Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Disclaimer: This blog post is a birth story. If you dislike graphic descriptions of births or anything of that sort, please stop right here. I should also add, that this is a very personal experience, but I chose to share it with the interwebs because I just feel like it. Yeah..
I never liked the phrase "becoming a mom once again", I mean, do you ever stop being a mom after you have your first? No, I didn't think so. You'll always be a mother, it's not something you shut off and turn back on once you're pregnant again. Now, I add this bit of info in here, because as you can tell by the title, what I'm going to write is one of the most amazing experiences in my life. Nevertheless, it does not take away from the experience of becoming a mother, and that is something Luka did for me. Nobody else can ever replicate that moment in my life.
For the last month or so, I had been actively looking for a doula (google it). Without much luck, I couldn't find one that would come assist me for free. Finally, I got one all set to go, but she had to cancel at the last minute. I mean, its not like I NEEDED one, but I felt like having one would make things so much easier and pleasant for me. At the very last minute, a wonderful doula contacted me and told me she would be coming this past Saturday. I was thrilled. I woke up Ronald from his nap and told him "we have a doula!"
I went to sleep that Friday with a little discomfort. I propped myself up with the seven pillows that reside on my bed and just dozed off. I woke up a few times that night to pee and again with a little discomfort. Nothing major. Finally, at exactly 8:00 am on the dot, something woke me up. Was it pain? I'm not sure, something just dragged me out of dreamworld very abruptly. Something felt off.
At 8:30 am the pain began. I was used to it though. Once you've had a child, you learn to recognize what contractions feel like. I was having them alright, but this didn't mean much to me. I could have them for a while and it still wouldn't mean much. I knew that they were helping progress things along, but I also knew that it could be days or even weeks before I gave birth. I started timing them nonetheless.
The doula was set to come at 11 am. She texted me letting me know she would come at 1 pm. No biggie, I texted her back and let her know that I was having pains and I was timing them. Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.
Every so often I would go use the bathroom. Any pregnant woman will tell you that obsessing over discharge is pretty common. You just HAVE to look. It's what we do. Things looked different. A good kind of different. I kept telling myself "this doesn't mean anything." It was good, I was happy that my body was getting ready but I didn't want to get my hopes up. I just didn't want to set myself for disappointment.
I kept timing my contractions throughout the day. Some were 6 minutes apart, then they would go to 10 minutes, then again down to 5-6 minutes. They weren't steady enough to be of concern yet, but I did notice that they weren't going away either. Hmmm...
The doula got home and we instantly got to work. She started showing the techniques we would try once I was finally in labor. We were practicing them so that I could get familiar with them and also to pick which ones felt the most comfortable for me. We did this for a while. All throughout it though, whenever I would get a contraction, she was there telling me to breathe and also helping me cope with the pain. It was amazing. I was in a lot of pain, but she helped me get through them.
Ronald went to get us Pizza for dinner, we ate, then we went for a walk. The contractions weren't stopping, but again, I refused to get my hopes up. By night time, I was really tired and she could tell. She gave me an awesome massage and let me rest.
At around 10 or 11 pm, the pain was starting to become too strong for me. I was not comfortable at all. I was having a very hard time breathing through the contractions. I kept feeling like I needed to use the bathroom, but of course, once I sat down, nothing would come out. I decided to use the shower and just let the warm water soothe my pain. It helped a bit, but not much. Finally, I told myself that this was NOT false labor. It felt like the real deal. Once I admitted that to myself, things started to get intense.
I laid in bed and informed the doula that the pain was starting to get unbearable. At some points, I actually shed a tear. I was determined though. I would NOT go to the hospital until A) My water broke or B) The pain was so bad, I actually cried. I refused to go in and then be sent home because it wasn't time yet.
At around 1 am Sunday, I finally felt them. The toe-curling, wall-scratching, manic-state of mind pain. This was it. I told the doula that I needed to go in even though she suggested I wait until 2am. Nope! I NEED TO GO IN!
We called my father in law to take me. Ronald would stay home and care for Luka until I was admitted. There was no point in waking him up just in case they sent me back home. I had a couple of contractions in the car and one more in the waiting room. People there are very in tune to laboring women it seems. I didn't have to say a word, they just knew what was going on, before long, I was being whisked away to triage.
I had a few more contractions there. I barely remember seeing faces. All I heard were voices. "How's the pain?" "How far apart?" "Do you feel like pushing?" "I will send you home, tell me the truth."
I answered the best as I could. I don't know who I was talking to but I did my best to answer.
I got hooked up to the machine and that's when things started to feel bad. Not being able to move to cope with the pain was torture. They kept telling me to hold still so they could monitor the baby. I told them that if I held still, I couldn't manage the pain. I needed to lay on my side, or sit down, or move my hips. They weren't hearing it, all they wanted me was to hold still. They even caged me in with both sides of the bed railings so I wouldn't sit down. Well guess what, I wasn't having that either. I sat up and labored as best as I could. They weren't happy, they threatened to write down on their chart that my baby was having heart problems because they couldn't see it on the monitored. I assured them that my baby was fine, call it motherly instinct, and they could very well write whatever the hell they wanted on their chart. I was NOT going to stay still. Finally, the OB came to check me. I was 6 cm dilated, 100% effaced and the baby was at station +1 (google it). Holy shit!
This was it!
I was being admitted!
OMG!
I started to text and call all the people necessary to help get my husband here ASAP.
They offered the epidural and I gladly accepted.
Now, I wasn't planning on getting it, and even when they offered, I really didn't want it.
My logic was, I should say yes now, by the time it takes the anesthesiologist to get here and get everything set up, I could change my mind.
A little while later, I was in my bed, people were setting things up and I was still not staying still for the nurses. I heard at least three of them begging/threatening me to please stay still. Yes ladies, I'm doing this on purpose. The OB finally came to their aid and talked to me. She and I agreed on a compromise. I would stay still if they let me sit up. I would also hold the monitor for them so that it wouldn't fall off while I was wriggling in pain. This didn't go well with the nurse but fuck it. It's the best they were going to get.
The anesthesiologist finally came and informed me that I could get the epidural but warned me that at this point, it might not do anything for me. Did I still want it in place? Yes, I said. I still do. The OB came to check me. I was 8cm already. It seemed silly now, I could have said no for all the good it did me, but at the time, it felt like the right choice. It still does, you'll see.
Now the tricky part came. How is this wonderful pain doctor going to stick me in the back if I couldn't sit still for two minutes? I made a deal with the nurse. You be my "center", you hold me and coach me through the pain and I promise to stay still.
I don't know how in the world I did it, but I stayed still for 15 minutes. I didn't move an inch. I just kept letting my body go through the pain and I concentrated on the task at hand. Finally, the damn thing was in my spine.
By then, Ronald had arrived, he was waiting outside. The pain was still there obviously. Epidurals don't work immediately. Something happened though, I felt a gush. I strongly believed that my water broke. The OB was called in, it wasn't my water, just blood. Bloody show! (google it)
The pain was getting worse and worse, at this point everything was set up for me. They were just waiting on me. What were they waiting for?
Suddenly I knew "I feel like pushing!"
That's what they were waiting on.
The OB and a student were called in and they started getting ready.
Finally, I felt like I exploded and I gushed out again.
My water broke! I was sure this time.
"Yes, that was your water" the OB informed me.
OMG, IT'S GO TIME!
Now this is where everything that came felt new to me.
I felt the urge to push, that's something I didn't feel with my first.
They told me that when that urge came, to hold my breath, bare down, and just push with all I had.
I could feel all of it! I felt my body tense up, I felt my husband's hand on the back of my neck supporting me. I felt strong tight feeling on my bottom when I pushed. I felt my baby's head descending.
So many feelings at once. I was amazed!
After three pushes, the amazing feeling went away.
You see, while you're pushing, your body is actually expelling a baby, but once you stop pushing, it feels like you have something stuck up your vagina. That feeling is NOT pleasant at all.
I went with it though, it was uncomfortable but I let it be and I allowed my body to rest for a few seconds before the next contraction came and I was ready to push.
Again, we went through the same motions. Me pushing, my husband supporting, the OB lubricating. It felt wonderful! Then, when the three pushes were done came the "stuck" feeling.
Ugh!!! I hated it. Each time we took that little break, I would start to panic. It wasn't just unpleasant anymore, it hurt.
I remember saying that I couldn't do it anymore. I hoped they knew that I meant I couldn't deal with the breaks. I was actually enjoying the pushing part.
By the third or fourth contraction of the pushing phase, I remember the OB saying that her head was 1/4 of the way out. "What?!" All of this pushing for just a 1/4? No way! No way I was going to push that many times to get another 1/4 of a head out, and then another, and then another. No! I started to do weird math mentally and I refused the results!
On my fifth contraction I was determined to do more than 1/4. I pushed once, pushed twice but I was ready to give up on the third push.
Something magical happened then. I don't know what my husband said, I don't know what possessed me, but something shifted. The motivation and the strength combined with the panic that was going to come if that baby didn't come soon allowed me to do unthinkable. On that last push, I gathered all the power of all the women who mean something in my life and I pushed down with them. I felt it, I felt her head come out.
OH.MY.GOODNESS.SWEET.RELIEF!
I was told to stop pushing so they could check for the cord or anything else.
Sorry lady, I was no longer in control. My body finished pushing my sweet little baby on its own.
I had nothing to do with that push. It was all instinctual.
I cannot being to describe the rush of emotions that come with birthing a child.
It's combination of relief, happiness, fear, and many other things.
I felt them all.
They put the baby on my chest and I said hi.
Perfection looked at me in the eyes.
She was perfect.
There is obviously more to this story, but if I kept writing, we would end up with a novel and aint nobody got time for dat.
I never liked the phrase "becoming a mom once again", I mean, do you ever stop being a mom after you have your first? No, I didn't think so. You'll always be a mother, it's not something you shut off and turn back on once you're pregnant again. Now, I add this bit of info in here, because as you can tell by the title, what I'm going to write is one of the most amazing experiences in my life. Nevertheless, it does not take away from the experience of becoming a mother, and that is something Luka did for me. Nobody else can ever replicate that moment in my life.
For the last month or so, I had been actively looking for a doula (google it). Without much luck, I couldn't find one that would come assist me for free. Finally, I got one all set to go, but she had to cancel at the last minute. I mean, its not like I NEEDED one, but I felt like having one would make things so much easier and pleasant for me. At the very last minute, a wonderful doula contacted me and told me she would be coming this past Saturday. I was thrilled. I woke up Ronald from his nap and told him "we have a doula!"
I went to sleep that Friday with a little discomfort. I propped myself up with the seven pillows that reside on my bed and just dozed off. I woke up a few times that night to pee and again with a little discomfort. Nothing major. Finally, at exactly 8:00 am on the dot, something woke me up. Was it pain? I'm not sure, something just dragged me out of dreamworld very abruptly. Something felt off.
At 8:30 am the pain began. I was used to it though. Once you've had a child, you learn to recognize what contractions feel like. I was having them alright, but this didn't mean much to me. I could have them for a while and it still wouldn't mean much. I knew that they were helping progress things along, but I also knew that it could be days or even weeks before I gave birth. I started timing them nonetheless.
The doula was set to come at 11 am. She texted me letting me know she would come at 1 pm. No biggie, I texted her back and let her know that I was having pains and I was timing them. Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.
Every so often I would go use the bathroom. Any pregnant woman will tell you that obsessing over discharge is pretty common. You just HAVE to look. It's what we do. Things looked different. A good kind of different. I kept telling myself "this doesn't mean anything." It was good, I was happy that my body was getting ready but I didn't want to get my hopes up. I just didn't want to set myself for disappointment.
I kept timing my contractions throughout the day. Some were 6 minutes apart, then they would go to 10 minutes, then again down to 5-6 minutes. They weren't steady enough to be of concern yet, but I did notice that they weren't going away either. Hmmm...
The doula got home and we instantly got to work. She started showing the techniques we would try once I was finally in labor. We were practicing them so that I could get familiar with them and also to pick which ones felt the most comfortable for me. We did this for a while. All throughout it though, whenever I would get a contraction, she was there telling me to breathe and also helping me cope with the pain. It was amazing. I was in a lot of pain, but she helped me get through them.
Ronald went to get us Pizza for dinner, we ate, then we went for a walk. The contractions weren't stopping, but again, I refused to get my hopes up. By night time, I was really tired and she could tell. She gave me an awesome massage and let me rest.
At around 10 or 11 pm, the pain was starting to become too strong for me. I was not comfortable at all. I was having a very hard time breathing through the contractions. I kept feeling like I needed to use the bathroom, but of course, once I sat down, nothing would come out. I decided to use the shower and just let the warm water soothe my pain. It helped a bit, but not much. Finally, I told myself that this was NOT false labor. It felt like the real deal. Once I admitted that to myself, things started to get intense.
I laid in bed and informed the doula that the pain was starting to get unbearable. At some points, I actually shed a tear. I was determined though. I would NOT go to the hospital until A) My water broke or B) The pain was so bad, I actually cried. I refused to go in and then be sent home because it wasn't time yet.
At around 1 am Sunday, I finally felt them. The toe-curling, wall-scratching, manic-state of mind pain. This was it. I told the doula that I needed to go in even though she suggested I wait until 2am. Nope! I NEED TO GO IN!
We called my father in law to take me. Ronald would stay home and care for Luka until I was admitted. There was no point in waking him up just in case they sent me back home. I had a couple of contractions in the car and one more in the waiting room. People there are very in tune to laboring women it seems. I didn't have to say a word, they just knew what was going on, before long, I was being whisked away to triage.
I had a few more contractions there. I barely remember seeing faces. All I heard were voices. "How's the pain?" "How far apart?" "Do you feel like pushing?" "I will send you home, tell me the truth."
I answered the best as I could. I don't know who I was talking to but I did my best to answer.
I got hooked up to the machine and that's when things started to feel bad. Not being able to move to cope with the pain was torture. They kept telling me to hold still so they could monitor the baby. I told them that if I held still, I couldn't manage the pain. I needed to lay on my side, or sit down, or move my hips. They weren't hearing it, all they wanted me was to hold still. They even caged me in with both sides of the bed railings so I wouldn't sit down. Well guess what, I wasn't having that either. I sat up and labored as best as I could. They weren't happy, they threatened to write down on their chart that my baby was having heart problems because they couldn't see it on the monitored. I assured them that my baby was fine, call it motherly instinct, and they could very well write whatever the hell they wanted on their chart. I was NOT going to stay still. Finally, the OB came to check me. I was 6 cm dilated, 100% effaced and the baby was at station +1 (google it). Holy shit!
This was it!
I was being admitted!
OMG!
I started to text and call all the people necessary to help get my husband here ASAP.
They offered the epidural and I gladly accepted.
Now, I wasn't planning on getting it, and even when they offered, I really didn't want it.
My logic was, I should say yes now, by the time it takes the anesthesiologist to get here and get everything set up, I could change my mind.
A little while later, I was in my bed, people were setting things up and I was still not staying still for the nurses. I heard at least three of them begging/threatening me to please stay still. Yes ladies, I'm doing this on purpose. The OB finally came to their aid and talked to me. She and I agreed on a compromise. I would stay still if they let me sit up. I would also hold the monitor for them so that it wouldn't fall off while I was wriggling in pain. This didn't go well with the nurse but fuck it. It's the best they were going to get.
The anesthesiologist finally came and informed me that I could get the epidural but warned me that at this point, it might not do anything for me. Did I still want it in place? Yes, I said. I still do. The OB came to check me. I was 8cm already. It seemed silly now, I could have said no for all the good it did me, but at the time, it felt like the right choice. It still does, you'll see.
Now the tricky part came. How is this wonderful pain doctor going to stick me in the back if I couldn't sit still for two minutes? I made a deal with the nurse. You be my "center", you hold me and coach me through the pain and I promise to stay still.
I don't know how in the world I did it, but I stayed still for 15 minutes. I didn't move an inch. I just kept letting my body go through the pain and I concentrated on the task at hand. Finally, the damn thing was in my spine.
By then, Ronald had arrived, he was waiting outside. The pain was still there obviously. Epidurals don't work immediately. Something happened though, I felt a gush. I strongly believed that my water broke. The OB was called in, it wasn't my water, just blood. Bloody show! (google it)
The pain was getting worse and worse, at this point everything was set up for me. They were just waiting on me. What were they waiting for?
Suddenly I knew "I feel like pushing!"
That's what they were waiting on.
The OB and a student were called in and they started getting ready.
Finally, I felt like I exploded and I gushed out again.
My water broke! I was sure this time.
"Yes, that was your water" the OB informed me.
OMG, IT'S GO TIME!
Now this is where everything that came felt new to me.
I felt the urge to push, that's something I didn't feel with my first.
They told me that when that urge came, to hold my breath, bare down, and just push with all I had.
I could feel all of it! I felt my body tense up, I felt my husband's hand on the back of my neck supporting me. I felt strong tight feeling on my bottom when I pushed. I felt my baby's head descending.
So many feelings at once. I was amazed!
After three pushes, the amazing feeling went away.
You see, while you're pushing, your body is actually expelling a baby, but once you stop pushing, it feels like you have something stuck up your vagina. That feeling is NOT pleasant at all.
I went with it though, it was uncomfortable but I let it be and I allowed my body to rest for a few seconds before the next contraction came and I was ready to push.
Again, we went through the same motions. Me pushing, my husband supporting, the OB lubricating. It felt wonderful! Then, when the three pushes were done came the "stuck" feeling.
Ugh!!! I hated it. Each time we took that little break, I would start to panic. It wasn't just unpleasant anymore, it hurt.
I remember saying that I couldn't do it anymore. I hoped they knew that I meant I couldn't deal with the breaks. I was actually enjoying the pushing part.
By the third or fourth contraction of the pushing phase, I remember the OB saying that her head was 1/4 of the way out. "What?!" All of this pushing for just a 1/4? No way! No way I was going to push that many times to get another 1/4 of a head out, and then another, and then another. No! I started to do weird math mentally and I refused the results!
On my fifth contraction I was determined to do more than 1/4. I pushed once, pushed twice but I was ready to give up on the third push.
Something magical happened then. I don't know what my husband said, I don't know what possessed me, but something shifted. The motivation and the strength combined with the panic that was going to come if that baby didn't come soon allowed me to do unthinkable. On that last push, I gathered all the power of all the women who mean something in my life and I pushed down with them. I felt it, I felt her head come out.
OH.MY.GOODNESS.SWEET.RELIEF!
I was told to stop pushing so they could check for the cord or anything else.
Sorry lady, I was no longer in control. My body finished pushing my sweet little baby on its own.
I had nothing to do with that push. It was all instinctual.
I cannot being to describe the rush of emotions that come with birthing a child.
It's combination of relief, happiness, fear, and many other things.
I felt them all.
They put the baby on my chest and I said hi.
Perfection looked at me in the eyes.
She was perfect.
Sophia Victoria Varillas was born on October 20th at 4:43 am.
She was 9lbs 7oz and 20in long at the time of her birth.
There is obviously more to this story, but if I kept writing, we would end up with a novel and aint nobody got time for dat.
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