Sawyer's Birth

Mitch and I woke up on November 6^th, 2015 and dropped the dogs off at my mom's before going to Virg's, a diner, for breakfast. We sat through breakfast thinking about how weird it would be that it was hopefully the last day of our lives before being parents.  I was nervous and excited, and I think Mitch was still wondering what life would be like had we never gotten pregnant.  He’d never thought he wanted kids, but here we were, about to welcome our child into the world.  I had my first membrane sweep appointment at 11am. At the appointment I found out I was dilated to 5cm and 85% effaced. My midwives had me drink some cotton root bark to speed things up. After the sweep we saw Mitch's grandpa in parking lot. Sawyer wouldn’t be his first great-grandchild, but the first one close enough to him that he would get to see grow up.  He was over the moon, and it showed by him showing up at the birth center to see how things went.

               Afterward, Mitch and I went to the mall and wandered around and I had begun getting contractions, although they were still mild and spaced apart too much to really make note of so we then went to my mom's house. We only stayed for a little bit, to check on our dogs since we had dropped them off at her house from that day until we were ready to go home with our new baby, and to fill her in on what all was going on. 

               We had the next sweep at 3:30. I had dilated to 5.5cm but was stretchable to 7cm and 85-90% effaced since the last sweep. I got more cotton root bark, which is nasty, by the way.  I hadn’t had an alcoholic beverage in months but I knocked it back like a shot and it went down easy. 

               We saw Mitch's grandpa, his mom, Brandy, and sister, Charlie in parking lot.  After filling them in on my progress Mitch’s mom took us to an early dinner at Red Mermaid Bistro where Mitch’s brothers, Nathan and Ryan, met us. My contractions were still irregular and spaced too far apart to get excited about, but they were becoming more noticeable at this point. The whole day felt exciting, even though everything we were doing was completely normal.  After dinner Mitch and I went to Barnes and Noble since I was close to finishing the book I was reading and knew I wouldn’t have time after having Sawyer to go browse a bookstore but would want more books.   We sat and talked and read and drank coffee to kill time until my final sweep at 8pm. I had dilated to 8cm. My membranes couldn't be swept again since there was nothing left to sweep so I got more cotton root bark and was put on the breast pump to stimulate stronger and longer contractions. We were officially there until baby time. Contractions didn’t hurt at all and being dilated to 8cm I felt like the rest of labor would be a breeze – I was SO close!

We called and texted the family members we wanted to know and Jim, Brandy, Charlie, Ryan, Randy, Nathan, Faith, Lesa, Sierra, and Sky all showed up to wait in the waiting area. My doula Seanté and photographer Kelley also showed up. I bounced on my birth ball and Seanté and Mitch applied counter pressure during contractions. I also pumped to continue to stimulate contractions.  Seanté and Kelley spent their time taking pictures, applying counter pressure, and talking to one another and telling me stories of their children.  The contractions were starting to become uncomfortable and slightly painful, but still completely bearable.  When I was allowed into the tub the water felt amazing.  I love baths, and this bath was so deep! I immediately felt more comfortable and was able to laugh and talk as normal between contractions.

               After a few hours my midwives wanted to check my progress. I got out and had another vaginal exam only to find out that I had gone from 8cm to 7cm. The midwives suggested sending Kelley and Seanté away and just having Mitch with me for a while. They understand that if you’re not 100% comfortable with someone then your labor can stall and even regress.  The midwives and Mitch all agreed that they felt it would help my progress to send them away.  I agreed, because I have a tendency to want to be polite and put on a “hostess” role, and realized that I had done so over the last few hours.  Sending them away definitely helped me progress.  All of our family was downstairs, out of sight and mind and my midwives retreated to their office leaving Mitch and I alone in the birthing room to reestablish the feeling of intimacy and security.  Birth is such an intimate and vulnerable thing – and I needed to focus on the emotional connection to my partner and allow myself to become vulnerable.  We laid in bed and cuddled and talked for a while and it seemed to have done the trick because soon I was back in the bath and in active labor.

               I always assumed that active labor happens around 4cm for most women, since that’s when most hospitals will admit a woman – so having gotten to 8cm I felt like I had this whole childbirth thing in the bag.  Oh how wrong I was.  I had 'screaming' contractions for about 2 hours but the lip my cervix couldn't open over her head because she had a nuchal hand.  Google it.  Or don’t.  It’s basically when baby is in the birth canal and has their hand up by their head, causing the amount of space I needed to open up to be even greater to accommodate her hand.  We didn’t know that’s why she was temporarily stuck until after she had crowned and my midwives saw the hand. I wanted to die. I begged for death and even said I didn't care if she died too. I was unprepared to surrender to my body.  I was terrified of its power.  My contractions were all in my back, and so intense that I had a hard time breathing.  They started to stack on top of one another and I felt like I was in a SAW movie. I begged for a break that would last more than seconds.  Just a few minutes to catch my breath and prepare for the next contraction was all I wanted.  My midwives could tell that I was fighting my body, and I was afraid, so they offered me some nitrous oxide to help me calm down enough to breathe.  I gladly accepted it.  I didn’t feel any effect from it other than having to hold the mask to my face myself made me focus on breathing, which helped.  It did nothing for the pain. It was far and away the worst pain I had ever been through and the most intense thing I've put my body though.  Mitch kept trying to readjust his positioning, as he had been sitting in the tub behind me to help support me during contractions, and I wouldn’t let him.  In hindsight I can’t imagine being stuck in an awkward position for hours and not being allowed to move.  Poor guy. My midwives wanted me to push in the tub, and as I would push they would try to manually move the lip of my cervix over her head.  The pain was unbearable, although I was so glad to be pushing.  Pushing meant it was almost over, and I could help get it there.  It was way better than knowing I was in the most pain I’d ever felt and would have to continue to go through it for an unknown amount of time until my body and baby were ready to begin the pushing part of delivery.  There was an end in sight. 

               Eventually I was told to move out of the tub to the birth stool after pushing in the tub didn't do anything. The positioning on the birth stool would allow my pelvis to open more and give them more access to assist as needed. My midwives helped me over to it, and as Mitch stood up his legs gave out from being in one position for so long, and he fell onto one of the midwives and knocked the oxygen and nitrous tank over – although I didn’t know about it until afterwards. I started pushing on the stool, and was told to stop because her hand was by her face and I was about to tear pretty badly but I couldn't stop. My body no longer belonged to me.  I was no longer the pilot.  I felt no fear, just an instinctual urge to push so strong that I couldn’t think of anything other than pushing.  Minutes later she was in my arms. I had returned to my body. In that moment I was more overjoyed at the fact that I was done being in pain than I was to have my baby, but as I was moved to the bed to rest that feeling changed. I had done it.  She was here.  My perfect, squishy, warm baby was here.

               I had lost what I thought was a normal amount of blood during delivery.  Birth is messy, right? It’s normal to bleed enough to need more than one puppy training pad underneath me, right? Wrong. My midwives knew I lost a lot of blood, and since I had agreed to a Pitocin shot if needed after delivery they administered it.  I was still on the birth stool, Mitch was still supporting me from behind, and Sawyer was in my arms at the time of the shot.  Even with all I had been through at that moment I was still afraid of needles.  The fear never left. I drew strength from my baby to keep me calm while they gave me the shot in my left thigh.

               She was 9lbs., 2oz., and 23” tall.  Everyone had guessed she would have been 7 pounds and a few ounces, not only because I was a small baby, but I carried small.  Nobody guessed 9.  We let everyone that had stayed through the night come see her before I got stitched up, because after having her I was done with being in pain – and wanted to put being in any more pain off, so after about an hour of letting them see our baby we had them all step out so I could be stitched. My mom took Sawyer to the next room for us. Before being stitched I had to go pee, SO badly. Mitch and Amy, the midwife, helped me stand up from bed and started to walk with me to the bathroom. A few steps away from the bed I passed out and had a seizure. I felt like I was in a dream while seizing.  I knew I had started to pass out and they mentioned moving me to a chair behind me, but it felt like a dream.  I woke up to Mitch calling my name, with a worried look on his face.  I was put back to bed to rest after I answered a few basic questions to reestablish my level of consciousness. I was told to just wet the bed since I had to urinate, and that there were puppy pads on it, but I knew I couldn’t.  I had too much of a mental block to be able to. We tried to get me to the bathroom again a few minutes later and that time I didn't even get to the foot of the bed before passing out and seizing for the second time. I woke on lying sideways on the foot of the bed. It was then that we decided to call an ambulance to transport me to the hospital. I was delusional as the EMT’s carried me from the upstairs bedroom to the gurney waiting by the front door. I remember wanting them to know that I was also an EMT and had been carried in the sheet-like thing they used to carry me in, before – but I wanted them to know it wasn’t because I was accident prone or lonely and one of those people that calls 911 regularly, it was because I was one of them.  That’s how I know I was delusional.

               Mitch rode in the front of the ambulance and my mom drove my car with Sawyer.  They were the only two people that weren’t midwives left at the birth center – everyone else had gone home to get some rest after the 16 hour labor. Upon arrival at the hospital I had a glimpse of Brandy, Charlie, and Ryan running to catch up to the gurney - they had gone to breakfast when I had to be stitched up. Once in the labor and delivery room I only have flashes of memory. Sawyer was with my mom and Mitch’s family being evaluated in the NICU, though I just knew at the time that she was with my mom.  Later I found out that when the hospital had gotten a call about me coming in after just having my baby they had assumed that the baby would also need emergency care.  They were shocked at how big, pink, and healthy she was.  They put the newborn crash cart away.

               The doctors and nurses working on me wanted to give me fentanyl in my IV for the pain.  I refused and they asked why.    They seemed upset when I told them that fentanyl is what caused my dad to pass away almost nine years prior and asked how we could know.  Well, we won a lawsuit against Johnson and Johnson because of it, that’s how we know.  Later I found out the hospital staff was bad mouthing me and ridiculing my refusal to receive fentanyl out in the hallway – Mitch’s mom confronted them when she overheard and they shut right up.

               There were doctors and nurses grabbing my arms and legs for IV's and to check my bleeding and blood pressure and whatnot as I was screaming and crying. My body was not my own at this point. I have never felt more violated than when I had a nurse re-doing the IV that the EMT’s had placed in my right arm, another nurse was checking my blood pressure on the left arm, with a nurse right beside her to insert another IV as soon as she was done, in addition to the nurses and doctors spreading my legs and peering between them.  There was one female doctor, the male resident doctor, and a male student between my legs.  Mitch later described the scene as something he’d imagine would be in a torture porn video.  I was given morphine and Pitocin via my IV.  I was asking where Sawyer was and if she was okay, she was with family and doing well. My mom and Mitch took turns being with me, updating everyone, and being with Sawyer. I was asked by a nurse if I had a living will, and if I had any paperwork about a living will or DNR. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was a sign of how badly things were looking for me.  Mitch had picked up on it, but didn’t voice his concerns.  I was still able to answer and felt that it was standard practice to ask those things.  It wasn’t.  My blood pressure was about 70/40 – the lowest it had ever been. I was given an ultrasound to see if I had any clots or tissue left in my uterus, and I did.  They inserted the catheter, which was the least painful thing that I had been through in the past 24 hours.  Within minutes the bag full of my urine needed to be emptied and it needed to be emptied again within an hour.  I was amazed that I couldn’t feel myself peeing, and the nurse that emptied the first bag was amazed that I was able to hold so much urine.  The fact that I couldn’t just wet myself was the reason I landed in the hospital in the first place and the bumpy ambulance ride did nothing to help me pass the mental block and relieve myself.  The catheter had helped.

               Because of the clots still left inside of me I was given uterus massages every few minutes over the next two hours to push out the clots in my uterus. The pain was almost as bad as labor contractions, but I was so overwhelmed by everyone’s poking and prodding that I screamed and fought them.  I was screaming and crying the whole time. After a bit I was given Dilaudid and Ativan which helped with the anxiety I was feeling as the morphine wasn’t doing anything. I was defeated. I had no fight left in me. It took 45 minutes for the OB/GYN, resident Doctor, and student to stitch me up. I had a third degree tear. The OB/GYN had inspected me vaginally and rectally to make sure they didn’t miss anything and referred to my anus as “beefy” which made Mitch and I laugh for the first time that day. 

               After being stitched up there was one point where I told Mitch I needed my baby, so he left me alone to go get her. Five minutes had passed and he still hadn't returned with her. I called his cell phone, he didn't answer. I started to panic so I called my mom's cell phone, she didn't answer either. All I could think was that something had happened to Sawyer. I started having a breakdown when Mitch walked in. The nurses didn't want to let her in the room with me because she wasn't a patient. My mom fought them on it until she was in my arms. Eventually, after much negotiation, I was moved up to a Labor and Delivery recovery room. I told the doctors that I wouldn't stay if my baby couldn't stay with me, but their condition was that since she wasn't a patient I couldn't utilize the nurses or nursery for her and there had to be an adult over the age of 18 that wasn’t a patient (meaning me) with her around the clock.

               This made the evening difficult but we managed.  The whole night I had a nurse come in every two hours to reassess me. I was so glad that I hadn’t delivered Sawyer in the hospital – I couldn’t have handled all of the restrictions for longer than I had to.  My midwives treated me as if I were a person, and not just me, either.  They would talk directly to Mitch during appointments and ask if he had questions or concerns.  The hospital staff never did those things.  The nurses that were assigned to me throughout my overnight stay were pleasant, but still had their jobs to do and couldn’t give me a more personalized experience like my midwives had. 

               Even with how traumatic the experience was, I would do it all over again for my baby.  I had pushed myself further than I ever had before, and was able to see the true power of my body.  I had birthed my baby.