I hired a doula as soon as we came to North Carolina and chose to be under care of midwives, who were all excellent at their job, instead of a group of OBs. My experiences in giving birth to Ava and Darcy led me to those two decisions. I wish I could go back in time and tell my pregnant-with-Ava self to hire a doula and go to midwives. I learned a lot from my doula who I bonded with immediately (she is a believer and a prayer warrior). It was my third baby and I was still learning about giving birth. My midwives were very supportive of the decisions I made. So the education from my doula and the support of midwives made my birth experience pretty awesome.
Blaize came two weeks late. Going a week past due was the hardest part but the second week was not because I just shifted my perspective on waiting. I had a lot of support from my doula who checked in on me everyday. The midwives knew that I did not want to be induced and they monitored me with twice-weekly ultrasounds and non-stress fetal tests (they record the baby's heartbeat and kicks for 20 minutes) and we always passed with flying colors. There was no decay in the placenta, the amniotic fluid level was fine, my vital signs were fine, Blaize was snug and happy, etc. The sonographer guessed Blaize to be about 8 lbs.
During those two weeks past due, I had contractions off and on. There were a couple of days when the contractions began to speed up, looking as if labor was starting but they fizzled out. It was frustrating. They were not hard contractions and I instinctively knew they were not the real contractions that ended with a baby in my arms but I wasn't sure. I was doing everything I could to kickstart labor because I did not want to be induced. All those "practice contractions" (it's real labor, called prodromal labor, which is very common) were doing the job because I was dilating to 5cm. My midwives warned me with the prodromal labor and being at 5cm, the baby may come very fast. We were an hour away from the hospital so I was a bit apprehensive but knew I could count on my doula.
As my two-weeks-post-term date came up, I stopped trying to start labor and just relaxed and conserved energy. On the day of being exactly 2 weeks post-due, I went in for an ultrasound check-up, my midwife said we needed to discuss inducing. I'd done extensive research on going MORE than two weeks past due (most OB practices only allow you to go 1 week past due, the midwives said 2 weeks), studied the risks and benefits, talked and prayed with Greg and we decided that we wanted an additional 4 days to give the baby a chance to do what he needed to be ready for the world. The midwife agreed (I'm telling you, they are super awesome ladies!). We made a date for 4 days later.
That night, after having made the date for induction, I began researching the induction methods that would give me the best chance at giving birth successfully without pain medicine. I talked to my doula and other ladies who experienced induction and tried to formulate a plan. I'd had no contractions (false, mild, or real) for several days and it was looking like I was going to be induced. It was getting late and fatigue was setting in. Instead of sleeping on the couch to support my aching back as I'd done for weeks, I decided a change of scenery would be good; I went to bed. I snuggled up with Greg for a few minutes and my poor, tired body went to sleep.
My doula says snuggling with Greg probably triggered oxytocin in my brain which then triggered my labor. It is the love or hug hormone and a pretty important hormone for childbirth, bonding, and nursing. I woke up with a hard contraction not long after falling asleep. If I'd told this story fresh after giving birth, I would've told you the exact time I woke up. It may have been an hour and half later after sleeping - but isn't it just nice how labor starts without a full night's sleep? I think it was about 1:30am that I woke up with a contraction. It felt like the real deal but having seen labor fizzled out several times in the last couple of weeks, I didn't bother waiting for the next one and tried to go back to sleep. The next contraction came quickly and that got my attention. Greg was sleeping so I got up and got into a hot bath to see if labor would slow down. It didn't; in fact, it seemed to speed up a little. I timed it and was surprised at how close they were together -- 3 minutes and getting closer. I lunged out of the tub and felt panicky -- contractions were coming on fast and we were one hour away from the hospital! What happened to starting with contractions 15 minutes apart and gradually building up?
I woke Greg up and had him call the doula, midwife, and babysitter while I packed a couple last-minute things into my hospital bag. The doula was heading to our house but I knew instinctively that there was no time and had Greg call her again to meet us at the hospital. It'd taken one hour from the first contraction to getting into the van. I was burning up and pouring down sweat from the contractions so when we stepped out into the 20-degree, frosty night, I was just in my PJs. The cold air never felt so delicious and soothing as it did then. We got in the van and headed to the hospital. I was so afraid of having the baby in the car with no one besides Greg around; I really wanted to be surrounded by a cocoon of support. I urged Greg to go faster (he did 90 on the highways and it only took 30 minutes to get to the hospital). Greg had the AC up high and full blast to keep me cool. I vaguely remember Greg intermittently putting his hand back to touch my back (I was behind the driver seat, hunched over on a pillow) and how icy cold his hand was from running the AC on a wintry night and his cold hand felt so good. Most of the ride was spent staying on top of the contractions, fighting the thoughts of "I can't do this" which, in retrospect, was me going through transition, the hardest part of labor before pushing. The "I can't do this" thoughts are typical of the transition phase because of the intensity and rapidity of the contractions. I probably went from 5 cm to 10 in a little over an hour.
Greg stopped for gas on the way. Yes, he did. He filled up just enough to get to the hospital. Thank goodness for those working gas pumps left on during the night, even if the store is closed! When he pulled into the gas station and told me we needed gas, I tried to get mad but couldn't concentrate so I just focused on riding out the contractions, one at a time, trying not to be anxious that we were not at the hospital yet. It probably took less than 5 minutes but it seemed like eternity before he hopped back into the van and took off.
When we arrived, I climbed out of the van and immediately doubled over in a contraction, staring at my slippered feet on the pavement (I'd forgotten to put on real shoes). I felt a warm, calming hand on my back and saw my doula's shoes on the pavement next to mine. I was SO glad to see her feet and feel her soothing hand on my back! My anxiety and fearful tension disappeared. I was going to get that cocoon of support I really wanted. Everything was going to be okay. My doula coming straight to the car and infusing me with her calm was just perfect. How I loved her so!
After enduring the discomfort of contractions about 1.5 minutes apart in the emergency room while registering, I began complaining about how long registration was taking and how I needed to use the bathroom (in retrospect, a sign of the baby moving down). I was ready to climb into a soft bed and rest because my body was tired and done. A wheelchair appeared and whisked me to the delivery room. I saw my favorite midwife was on duty and I was so glad to see her, too. She checked me and said I was 10 cm and I could start pushing.
So then I did.
I was in a zone that all mothers go into when bringing life into the world. My brain had naturally switched off all the unnecessary high-functioning portions so I was barely aware of everything around me except that I was well loved, well supported, well-prayed over, and safe. I could receive instructions but could not analyze, think, predict, or formulate rational thoughts. All I could do was focus intensely on each contraction, one at at time. I had gone down deep into myself. Greg did the work of interpreting all the instructions, encouragement, and information relayed by the doula and midwife while supporting me as my husband. He wore many hats! All the things I learned from my doula in childbirth classes came to mind as I experienced what she said I would experience. I understood what was happening and I had no fear. When I asked for this or that, it was done. I wasn't just left to labor and push without much help; I was being soothed and comforted by the doula, midwife, husband, and nurse with rubbing my back, laying hot compresses on my lower back, helping me relax between contractions, etc.
It took an hour to push Blaize out because he was 10.5 lbs. When his head came out, there was a flurry because his body wasn't turning as babies normally do so they had to turn his body and help his shoulders slip out, which felt pretty unpleasant. He was 22 and 1/4 inches long. Blaize was born after 3.5 hours of labor, at 4:47am. The wise midwives were right that my labor would be fast.
I collapsed in relief and took a look at Blaize. He did look pretty hefty but I was shocked to learn he was ten and half pounds. I figured 9 lbs but not 10. He squalled for 20 minutes in my arms while we talked over his crying. My body, arms, and legs shook uncontrollably, a common response to the falling adrenaline levels. The midwife showed us my placenta which was healthy and did not look like a post-term placenta so it was speculated that my due date may have been off. My doula, Greg, and I processed the whole thing for a while before my doula went home in the early dawn light to sleep and we were wheeled off to a private room to recover and get to know Blaize.
It was an awesome birth experience and I think I was pretty high off of it for a long while. I understood why women who gave birth without pain medicine said they could go out and run a marathon or climb a mountain. It wasn't that they felt re-energized and strong just minutes after giving birth, but that they understood their deep capacity for powerful strength and endurance in both body and mind. God's intricate design for the woman's body and childbirth is pretty awe-inducing.
Well, Blaize is now 8 months and he is like a happiness spigot that never stops flowing, endowing us with his sweet gummy smiles, giving us hugs and kisses, making all of us glad that he is part of our family.
