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Samara's Birth Story (extremely longgggg)
Ok, so I've started to write Samara's birth story a few times and stopped because it still felt 'too big' for my mind to process into a written piece. However, it's been just over 5 weeks and I just wanna get it out there lol.
Feb 14th, the due date, came and went. Josh, eager to begin his 3 week leave at work, sighed and resigned himself to going back to work the next day, a Monday. I joked and told him that he would walk in the door the next morning, sit down at his desk, turn on his computer and then he would get a call from me telling him to turn back around and come home.
He didn't even make it to his desk that Monday morning, he stopped to say hi to a workmate and that's when he got my call. I had 'barely there' cramps and, when I had risen from my bed around 8am on Feb 15th, a few trickles ran down my inner thighs. I knew it wasn't discharge or pee as my inner thighs felt 'slick' with whatever was trickling down. I ordered him to come home and be bearing a big mochacinno for me.
Not long after Josh arrived home, my mother arrived and, after a lonnnng tearful hug (on my part) with Maya, they put her in the car and headed to my sister's where she was gonna stay for awhile until my youngest sister, K, finished work and came to pick her up.
We enjoyed our day together, watched dvd's and ate fish and chips, timed my contractions etc. It was going exactly how it went with my labour with Maya. I felt excited and good about it all. I had another mountain to tackle and, man, I couldn't WAIT to see the view from this one once I reached the summit!
At around 5pm, Josh decided he wanted to call the hospital to give them the heads up that my water had 'trickled' that morning and that labour had started. Hugging the exercise ball, I asked him why he was calling them to tell them about trickles...but then I shrugged and thought "Ahhh why not. We have to tell them labour has started at least.."
"Honey, the midwife wants you to come in because, if your water has broken, they want to record it and assess everything etc..." he told me. I shrugged and we got into the car, totally expecting to be checked over and sent back home to labour some more until everything started picking up. My contrax weren't regular or long in duration at this point.
Waiting in the emergency room for a midwife to come and assess me, I paced the floor and felt my contrax picking up in intensity and regularity. As much as I wanted to sit down I knew that walking around is what gets my labour and dilation going so I paced. The midwife finally came, I was led to a bed and hooked up to a heart monitor for them to assess it for half and hour to see how bubs was going.
They didn't like how bubs was going, her heart rate was 'a concern'. An ob and her assistant came in and told me that they 'wanted to start me on hormones to get the labour moving, that my labour had stalled and that the baby had to be delivered sooner rather than later...."
No *** my labour had stalled. I was feeling threatened now. And I was lying on my back. Not. Condusive. To. Labour. At. All. I wanted to go back home, to be allowed to walk around and feel calm and happy. My labour HAD been coming along nicely right before I started to sense pressure of intervention.
"I don't want hormones because it'll ramp up the pain quota from a 3 to a 9 or a 10 and my body will never be able to catch up matching it with endorphins and then I will start singing for the epidural and then it opens the door for other interventions" I told the ob in one long run-on sentence.
"I need to walk, THAT'S the magic wand to getting this labour rolling again." I told her. She had this look on her face that said "We know we'll get you to agree, silly little girl" and she turned up the pressure again, telling me they wanted to start me on hormones right away.
After a bit of back and forth, I asked her for some time to think and, with a sh1tty look on her face that told me she wasn't used to being told no by a labouring woman, she left the room. I was wheeled upstairs into a l&d room and they approached me again to try and get me to agree to the hormones, dropping in a "We need to get this baby delivered now" for good measure.
My eyes darted around the room and I felt like a trapped animal. I was hooked up to fluids to keep me hydrated and the needle in my hand hurt. Josh started to talk to me about considering it, that it was 'the least intrusive' intervention...at least they had offered me that....".
And there went my staunchest advocate.
With that, I felt like I was fighting a losing battle.
I KNEW, I KNEW my baby was ok. I FELT it. There was NOTHING different about this labour from the labour with Maya.
All I wanted was to be unhooked from the drip, left to labour with my husband, mum and sister and a midwife. Left to walk around or get in any position I wanted. Have the option of hopping into that big bath in the adjoining bathroom. Have the lights dimmed as I did what I needed to do to birth this baby. My instinct was SO strong during my labour with Maya and it was AS strong with this one. I knew that my baby was ok and I knew what to do with my body in order to bring this baby out.I'd nurtured and held this baby inside of me for 9 mths...
But the docs told me I was wrong. That they knew my body and baby better, the monitor told them so. And they grumpily told me they would be back and left to attend to the 14 other labouring women.
It's a badddddd thing to give a labouring woman a "what if". You'd be hard pressed to find a more vulnerable person than a woman in labour. Throw a 'what if' at her and it will echo loudly around her mind from then until the baby is born. As strong as my instinct was, as much as I knew about the processes/ unneccessay intervention hospital rates, as stubborn and determined as I was to have an intervention-free birth....that 'what-if' got to me.
It scared me.It made me doubt myself.
My mood went from positive, excited, empowered, peaceful to trapped, scared, frustrated. My body started fizzing out and rebelling. My mind, emotions and body stopped working together and started going in every which direction. I felt like I was losing control and focus on the situation and this was going to bring things undone. I remember that this focus helped out my labour with Maya brilliantly and how important it was to maintain it right throughout or things could spiral down. I started crying.
The staff that night were outnumbered by the labouring women and I was mostly forgotten by the obs as they attended to the other women. A midwife, this tiny Chinese woman named Bee ("Like the bee buzz buzz!" she told us) came in every once in a while and, every time I asked to be able to get up and walk etc...she would want me back in the bed on my back as "the heart monitor works better there. It falls off when you walk/stand up".
I looked up at the clock. Midnight. Wow, where did 5pm go...? I jinxed myself because then time started going slowwwwwwww.
I started getting tired. The pain started getting worse. Oh man, who let the pitbull into my cervix?
20 years later, an ob came in around 2am. She checked my dilation. 5cms. Damn. She smiled and told me she'd be back again at 6am.
SIX. AM?! If I was still labouring in 4 hours, shoot me! I was at my wits end, I. Was. So. Effing. Tired. and the pain was kicking my effing A$$! My sister saw my stricken face and came to my side, stroking my hair and telling me "Hon, you'll maybe have this bub in an hour from now for all we know...doesn't necessarily mean you're gonna labour until 6am...don't worry...."
I kept asking Bee if bub's heartrate was ok. It was, she assured me. So much for the first doctor's "WE must deliver the baby NOW".
I fell more and more into the abyss of exhaustion and the most primal pain I'd ever experienced. This was worse than Maya's birth, being kept on my back was brutal. I was doing it their way instead of my way and I felt anger. anger at them, anger at not being in a position to be stronger and tell them I was going to do it my way...
I kept hearing women in the final stages of pushing, down the hall, and I was envious of them. This labour seemed to stretch ahead of me like a dry, hot endless road in the desert. I felt like I was gonna be caught inside of it forever.
With each contraction, I felt water seep out under my butt. They had told me the baby's head was blocking the water from gushing out normally...that his/her head was acting like a plug.
I managed to get my way at a couple of points and stood up and remember looking down at the water pooling slowly at my feet and seeing meconium. I mentioned this to the midwife and she wasn't worried "It happens a lot. The baby DOES poop whilst he/she is inside the mother during the pregnancy. This could be poop from before labour."
Then I was made to get back on the bed. The clock was smack bang right on the wall in front of me and I kept trying to avoid looking at it, because everytime I checked it, time had only crept forward a few minutes.
My lower back and top of my butt were on fire from being in the same spot all night. I had to prop myself awkwardly off my butt and back to bring relief from the burning. This did not make for fun times when a contraction hit. "Excuse me pit bull, can you quit ripping holes in my womb while the hot poker is playing tic-tac-toe with my back?"
The pain got worse. I got more tired. I started to zone out in between contractions. I cried as my sister stroked my hair and told her between sobs how happy I was that she was there. That SHE was there. I started throwing out "F*ck" and other choice swear words but, because I had a toddler at home, I was in the habit of spelling swear words out. So...I spelled out F*CK! a few times.
"It's OK! You can swear. SWEAR woman! Sing it sister!" my sister exclaimed.
At one point, Josh and my mum said my eyes started rolling into the back of my head. They said, once they saw the white of my eyes, they started really getting worried as, they knew my pain tolerance was freakishly high and if my eyes were rolling into the back of my skull, then the pain was gettin out of control. I finally threw up (I always throw up when I'm in full on pain).
Somehow, 6am came. I muttered about the doc coming back in to check me for dilation and she was fetched. She checked.
Still.
5.
cms.
?!?!?!
I started to hear the sound of spirit breaking. Mine. This was getting the best of me, I had been running on empty and crazy-something and I had even run out of THOSE things a long time ago.
She started talking again (different OB this time) about the hormones. That I had no choice. They wanted to amp up the pain and make it last longer each time. I was falling into a cave. I was already in a world of pain, how the hell was I going to cope with it being MORE painful?
She asked me if I wanted the gas, or pethadine, or an epi so that I could cope with the extra pain. I told her no. I had been through so much at this point that, in my mind, I wasn't going to cave in now. I felt that, if I did...all that I had pushed through would be for nothing. That's just how I felt at that point in time.
As they hooked up the hormones, I got angry and told them if they wanted their way, I wanted my way and I was going to stand up and god help anyone that tried to stop me. "I know what is going to do it. LET ME STAND UP AND WALK". With Josh's help, I stood up about 20 seconds after they started the hormones. The contractions ramped up to a 1000. It was all I could do to stop my knees buckling as I clung onto him.
I just remember at one point gritting my teeth and giving myself one last pep talk, telling myself in my mind "F%^! this...you can DO this! Hit that ball outta the park!" and using the anger I felt to keep me going.
The midwife worriedly ushered me into the bed again (heart monitor stopped slipped again, oh noes). Then, literally minutes since they'd started the hormones, my body gave an almighty heave.
The midwife looked at me in surprise "No, No....don't push" she exclaimed....as if I had a say in the matter.
Another earthquake stormed through my entire body as the midwife uttered a few more "Don't pushes". However, trying to stop my body from pushing was like trying to push back a giant 40 metre wave with a surfboard. That sucker is gonna wash over you and take you with it...
Still surprised, the midwife checked me again and said "Oh my god, you went from 5cms to 10cms in like 5 minutes! WOW!" She checked the bag of hormones and said that it hadn't even gotten past 1 mil yet and that standing up probably did the trick more than the hormones had, since they hadn't had much of a chance to get in and do their work.
Everyone crowded around my head as the midwife stood at the business end. Telling me to "breathhhhe" in an attempt to get me to control the 'non pushing'. Again, when the pushes take over your body like this, it is damn near impossible to NOT push. It is the strongest force you will probably feel plough through your body in your life. At least, for me it was. With BOTH births.
"What's the hold up, why can't I push?" I asked.
"Ok, you can push" she replied. She asked Josh if he wanted to 'glove up" (he had asked her earlier if he could catch the bub) and they got into position. Gratefully, I gave in to the pushes.
My mum stood there running ice along my lips (they were so freakin dry) and I started to feel that familiar 'ring of fire' as I pushed and pushed.
"I want you to imagine you are pushing barrel up hill. Sometimes, you get tired, have rest, barrel falls back a littttttle bit. Then you keep pushing it up....up....up....rest....then pussshhhhhhh. Ok? Yes?" Bee told me and somewhere inside I chuckled and was amused by the analogy. I was sure I would chuckle for real at it later.
It DID help though...I mean...pushing a baby whilst laying on your back IS like sh1tting uphill. My baby became a barrel.
My throat just opened up and the most loud and primal noise emitted from it and I didn't care whether they heard me in New Zealand. It helped me push, in some strange way.
The head started pushing through, razor blades crowning that ring of fire...only way through it was to push with everything I had....then....the baby's head was through.....then the body slipped out and with it a big gush of water went SPLAT allllll over Bee. Almost as if the placenta was standing behind the baby holding a big bucket of water and chucked it at Bee, as a joke. She jumped back as it drenched her. I felt like handing her that surfboard 
.....
The relief that accompanies that baby slipping out of onself is immense. Oh. My. God....it was finally over. "I did it. I did it. I did it" kept rolling over my mind. In my relief I forgot to check what the baby was as (she) was placed on my chest. Josh finally went to peek between bubs legs and said "GIRL!" Oh wait...hang on..."
I looked also and, because the labia were so swollen, I thought I was looking at a penis (one side of the labia was all I could see) LOL! Josh lifted the leg and we both saw that bub was a girl.
"Helloooooo. Hiiiiii. Oh hiiiiii sweetheart" was all I could say, over and over as she squinted at me through swollen, vernix coated eyelids.
Bee stood in the front of the bed laughing, telling me it was lucky she was about to finish her shift because she was so soaked.
And there she was, at just after 7am on the 16th Feb 2010. The second girl to steal my heart forever.
This one, when I look into her eyes now, is an old soul. She's been here before. Maybe been around a few times.She is just so....quiet....and calm... and there's just something about those eyes that I've never seen in anyone elses eyes. To say there's wisdom there seems cliche but...maybe that's what it is.
Not only that, but...whenever she quietly appraises me, usually when we are looking at each other in my darkened bedroom....she looks at me in such a way that says "I know you. I've known you before now...". It's the strangest but most peaceful sense, feeling.
Re: Samara's Birth Story (extremely longgggg)
Amazing story!! Thank you so much for sharing. It sounds like it basically turned out without much intervention, but not exactly how you planned. Again, in the end, it's all the same when you have your precious, healthy baby in your arms!
You're a tropper I tell ya! Congrats!
oh man! That is quite a birth story!! Awesome job on your part...I hope I am as strong as you ladies when the time comes!
Thanks for sharing & that is really beautiful how you describe your new baby.
Wow! What a birth story! You are certainly a strong woman and you did incredibly well for all that you endured during your labour & delivery!
Absolutely adore how you depict your beautiful little new old soul Samara.
Hugs to you and Josh and your dearest girls
you are such a great writer, even during the horrible parts I was absolutely entranced.
You are so strong - I was nodding along with some of what you said about the horrible treatment, but my experience with one bad nurse was nothing like yours. I am so sorry you had to go through that, there is no reason for it. I wonder (like with my bad nurse) if they are mean spirited by nature?
Our bodies are amazing things, as threatened as you were you were able to work with the baby and dilate so quickly. The same thing happened to me - when the mean nurse started mentioning an internal monitor and more care providers than I care to remember rushed in it was almost like me and the baby we know now as Jack knew that we were threatened and just needed to get it done - until then I was almost enjoying labor but knew we needed to hurry up. I was ready to push and they didn't believe me b/c of my slow progress up to that point.
Again thanks for sharing, and I hope you are processing the birth ok
Wow, you should totally be a writer (if you're not already...)! I felt like I was reading a really good book!
I'm sorry they were pushing the interventions on you when you clearly didn't want them. I'm glad you were able to stand up and get things moving along, and in the end delivered how you wanted!
Congrats and thanks for sharing!
Wow Tina...amazingly powerful story. I am so sorry your sweet Samara's birth was more "medicalized" than necessary. Damn those protocols. I am sure you could have done it on your own had they let you move and walk. Pisses me off. Good for you for avoiding the epi by insisting on moving with the Pit drip (although it sounds like it was all for nothing anyway...the Pit, I mean)...did they turn it off right away?
I hope you'll post this story on one of the Birth Story web sites...you have a gift with the written word and capturing the emotion of it all. Blessings to you and your sweet Samara.
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What a wonderfully told birth story! I laughed a few times while reading it and I teared up at the end. You are amazing and your daughters are so lucky to have such a strong advocate (you, duh) on their team!
PS I like Bee
This paragraph gave me chills. How wonderful. Thank you for sharing this with us!
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Awww hon, it has nothing to do with being 'stronger'...like I said, a woman in labour is vulnerable (that is why it is so vital that you trust the people around you.) When you're in the position of being told an intervention needs to happen, it's SO hard to know if you DO genuinely need it or not and that's where the 'what ifs' arrive and that's where most women decide to err on the side of caution. I was blessed in that I had been through natural labour before and I knew what my body/instinct etc felt like in an uncomplicated labour.
It's also something I read up a LOT on (how the cascade of interventions happen in hospitals, where the docs try and 'fix' the previous interventions bad side effects etc with another intervention and so on).
Having said that, knowing what I know...it was still hard and it was still scary deciding to tell them 'no' and going with my instincts. I kept thinking "What if I'm wrong...what if my baby really is in danger...".
Hence, if there's a 3rd baby...the hospital is not the place for me. I'll find a birth centre somewhere (the one I was in with Maya has been closed down by that hospital).Thanks Lori
Actually thank you to everyone for the wonderful words
I'm pretty sure they turned off the hormones as soon as I started pushing...although I could be wrong. I know that Bee exclaimed at the time that it was only down by a mil and that she'd never seen it work that fast before (they turned it on, I immediately stood up for 5 minutes, Bee made me get back on the bed and whammo...dilated from 5cm to 10).
Also, I don't want to scare anyone off having an unmedicated birth either. When I had Maya, it was in the birth centre, like I mentioned before and it was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life.
Of course it was painful, not gonna say it was an internal Swedish massage or anything but...the lights were dimmed, music was playing, I was surrounded by people I trusted and a midwife who supported anything I wanted/needed to do. I wasn't hooked up to anything and I birthed Maya whilst laying forward on a beanbag on top of the bed. My body amazed me with how it took over and birthed Maya....I felt like a bystander watching on in amazement lol, as it did it's thing to bring my baby out to me.
So, two labours without pain relief, yes but two very different experiences and the differences (feeling threatened and scared and untrusting of the people handling me as opposed to being in a calm, home-like environment surrounded by people I trust) were interesting in how my body reacted.
Also, being on my back the whole labour, with Samara, stalled dilation and made the labour longer and more painful for me than it most likely would have been had I been allowed to walk and move around naturally. Bee also told me she wanted me to push while on my back too, because she felt it was too awkward if I was on my knees or any other position...blah. Ah well, Samara came out healthy and I did and that's the important thing. Am I disappointed that I didn't get another calm and wonderful labour like I did with Maya...yeah...but the baby that came out was just as beautiful as Maya.
Haha I know! I'm a bit backwards too in that I sometimes say the actual swear word at home, in front of Maya and then I go "Oooops, I meant S. H. I. T!" as if that undoes what I just said.