Owen's Birthday (Birth Story Part III)

Part I
Part II

We arrived at the hospital and checked in around 7pm. We called my dad and Jeremy’s parents to let them know there would be a baby soon and everyone jumped in the car and headed to Dayton. The nurse we were assigned to was the same nurse who had taken care of us when I was in the labor triage the day after Christmas. She started my IV and brought me a birthing ball. I was still only having mild back pain. Jeremy and I walked several laps around the unit, but I was very weak from bed rest and it was doing nothing to stimulate labor. At 9pm the nurse called our doctor and he ordered Pitocin. I was admittedly upset at this point. I had heard rumors about how awful Pitocin contractions can be and I wasn’t ready to let go of my unmedicated birthplan. Jeremy said he would coach me through the contractions and we would do our best to stick with the plan. The Pitocin was administered in 2 unit increments every 45 minutes. Up until about 4 units the mild back labor continued, then at 6 the cramping in my back began to worsen and the contractions became closer.

We tried to keep an upbeat mood in the room. Jeremy and my mom took turns rubbing my arms and back. We listened to our birthing playlist on the computer and watched the winter Olympics. Between midnight and 1am my back labor worsened with each Pitocin increase. It felt like a brick was being slammed into my tailbone at full force. There were strict instructions from my doctor not to give me internal exams. He didn’t want to risk infection, especially if I wasn’t contracting in the front. Baby was doing great on the monitor and I was still hanging in there. Each time the nurse came in to press on my stomach to check for contractions she would say, “Come on, I really need to start to feel these up front so you can move that baby down.” All of this pain and I felt helpless, like I was doing nothing to progress my labor. Jeremy’s parents arrive around midnight, relieved that they had not missed the birth. All I could say to my mother-in-law (who just happens to be a Presbyterian minister) was, “Oh my god, my butthole hurts!!” Thankfully, she laughed.

By 2am I was in intense pain. The back labor was coming every 30 second and knocking me off my feet. I was hanging on to the back side of the bed hunched over gritting my teeth through what could only be described as my butthole being slammed full force with a jackhammer. At one point I remember everyone was hovered around the bed urging me to let the nurse put a sedative in my IV “to take the edge off” – this wasn’t what I wanted  - I wanted to be “present” the moment my son was born and I was not going to risk having that taken away. I felt like I was failing - the last thing I wanted was a c-section and I knew if I opted for an epidural before I was at 5cm there was a chance it would slow my labor. My pitocin was at 10 units and I was completely overwhelmed. I was losing sight of my plan and I felt like people were putting so much pressure on me. I broke down sobbing. Jeremy asked everyone to leave the room and he helped me use the restroom. In the bathroom we made a plan that a nurse would check to see if I had made any progress and then we would decide about the epidural. I told Jeremy I was ready for one, that I was too tired and weak and if it kept up like this I wouldn’t have enough energy to push. He told me we were going to stick to our plan and called in our nurse. As my birth coach it was his job to keep me focused on what I wanted, no matter how much I tried to stray from the plan (good thing he read those books at the last minute, right?) When the nurse lifted my gown to check me she was immediately surprised, “His head is right here and you are 6cm!” I was ecstatic. Back labor does move a baby! I requested the epidural. Jeremy encouraged me that I had done so well and he knew I could go the rest of the way unmedicated if I wanted to stick to the birth plan. But I didn’t and I was thinking soundly enough to let go. I was hoping that an epidural could give me some rest before I needed to push. The epidural was administered at 2:30am. It stung quite a bit and was hard to work in amongst the relentless contractions but it did take the edge off of the pain. I could feel my legs – but I still felt constant pressure on my tailbone. A nap was not in the cards for me. I quickly transitioned and by 430am I had just a tiny lip of cervix left.  I had intense pressure in my bottom and felt like pushing. The nurse told me to hold off and she called our doctor in from home. She decided to go ahead and check me and sure enough, we were ready to push.

Our nurses asked if we wanted everyone to leave the room. At one point in our planning process Jeremy and I had talked about it just being he and I in the room when the baby was born. But when it came time, it didn’t matter. This was such an anticipated boy and we wanted everyone to be there to welcome him.  When the doctor arrived he noticed that the baby was transverse (had moved a bit from posterior position, which was causing the back labor). I had to lie on my side for 20 minutes trying to coax him into turning righside up. I was checked again at 5am, turning him was successful and we were ready to push. They turned down my epidural so that I could feel each contraction. Jeremy was so supportive, he held my leg and the back of my head while telling me what a wonderful job I was doing. My mom held my other leg and encouraged me just the same. With each push I thought to myself that I needed to work as hard as I could with each contraction. I wanted to be strong and efficient. There was lots of joking and sassing in the brief pauses between contractions. Dr. K was kicked back with his legs crossed but realized that I was moving the baby very quickly and he readied his gown. With about three pushes left my dad and brother rushed into the room and took their respective spots in the corner of the room by my head. I remember hearing that my baby had lots of hair – PUSH – lots of hair – PUSH – head out - PUSH - shoulders out – LOOOOONG PUSH. And then nothing. I heard nothing. I felt like I was waiting and waiting to hear cries and nothing. I started to panic and asked why he wasn’t crying. Everyone assured me that he was, in fact my strong boy shouted out even before the umbilical chord was cut but I couldn't hear or see him. What was probably thirty seconds felt like an eternity before my slippery, crying boy was placed on my bare chest. I sobbed what Jeremy describes as the most exhausted, joyful cry he has every heard in his life.

My son was born at 5:32am at 37 weeks and 5 days, after 32 minutes of pushing. He entered the world surrounded by his parents, uncle and grandparents. He was born into a room filled with joy and tears. After carefully admiring our miracle, Jeremy introduced our precious son – Owen David to the room of loving guests. It was the first time we had ever spoken his name out loud. He stayed on my chest under warm blankets for what seemed like hours while each person took their turn coming over to meet him. Nurses checked his APGAR 8 and 9 and did some measurements with me still holding him tight. He smelled of tears and musky clay and in those moments of holding this new life skin-to-skin nothing else mattered. Not bed rest, not epidurals, not the stinging of the needle being used to sew me back together - I had met my hearts utmost desire. The only thing that mattered was the little miracle that had just made us a family. The feeling of having him laid upon my chest at the breaking point of physical and mental exhaustion was the most exhilarating high I have ever known. I wish I could bottle it up and use it to save the world from every possible injustice. I want to have a million more babies just to ride that instant wave of love and venerability again and again. Everything I fought and prayed for was a reality. I’ve never loved my husband more than I did that day and to see him become a father, the tears of joy and amazement welling in his eyes, made my already bursting heart swell even bigger. The moment that I became a mother was the most beautiful experience of my entire life and I am forever indebted to this tiny soul. My beautiful boy.

Special thanks to our wedding photographer, Sandra Reed, who climbed out of bed at 3am with a sinus infection to document Owen's birth for us. I'm happy to call her my friend.