets me eat a big breakfast, because by that point I was starving to death, and he thinks it will be about 8 more hours before baby is born.

Okay, baby's heartrate starts decelerating (which is a known side effect from the Cytotec doc had given me). First couple times were scary, but it went right back up. They decide to do internal monitors, since my contractions weren't showing up on the external monitor. The internal monitors hurt like HELL, I was only dilated 3cm (records state 2cm) at that point, and they didn't show anything the external ones weren't showing. My contractions were upside down on the graph, so they removed the internal monitors (OUCH) and re-inserted them into my cervix which was only dilated to two or three centimeters (DOUBLE OUCH) - it made no difference in the readings, by the way. (hmmm...maybe I should have requested a different monitor? That one had been on continuously for like 14 hours.) At this point, I gave in and let them catheterize me. No more trips to the bathroom to escape the dreaded bed and monitors. Then, baby's heartrate starts dropping, and keeps dropping no matter what I do or what the nurses do. One gets on the intercom and yells "any available doctor to labor room four, STAT!" We had some six nurses and two doctors in there rushing around, not telling us what was going on. All I knew was they turned the volume on the monitor way up so everyone could hear it, and those beeps kept getting farther and farther apart. DD's heartrate went from 160 down to 10 beats per minute. Doc said he suspected prolapsed cord and that we need emergency c-section or my baby will die, or at the very least have very low apgar scores and need to be in NICU, where I wouldn't be allowed to stay with her.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm being rolled into OR, given a shot of morphine directly into my spine, and cut open. J was born with PERFECT apgar scores! As I am leaving the OR, I hear doc say to nurse, "you know, contrary to popular belief, I do *sometimes* have vaginal births." I was paralyzed from my armpits down and kept in recovery for three hours before being moved into a room. It was at least one more hour after that before I ever got to see or hold my baby girl.

The entire four days I stayed at the hospital, nurses kept bullying me trying to get me to leave her in the nursery, telling me not to let her sleep in my bed with me, pushing me into a feeding schedule, etc etc etc Not to mention barging in no less often than every two hours, day and night.

Ok, nearly three years after the fact I get a copy of my records. In them I read nothing about what I was told about a fear of prolapsed cord. I read that somehow I had given my informed consent to a number of procedures and medications of which I was neither informed nor to which I gave my consent. I recall now that the day I was discharged, nurse Ratchet comes in with a stack of papers to sign, many of them "informed consent forms" three days after the fact! I was reading out loud, and mentioned that I had never been informed about spinal anasthesia, that they told me a little about epidural, but not spinal. Well, evil nurse tells me to just sign it anyway, that they are the same. She tells me that if I want to go home, and if I want baby to go home with me that I'll sign those papers, and even tells me to leave the date blank... at that point I had no fight left in me, so I did what she said.

 

The Story of My Amazing VBAC at The Farm!!!



Tuesday, November 18, 2003

5:30am eastern time - I lost my mucous plug. There was no blood in it, just a fist sized glob of clear goop. Mild, irregular, braxton-hicks type rushes were coming about every 15 minutes or so, same as I had been having off and on for the past few weeks. Cool! Something was starting to happen, but didn’t seem like it would happen any time real soon. When I saw Paul getting ready for work that morning, I started to panic. That’s when I decided that it was time to finish packing the car and head out to the birthing cabin at The Farm.

We took our time getting ready and leaving. I called Deborah to let her know we were coming and then cancelled my chiropractic adjustment. The drive was fun. Everything seemed a little more real than usual, and now my memories of that day seem extremely clear and crisp. I enjoyed eating lunch with Paul and J and remember thinking that this might be the last time we sit down to eat just the three of us for who knows how long? I savored being pregnant and took full advantage of the special way people were treating me because I knew that I probably won’t ever be big and pregnant again. Paul asked me what music I wanted to listen to as the baby is being born, and I tell him that I’d like it to be the Bela Fleck cd that we brought with us. We stopped at a grocery store in the nearest town on the way to The Farm, and arrived at the cabin around 1pm, Central time.

Deborah was already there, cleaning like a madwoman. She checked my cervix, and I was just a fingertip dilated and my cervix was soft, like it had been at my last prenatal.

It was then that I started seeing blood in the mucous that had been coming out in small, clear globs all moring long.

The plan was to get me settled in, and Paul would return home to get as many days of work in as possible, then I would call him when it was time for the baby to come. After Deborah left, I kept trying to get him to stay just a little longer, and a little longer, and finally broke down crying and begged him not to go home. I had a very strong feeling that if he left, I would just call him as soon as he got home and he’d have to turn right around and come back.

Deborah showed back up as I was calming down and drying my eyes, and we told her that Paul was going to stay there instead of going back home.

7:00 pm - I nursed J to sleep a little earlier than usual that night. Before falling asleep, she looked at me and told me that the milkies had come back. For the first time in my entire pregnancy, nursing really intensified the rushes I was having. It was impossible to ignore them, but they weren’t coming with any regularity, and no two rushes felt the same.

I did manage to get a little sleep, off and on, but it was a rough night for me. Even though Paul was asleep with J up in the loft the whole night, I sure was glad he was there.

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

5:00am - I started feeling an intense urge to poop. As I sat on toilet through several belly squeezes, a huge amount of bloody show came out.

My lower back was killing me. Maybe I really should have tried to see my chiropractor before heading out. As I was trying to climb back into bed while holding my rice pillow, I decided to hold it in place with a baby sling around my waist. It worked beautifully.

I had irregular rushes all morning. Some of them were very intense, some were nothing I couldn’t ignore. I was getting really tired of this and wished things would start happening soon. At this rate, I felt like it would be at least another day or so before baby was born.

3:30pm - I started to get a bit grouchy and touchy. I was very tired of hearing Paul and Deborah call it "putsy-putsy" like Dr. Bradley in that video we watched in our Bradley classes. Rushes were now 10 minutes apart, give or take. Each one still felt different than the one before it. Deborah said my cervix was "paper thin" and 1cm dilated. She applied borage oil to my cervix and baby-sat J while my husband and I had some alone time in an attempt to speed things up a bit. This did indeed seem to make things a little more intense. Paul went to get J and brought back some homeopathic blue cohosh to go with the black cohosh Carol had given me at my last prenatal visit. I was leery of trying it previously, but at this point I was ready to try anything to speed things up.

5:00pm - I took half of the recommended dose of the homeopathic cohoshes, to see how my body would react to it.

6:12pm - My water sprang a small leak, and I made a few phone calls to clue everyone in as to what was going on.

6:45pm - Rushes started back up, at about 6 minutes apart. Still not consistent or regular, though. I was really grouchy at this point and just wanted to be left alone.

7:00pm - I took another half-dose of the blue and black cohoshes.

8:00pm - Rushes started being more consistently 5 to 6 minutes apart, were lasting about a minute, and getting very intense. I asked Paul to call Deborah for me. I was afraid it might be too early, but I just couldn’t handle this without her help at that point.

9:00pm - Deborah arrived and checked my progress. My cervix was dilated 4 cm and baby was at zero station. Paul and Deborah said something about the rushes being five minutes apart, but they still didn’t feel regular to me. Each one was totally different.

Sometime around this point, my Grateful Dead cd ended (what would be better to listen to during early stages of labor at the hippie farm, anyway?). Paul asked J what kind of music she wanted to listen to, and she said, "banjo music!" So he put on Bela Fleck and The Flecktones "Live Art" (disc two, at my request).

10:00pm - I started wanting to push. I felt like I needed to poop and just couldn’t, so I requested an enema. That didn’t help at all. Deborah checked me and said that I was 6cm and had a swollen anterior cervical lip. I was fighting the urge to push, but it was becoming more difficult.

J started getting really upset. It was past her bedtime and Mommy was making funny sounds. While I was in the shower, Paul laid down with Jenny in the bed in the loft. It was the first time ever that she skipped nursing for an entire day, but Paul did somehow manage to get her to fall asleep. Once J quit crying, Deborah seemed much more relaxed and in turn I calmed down as well.

10:15pm - Sharon made her grand entrance. She walked in with the door handle still in her hand! Paul later told me that when she arrived, he felt the cabin fill with a sense of calm and that she emanated a feeling of experience that made him think for the first time that everything was going to be alright, that things were actually going to happen the way I had planned, that all my preparations were going to pay off in a big way.

Deborah applied arnica oil to my swollen cervical lip, which totally hurt. According to her notes, I was now 8cm dilated and baby was at +1 station. I was fighting the urge to push with all I had in me, and was losing the fight. It was as though my body had taken over, and I was trapped inside my head. At that point, I didn’t want anyone to talk or touch me. It felt like they were intruding on this weird meditative state I was in. And I was less than polite in asking for quiet.

The rest is a blur. I changed positions quite a few times, but semi-seated actually worked best. That was not what I had expected. I had always pictured myself pushing on my hands and knees, but that position didn’t work at all for me. Sitting on the ball was definitely the most effective, but when I felt baby’s head move down past my cervix I got back on the bed. Mostly I stayed propped up by pillows, hanging from Paul’s arm as if he were a tree. Pushing created the most intense pain I’ve ever felt in my life, as though a freight-train were ripping through my pelvis, but I was long past being able to fight it anymore and pushed with the urges with all my might. Somebody (maybe Sharon) said something about how pushing feels good, and I replied that it was the pushing that hurt so much. I thought to myself that if I ever heard another woman talk about orgasmic childbirth, I would just have to kick her in the teeth.

I told Deborah, "It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much and it hasn’t even started hurting yet!" I really thought the pain would just keep getting worse and worse until baby came out. But in reality, once her head was past my cervix, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad and I wasn’t quite as afraid of pushing.

I yelled, "shut up!" to Paul on several occasions. I had to make a conscious effort to keep my mouth and jaw muscles relaxed like Ina May says to do in her books. At one point instead of clenching my jaw, I actually tried to bite Paul’s hand, and he quickly pulled it out of my reach.

Sharon brought me warm compresses for my perineum, but I asked her for cold ones instead. She looked at Deborah, who shrugged and said, "if that’s what she wants..." Later, Sharon told me that was the first time she’s ever had a laboring woman ask for *cold* compresses.

Sharon told me to put my hand down there and feel the baby’s head. That’s when I knew it would be over soon. Before that, I really thought I had a couple more hours to go. I put both hands on baby’s head and held back my labia as baby’s head slowly came out. I was amazed at how soft her head felt and how I could feel it changing shape as I squeezed it out of me. As soon as her head came all the way out I knew I was supposed to stop pushing but the rest of her body came out all at once very quickly in a huge gush of amniotic fluid. It felt as if someone had grabbed her and yanked her out of me, but since my hands were on her head I knew that wasn’t what happened. After the baby came out, like magic the pain was completely gone.

M was born at 11:00 pm, Wednesday, November 19, just one hour shy of her due date. She was born mildly tongue-tied, but unlike her big sister she latched right on to my breast with a good, strong suck. I wasn’t feeling very hungry, but at Deborah’s and Sharon’s insistence, I agreed to eat a can of soup.

I delivered the placenta about fifteen minutes after the baby was born. I told them I had been considering eating it. Sharon cut off a chunk of it and gave it to me. It was a little large to swallow whole so I chewed it up and was quite suprised that it wasn’t unpleasant at all.

I did have a very minor tear, which Deborah stitched up for me. I was suprised that she had to since I felt absolutely no pain at all down there. When I asked her what would be the difference if she didn’t stitch it up, she told me that it would just take a little longer to heal.

J woke up a few hours later, after Deborah and Sharon had left. Paul carried her down the stairs to meet her new baby sister.

 

What an amazing difference in your 2 stories! Really shows the difference in the 2 models of care.

 

thanks for sharing your stories guys!


I enjoyed reading about your experiences and love that everyones is such an individual but shared thing because you have chosen to share it with us!

 

mamaboogie, that's horrible, that nurse having you sign the forms and leave the date blank, it's just . . . . . criminal!!! grrrr!

your farm birth story. BEAUTIFUL!!!

I've read your story somewhere before. did you post it at MotheringDotCommune? i know i've seen it somewhere!

kathy

 

hippyfreek - loved your story too. very emotional and sweet!!

kathy

 

Want to hear a good one? settle in for this one...lol. I was due on July 17, 2005. Well, on June 12, 2005 I was going to go to the grocery store with my sis, when I THOUGHT i peed on myself. So I went to change clothes, and I did it again. Changed clothes again. Did it again. Finally told mysis about it, and she freaked out. My water had broken nearly six weeks early. Well, we were about 2 hours away from the nearest hospital, but I didn't panic. I was still thinking I was only having a bladder problem. I didn't feel the first pain on the way to the hospital.

When I got to the doc's, I was only 3 inches dilated. They went ahead and gave me an epidural, and I never felt the first inkling of pain, even during recovery.

 

HippyFreek - my mom sang Beatles songs while she laboured with me to get me to calm down. The power of music is amazing isn't it?

 

I wrote leane's birth story out in October, but it's gone now, and I didn't realize this thread was here. Now I kinda want to add it

Hopefully i can remember it all off the top of my head without having to go get the journal I wrote it in.
It's really long
Well, I was supposed to be due on the 15th of September, but about 2 weeks before that, my OB says that after looking at the old ultasound I had from 7 weeks, that my due date was more around the 20th. I was already huge and in pain, and by this point, i just wanted her to come OUT!
I waddled home to tell my mom and omi the news and I was soooo depressed. 5 more days felt like another 5 months!
I had another appointment on my new due date, Tuesday the 20th, and I was 1 cm, but leane was still sitting fairly high, so he said that we were most likely looking at an induction. He said that if I hadn't made any progress by next Tuesday the 27th, which was my next appointment, that we would do the induction on the 28th. If I HAD made some progress, but still looking bleak, that he would hold off until the 29th.
So, I spent the next few days just taking it easy, cleaning and eating and enjoying the little bit of time I had free until she was here.
On the night of Sunday the 26th, I started to feel a little gross and sick with a soar throat. I didn't really think much of it and was a little ticked off that was getting sick NOW. The Monday, I still felt ok, a little bit of a cold, but that was about it.
On Tuesday morning, I woke up at 6 am feeling like I had the worst case of diarhea. I layed in bed for a little while longer...I thought it was just a bug and I was comfortable, so I stayed there. Then a couple minutes later, I flet it again.
Howver, all my life, I have been getting horrible stomach aches with bouts of the poops at least once a week, so that's what I figured was happening.
I finally got up to go to the bathroom at 6:30 and tried desperately to take a poop, but after sitting there for a half hour, nothing.
So i decided to go back to bed. When I stood up to wipe, there was a pinkish discharge on the toilet paper. I knew that meant that the beginning of labour was here. I also had a ton of mucous, which I knew was the plug.
I barely pulled up my pants and ran back to the bedroom, stopped at the doorway and yelled to Cody, "I THINK SOMETHING IS FINALLY HAPPENING!!!" He looked at me in this groggy state and said, "what? really?"
I told him what had happened, then just as quickly, I dashed upstairs to tell my omi and my mom. They were all excited and hugged me, lol
I told them how I had woken up with the poopy feeling, the discharge and everything and they were saying, "yup, you're in labour."
I grabbed all my pregnancy books, even though I had them memorized front to back and still was reading them like it was the first time.
So, i ate some breakfast and just kinda layed around for a while. Cody was supposed to go to work, he really didn't want to, but I told him to go and that this could go on for a while. I had my appointment a 2 pm, and he had to come home then to drive me there anyway. So, he reluctantly drove off to work, and so did my mom. My omi hung around at home with me while I started to get a little nest-crazy.
Cody came home at about noon, saying that his boss just told him to go home, lol.
I had never even gotten the crib sheets washed, sanitized the change table and stuff, basically, I was in the state of mind, "this is never going to happen, so what's the point?" But when I started to have contractions, I was getting all the cleaners out, vaccuming, just generally going a little nuts.
All day so far, the contractions had been a little irregular. I would get a really big, painful one, and then about 15 minutes later, another painful one, then they would start to get closer and closer together to the point of being 5 minutes appart, but not as painful. It was frustrating, but i figured that my body knew what it was doing.
We left for my doctors appointment at about 1 pm, and I was anxious to hear what he had to say.
The one nurse who seemed to always be at the office took one look at me when I walked in and said, "you're kidding, you're STILL pregnant!?" I happily told her that I had been having contractions since 6 that morning, and she looked hopefull for me.
We also found out that there had been another one of Dr. Gleason's patients who had gone into labour and was having her baby, so he had to leave and we had to wait.
Cody and I walked around the mall that the clinic was in, went to Zellers to get me some Ritz crackers, which I scarffed down, and just continuted to walk and walk. We could hear the other people around us saying, "yup, that girl is having that baby real soon." The contractions had started to feel WAY stronger and much more regular by this point.
When we finally got in, he examined me and said, "well, you're 2 cm, but that's about it. We will probably still have to carry on with the induction on Thursday, because this can go on for 3 days or a week." I felt a little discouraged, but this time i knew he was wrong. This baby was going to be here before Thursday.
I still signed the hospital forms to consent to the induction, but I told him that I knew it was pointless.
We went home, had a nice big supper and Cody followed me around timing my contractions. We layed in our bedroom, attempting to get some sleep, but it never happened. The contractions had slowed down again and were doing the same thing they were earlier, getting closer, but not as strong.
I attempted to sew a little bit to get my mind off things, which didn't help all that much.
I visited some more with my omi and opi and my mom. At about 10 pm, I was starting to crave a chocolate milkshake. Everyone else was getting hungry for a snack, too, so we enlisted Cody to go to Jack's Drive Inn to get some milkshakes and hamburgers.
While he was gone, I decided to phone the case room at the hospital, because the contractions were still being weird. The nurse told me that my body was trying to get into labour, but couldn't quite do it just yet. She said to hold off on coming until they were 5 minutes apart and so bad that I couldn't walk or talk.
Ok, so I sat there.
My omi and opi went to bed, asking us to wake them up if anything was happening. My mom, Cody and I all went to go and sit in the livingroom, while I rocked back and forth in the glider rocker and Cody timed my contractions.
After sitting there from 10 pm until 11:30, telling nostalgic stories about when my mom went into labour with me and my sister, my mom and I convinced Cody to go to bed and get some sleep. I told him that I was going to need his help later and even if he got 3 hours of sleep, it would be better than nothing.
I went to bed with my mom so that we wouldn't wake Cody up, but we didn't stay in there for long. My mom said that she heard me pass out for maybe a whole 5 minutes, I snored, then woke up in the middle of another contraction.
By this point, they had gotten stronger and closer.
I was also having to take a poop after every one.
I got out of bed to go to the bathroom, and started to have one at the beginning of the poop, and one after. Then another on my way back out of the bathroom. By this point, I was having to squat on the floor because i couldn't stand. I was also whining a lot.
My mom went down to get Cody out of bed, who had gotten maybe a 1/2 hour of sleep. She also called the case room back and told them what was happening. The nurse apparently sounded questionable, but when she hear me scream in the back ground, she said to bring me in.
My omi got out of bed to give me a hug, we grabbed our suitcases and my mom and cody helped me out to the car.
Cody maxed out the spedometer on the car, dispite me telling him that we weren't in that big of a rush and he just ignored me...thankfully, the roads were dead since it was 12:45 am. My mom sat in the back of the car with her arm over my shoulder rubbing my belly every time i had a contraction.
When we got to the hospital, they got me all set up in my room, my mom went to sleep in the recliner and cody was getting me water and helping me out of bed every 10 minutes to go to the bathroom.
After being hooked up to monitors for 2 hours, I got into the shower and sat in there, rubbing the shower head on my back during the begining of the contractions and on my belly at the end, for 3 hours. When I was told that i was flooding the floor and the water was dripping down through the roof of the floor below us, I got out.
I went back to bed, and the nurse offered some morphine to help me sleep.
WORST thing I ever did! It made me MORE tired but I still couldn't sleep because of the contractions.
My mother in law and her boyfriend at the time had gotten there by this point, which was about 6am.
At 7, they brought me in some breakfast and said to eat what i could. When I finally sat up, I felt a lot better. The nurses had told me that lying on my side would help, but it hadn't, and sitting up, I was able to handle the contractions way better.
When they checked me at 7 am, I was 3 cm. I was a little disapointed to hear that, but I focoused on visiting with everyone there. I told all the people in my room to just ignore the contractions and keep talking. Watching me when they were happening was only making them hurt more.
I got comfortable sitting up with the bed in the full "sitting" position, holding on to the bars on the sides, my legs crossed "pow-wow" like and i would lift myself up every time a contraction came. I did this until 1 pm, when Dr. Gleason got there. He also was pissed right off that they had given me breakfast because he was so adimate that I would need a c-section.
That was also the time that he ordered some pitocin without my consent, and when the nurse had hooked it up to my IV, I asked what it was. She told me that they needed my bed and I was going too slow. I wasn't going to fight with her at this point and after they increased the amount to 72 cc/hour, I was in pain. I know i could have gotten through the contractions if it weren't for that stupid stuff! So, I gave in and asked for an epidural. The anestesiologist (sp?) got to my room in about 45 minutes and gave me some relief. I actually enjoyed the needle, since i was having a contraction while he was putting it in.
My dad, grandma and grandpa, omi and opi all showed up by now.
I decided to lay there and sleep until about 3:15 when they came in to check me, and I was 9 cm.
By this point, I got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach...sometime along the lines of, "OH DEAR GOD, I'M HAVING A BABY!!!!!!!!!"
The nurse and the resident doctor who had been practicing along with Dr. Gleason were in my room and told me that i could start to push if I liked whenever I had a contraction. The epidural was wearing off, so now I could feel everything that was going on.
I was also begging for some ice chips or water by this point because of the flu I had come down with 2 days before. i wasn't allowed and felt awful.
They helped my hold my legs up while they were talking and I pushed. Cody counted for me. I did this for an hour, and when Dr. Gleason got there at about 4:30, he said that I wasn't making eneough progress. turns out that the way the nurse told me to push was wrong. I would push for 10 seconds, then relax and then push, then realx, then push. Dr. Gleason told me to push, take a really quick breath, push, another really quick breath and push again. He stood there coaching me like a personal trainer or something and a half hour, at 5:05 on Wednesday the 28th, my life changed.
Her shoulders were the worst part. I had gone the whole time with no yelling but that that point, I yelled out, "geez this HURTS!!!"
I remember looking at Cody's face and seeing a look I have never seen before or since...it was pure amazement. He was crying, laughing, excited and scared all at the same time.
when she was finally out, I looked down at her and my first words were, "IS THAT A GIRL?" Cody looked at her and said, "no, that's a boy." I grabbed him and said, "no, Cody, that's a girl."
They weighed her (9 lbs 3 oz), measued her (21 3/4 inches) and did her apgar testes (9/10).
i asked Cody what he thought about the name Leane, and he just kinda waved it off since he was so twiter[ated with his new little girl.
They never put her on my chest, I wasn't able to hold her for 1/2 hour, which felt like forever, especially since I was yelling to them, "I want to hold her!" But Cody was able to instead while they stitched up my huge episiotimy.
My breasts were leaking all over the place, my gown was soaked and I was attempting to get her to breastfeed.
Dr. Gleason walked over to me and shook my hand saying, "wow, I honestly didn't think you could do that."
They wheeled us over to our postpartum room, the only one in the hospital where Cody could stay. That room now reminds me of a prison, as I was so depressed after her birth. I was amazed by her, but so tired I couldn't even hold her. When I tried to shower, I fainted and was ordered to sleep. Cody had to walk around with her, and ended up giving her a bottle of formula. She finally slept from 3-6 while the nurses watched her so Cody could sleep.
The next day, we had an awsome nurse in our room with us, trying to help us breastfeed all day, where Leane cried and attempeted to eat for 8 hours straight, not sleeping once. She was so hot and sweaty, I knew something was wrong. But when she finally seemed latched on right, and fed for 3 more hours, we started to talk about going home. The pediatrition who was working at the time gave us the ok to go home, and our nurse did some tests to see if she was alright to go. That's when we discovered her fever and that her diaper was bright yellow. She was sick and dehydrated. We figured that it was from me having the flu, but it also completely paraniod me about the breastfeeding. And so started our month and a half long fight with it.
She had to stay in the NICU for 4 days when we were finally able to bring her home. We never got the breastfeeding to work, but she's a healthy little girl now!

 

My time line is a little off, because I can’t remember the times much.

On Tuesday, August 30, I had a friend who is an L&D nurse come and check my cervix. I had been having contractions that I thought could be ‘it’ for a few days and at my last midwife appointment I was dilated to 3 cm and didn’t want to have the baby before the midwife could get here. We just knew that when I went into labor with ds3 it would be quick. Anyway, I was still dilated to a 3 and still at –2 station and 50% effaced. No change at all. At about 2 or 2:30 I started to have some mild contractions that were about 10-15 minutes apart. I wasn’t sure if this was it or not, still convinced it wasn’t. I called my midwife and let her know what was going on. She asked if she should come on over and I said no, not yet. Then I called my sister in law; she was going to video and take pictures for me, to let her know that this might be it. I called the midwife every hour to let her know what was going on. My contractions were still 10-15 minutes apart and occasionally would come every 2-3 minutes for about 10 minutes then go back to 10-15 minutes. At about 9pm the midwife said she was coming over just in case. So I called s-i-l and she got her stuff together and came over also.

The midwife and s-i-l got here at about 10pm and we got settled in. the midwife wanted me to walk because my contractions were 10-15 minutes but only lasting about 20-30 seconds. s-i-l and I walked around my neighborhood, almost a mile, and came back in. We were all talking and laughing with me occasionally having to pause for a contraction. Finally I asked the mw to check me at about 12:00am and she said it was time to get the pool filled because I was dilated to 7cm. I was thinking ‘HELL YES! I can do this, the pain is not bad and I bet the baby will be here in about 2 hours’. So Dh gets the pool out and starts to fill it up. Once it is filled I didn’t really want to get in. I wasn’t feeling a whole lot of pain with the contractions yet. the mw called the assistant midwife to come help. She got here about an hour later and scared Dh. She just walked in, because who else would be coming at 2 in the morning? LOL. Anyway, she got here and looked about 12 years old. I wasn’t too sure at first, but I ended up really liking her. She did a great job. By this time I think I am in the pool and contractions about every 5 minutes getting stronger just and still only lasting about 30 seconds. I am in and out of the pool constantly. At this point we went for another walk, it was around 2:30, Dh went with us that time. We all napped from about 3 to 4:30 a.m. I lay down on the couch in my bedroom and Dh and s-i-l took the bed (I know, I was just more comfy on the couch) and the midwives took the living room couches. I was able to talk my contractions down long enough to fall asleep and they stayed fairly mild during my nap. I finally woke up and got back in the pool. I think the mw checked me again sometime around 9 or 10 and I am still only 7 cm and now at –3 station (baby was at –2) and still only 50% effaced. Talk about a major let down. The midwives decided that I wasn’t progressing because my contractions weren’t working hard enough. They had me squat and were giving me some herbal stuff to bump up the intensity of the contractions. It is about 8 in the morning and Dh is getting ds1 up and ready for school and ds2 dressed to go to s-i-l house. They let the boys into see me and as I am hugging ds2 I get a contraction. I have a picture of me holding him and trying to relax.

Now the boys are at school and my body is getting down to business. The contractions HURT HURT HURT and they are starting to get longer and come every 2-3 minutes. I am in and out of the pool, to pee or to walk around. Every time I would have a contraction someone would give me some water and then I would have to pee. By this time the water is making me gag. It tasted like nasty lake water. No one else had a problem with it just me so I am sure it was just because my body was in labor. I had made some red raspberry leaf tea ice cubes for me also, so I was eating those also. Sometime around here I lost my mucous plug also and it was incredibly nasty feeling. (the mw wanted to see it but I flushed and wouldn't let her...twice, lol.) It was during one of my every 5 minutes pee sessions. Half the time I don’t know what I want, just for the pain to stop. By this time every time I get on the toilet I have a contraction and I have to pee every 3 minutes so I am trying not to sit on the toilet when I pee. Thinking that I won’t contract if I don’t sit. After one jaunt to the toilet my water breaks, at least that’s what I thought. Nope, I just didn’t finish peeing I guess. (the mw checked me not long after I thought my water broke after peeing and she said she thought i had because she didn't feel the sac anymore.) I am walking around the house and someone goes to get Burger King for lunch and the smell is making me nauseous. So I go and shut myself in the bedroom. the mw wants me to walk and lean over when I have a contraction to help the baby get into position. Finally around 1pm she checks me again and I am STILL only 7 cm and 50% and –3. So she breaks my water and there is about 15 seconds of utter peace for me. No pressure, no pain. Then the doozy comes. I had the most painful contraction. I thought it was gong to rip me apart. I also got sick soon after she broke my water. I stayed in the pool for about 30 more minutes and then get up to go to the bathroom again. As I am walking out I have to lean on the door jam and look the mw and say I am through. I couldn’t take anymore of it. the mw says to lay on the bed so she can check me because she didn’t want us to have the baby in the car. (I remember asking her if she had anything...anything at all...she could give me for pain because I couldn't take it anymore..."are you sure you don't have an epidural in your bag?" I begged...she told me it was almost over, no she didn't have anything but if I left the house now I would just have the baby in the car) She was also going to put some arnica on my cervix to see if she could help me push it open. (The arnica was to try to help get rid of the lip of my cervix she'd felt when she broke my bag...I had wanted to push earlier but she said no, don't push...if your body pushes that's ok, but try not to because that lip is still there) She could see the baby's head! So I start to push with all I have. I reached around and grabbed Dh's head and both midwives kept saying to let go of his head because they needed him to help get my legs up and open. I pushed for about maybe a minute and he was out. Pushing felt good. I don’t remember it hurting, but looking at the video I think it did LOL. (Midwives were amazed at the amount of amniotic fluid that came out with him...the mw got doused and was drenched from the waist down.) I didn’t want to touch the baby once he was out. They kept telling me to hold my baby, but I was just exhausted. When I finally grabbed him I started to cry. I didn’t think I wanted to cut the cord until it stopped pulsating, but I asked to do it because it was really uncomfortable. I asked Dh if he wanted to cut it, but he said no so I got to cut it. I tried to get him to nurse, but he pursed his lips and refused to open his mouth.

the mw took him to do his Apgar and noticed his breathing was labored. (She called it retracting...told me later it meant using auxiliary muscles to breathe...and also noted flaring...nostril flaring as a sign he wasn't getting enough air.) She also started to think that he wasn’t 37 weeks because he was covered in vernix, he didn’t have any creases in his feet, one of his testicles hadn’t descended and he was so tiny. (Also he didn't have any nipples and his ears didn't flap back immediately when pulled away from his head) They put him on oxygen and covered him with a heating pad to keep him warm and gave him to me while they called a few other midwives to see if they could come over. (This is where a flat tire came in. One of them had one and couldn't come over.) They soon decided that an emergency transport was inevitable. Dh had no idea what was going on. He left for the cleanup stuff and was in the living room. When s-i-l walked out and told him that we had to take the baby to the ER he started to get frantic. He got the carseat out of the attic and installed it in the car. (and was so beside himself that he accidentally stole all my sister in laws money, lol) ds3 was born at 1:58 pm and was in the car en route to the ER by 3:00pm. Dh, s-i-l and the mw took ds3 and the assistant mw stayed home to help me.

When they got to the ER the nurses came right out to them and took him back to his room where he was surrounded by many capable and friendly nurses and doctors...they were all quite interested because they don't often get cases like his...newborns are usually already upstairs if something goes wrong. They at first thought my sister in law was the mother, something she had to correct several times. He was hooked up to monitors and everything seemed fine to them at first...the doctor seemed confused at first as to why he had been brought in. the mw had him stabilized on oxygen so there didn't appear to be anything wrong. Once they got the picture they continued to assess him and took all of his info from dh and s-i-l, then they took him upstairs to the Level II nursery. They were taken to a nesting room (a room for new moms to pump for their babies that are in the nursery) and after he was settled in they came and got dh to go in with him. Before he went in a nurse asked him to sign consent for treatment form and he got all worried and wanted to know what he was signing before he would sign it, but the mw and s-i-l assured him it was okay.

ds3 was in the NICU for 6 days. His lungs were immature and he was closer to 35 weeks than 37 weeks. He was 6 pounds when we brought him home but he gained weight steadily and looking at him now you would never know he had such a rough start in the world.

 

Ahhh reading all these labour & birth stories makes me feel soo happy. I can’t wait to have kids of my own, if I got pregnant now I would be so happy but were not actively trying. A few years ago I cried so bad because my partner didn’t want to have a baby just yet & I wanted one soo bad. I think I was at that time in my life where your hormones change & you get really broody. I now know that it was good to wait, I was too selfish to have a child then & maybe some now (that will probably change as I have kids I suppose) & have time with just me & my partner. We aren’t trying now to get pregnant right now, were not like “we have to get pregnant now” but we aren’t using contraception or anything either. So if it happens then YAY we will be really happy but when my AF comes it’s just another period to me. When the time is right the little wriglers will meet the egg for sure. But I cant wait to experience pregnancy, labour & birth, yeah I know its going to hurt, I watched both my sisters labour & give birth & I could see how much pain they were in but it was just soo magical its unreal. And I’m sure when its you that giving birth its even more magical & unreal, it just so life changing.

Good luck to all you pregnant mums to be out there.

 

I was 2 or 3 three weeks away from my due date and I was driving home on my last week of work when a 90 year old man turned left in front of me at an intersection and I totalled my truck. They brought me to the hospital and told me I was having mild contractions(false labour).


So, I went home and from that point on I had contractions every 10 to 20 min. for a week, it even woke me up every 20 min. when I was sleeping at night. I was told not to go back to the hospital til they were like 5 min. apart but after not getting any sleep all weekend I went back to the hospital. They broke my water and I endured 12 hours of hard labour but I wasn't progressing so I had to have an emergency c-section and they had to stick that needle in my back while I was having contractions(that was scary).

I have to say that sitting in the shower was very soothing, do many hospitals have this option?