Thursday, September 27 I woke up to get ready to go in for an NST and ultrasound to check my fluid levels since I was 41 weeks. I went to the bathroom and it appeared that I had lost my mucus plug, which was encouraging because I hadn’t had any signs of labor starting any time soon. I knew it could still be days, but I was glad my body was at least doing something on it’s own.
At my appointment, my NST and fluid levels looked great, baby was still doing well in there! However, I was discouraged when the ultrasound confirmed that baby was posterior, which had just happened in the last week and I was desperately trying to change with lots of forward leaning positions. When it came time for my regular appointment I asked to be checked (after declining it for weeks because I didn’t want it to mess with my head) but my cervix was so far up there she could barely touch it with her fingertips let alone tell if I was dilated or effaced. She ended up giving up because she was worried she’d hurt me, which I appreciated since it was very uncomfortable. Leaving that appointment, I felt discouraged because I had been trying all week to get baby to flip and he still hadn’t and for all I knew labor wasn’t anywhere close since she couldn’t even reach my cervix. On the drive home, I cried and asked God to please turn my baby. It was hard knowing I’d basically spent the last 4 days on my hands and knees and yet I still had no control over what was happening in my own body. I also just expressed my fear to the Lord that I wouldn’t go into labor on my own and need to be induced at 42 weeks, which would cause me to need to give birth in the hospital rather than the birth center as I had been planning all along. As I poured out my heart to the Lord, He reminded me that even though I’m not in control, He is and He knew when the right time and place was to bring my baby into the world. Being the control freak that I am made surrendering to that difficult, but I trusted that God was good and He knew what He was doing even if I didn’t.
I got home from my appointment and continued doing forward leaning positions, alternating between hands and knees, sitting backwards in a chair, and sitting on my birth ball while leaning forward. At about 2:45, I went to move positions and felt a small little gush. I went to the bathroom to investigate and there was what appeared to be clear, watery mucus. The gush made me wonder if my waters had broken but the fact that it was mucus-y and not like water made me think it wasn’t. I did some research online and concluded that because of the consistency it probably wasn’t my waters. Throughout the afternoon, I continued to feel little gushes when I’d move positions or stand up and it was really confusing because that made me think it could be. Finally, I asked my doula what she thought and she was just as baffled as I was so I called the midwife on call and described to her what what going on. She also thought that since it was mucus-y it wasn’t my waters and it was probably just from the gel that was used for my cervical check that morning. She told me if I continued feeling gushes when I moved or stood up and it was soaking a pad then I should call her back.
I got home from my appointment and continued doing forward leaning positions, alternating between hands and knees, sitting backwards in a chair, and sitting on my birth ball while leaning forward. At about 2:45, I went to move positions and felt a small little gush. I went to the bathroom to investigate and there was what appeared to be clear, watery mucus. The gush made me wonder if my waters had broken but the fact that it was mucus-y and not like water made me think it wasn’t. I did some research online and concluded that because of the consistency it probably wasn’t my waters. Throughout the afternoon, I continued to feel little gushes when I’d move positions or stand up and it was really confusing because that made me think it could be. Finally, I asked my doula what she thought and she was just as baffled as I was so I called the midwife on call and described to her what what going on. She also thought that since it was mucus-y it wasn’t my waters and it was probably just from the gel that was used f that morning. She told me if I continued feeling gushes when I moved or stood up and it was soaking a pad then I should call her back. age labor since my contractions weren’t getting into a pattern on their own so as I was doing those, I was texting my mom. I told her about my watery mucus confusion and she was sure that it was my waters and I needed to go in right away. I called the midwife (who was now different from who had been on call the night before) and explained to her all that was going on. She was also baffled by my explanation of what was going on so she told me to meet her in the office at 9:45 that morning and she would check to see if my water really had broken or not. I was happy to be getting some clarification I was surprisingly calm and collected.
My husband and I decided to pack our bags in the car just in case for some reason we wouldn’t be coming home but we were pretty sure they’d just send us home. At the appointment, the midwife did an internal exam (there were actually two midwives as one was new and in training) and they were both stumped by the mucus. They could see it pooling and coming out but though it was too sticky to be my waters. They did a test where they put a strip in it and if it turns blue, there’s amniotic fluid present. It turned blue, but they weren’t convinced since blood can cause it to turn blue and there was some blood mixed in with the mucus. They ended up making two slides to look at under the microscope to really see for sure if there was amniotic fluid. During the internal exam, they checked me and I was 3 cm dilated and 75% effaced which was huge progress from the day before! That made me feel much better- something was happening and I wasn’t crazy.
When they came back from looking at the slides, Anne, the midwife, said “I have good news and bad news.” I assumed the bad news would be my water hadn’t broken but I was wrong. She told me that under the microscope she could see there was amniotic fluid present, meaning my water sac had indeed ruptured and she hypothesized that the mucus was a result of my waters and mucus plug mixing together. She also told me that since they had broken over 18 hours ago, I risked out of the Birth Center and she was admitting me to the hospital to be induced. I cried. She explained that when the water bag has been broken for so long it increases the risk of infection so we needed to have a baby really soon. I continued to cry. Being induced and being in the hospital were the two things I wanted to avoid at all costs. I was terrified. Anne explained how some things in the hospital would be different than the birth center but that I was still her patient so she would still be the one going with me and delivering my baby. She encouraged me that my body had already made progress on it’s own and that was a good thing.
We drove straight from there to the hospital. I called my doula and mom to let them know what was going on. My mom encouraged me that the hospital was the safest place I could be and that it was going to be okay. Once we got there, Troy and I took a minute in the car to just pray and process what was happening. I think it’s safe to say we were both disappointed and scared.
Once we got all the intake stuff out of the way, they started me on pitocin at about 11:30am. Since pitocin contractions are more painful, my midwife wanted to start me on the lowest dose and slowly increase it so as not to shock my body too much. She hoped that since I had made some progress on my own already, that I wouldn’t need the largest dosage. My husband and I were able to eat a meal and fuel up for the labor ahead.
At the beginning, it was mostly just Troy and I in the room working through contractions. He rolled tennis balls balls on my back during them and encouraged me that I was doing great. Once contractions started to get more intense, he took the reins and asked the nurse for some more support which I really appreciated since I wasn’t planning on asking for more support but know now that it was definitely needed.
The contractions intensified (as they should) but were primarily in my lower back and not in my belly. They got to the point that the back labor was debilitating and I struggled to hold up my own body weight so, against my own plans, I got in the bed. I labored in the bed switching between my side, hands and knees, and leaning over the peanut ball. During each contraction, Troy and my doula would do hip squeezes and (forcefully) roll a tennis ball in the middle of my lower back. That may seem like such a small detail but those really were what made the contractions bearable. If a contraction started and at least one set of hands wasn’t ready to squeeze or apply pressure, I was quick to say any single word that would get the point across without expending too much energy like “hips” or “squeeze”. It’s amazing what an impact they had on the contractions!
Once I got to about 8cm dilated, my body starting pushing on its own. The only way I can explain it is that it felt like throwing up but way more intense. I could feel my uterus contracting and pushing the baby down and I could not control it even if I had wanted to. Although it was physically exhausting, it was also a relief because it made the back labor go away for the most part. This went on for about two hours before I was ready to actively push. My cervix had a lip that was not pulling back and making it difficult for baby to get his head around it. My midwife used her fingers during contractions to pull the lip back in hopes of helping baby move down.
Once I was ready to actively push, I first did some pushing in a side lung position, alternating sides. My midwife said she wanted me to have at least three pushes on each side so as to open my hips and hopefully help baby move down. After those three pushes on each side, I decided to lay in the bed. My hips and lower back were aching and tired from the back labor and laying in the bed gave the best relief. I then tried pushing the “traditional” way of using my hands to pull my knees back but I felt like I was expending a lot of energy but not making any progress. After a couple pushes, my midwife suggested using a bar they could put over the bed to get more traction when I pushed. I agreed to try it, willing to do whatever it took to get the baby out! I put my feet up on the sides of the bar and pushed into it while simultaneously pulling with my arms on a sheet that was tired around the middle of the bar. With some coaching from my midwife, my pushes were much more effective and I could feel it!
I did get to the point of feeling like I just couldn’t do it. I was exhausted and really didn’t think I could make it one more second but my midwife told me she wasn’t going to let me give up. She told me how proud she was of me for how far I’d made it and that she knew I could do it. She encouraged me that I was so close to meeting my baby. For some reason, I believed her. I knew she wasn’t just trying to butter me up to make me keep going but I sincerely felt that she meant it when she said she believed in me. She encouraged me through each push and let me know how much progress I was making with each one. When she saw his head and told me she could see he had a lot of dark hair, I couldn’t believe it! I reached down and felt the top of his head. I was touching my baby’s head! Ah! My doula could tell that made me emotional so she asked me if I wanted a mirror to look (even though I had said in our prenatal meetings I didn’t want to see anything) and I said “Yes”! I had to see my baby. Amazingly, seeing his head coming out didn’t scare or disgust me like I had feared, but gave me the motivation that I needed to keep on going. My baby was so close that I could see and feel him!
My midwife had warned me that I might need to stop pushing and wait for the next contraction once his head was born to get the shoulders out so I was prepared to stop pushing if she needed me to. But once his head was crowning (maybe even past crowning), my midwife said “This will be the last one! You’re going to meet your baby!” I looked at my doula and said “Really?!” and she said “Yes! It’s that close! Are you ready to become a mom?” I don’t think my brain could comprehend what they were saying because I really did not think he was about to come out. I think I thought they were lying or something but sure enough, as soon as I started to push his whole body slid right out, the midwife grabbed him, handed him to me, and I laid him on my chest while repeating “Oh my gosh!” in disbelief.
I had done it! I was so proud of myself! I had gotten my baby out and here he was, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, just laying on my chest. It was the most surreal moment. Talk about a hormone high! I went from sheer exhaustion to feeling like Wonder Woman ready to take on the world. In that moment I understood why people had multiple children (something I briefly doubted in the throes of back labor). This moment was all worth it. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat to relive that moment of meeting my baby and holding him on my chest.
Noah and I cuddled, nursed, and got to know each other while my midwife stitched me up (I had a second-degree labial tear). Before she left, Anne came over to the side of my bed and looked me in the eyes and said something like “I am so proud of you. This was not at all what you planned. You didn’t want to be in the hospital, you didn’t get to use the nitrous or water like you wanted to, and you had to be induced and pitocin contractions hurt worse; not many women can labor naturally after being induced. But you did it! Good job!” Having her come take the time to tell me that was so meaningful. It really spoke to my heart and encouraged me to be proud of myself for what I had accomplished. It really was amazing. I rode that hormone high for hours, cuddling and loving my sweet baby boy. I’m pretty sure I could have done anything in those hours following Noah’s birth, I felt so alive and in love.
About a week after Noah's birth, Anne called to check on Noah and me. She asked about my thoughts and feelings surrounding the birth since it didn't go "according to plan". I told her that I was so grateful to have such an amazing birth team supporting me and encouraging me the whole time (which I do believe made all the difference!). She said again how proud she was of me and then she said, "Now you know you could do anything for your son." I think that in some ways that is what birth is about. Knowing what I was able to do to bring my son into this world, there's nothing I wouldn't do to love and protect him now that he's here.
On September 28, 2018, I birthed my son, and the heart of a mother was birthed in me.
