Personal: A Birth Story
Some people write because it comes easy. Some people write because it's a hobby. Some write out of obligation. But then again some people write because they don't want to forget. I'm that person. Most anything I've ever written was only written because I'm afraid I won't remember the details of the story. And all stories, both good and bad, are important. At least I think they are.
October 10th was a life changer for me. I never thought I'd be THAT girl: the one who talks about her baby all the time, or the one who honestly wants to share her birth story with the lady in the grocery store. I had an eye appointment yesterday and the Dr. was asking me about my little boy. We got to talking and suddenly we were sharing every last detail about our experiences with birth! I just had no idea that there's this sort of secret club mother's all belong to where it just doesn't get old to talk about the craziness that you went though to deliver a child! But I digress...and though this is very personal and may not be for the faint of heart, I should start at the beginning.
Three years ago, my husband and I decided to set a date to have a child. We'd always known we were going to try and have children, but we were both admittedly selfish and too busy to share our lives with someone else. We were thrilled just to be with each other. However, we both thought it wise to at least just set a date. We choose early winter of 2011 because winter is our slower season and we're both winter babies; it was three years away, so it gave us some time to travel; and because, well, this Vietnamese woman who's been doing my nails for the last 9 years said that 2011 was a great year to have a child. Ha! I totally believed her. So it was set--but with a pre-pregnancy agreement: Should we freak out in 2011 about it, we would set another date, so no pressure! Okay, Done! And three years went by in a whirl as we simply just lived our lives. We did more things than I think are even possible to fit into three years! We opened up a Christmas tree lot, built a huge barn on our business property in Boulder, started a small wedding photography business, designed a few cars, and traveled the world! That last part is real...I mean after Australia, Fiji, New Zealand, and 9 countries in Europe, that has to qualify for at least a little world travel! =)
And 2011 crept up quickly. But we were ready. At least to try. However, I have to be honest in saying that I had no idea our plan would actually work. The. First. Time. No idea. But it did and suddenly we were in this whirlwind of a new life. Deep in my gut I'd known I was pregnant after only a few weeks, however when we went to my OB, she told me it was nearly impossible for me to have known because what she could see on her small machine scan was only a small pin-dot. I was sent to another part of the hospital to have an expensive, more "high tech" ultrasound to confirm it. After waiting a few hours, and sitting through, sadly, a mean sonographer reading, we were told that while it looked like I was pregnant, it was still too early to be sure so it would be best if I had some blood drawn to check my hormonal levels, and then return in a week to do it all over again. My OB had told me that if my levels went up, then I probably would have a baby, but if they hadn't, then most likely it wasn't a successful attempt. She also dealt me a blow that day: Oh, and Shannon? It looks like you have a bicornuate uterus. Were you aware of this? Wait, what? My mind started wandering. Did I know this? I had no idea why I was being asked or how it mattered. But apparently it was a big deal--A uterine anomaly that's cause isn't explainable. In layman's terms, it means that my uterus is heart shaped and small, rather than vase-shaped and roomy. There were tons of implications with this and it would mean I'd be high risk, IF I really was pregnant. It also meant, I realized later, that I'd spend a few nights up late on the computer doing research on my newly found condition...sobbing over every story and scary event I might have to endure. I remember thinking, hmm, I didn't picture it going this way. Where are the balloons, parties, and loud screams of joy?! There was nothing left for me to do than ride it out and see what happened. Jason and I decided at that point to wait as long as possible before telling anyone. It didn't seem as exciting knowing what could be at stake and what's the sense in worrying everyone else too?
A week later, I'd returned for blood-work. My levels had more than doubled and my OB was shocked at how "normal" things actually looked. She'd also told me that my tiny pin-dot had grown as large as a grain of rice! One teeny piece of rice! Wow. So small! I was also a staggering 6 weeks pregnant...which mathematically didn't add up for me since that was literally impossible...but that's a whole other blog post. Because, really, the dating for pregnancies is just rubbish. And it's more confusing than an algorithm...which I don't understand and, furthermore, had to look up to spell. Nice. Either way, I was pregnant, but so not out of the woods.
Our weeks went by eventful--full of Dr's appointments and more ultrasounds than should really be necessary. Yet, I'd never been pregnant before, so physically "seeing" this baby grow before my eyes was spectacular and I remember feeling a bit dependent on the ultrasounds. When I reached my second trimester, the ultrasounds stopped as I was progressing uniquely "normal" for my condition. It was hard to go for weeks without a peak in my belly. And I had a hard time sleeping because I wasn't sure my baby was getting bigger. It's so hard going day to day through your routines and not truly know what's going on in there. I have learned to be excessively appreciative for modern technology.
As my second trimester was well underway, I found myself on a bit of a high! I didn't have the normal preggo cravings that so many women talk about, but I did experience total pregnancy heaven in a way. I was happy, still very active, well-rested, and glowing. And I started to believe this baby would make it, albeit a small, early delivery only a month or so away. Boy, oh boy, was I wrong!
My third trimester seem to come all too quickly. July brought the heat and I anticipated any moment my belly would give me. There was one night, and thankfully only one night, which scared me more than I'd like to admit. It was two days before I was to fly to California for my best friend's wedding and I'd woken up with a horrible pain in my abdomen. I'd never felt anything like it and when it didn't got away after a few hours, I sought my Dr's. advice. I was tested for pre-term labor, but was told later that day it was a false alarm. However, the pain I'd experienced lasted 24 hours and I remember just writhing in it. I couldn't sleep, lay down, or eat that day. And I'd spent hours sitting on the couch rocking back and forth throughout the night. I remember giving myself a deadline. If, I thought, by 9am when we're supposed to be leaving for the airport and the pain is still this bad, I'll check myself into the hospital for pain meds. Because honestly, I can't continue like this. The charlie-horse on my left side was entirely debilitating! I prayed hard that night. I prayed until I couldn't think of what I'd say. And by divine intervention, because, honestly, there is nothing else it could be, the pain stopped. Exactly at 8:15am the pain stopped. I felt relief so strongly I thought possibly I'd blocked it out. But, no, it was gone. And it never resurfaced. What it was I'll never know, but I was extremely happy it passed. By 9am we were on our way to Cali to attend Kimmy's wedding! As my belly had grown to what I felt was an abnormally large hot air balloon, I found my balance wasn't quite as it was before on 4" heels! Regardless, I was able to make it through her wedding with flying colors, granted some newly discovered cankles I wasn't too thrilled with!
Shortly after we returned from Cali, I hired a doula, after a good-friend of mine raved about hers. I wasn't entirely sure what a doula was, but after hearing the term "birth assistant" I was on board. I interviewed only one and Bonnie was it. I clicked with her immediately and she quickly became an increasingly important part of my pregnancy. She gave Jason and I private birthing classes a few weeks before so we'd have an idea what to expect. The most vivid class was the one in which she tried to prepare me for the pains of labor. She explained how contractions were just really intense pains that would come and go. She said the longest ones are usually one minute long and then there would be a break for a few minutes. She had Jason bring a bowl of ice into our living-room as we sat on the floor. We were instructed to pick up a handful of ice and squeeze it for one full minute. Without further instruction we did so...and I suddenly thought I'd be crazy to try natural child-birth! It'd only been about 18 seconds and my hand was burning. I was extremely uncomfortable and kept saying how awful it was. I couldn't believe how much it annoyed me and after a minute, I was reluctant to want to pick it up and try again. But we did, and I remember praying that on the day my baby would come, I'd be able to deal better with labor than I had with a few measly pieces of ice. Right. Regardless, hiring Bonnie was the single greatest decision I've made in a long time.
If you're still reading this, you deserve a gold star. Plain and simple. It took me awhile to get the background of the story together from memory and a few thousand words later, here I am. My birth story:
"For this child I prayed; and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him." 1 Samuel 1:27. I spent much of my pregnancy praying. Praying mostly that my will would be the will of God. I wanted this baby, but as I'd been told from day one that my chances for miscarriage, still-birth, and pre-term labor was so much higher than normal, I'd come to expect that one of them was bound to happen. O ye of little faith. I'd convinced myself that pre-term labor was the most likely. But, week 37 was easy. Then week 38 came and went. By week 39, I was sure the baby was going to come any minute, but as I approached the middle of week 40, I was SURE something was wrong. My mind tried to rationalize each and every thing that had happened. I tried to be okay with the fact that possibly I had been totally "normal" the entire time and that this baby was just going 100% by the books of his growth. I tried to be okay with this possibly being God's plan... Yet I woke up on the morning of October 10, 4 days past my due date, in tears. Suddenly I'd felt more out of control that ever before and I'd honestly felt something was terribly wrong. I'd been going to work everyday since I'd found out, but Jason encouraged me to call the Dr. (and Bonnie) just to ease my mind. After a quick chat with both, I was told to go in for an exam. My Dr. eased my mind about the dates of the baby's gestation, but informed me that if by the end of the week, the baby had not come, I was to be induced. Induction wasn't something I was looking forward too. In fact, I wanted to avoid it at all costs as long as the baby was healthy. Before I left, she checked me to see if I'd made any progress. I closed my eyes as she checked for dilation before I left. I laughed in disbelief when she said I was already 5 centimeters! The wave of relief I felt was unparalleled. I left the hospital for work shortly after, but didn't last there long. I'd been able to complete only one sale before I'd felt a small, blunt pain. It felt like a tight cramp, but it was still manageable. I wasn't comfortable sitting, so I stood and rocked from side to side, unnaturally, but involuntarily. Looking back, I was clearly having contractions, but for whatever reason, I didn't think that's what they were. After seeing so many movies of women breathing like animals and leaning over tables screaming out loud, I just assumed this was part of the third trimester. Foolish me.
I decided that since the cramping wasn't subsiding, I'd just head home to check out for the day. Jason jokingly asked what my plan was if I had contractions on the way home in the car, but I told him, well, then I guess I'll call you and pull-over...but trust me, it's a long way off. That afternoon, I'd spent an hour or so on the couch with the dogs when my youngest brother called. He came over to keep me company and brought me Mad Greens and an Coke Icee. In hindsight, this was the perfect start to the most awesome birth experience ever! I had the best "last supper" I could have wished for, and the cramps (that were really contractions) hardly felt like anything as Alan and I laughed on the couch watching Ellen.
On his way out, Alan told me to let him know if something "happened." We said our goodbyes and then I put in a load of laundry. I decided to lie down on the floor for a minute and sink into the cramping I was feeling. I prayed again, wondering if today really would be the day...even after all my tears earlier. Still, I was sure the pains I felt weren't contractions, but if they were, I told myself, then I got this in the bag! My father showed up at my door a few minutes later. He needed to drop something off before heading home and wanted to check on me since I'd left work earlier. I told him I was fine, just tired. We chatted for only a minute. He told me to hang in there and commented on the nice weather. As he headed for his car, my water broke. I remember hesitating...wondering if I should even tell him. It wasn't likely he'd notice anyway since I was wearing long pants, and I didn't want him to worry, but suddenly I couldn't contain my own thoughts. I blurted out, Dad! I think my water just broke. He came running at me arms wide open and screaming. I could see tears in his eyes already. In the mixture of his excitement all I could do was stand there in shock. I wasn't panicked about the next move because Bonnie, and the Dr.s' had told me that most first babies take anywhere from 10 to 15 hours of labor. I was simply shocked that my baby was on his way! He rushed home to shower from work on my insistence that I was fine, but only after he took a picture of us together...just so he had one. I said I'd call him if anything else happened. Then I stood there alone, with tears streaming down my face, and laughed.
I decided to call Jason. It was just after 6:30 and I assumed he was headed home.
(Ring. Ring. Click.)
Me: Hey, love!
J: Hi!
Me: Guess what?
J: What?
Me: Well, I think my water just broke.
J: It did?! So, what does that mean?
Me: I'm not sure. I guess I won't have to be induced!
J: So do we need to go to the hospital, are you having contractions?
Me: Not really. Just cramps...but Bonnie said it takes a long time, so I'd say we just wait.
J: Ok yea. Well I was actually headed to Home Depot. Do you think I should rush home?
Me: No. I'll call you if something else happens. I'm just going to call the Dr. to let them know.
J: Ok babe. Love you so much!
Me: Love you!
(Click.)
I laugh when I read it now. But this is our life.
I decided to sit in the bathroom...to be on the safe side. I called the on-call Dr. next. She told me I was probably not going into labor and that possible my water hadn't truly broke. Uh... Sometimes, she said, you just think it did. After seeing approximately 2 liters leave my body in only a few minutes, I was pretty sure that's what it was, but I decided it was best not to argue. Either way, she said, call me when you're contractions start and make sure to come to the hospital when they're 5 minutes apart. Right. 5 minutes. Will do. My phone started beeping, dinging, and clicking. I suddenly realized that the news of my water breaking was spreading through my family circle like wildfire. I decided to check only one text. My friend Tess had written: "I'm thinking about you. It's a full moon and I think you'll have your baby tonight along with a bunch of other women. ;) Love you." I laughed to myself since her text came only minutes before my water broke. I really hoped she was right.
I was still in the bathroom when Jason came home. He laughed when he saw me and asked if he should shower from work just in case we had to leave. Something strangely cosmic happened to me when I saw him. It was as if suddenly I knew internally it was okay to have this baby because right then, I had my first true contraction. Jason rushed over, is this a contraction? Amateurishly I laughed, yea, I think so. Jason ran to the other room to grab his phone. He said he'd start a timer so we could see if they were. His iPhone hadn't even loaded the stopwatch-mode before I had another one. Jason and I looked at each other. Eyes wide open. It couldn't have been even 2 minutes since the first one I'd had...so what was this? He started the timer. I stood up to change positions and had another one. I will never forget what Jason said next: Shannon...that wasn't even 2 minutes! What's wrong with this phone?! We both started laughing, but it was concluded we weren't timing them right. I had Jason call Bonnie. Although she was skeptical, she said she'd be right over if we thought the contractions were that close. I decided to pack for the hospital, but they kept coming. By what I think was number 6, they seemed pretty intense. All the planning we'd done for laboring at home was quickly becoming useless. Jason brought me a big ball to sit on, but I wasn't recovering long enough to even change positions. I heard a tinge of panic in his voice when he asked what he should be doing. All I remember thinking was, this isn't how we'd planned it, and I want my mommy! I suddenly thought the hospital would be the safest place. Jason ran to get our pups put away and I heard him calling Bonnie to turn around and just head for Boulder Community. Yea, he said. They're real and I don't know how, but they're fast.
Minutes later, I was in the car. Jason was running back and forth as fast as he could, while I clutched the door-handle in a death-grip. I'd had 3 contractions on the way out of the house. I tried hard to clear my mind and think of nothing else but breathing. I said more prayers. This time, they were selfish, and I prayed for peace. October nights are black, and our car-ride to the hospital was done in almost total darkness. Jason told me to squeeze his hand when it hurt. I had to laugh later, because he'd screamed himself when I did. I suppose laboring women have the strength of ten men and I didn't know I'd almost broke his hand.
Although our hospital trip only took ten minutes, it was just about the longest 10 minutes of my life. Pulling up to to the hospital is a vision entirely blurry in my memory and I was seeing everything in front of me as if I was floating above myself. I could see the fuzzy red lights glowing from the EMERGENCY entrance sign and I felt relief on seeing my mom and Bonnie waiting anxiously for me at the door. The ran to the car to help me out just as soon as the car stopped. My mom's first words were: Oh Bonnie! This is real. You can see it in her face. Getting out of the car was a feat and I thought the contractions would never stop. Barely through the front door, I remember dropping to my knees during another contraction. I was still vaguely aware that people were probably watching and although I was fetal, I tried not to make a scene. I took a few steps towards the elevator, but bent over with another one. A young couple, clearly expecting their baby in a month or so, was sitting on a couch only a few feet from me. I assumed they were doing their hospital tour and I remember seeing their faces go white as I held my breath in pain. I tried hard to make it look easier than it was...try to be graceful, I teased myself...and I've since wondered if I'd made their anticipation of baby a tad too real. As soon as the contraction ended, Bonnie told me that there wasn't time to walk up to Labor and Delivery and that I needed to get into a wheelchair so she could push me there. Sitting down was just about the last thing I'd wanted to do, so I knelt backwards instead and she pushed me quickly through the hospital hallways and into the elevator. It was quiet for a minute or so, and I think we all just listened to our breath in that moment. When the elevator doors opened, Bonnie pushed me passed the check-in nurses. There just wasn't time. I felt relief that I'd made it and I knew my family was waiting nearby with bated breath. I was taken directly to an open room and I crawled onto the hospital bed like a child. Hi Shannon, someone said. My name is Allison, I'm going to be your labor and delivery nurse. I'm going to hook you up to a fetal monitor... but that was really all I'd heard. My contractions were every two to three minutes and my body was entering a transitional phase. Apparently, this stage of labor occurs right before your body involuntarily pushes. I felt like vomiting and it was in that moment that I thought I might die. I'm deathly afraid of throwing up and this part of the labor was by far the worst. I curled up in a ball with tears. Jason held my hand and my mom tried to rub my back, while Allison held a bucket and Bonnie fed me ice-chips. Strangely, I remember thinking, Try, Shannon. Try hard to enjoy this. It won't last forever. A few long minutes passed. Allison told me she'd have to get an IV in me for fluids as a precautionary, but we all knew I was passed the point of medicated pain management...even if I'd wanted to use it. I hung my arm over the bed and clutched a pillow to my chest as she shoved a needle in my wrist. My contractions were getting longer and more intense and I wasn't even sure how that was possible.
After what seemed like every possible laboring position, my body involuntarily started pushing. It was the most intensely crazy feeling I've ever had, and it frightened me. I looked at Jason and told him I couldn't do this. Then I told my mom I couldn't, then Bonnie, then Allison, then God... Everyone in the room kept reassuring me that not only could I do it, I was doing it. My body pushed again and I wanted to sink into a hole. I tried resisting the pain and arched my back to defy it. With every push, I fought hard to contain it. This is so true to who I am. I usually oppose change and try to control everything. The other-worldly part of the brain your body enters during natural childbirth is the most fascinating place. But leave it to me to try and escape it. It was Bonnie who realized what I was doing. She quickly put me in a new position. My legs were now propped up on a pushing-bar. My mother was to support one leg, and Alison the other. Bonnie wrapped a sheet around the bar and then around both of my wrists and told me to hold on. As Jason knelt down beside my bed, she told me to focus on her hand in front of me. She told me to be as quiet as I possibly could. Then she told me to commit to the pushing. Push back, Shannon. I want you to take a deep breath when I tell you, and push for as long as you can. When you can fully commit and be inside the pain, the pain will be over and you can hold your baby. I whimpered a small cry and though I tried not to say it again, I told her I couldn't. But it wasn't the truth. I couldn't get my words and my mind to line up. I focused as hard as possible and held my breath. Bear down, she said. Good mama. You're doing it! I can see your baby.
My mother fought back tears with every push I made; she could see him too. Jason stayed close to my face and kissed me on the forehead. Once I'd committed to pushing, the pain reached it's max. No longer did I feel like it controlled me. It wasn't getting any more intense and I started feeling as though I'd regained control. I took a deep breath. Pushed as hard as I could, then relaxed during the small breaks. Repeat, repeat, repeat. I remember it being the easiest part of the entire birth. I had relaxed enough somehow to slow things down and after each major push, I laid quietly until the next one. Jason told me later that it looked as though I was sleeping in-between each contraction. Who'd have thought? ...because only an hour earlier, I'd felt as though a volcano had erupted inside me.
I pushed every few minutes for over an hour. My body was jello. I felt weak, exhausted, and useless. I was ready to be done, but secretly prayed for a longer break between contractions. Bonnie fed me ice-chips and fanned my face with a cold washcloth. I reached for Jason and mumbled again that I wasn't sure I could keep going. I wanted to smile at him, tell him I loved him, but my mouth wouldn't cooperate. He whispered: I know you can do it Shannon. God will help you, I just said a prayer. A tear ran down my cheek, but I held my breath once more. I heard my mom start to cry and the Dr. say, Okay, mama. There's the head! I pushed again. It was like an angel choir rang out as a little baby boy was scooped up and laid on my chest! Jason burrowed his face in mine and we cried, while my mother said over and over again how absolutely beautiful he was. I have never felt such joy or sweet relief as I did in that moment. The realization that all the pain was over, that I had done it entirely on my own, and that a tiny baby was crying out to me was exhilarating. And I have never known such love.
In a perfect world, my story would have ended here, but only a few minutes passed before I was informed that I would be taken into surgery. Although this wasn't what I'd wanted to hear and I longed to bond and snuggle with my new family, I knew I didn't have a choice. After the equivalent of herculean pushing, I'd endured a 4th degree tear. It required an hour long surgery and over 100 stitches. A spinal was necessary and my recovery would take far longer than most. But nothing, not even that, could take me off the high I'd just experienced. I had the greatest birth experience I could have imagined for myself and was surrounded by love more than I knew possible. My mother had always said she'd have baby after baby if all she had to do was give birth and skip everything else. It wasn't until I'd done it myself that I realized how she could feel that way. It's nothing you can explain, but I fully believe it's one of life's greatest highlights.
Our little boy, Elijah Armani, is the joy of our life and our biggest accomplishment together. I have no idea where the time has gone and I marvel at how much he learns on a daily basis and how I can love someone I've just met so passionately. The body is an amazing creation and I have healed well. And God is good, because the pains of labor aren't anything I can remember anymore. Of what I do remember, it was a day of joy and fun beyond measure. I am highly blessed. And strong. But I still can't squeeze an ice-cube worth a darn.
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Love to Bonnie Slater for the birth photography. And for all you do!! xx
