it started around 6am. for the past couple weeks i’ve been living with regular contractions, and already got used to them. but this time it felt different, not the same kind of pain. i got an unexplainable “this is it”-kind of feeling, as well as a mix of happiness and anxiety for the next 24 (48?) hours to come.
it was a quiet morning. i managed to sleep until 9 or so, and made light breakfast (fresh orange juice and yogurt with banana) to have enough energy for the most important day of my life. my husband and i went over the content of the hospital bag one more time to be sure we have everything ready. meanwhile, i was timing contractions with an iphone app, witnessing with excitement how they are getting stronger (this time it’s really happening!), and trying to apply copying techniques i learnt during the birth preparation classes: balance ball, breathing, meditating on images with flowers (coffeetable book about orchids came handy), my husband massaging my lower back, dancing slowly with me in the middle of our loft, both happy and quietly excited. it felt right and not scary at all. around noon i called the hospital to tell them i will be coming soon. it was saturday, and i knew that my favorite midwife Jacqueline will be on her shift. we even joked about it with her during my last appointment – she said she wanted to meet my baby, and that i should do my best to go into labor on saturday. i promised, and so i did. over the phone Jackie asked me how i was doing, and i said i was fine but my contractions were getting closer to 3-1-1 milestone (it’s when the interval between them shortens to 3 minutes apart). Jackie suggested that we started getting ready to go to the hospital.
we were there by 1pm. the taxi driver who brought us there was funny and sweet – i think he was more nervous than i was, worrying that i would deliver in his cab. by 2 pm i was checked in a private birthing room and changed into my pretty light blue robe with white polka dots (a customized hospital outfit i bought in advance to avoid looking like everyone else on the most important day of my life). my husband cozied up the room with all the props we brought with us – meditation music, aromatherapy with the smell of lemongrass (which i will always associate with that day), even the “sleeping sheep” i wanted to have with me for the first night with the baby.
meanwhile the pain from contractions was getting stronger and more intense, i was barely breathing through it when it was attacking me, rejecting help from my husband who was not sure anymore how he could help. rocking on top of the birthing ball, or slowly pacing back and forth in the room, while being attached to the monitor, i was restless. my mind turned into the app that counted contractions, and 3-1-1 started to feel like a 1-1-1 flat line when the pain was almost continuous, and there was no rest in between. i was whimpering when the wave was on its peak, forgetting to breathe and ignoring any reasonable tutoring from my husband. nurses and midwife were checking on me once in a while, but i was feeling the time slowing down, especially after Jackie announced that i only dilated to 3cm out of the desirable 10. i hold it for another hour and gave up my idea of the all natural birth – i called the nurse and asked her for an epidural. the last thing i expected to hear was what she said – that i actually couldn’t have one, because my blood pallets were incredibly low, and they couldn’t even pick up the number on the multiple blood tests they already had ran on me. i felt like the little strength and patience i had was vanishing faster than the waves of pain were rolling over me. i was sinking. it was a desperation – i knew i had an impossible amount of hours ahead until i fully dilate, and i didn’t know how to live through them. the beautiful experience of natural birth suddenly turned into a nightmare i couldn’t wake up from. i think i cried and begged Jackie to do smth, find someone who can take the risk and give me the desired anesthesia. she promised to find a way and left the room to make some phone calls. another 3-4 hours of pain went by like in a fog, when mind simply wandered around and grabbed onto seconds of relief in between the tortures. i always thought i had high tolerance for pain and can endure more than an average person. labor proved me wrong. i learnt i had no idea about pain and i was not prepared for it.
around 7pm Jackie came back with good news – she convinced an anesthesiologist to do epidural for me, but we needed to wait for her arrival as she was driving from somewhere far. at 9pm i finally got injection into my spinal cord, and it felt like magic. it was a painless and instant relief; i still could feel my contractions coming in waves, but they were back to these friendly manageable ones i experienced in the morning. i was hopeful and excited again, and was joking that i would make myself a t-shirt “I heart epidural” upon my checkout form the hospital. i also felt terribly sleepy and begged for a nap. (my husband needed one too as he was exhausted) Jackie agreed that it was a good idea, and we were left to rest until 2am.
at 3am they checked me again, and i was 7cm dilated. yohoo! at 4am i was at 10cm, so they told me to get ready. but Jackie was busy delivering another baby next door, so we we waited for her until 6am. meanwhile, my blood pressure started playing dirty tricks again, making the monitor i was attached beep violently, which brought worrying doctors in. to me they looked like condors circling around a potential victim waiting for it to give up to its weakness to be able to come up with their notorious interventions. (my worst fears) alas, my baby’s heart rate was failing too, and everyone started getting nervous. i heard some words about internal monitoring (it’s when they screw a monitor to the baby’s scalp) and it brought me to tears. at 6:30am i started pushing, with Jackie and my husband holding my legs as if in stirrups. now, that was another intense experience i was not ready for. my body, exhausted and still sleepy, was not understanding what was expected from it. it felt awkward and almost impossible, and also very painful despite epidural. i was trying to think about all my friends who only did 2-3 pushes, and to follow their advice. it was discouraging, i felt helpless and hopeless, a failure – there was no way i could deliver a baby like this. my husband was trying to cheer me up and saying that he already could see the top of baby’s head. i asked him what was the color of his hair. he said it was black, and i knew he was lying. i was not feeling any progress, and i was loosing hope once again and getting desperate. meanwhile, the clock was ticking so loud, and so was my monitor, betraying to the doctors my high blood pressure and baby’s dropping heart rate, reminding me that Jackie’s shift was almost over (at 8am!) and after that everything would go to the dogs (that is, to the doctors). the idea of Jackie leaving me at this stage was unbearably scary. i think this is what really helped. i put myself on a tight deadline without compromises – i need to deliver my baby by 8am, otherwise the doctors will take him out of me, and it would not be good. i didn’t want to rest between the pushes, time became a blur once again, pain was taking over, but i was more stubborn and committed than pain. at 7:48am i did the impossible and felt hot rush of liquid and a tiny body of my son coming out of me, magically, unexplainably, unexpected. and the next moment he was softly crying on top of my chest. i would never forget the feeling of his skin, and the soft, husky sound of his little sweet voice. there are no words to describe that moment, so i will just let it be as is, magical in my memory, always bringing tears to my eyes. it was early morning of the most beautiful mother’s day, and i woke up from a long and peculiar nightmare to the most amazing gift i could have imagined. it was a sunny sunday in the beginning of may. new york was just waking up outside of my window, not knowing yet what a beautiful day it was.
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