Hello. Okay wow. I had a baby ONE year ago! Time really flies when you’re sleep deprived.
I’m embarrassed it has taken me so long to post my birth story. I wanted to post months ago but held out because of how overwhelmed I’ve been with life lately and how discouraged I felt after giving birth. I was so disappointed after labor and delivery. I know part of the way I felt was due to the hormonal shift, but it was also due to my insane control issues and the fact that things did not go at all as I expected.
“Expected.” Lol
I was kind of hoping to completely forget about the experience altogether and start fresh for the next baby (this makes zero sense ha) and I really didn’t want to be judged for not just sucking it up and being grateful that I “gave birth to a healthy baby.” I am well aware that I was able to bring home a perfectly healthy baby girl and that not all families are so blessed. I thank God for this every day. Please don’t take my story as a competition entry to win ‘Most Traumatic Birth Experience.’ I was simply let down due to my personal expectations not being met.
Some people reading this may find it confusing as to why I was so upset with the outcome of Shiloh’s birth. Listen, this blog post is long enough without delving into the ins and outs of hospital birth, OBGYN's, the cascade of interventions and how all of these things can ultimately affect baby and mother. If you know me, you know I have no problem sharing my opinions, so don’t worry your little hearts, more unsolicited posts about the birthing business are soon to come. But today’s post is just about the chaotic 41 hours leading up to the birth of my first child.
August 31st
It was the night of Bill and my 3rd anniversary. We decided to stay in, order takeout from our favorite restaurant and binge watch Master Chef (per my request as I was just too pregnant and too tired to want to get out on the town). Not to mention I was stressed to the max—the week before my OB asked to schedule an induction. Between me and whoever is reading this, I had no intention of showing up to said induction, but the stress of having to deal with the hospital and advocate for myself felt like such a feat. I was too large and too hot for anymore feats.
To try and avoid the nonsense I spent a week working to naturally induce labor. I tried spicy food, bouncing endlessly on the birth ball, pizza, drinking labor teas, the Miles Circuit, etc., to no avail until Wednesday night, the night before my scheduled induction.
10:30pm
Contractions started. I knew right away I was in labor. These contractions felt different than the Braxton Hicks I had been feeling in the weeks leading up. The first contraction was intense, but manageable. It lasted just a few seconds and then I went on about my business until not long after I had another very intense contraction.
I thought to myself, “No way.”
Just kidding. That’s not what I thought. I’m not here to mince words. I clearly thought and probably said out loud, “What in the actual hell?”
Maybe it was just a fluke because I was under the impression that during early labor I could rest up, maybe even finish a minor project (I was baking cookies). I thought I was supposed to have mild contractions, maybe 15 minutes apart at the least, right?
No, no. Not me. The 3rd and the 4th and so on, all came just as fast and lasted just as long until I was overcome by the intensity. This is when Bill started timing. 4 minutes apart, 60 seconds long. This went on for an hour.
My cookies finished baking, but instead of sitting down to rest and eat them I was hunched over in agony trying to finish what I could in the nursery while Bill was loading up my 5 million suitcases in the car. Surely Shiloh was coming home soon.
September 1
12:30am
We showed up to the hospital, unloaded the car and walked up to wrong entrance. It was locked and I panicked. “Why is the hospital closed!?”
Thank God for calm husbands in moments like these. We loaded the car, drove around to the right entrance, unloaded the car again and made our way up to triage to check in. My contractions were still very intense, 2-4 minutes apart and the nurses asked if I wanted to be checked. Out of curiosity I opted. The nurse looked up at me and spewed hate from her mouth.
“1 centimeter.”
So we waited. After an hour in triage there was still no change and I was given the option to return home or to stay for another hour to see if things would progress. I decided to stay and walk the halls with Bill, hoping to get things moving. I labored loudly up and down the hospital hallways, just absolutely wrecking the peace.
After our calm and pleasant walk around the building, the nurse checked again and said I was fully effaced but still only 1 centimeter dilated, so we decided to return home.
3:30am
Once home I hopped in the tub, turned on some worship music and lit a candle hoping to “relax.”
But there was no relaxing.
I moved to the bedroom to try and rest.
Nope, no resting either.
To the living room to just lay on the floor and ask God, “Why?”
No ma’am, no asking.
Back to the tub, the bedroom, the living room and so on and so forth…
1:30pm
I labored at home almost 12 hours and things were not seeming to progress. My contractions were still intense but started to slow down to about 6-7 minutes apart. Bill helped me out of the tub and we moved to the living room where he turned into Doula Diva Extraordinaire and led me through a movement circuit to get things moving again.
We danced, I bounced on the birth ball, laid in a Miles Circuit position of my choice, then repeat.
This surely got things rolling again and I hated him for it.
3:30pm
Contractions picked back up to 4 minutes apart so we packed up the house again and headed back to the hospital.
Arriving at the hospital was absolutely chaotic. 0/10 I would not recommend. The ladies at the desk were perplexed that I wasn’t there to be induced. Since I had an induction “scheduled” that day they thought I was showing up for my appointment. You know, because being swiftly pushed down the hall in a wheelchair by some kind stranger while loudly laboring was not evidence enough that I was in active labor and in no need of induction.
Anyways, we get checked into our room and a million and one people just start scrambling.
WHY!?
Like why are we scrambling as if I’m having some sort of life or death episode? Isn’t this what you do everyday!? Calm down!
There were 5 or 6 people in the room, not including my husband and me. The nurse working my IV blew the first one and then blew the second but insisted she didn’t and left it in my arm, dear Lord. My actual nurse was yelling at me for my demographics. There were wires, tape, belly bands, beeping… scrubs and tennis shoes running franticly, everywhere, a mess really.
Finally there was some sense of calm, aside from my hollering. I was checked, told I had dilated to a 6 and everyone left me and Bill to labor alone. For hours. HOURS! From late afternoon until the wee hours of the next morning.
September 2nd
2:50am
At this point I’m not even sure what day it is. I haven't slept in over 24 hours. Our OB came in and discussed the option to artificially rupture my membranes… oh yeah, I forgot to mention my water hadn’t broken yet. I was completely uneducated about this process but desperate to get things moving, so I opted. After rupturing, the amniotic fluid was found to be stained with meconium and they alerted the NICU team.
I was given instructions to push when I felt the urge. Well, I had been feeling the urge to push since my cookies came out of the oven Wednesday night… it’s Friday morning. But I understood what she meant, or at least I thought I did? My contractions became so intense after artificially breaking my waters that I thought for sure it was time, although I don’t remember ever being told I was complete. Nevertheless, I started pushing around 3:00am.
3:20 I pushed on my hands and knees.
3:58 I pushed on my left side.
4:25 I pushed in lotus position.
After pushing over an hour I was absolutely exhausted, my contractions were wild, and I was wildly out of control. Up until that point my labor had been intense but controlled. It quickly turned into frantic screaming and crying, grabbing on to my husband and begging him to help me.
5:10
The nurse came back in and I asked her to check because something felt off. She checked and found I had gone backwards in my progression, Shiloh was face up and caught, and I started swelling. I was given Benadryl and told to wait.
The next two hours were probably the longest of my life. This is when I finally called my mom screaming. She asked no questions, just showed up.
After waiting an hour to see if the Benadryl would help nothing had changed. I was asked if I’d like an epidural and I kindly declined. I was so determined to birth this child without any form of pain management…
…and 30 minutes later I called the nurse back.
7:15am
The anesthesiologist came and in 10 minutes I was drugged up and able to rest for about 2 hours.
After waking up things seemed to be “progressing normally,” whatever that meant. So we just waited.
2:00pm
The nurse came in and told me Shiloh’s heart rate was beginning to drop at the end of each contraction. I was dilated to an 8 and given the option to continue laboring as long as she could tolerate, but if there was no change in her heart rate or my dilation progress in the next few hours a c-section would be discussed.
This absolutely broke me, but I wasn’t surprised at this news. I could have written an essay explaining the possibility of this happening the moment I opted for the epidural.
Our L&D nurse during the last few hours of my labor is who truly saved this labor process. She was amazing. I felt like we were in the dark about everything until she showed up that morning. An angel, truly. It was reassuring having someone who knew and understood my goal was to birth naturally, and while I did choose to get the epidural she was determined to help me still achieve a vaginal delivery.
For the next two hours she helped keep me moving by changing my position every 30 minutes in order to get Shiloh into a better position. We prayed and played worship music.
4:30
Our nurse came in to check me. She had the most heartwarming reaction to my progress. A huge grin and a high-five because I was complete and it was time to push!
I pushed for 40 minutes and Shiloh entered the world at 5:11, sunny side up, eyes wide open at 7lbs, 11oz, 21in long.
They took her away immediately to clear the meconium that was in my amniotic fluid from her lungs. She was having trouble breathing on her own. I had no idea what was happening, just strapped to the bed like a prize pig, getting sown up, but Bill was able to stand by her side the entire time. The NICU team spent about 15 minutes with her in our room until she was finally able to breathe on her own and they walked her back over to me.
She was perfect.
Shiloh: “His gift.”
*TLDR; I labored 41 hours, got an epidural at hour 33, Shiloh arrived sunny side up at 7lbs 11oz.
I would love to hear from you. If you have any questions, curiosities about my pregnancy or my birth story please feel free to message me on Instagram or leave a comment below. If you like what you read hit the like button and share with your friends!
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Twitter @THE_RachelDaNel
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