My Birth Story
I must have read at least fifty different tales of women giving birth by the time I was 39 weeks pregnant, and that was the best thing I could have done to prepare myself. Here’s my own…it’s long, but I wanted to remember every detail:
It was Wednesday, November 16th, when Shannon drove down to Newport to hang out with me for the day. She was visiting for just four days with the ultimate goal of meeting our little girl before heading back home to Utah. My doctor had scheduled an induction on Friday morning if I hadn’t gone into labor on my own yet, so I was hopeful that the baby would be here by Friday evening at the latest and Shannon would be able to come see us at the hospital before she left early Saturday morning. Being stuck in bed going through labor was exactly what I didn’t want, but would be unavoidable if I was induced, so I was determined to do whatever it took to go into labor on my own before Friday.
It was a gorgeous afternoon and especially warm for November. Shannon arrived and we decided to take a walk to Starbucks. Miraculously my back, which had given up on trying to support me in the last weeks of my pregnancy, had seemed to heal itself over the past couple days and I was feeling good. Waddling a couple miles for an eggnog late and piece of banana bread was a pretty big accomplishment, nonetheless. Shannon and I had such a great day together. We talked a lot about the baby, our families, our career paths, and the million random topics that spark up when you’re catching up with your best friend. The moment we got back to my house I ran up to the bathroom. I would have never imagined discovering what something as disgusting as a mucus plug was could bring such joy. Shannon left about 6:30, which is when I started timing my contractions just to see if there was any regularity. They were inconsistent and still far from uncomfortable, yet I couldn’t help but feel excitement.
Chris and I decided to go to the Red Parrot. We had been using the excuse that “tonight could be our last night eating out just the two of us” the past ten times we’d been out to eat. But since I was at least two centimeters dilated at Monday’s doctor’s appointment, had gone for a long walk earlier in the day and my contractions seemed to be coming every eight minutes or so now, I had a feeling tonight really would be our last night out before we’d be a family of three. I could barely squeeze myself into the table they sat us at. Chris and I discussed names one last time and were both feeling giddy as my contractions continued through dinner. Chris practiced his breathing every time he took a break from biting into his hamburger. I had a cup of French onion soup, hopeful a light meal like that wouldn’t show itself again later that night or next day (I planned on having a very clean delivery and baby). We got home, after being pulled over for Chris’ tail lights being out (thinking back, we missed a good opportunity to freak a police officer out), and I went to bed shortly after, knowing I would need to rest while I could. It was about midnight when Chris climbed into bed with me, not even noticing I was awake in the dark room. I was not confident I was going to be able to sleep through the contractions at that point, though they were still approximately 7-8 minutes apart. Every third or fourth time I wouldn’t feel anything, so I was still questioning whether it was true labor. I sat up over a stack of pillows and practiced breathing while Chris slept next to me. At about 2:00 am, I moved to the rocking chair in the nursery, imagining the tiny person who was going to be moving in and tried to comfort myself, when my contractions suddenly started coming every five minutes. I woke Chris up and he called our midwife, who told us she’d inform the hospital we were coming, and meet us there. I called my Mom, who I had asked to be in the delivery room with us. Since I don’t recall hearing the phone even ring before she said "hello," I imagine she had it gripped and already at her ear, waiting for my call. I remember feeling foolish that I had to take a break in the middle of our conversation so I could breathe through one of my contractions.
It felt as though we got to the hospital in a flash, but the nurses asked us what took us so long when we arrived. Apparently, an hour had passed since Kathy had called to let them know we were coming. The hospital is only a mile or so from our house, but I had to stop every five minutes or so, making my way to and from the car and hang on to something while I breathed through the pain. The car ride was no picnic either and I couldn’t wait to get out. The first nurse who checked me was new. She said I was about 6-7 centimeters dilated and a second nurse came in looking doubtful about her estimation and wanted to check me herself to confirm. My ability to smile while in pain might have thrown her off too. With a look of surprise, the second nurse confirmed it and began hooking me up to the monitors to check baby’s and my heart rate.
I was asked to fill out paperwork and answer ridiculous questions like "what was my birthday" while I had all I could do to keep from vomiting. My Mom arrived just forty-five minutes after we did, so I knew she had called someone to drive her speedily to Newport. I was so thankful that she was finally there and tried my best to throw a smile on to greet her driver Ralph as I walked ten-minutes to my room five feet down the hallway.
The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before and all I could do was work on relaxing in between each one. I remember being thankful that there was at least two minutes in between, which was enough for me to recuperate before the next one started. My Mom and Chris were put on contraction duty, informing me the second after each contraction would peak on the monitor, so I would know that relief was soon to come. The nurses were busy trying to hook up the birthing tub, which provided us with some welcomed entertainment. Forty-five minutes had passed by the time they had everything set up and one nurse was soaked from one of the hoses not being on correctly. I could not wait to get myself into the warm water of the whirlpool, which proved to take the edge off at the height of my contractions. By then I was already at nine centimeters. I wasn’t under the jets for too long before I felt just a slight urge to push and the nurses escorted me to the actual birthing tub.
My mom and Chris situated themselves on either side of the tub to hold my legs up. Once the first contraction hit, I tried so hard to push. Kathy had initially made it known that she had to leave at 9 am for her daughter’s awards banquet in Providence and I was doing what I could to deliver before then. I had read so many stories about the pushing stage being such a relief, but to get that relief I needed to get myself over a hump of incredible pain. Once the relief came, I grunted as her head made its way towards the outside world. Kathy encouraged me to keep pushing, sometimes three times during a contraction and I felt like I was just not giving enough. I could barely tell when my contractions would start (I’m not sure if that was from the warm water or my body’s own pain relieving ability) and was taking every opportunity I could to rest. I could hear my Mom’s grunting as she pushed with me each time. Each push took every ounce of energy I had and when Kathy told me she could see her head and with one more push my baby would be out, I found the extra energy I didn’t know still existed within me. I grabbed onto the back of my legs, tucked my chin to my chest and pushed as hard as I could. Her head was out and Kathy told me to stop as she unwrapped the umbilical cord from around my baby’s neck. The next few moments I didn’t recall until Chris and my Mom told me about them later. I was so exhausted I could barely muster up the energy to listen to the words coming out of Kathy’s mouth as she told me to grab hold of her head and deliver my baby. My eyes were open but I felt as though I was in another world, in a dream like state. The sound of each long, exhausted breath was loud and it was as though this was the only one of my senses that was still working until I looked down. My baby girl was out, limbs flailing about in the water as her first moments of life outside the womb began. It was the most incredible sight I have ever seen. She was so alive. With dark hair, eyes wide open and little red lips, she was the most beautiful, most perfect human being I could ever imagine. Her first seconds of life could never be erased from my memory. Chris reached in and rocked her in the water as I laid my head back in the tub, still trying to catch my breath. Our life as a family had begun.
Caroline Elsie Cole was born at 6:15 a.m. She was 7 lbs. 13.6 oz and 19 inches long and so clean. I couldn’t have asked for a better labor. The pain was intense, but it was so quick and it was only the last hour that I questioned whether or not I could find the strength within myself to fight the pain and deliver my baby. It was the most incredible experience I have ever been through and to think that another human being resulted from it is just so unbelievable. The fact that I had ever worried about adapting to motherhood now seems so silly. I fell in love with this tiny person instantaneously, just like everyone told me I would. The attachment I feel towards her is so overwhelming. I would do anything for her to keep her happy and comfortable. I haven’t been able to stop staring at her little face since she arrived. Thinking that she is a part of both Chris and I and a result of us loving each other, it is all such a wonderful miracle. Every time I pick her up and hold her body close to me, all I can feel is love.
It was Wednesday, November 16th, when Shannon drove down to Newport to hang out with me for the day. She was visiting for just four days with the ultimate goal of meeting our little girl before heading back home to Utah. My doctor had scheduled an induction on Friday morning if I hadn’t gone into labor on my own yet, so I was hopeful that the baby would be here by Friday evening at the latest and Shannon would be able to come see us at the hospital before she left early Saturday morning. Being stuck in bed going through labor was exactly what I didn’t want, but would be unavoidable if I was induced, so I was determined to do whatever it took to go into labor on my own before Friday.
It was a gorgeous afternoon and especially warm for November. Shannon arrived and we decided to take a walk to Starbucks. Miraculously my back, which had given up on trying to support me in the last weeks of my pregnancy, had seemed to heal itself over the past couple days and I was feeling good. Waddling a couple miles for an eggnog late and piece of banana bread was a pretty big accomplishment, nonetheless. Shannon and I had such a great day together. We talked a lot about the baby, our families, our career paths, and the million random topics that spark up when you’re catching up with your best friend. The moment we got back to my house I ran up to the bathroom. I would have never imagined discovering what something as disgusting as a mucus plug was could bring such joy. Shannon left about 6:30, which is when I started timing my contractions just to see if there was any regularity. They were inconsistent and still far from uncomfortable, yet I couldn’t help but feel excitement.
Chris and I decided to go to the Red Parrot. We had been using the excuse that “tonight could be our last night eating out just the two of us” the past ten times we’d been out to eat. But since I was at least two centimeters dilated at Monday’s doctor’s appointment, had gone for a long walk earlier in the day and my contractions seemed to be coming every eight minutes or so now, I had a feeling tonight really would be our last night out before we’d be a family of three. I could barely squeeze myself into the table they sat us at. Chris and I discussed names one last time and were both feeling giddy as my contractions continued through dinner. Chris practiced his breathing every time he took a break from biting into his hamburger. I had a cup of French onion soup, hopeful a light meal like that wouldn’t show itself again later that night or next day (I planned on having a very clean delivery and baby). We got home, after being pulled over for Chris’ tail lights being out (thinking back, we missed a good opportunity to freak a police officer out), and I went to bed shortly after, knowing I would need to rest while I could. It was about midnight when Chris climbed into bed with me, not even noticing I was awake in the dark room. I was not confident I was going to be able to sleep through the contractions at that point, though they were still approximately 7-8 minutes apart. Every third or fourth time I wouldn’t feel anything, so I was still questioning whether it was true labor. I sat up over a stack of pillows and practiced breathing while Chris slept next to me. At about 2:00 am, I moved to the rocking chair in the nursery, imagining the tiny person who was going to be moving in and tried to comfort myself, when my contractions suddenly started coming every five minutes. I woke Chris up and he called our midwife, who told us she’d inform the hospital we were coming, and meet us there. I called my Mom, who I had asked to be in the delivery room with us. Since I don’t recall hearing the phone even ring before she said "hello," I imagine she had it gripped and already at her ear, waiting for my call. I remember feeling foolish that I had to take a break in the middle of our conversation so I could breathe through one of my contractions.
It felt as though we got to the hospital in a flash, but the nurses asked us what took us so long when we arrived. Apparently, an hour had passed since Kathy had called to let them know we were coming. The hospital is only a mile or so from our house, but I had to stop every five minutes or so, making my way to and from the car and hang on to something while I breathed through the pain. The car ride was no picnic either and I couldn’t wait to get out. The first nurse who checked me was new. She said I was about 6-7 centimeters dilated and a second nurse came in looking doubtful about her estimation and wanted to check me herself to confirm. My ability to smile while in pain might have thrown her off too. With a look of surprise, the second nurse confirmed it and began hooking me up to the monitors to check baby’s and my heart rate.
I was asked to fill out paperwork and answer ridiculous questions like "what was my birthday" while I had all I could do to keep from vomiting. My Mom arrived just forty-five minutes after we did, so I knew she had called someone to drive her speedily to Newport. I was so thankful that she was finally there and tried my best to throw a smile on to greet her driver Ralph as I walked ten-minutes to my room five feet down the hallway.
The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before and all I could do was work on relaxing in between each one. I remember being thankful that there was at least two minutes in between, which was enough for me to recuperate before the next one started. My Mom and Chris were put on contraction duty, informing me the second after each contraction would peak on the monitor, so I would know that relief was soon to come. The nurses were busy trying to hook up the birthing tub, which provided us with some welcomed entertainment. Forty-five minutes had passed by the time they had everything set up and one nurse was soaked from one of the hoses not being on correctly. I could not wait to get myself into the warm water of the whirlpool, which proved to take the edge off at the height of my contractions. By then I was already at nine centimeters. I wasn’t under the jets for too long before I felt just a slight urge to push and the nurses escorted me to the actual birthing tub.
My mom and Chris situated themselves on either side of the tub to hold my legs up. Once the first contraction hit, I tried so hard to push. Kathy had initially made it known that she had to leave at 9 am for her daughter’s awards banquet in Providence and I was doing what I could to deliver before then. I had read so many stories about the pushing stage being such a relief, but to get that relief I needed to get myself over a hump of incredible pain. Once the relief came, I grunted as her head made its way towards the outside world. Kathy encouraged me to keep pushing, sometimes three times during a contraction and I felt like I was just not giving enough. I could barely tell when my contractions would start (I’m not sure if that was from the warm water or my body’s own pain relieving ability) and was taking every opportunity I could to rest. I could hear my Mom’s grunting as she pushed with me each time. Each push took every ounce of energy I had and when Kathy told me she could see her head and with one more push my baby would be out, I found the extra energy I didn’t know still existed within me. I grabbed onto the back of my legs, tucked my chin to my chest and pushed as hard as I could. Her head was out and Kathy told me to stop as she unwrapped the umbilical cord from around my baby’s neck. The next few moments I didn’t recall until Chris and my Mom told me about them later. I was so exhausted I could barely muster up the energy to listen to the words coming out of Kathy’s mouth as she told me to grab hold of her head and deliver my baby. My eyes were open but I felt as though I was in another world, in a dream like state. The sound of each long, exhausted breath was loud and it was as though this was the only one of my senses that was still working until I looked down. My baby girl was out, limbs flailing about in the water as her first moments of life outside the womb began. It was the most incredible sight I have ever seen. She was so alive. With dark hair, eyes wide open and little red lips, she was the most beautiful, most perfect human being I could ever imagine. Her first seconds of life could never be erased from my memory. Chris reached in and rocked her in the water as I laid my head back in the tub, still trying to catch my breath. Our life as a family had begun.
Caroline Elsie Cole was born at 6:15 a.m. She was 7 lbs. 13.6 oz and 19 inches long and so clean. I couldn’t have asked for a better labor. The pain was intense, but it was so quick and it was only the last hour that I questioned whether or not I could find the strength within myself to fight the pain and deliver my baby. It was the most incredible experience I have ever been through and to think that another human being resulted from it is just so unbelievable. The fact that I had ever worried about adapting to motherhood now seems so silly. I fell in love with this tiny person instantaneously, just like everyone told me I would. The attachment I feel towards her is so overwhelming. I would do anything for her to keep her happy and comfortable. I haven’t been able to stop staring at her little face since she arrived. Thinking that she is a part of both Chris and I and a result of us loving each other, it is all such a wonderful miracle. Every time I pick her up and hold her body close to me, all I can feel is love.
posted by Alissa at 1:23 PM
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