Quinn's Birth
After spending the day walking around the county fair, I went to bed pretty tired and sore. I woke up around 2 AM with contractions that were about as painful as severe menstrual cramps. I laid in bed and waited for them to go away. When they didn’t, I pulled out my phone and started timing them. That was at about 3:30. They were about 1 minute long and coming every 5-6 minutes. I was surprised at how regular they were and hoped that they were actually doing something. They definitely felt different from the Braxton-Hicks contractions I’d been having for the entire pregnancy, but they didn’t feel strong enough to actually be getting me much of anywhere.
At around 7, I got up to use the bathroom for the umpteenth time and decided to run a bath to see if that would make the contractions go away. The bath made them worse. Wil (my husband) got up to use the restroom at that point and I informed him that I didn’t think we’d be going to church that morning. We started collecting the last few things for the bags (mine and Aurora’s--our almost 3 yr old daughter) and the contractions started to intensify. Around that point, I felt a bit shaky and sick to my stomach but the feeling quickly passed so I kept going with things.
With the chaos of getting the bags together, getting Aurora up, dressed, fed, and passed off to the childcare and all of that, I was having a really hard time dealing with the contractions. I simply couldn’t focus on anything. The contractions were extremely painful, moaning through them was no relief, and I couldn’t get myself to relax with any cue. Around that point, I decided I was done and didn’t want to do this today. Couldn’t the baby stop and try again later?
We finally got out the door and into the car at about 8:30. The 15 minute car ride was no fun. I felt trapped and couldn’t find a position to ease the contractions. They were about 3 minutes apart but lasting only about 45 seconds at that point but were very intense and painful. When Wil called the hospital to let them know we were on our way, they asked about the contractions and their response was a rather skeptical, “Well, OK. We’ll check her and see if she’s really in labor...” But once we were in the hospital and they heard me moaning, they didn’t question whether I was in labor, just called my doctor to let her know there was a baby coming today.
Getting “settled” into the hospital was torture. There was no peace between contractions with needing to get me changed into the gown (which I stripped off during pushing) and trying to get the IV started. Since it was early morning, I was mildly dehydrated from not drinking a ton overnight, so they had a bit of difficulty getting it in. They also had to get the baby on the monitor, which proved to be a bit difficult. The baby didn’t like staying on the monitor, but they finally got a sufficient heartbeat to leave me alone.
They asked me very few questions, thankfully, and when they finally checked my progress they announced that I only had a little cervix left. My response: “What?! You mean no dilation at all??” I’m not sure if they almost laughed or winced in sympathy with my misunderstanding. By “only a little cervix left” they meant I was 7-8 cm dilated.
At that point, I looked around the room and noticed the clock front and center. It was 9am sharp. I told Wil to take it down and he negotiated with the nurses where they could put it so that they could see it and I couldn’t. They brought in a birthing ball and helped me move off of the bed so that I could flop over it. That was my favorite position. I think I might have relaxed a bit at that point, but the baby’s heartbeat monitor alarm started beeping. Every time that happened they tried to re-adjust the monitor but then it would start beeping again. They finally determined that the baby’s heartbeat was syncing with my own, but they had to keep checking to make sure every time the monitor alarm went off. It kept going off over and over again and every time it went off they would murmur a bit over me and I would ask “Is the baby OK?” He was, they said, but no one really gave me a very reassuring answer. I could feel the baby moving all over, but the alarms kept making me scared. All of it was very chaotic and unsettling and made me want to escape the situation. I was not a “strong” or “beautiful” birther at all: I kept moaning “I don’t want to. I don’t want to. Can we just skip this part?”
Sooner than I expected, I started pushing. Even pushing felt awful. I was terrified of tearing again and in the kneeling position, I could feel tons of pressure on my scar tissues. They allowed me to remain on the floor and prepped the room for a birth on the floor (labor was moving too quickly for setting up the tub, unfortunately). During one contraction my water broke with a forceful (and audible) snap that burned like crazy. Not too long after that, I started bleeding from the birth canal. The doctor and nurses got a bit of a concerned tension to them as they started trying to determine what was going on. They said it “wasn’t too much, but a steady stream.” Coupled with the baby’s heartbeat monitor alarm that KEPT going off, I was pretty tense myself and felt like everything was very out of control.
The doctor moved me up onto the bed to push on my side so that she could see better. After a couple pushes, they determined that I had somehow torn the birth canal in front of the baby and that I needed to bear down between contractions to help keep pressure from the baby’s head on the tear to help stem the bleeding. They also started encouraging me to push very hard and long--they really wanted to get the baby out quickly. In reality, I only pushed for about 20 minutes, but it felt like forever and I dreaded every single contraction.
The baby was born at 9:52 am--only about an hour after we reached the hospital. His cord was around his neck twice (“not tight, but not loose, either” said the doctor) but once his body was born, he was handed directly to me. I kissed him and then immediately started rubbing him because he wasn’t crying. He was moving around, but hadn’t cried. The nurses started rubbing him down, too, pretty quickly after I started. He finally let out a couple wails and then calmed down again. He had no interest in nursing immediately, so I just snuggled him and talked to him. Wil and I decided that he really did look like he fit the name we had chosen, so we finally gave him his name: Quinn Rhys.
Despite all the chaotic things that were going on, everyone involved in the birth was very kind and supportive. The nurses apologized several times for having to do things different from our birth plan (mainly due to my being Group B strep +). It definitely wasn’t the birth I imagined and I’m a bit disappointed with how I handled labor but the important thing is that it’s DONE and I have my sweet boy to cuddle!! :)
Quinn (wisdom, counsel) Rhys (enthusiasm, passion) Wade
Born 9:52 am on September 11, 2011
7lbs, 13.5oz.
20.5 inches
~Regina
At around 7, I got up to use the bathroom for the umpteenth time and decided to run a bath to see if that would make the contractions go away. The bath made them worse. Wil (my husband) got up to use the restroom at that point and I informed him that I didn’t think we’d be going to church that morning. We started collecting the last few things for the bags (mine and Aurora’s--our almost 3 yr old daughter) and the contractions started to intensify. Around that point, I felt a bit shaky and sick to my stomach but the feeling quickly passed so I kept going with things.
With the chaos of getting the bags together, getting Aurora up, dressed, fed, and passed off to the childcare and all of that, I was having a really hard time dealing with the contractions. I simply couldn’t focus on anything. The contractions were extremely painful, moaning through them was no relief, and I couldn’t get myself to relax with any cue. Around that point, I decided I was done and didn’t want to do this today. Couldn’t the baby stop and try again later?
We finally got out the door and into the car at about 8:30. The 15 minute car ride was no fun. I felt trapped and couldn’t find a position to ease the contractions. They were about 3 minutes apart but lasting only about 45 seconds at that point but were very intense and painful. When Wil called the hospital to let them know we were on our way, they asked about the contractions and their response was a rather skeptical, “Well, OK. We’ll check her and see if she’s really in labor...” But once we were in the hospital and they heard me moaning, they didn’t question whether I was in labor, just called my doctor to let her know there was a baby coming today.
Getting “settled” into the hospital was torture. There was no peace between contractions with needing to get me changed into the gown (which I stripped off during pushing) and trying to get the IV started. Since it was early morning, I was mildly dehydrated from not drinking a ton overnight, so they had a bit of difficulty getting it in. They also had to get the baby on the monitor, which proved to be a bit difficult. The baby didn’t like staying on the monitor, but they finally got a sufficient heartbeat to leave me alone.
They asked me very few questions, thankfully, and when they finally checked my progress they announced that I only had a little cervix left. My response: “What?! You mean no dilation at all??” I’m not sure if they almost laughed or winced in sympathy with my misunderstanding. By “only a little cervix left” they meant I was 7-8 cm dilated.
At that point, I looked around the room and noticed the clock front and center. It was 9am sharp. I told Wil to take it down and he negotiated with the nurses where they could put it so that they could see it and I couldn’t. They brought in a birthing ball and helped me move off of the bed so that I could flop over it. That was my favorite position. I think I might have relaxed a bit at that point, but the baby’s heartbeat monitor alarm started beeping. Every time that happened they tried to re-adjust the monitor but then it would start beeping again. They finally determined that the baby’s heartbeat was syncing with my own, but they had to keep checking to make sure every time the monitor alarm went off. It kept going off over and over again and every time it went off they would murmur a bit over me and I would ask “Is the baby OK?” He was, they said, but no one really gave me a very reassuring answer. I could feel the baby moving all over, but the alarms kept making me scared. All of it was very chaotic and unsettling and made me want to escape the situation. I was not a “strong” or “beautiful” birther at all: I kept moaning “I don’t want to. I don’t want to. Can we just skip this part?”
Sooner than I expected, I started pushing. Even pushing felt awful. I was terrified of tearing again and in the kneeling position, I could feel tons of pressure on my scar tissues. They allowed me to remain on the floor and prepped the room for a birth on the floor (labor was moving too quickly for setting up the tub, unfortunately). During one contraction my water broke with a forceful (and audible) snap that burned like crazy. Not too long after that, I started bleeding from the birth canal. The doctor and nurses got a bit of a concerned tension to them as they started trying to determine what was going on. They said it “wasn’t too much, but a steady stream.” Coupled with the baby’s heartbeat monitor alarm that KEPT going off, I was pretty tense myself and felt like everything was very out of control.
The doctor moved me up onto the bed to push on my side so that she could see better. After a couple pushes, they determined that I had somehow torn the birth canal in front of the baby and that I needed to bear down between contractions to help keep pressure from the baby’s head on the tear to help stem the bleeding. They also started encouraging me to push very hard and long--they really wanted to get the baby out quickly. In reality, I only pushed for about 20 minutes, but it felt like forever and I dreaded every single contraction.
The baby was born at 9:52 am--only about an hour after we reached the hospital. His cord was around his neck twice (“not tight, but not loose, either” said the doctor) but once his body was born, he was handed directly to me. I kissed him and then immediately started rubbing him because he wasn’t crying. He was moving around, but hadn’t cried. The nurses started rubbing him down, too, pretty quickly after I started. He finally let out a couple wails and then calmed down again. He had no interest in nursing immediately, so I just snuggled him and talked to him. Wil and I decided that he really did look like he fit the name we had chosen, so we finally gave him his name: Quinn Rhys.
Despite all the chaotic things that were going on, everyone involved in the birth was very kind and supportive. The nurses apologized several times for having to do things different from our birth plan (mainly due to my being Group B strep +). It definitely wasn’t the birth I imagined and I’m a bit disappointed with how I handled labor but the important thing is that it’s DONE and I have my sweet boy to cuddle!! :)
Quinn (wisdom, counsel) Rhys (enthusiasm, passion) Wade
Born 9:52 am on September 11, 2011
7lbs, 13.5oz.
20.5 inches
~Regina