The Birth Story

I've been meaning to write and post this for a while, but it's amazing to me how much time our little baby takes up--there's not as much time between feedings as you would think, and when there is a little time a nap seems like a better option! Sitting in a chair at the computer also isn't the most comfortable thing after you've had a baby.

Our baby boy was born on July 17--remember the due date was July 8. His name is Kevin James Tanner (named after both of our fathers), and he weighed 8 lbs. 1 oz.

And here's the story:

On July 8th, the due date, I had a midwife appointment. The midwife checked me and I was still completely closed. That was kind of discouraging, but I figured the baby would probably come soon and tried not to worry about it. I was scheduled for an induction at 42 weeks (July 22) if he wasn't born by then. I knew chances were that I wouldn't end up going that long, but for some reason it really bothered me, so I looked up some information about how they ripen your cervix and read a lot of things about Pitocin--and decided again that I did NOT want to be induced. It turns out it was a good thing I did a little more research, because the information came in handy.

I had a non-stress test scheduled for July 15, one week after the due date. I went alone to the appointment. I was still feeling well and the thought of being pregnant for a few more days wasn't too bad, although I was feeling impatient. They hooked me up to two monitors--one measured the baby's heartbeat, and the other measured the contractions and the baby's movements. The heartbeat is supposed to increase a little bit when the baby moves. Well, the baby hardly moved at all during the test, although his heartbeat was fine, so they said they wanted to do an ultrasound so they could do a biophysical profile. He looked great, but they found that the amniotic fluid was almost completely gone--very dangerous because without the cushioning of the amniotic fluid the baby could roll on top of the umbilical cord and cut off his supply of oxygen. So the ObGyn on duty came in and said it was time to have a baby. She found the midwife on call, explained the situation to her, and said they needed to send me up to labor and delivery. The midwife said I could call RT and wait for him before coming up to labor and delivery.

I was really upset and disappointed because I knew this meant most of my birth plan was going out the window. I had a wonderful image of spending a lot of labor in my own comfortable apartment, snacking throughout early labor to keep up my strength, then finishing off at the hospital without being attached to any monitors or IVs and definitely not getting any Pitocin or pain medication. I had really felt like this was the best way for me to do it. I had heard from many people that Pitocin makes the contractions horrific, and I was pretty sure that there was no way I would be able to stand being in labor induced by Pitocin. As I was doing my research about induction, I decided that if I ended up having to be induced, I would do my best to go without drugs, but that if it got to the point where I was suffering (rather than managing the pain) I would get an epidural. It was important to me to have a positive birth experience, and I didn't want to look back on something horrific. I'm really glad that for some reason I felt like I needed to put some thought into how I would handle an induced labor.

The midwife, Jane, checked me and I still wasn't dilated at all, which meant they needed to use other means to open me up a little bit before starting the Pitocin. She put in a foley bulb and filled it with water and said that it would fall out when I was dilated to about a 4--she predicted that would happen in 2-4 hours. While we waited I ate as much as I could because once they started the Pitocin I wouldn't be able to eat. Jane said this would probably be a very long process--at least 24-36 hours. I had to be hooked up to the fetal monitors all the time because of the low fluid levels, and they also put a medlock in my hand for the IV. It was really annoying because the monitors often slipped around when I moved and the medlock made my hand about as useful as if it was broken. Fortunately they had some telemetry monitors, so I wasn't plugged into a wall all the time and I was free to walk around.

It turned out that instead of taking a couple of hours for the foley bulb to come out, it took about 24 hours--it didn't come out until the next day. That was nice since I was able to eat and get some sleep and a shower before the Pitocin, but it was very boring to wait (it didn't hurt at all yet), which was why I would have preferred to be at home.

They started the Pitocin on Thursday morning. A new midwife, Stephanie, was on call. She told me that if I had been seeing the ObGyns they would have just done a C-section the day before because of failure to progress (of course I was failing to progress--I wasn't supposed to be in labor yet!)--fortunately the midwives don't mind giving you a little more time as long as the baby is doing okay . You can imagine I've said a lot of prayers of gratitude for that blessing. I really feel that I was guided by a higher power to choose midwives for my prenatal care. It's more evidence to me that God is Keeping My Feet.

In the afternoon I finally started having contractions that required some concentration. We did a lot of walking in the halls (RT was amazing and dragged the IV pole around for me). When I had contractions I would put my arms around him and sway while breathing deeply. As the contractions became more intense I started moaning through them. Occasionally I would assess my pain, and I kept feeling like I was handling the contractions just fine and definitely wasn't suffering yet, so I didn't ask for an epidural.

Around 9:00 at night I was starting to have a pretty hard time. I was really tired and that was making it hard to handle the contractions. I was starting to think I needed some relief--remember I had figured I would be getting an epidural because of how hard the Pitocin would make the contractions. Stephanie checked me and I was at a six, which was good progress. I assessed my pain and realized that it still wasn't unbearable except that I was incredibly tired, and Stephanie suggested that rather than an epidural I could take a small dose of narcotics, which would help me to sleep between the contractions and not care so much about the pain of the contractions--they would work for about two hours. I felt good about that option, and I think it was a good decision to take the narcotics. It helped me to get just enough rest to finish. RT says I said some pretty strange things to him during those couple of hours.

After the narcotics wore off we walked the halls some more. We also raised the back of the bed and I would sit on the side and lean sideways against the back. Eventually instead of moaning I was saying "I Can" in long, low tones. That really helped when I would reach the peak of the contractions and wasn't sure if I could make it through.

Several hours later the contractions were getting really intense and very painful. I'm not sure why I didn't realize I was in transition because I had lots of the symptoms and I had been dilated to a six several hours earlier. Now I felt like the pain was bad enough that if I had to endure this and worse for several more hours I would be suffering, so I told Ryan I thought it was time to think about the epidural. I didn't want to get one, but it was also important to me to not look back on a horrific birth experience and I thought I was going to have several more hours of even worse pain. He encouraged me to try waiting a little longer and then we would have the midwife check to see how much progress had been made. He was so helpful and did a great job taking charge of the situation. I couldn't have done it without him. Stephanie checked me and I was at a nine! In other words, there was no point in getting an epidural because soon I would be pushing and it might not provide relief until it was too late. All I could think was, "Are you kidding me? I'm actually going to have my epidural-free childbirth experience after all?"

Soon I realized why this had been so painful--it wasn't just the contractions, but also the urge to push. It was really hard to resist pushing while I waited to completely dilate. I hated it. Finally the nurse checked me and I was completely dilated, so Stephanie said I could start pushing. This was at about 5:00 in the morning. It felt a lot better to push. It didn't really seem painful anymore, which surprised me. It was exhilarating to push, but I didn't really like pushing because I just wanted to be done and I had no idea what was going on. RT and my nurse were great coaches and I quickly figured out how it felt when I was pushing effectively. At this point the fetal monitors were really annoying because it was painful for anything to be touching my belly.

Stephanie's shift ended and I had a new midwife, Meg, for the last little bit of pushing. Stephanie told me I was a strong woman for being able to have a natural childbirth while on Pitocin, and she also joked that Meg was stealing her delivery. I was so thrilled that I was in the pushing stage without drugs. I don't know if I would have been able to push effectively if I couldn't feel what was going on, and I think it really added something to the entire experience. Finally there was a push where I felt a very strong stinging, and I knew before they told me that the head had crowned. After a couple more sets of pushes Meg told me that on the next contraction she wanted me to blow instead of pushing so that I wouldn't tear, and I knew that THIS WAS IT! The baby was going to come out this time! It was an amazing moment when I saw Meg hold him up and they passed him into my arms (no slimy skin-to-skin for me--they wrapped him in a blanket first). I was smiling and nearly crying. He was so beautiful. Pretty soon I asked RT if he wanted to hold him because Meg was stitching me up and that was distracting me (looking back I kind of wish I had asked to see the placenta because I was kind of curious). I loved watching RT and K bonding. I pushed for about three hours, but I completely lost track of the time and didn't realize how long it had taken.

This was a very long process, but I'm so grateful that I still ended up having a good experience and even more grateful that my beautiful son is here and completely healthy. The last week and a half have been wonderful. There have definitely been challenges and tears, but somehow we've been able to figure out what to do in every case. I am so excited for the opportunity to be a mother and I feel so strongly that there's no better way to make a difference in this world. This is what I want to do. I often feel amazed at this beautiful boy who is completely dependent on me for his survival--and I really am capable of providing those needs. It's hard to believe that I have a baby of my very own now--only a couple of years ago that time seemed so far away.

One of the things I am most grateful for is the guidance and strength I have received from the Holy Ghost during the last couple of weeks. One of the things I was really hoping was that giving birth would be a spiritual experience, and it definitely was. I felt an impression from the Holy Ghost that I should switch to the midwives, and in the end this saved me from having a C-section. I was prompted by the Spirit to do a little more research to prepare for an induced labor, so when that happened I was prepared and knew better what was going on and how to be my own advocate as a patient. Throughout labor I heard and felt the voice of the Spirit helping me and giving me strength--when I could feel a contraction starting and just wasn't sure if I could handle it, I distinctly heard, "Let me help you," and that helped me make it through. When it has been the middle of the night and K won't stop crying and I'm exhausted, the Holy Ghost has reassured me that I'm doing a good job taking care of my child and that it will be okay. I'm so grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost. Even though it changed all of my plans, I am also grateful that they were able to find the problem with the low amniotic fluid--I have to wonder if K would have been born safe, alive, and healthy if they hadn't.

I am also grateful for RT. He has been a wonderful help and support for me. I can't imagine going through the process of labor without him there to support me--he knows me so well and often was able to suggest just the right thing to help me keep going. He does a great job of soothing K when he is upset, and he has been doing a lot of things to help me out so that I can rest and recover. I really appreciate the encouragement he has given me. I also feel so blessed that we are married for all eternity and that he is a worthy, noble priesthood holder.

no baby, M's first cockroach, and [not] rabid foxes

We still do not have a baby. Well, we do, but he hasn't been born yet. I'm experiencing a few positive signs that indicate that my body is preparing for labor, such as Braxton-Hicks that are becoming more and more frequent, a noticeable decrease in how much the baby kicks my ribs (he doesn't seem to be able to reach them anymore), and more pressure, movement, and soreness lower down in my hips, but nothing that means the real, um, fun has begun. I'm trying to stay positive about it and recognize that even though these aren't the real thing, they do mean that it's getting close. The past week or so has been a lot more uncomfortable for me, but still not so bad. I'm just continuing to do normal things and trying to think about the wonderful little blessing that is coming into our lives rather than worrying about things I can't control.

I've concluded that the baby is either not going to come until I've finished up the projects I was determined to finish before he was born, or he's going to come just as I get started on something big. Accordingly, I've nearly finished one of the things I've been working on for a couple of months, and I decided three days after the due date that I was going to start something completely new. I'll probably post about both projects soon, with pictures, but I want to finish first. We'll see if either of those things will put me into labor--haha. I guess in reality it's mostly up to hormones and such.

Seriously, I'm not desperate to go into labor. I can handle waiting a little longer.

A few days ago we decided to go out for a walk--it was kind of late at night because it's a lot cooler in the dark, which is important to me since I'm feeling so hot a lot of the time. After a couple of minutes I commented to RT that now I finally understand why pregnant women waddle--because they're kind of in pain! Part of the reason I wanted to go for a walk was because I was having some hip pain and it seemed to help to walk. I was finding that something that resembles waddling was more comfortable than the way I normally walk. I feel like I need to clarify again that I'm not suffering--I'm really feeling great. As I've grown bigger and heavier in the past few months my walking hasn't really changed--I've continued to be able to walk normally and at a regular pace. Generally that's still the case, but this night was particularly hard, I guess. I've been amazed and grateful at how well I have been feeling.

I suggested that we walk by the business college and then past the basketball stadium to get back to our apartment. The landscaping by the business college is really nice, especially in the dark with the fountains and lights. Leaving the courtyard by the business college was where the adventures began. We were walking along and talking, and as we passed a drain I noticed a couple of brown things and thought they were just little leaves. Then RT grabbed my arm to pull me farther from the drain, and I realized the brown things were crawling. Yep, my first cockroaches--they seemed to be living in the drain or something. I've seen them in pictures, of course, but I hadn't been close to a wild one before. I'm proud to say that I didn't scream or jump around dramatically with my arms waving around (I think RT was glad too). But it did startle me. I would definitely prefer to not have cockroaches crawling around my house. Pretty gross. RT said those are the clean cockroaches--I would hate to see the dirty ones.

After taking a couple of seconds to recover from seeing our little brown friends and for RT to enjoy my reaction to them, we kept walking, but after only a few steps I looked towards some trees and bushes and saw some small shapes. Initially I thought they were cats, but then I realized they were sort of jumping and thought they were rabbits, but then they were walking and seemed more like cats again, but then they looked towards us and their long ears seemed to suggest that they were rabbits. Then we saw that they had long bushy tails and I couldn't figure out what they were until RT said, "Oh, they're foxes." We paused to say how cute they were and just kept walking past them without bothering them. One of the foxes seemed interested in us and slowly made its way towards us. RT said we should probably keep our distance because he had read that there had been some foxes with rabies hanging around in the area lately. Thanks. I'm such a worrier, and after letting "foxes with rabies" echo in my head a few times I had an image of angry foxes attacking our legs. The fox continued to approach slowly as we walked past, and I was breaking into a cold sweat. But we took a nice slow pace and kept walking and eventually the fox stopped where it was and let us go. Only then did RT point out that we didn't need to worry because the foxes obviously weren't acting like they had rabies, and I felt a little sheepish. The fox that was coming closer had been very relaxed, just a little wary and curious--he wasn't acting at all like a diseased animal preparing to attack for no apparent reason. Besides, RT could have easily chased it away if there was any danger. So we escaped the perfectly normal foxes and finished our walk, and I was reminded that I needed to be careful to not get carried away with being worried.

a timely reminder for me

“We have a secret in our culture, and it’s not that birth is painful; it’s that women are strong.” ~ Laura Stavoe Harm

So true. I believe it. It was just what I needed to hear.

Remember, no news is good news.

Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think I'm going to have a baby anytime soon, despite what the ticker on my sidebar says. I read parts of a book called Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Childbirth (I rather liked it, by the way). The first half of the book consisted of birth stories. I can't tell you how many of those women mentioned that the night they went into labor the moon was full, and it had some kind of meaning or significance for them--I decided that was kind of weird. Well, last night and the night before I looked up into the sky and noticed that the moon was full, and I put my hands on my hips and said, "I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to have a baby when there's a full moon." My views about birth have changed quite a bit since I found out I was pregnant, but I still refuse to become enough of a hippie about birth that the moon becomes anything other than a big round rock. So if you want, you can blame the wait on my conscious decision to not go into labor under a full moon, although I don't think it makes much difference. The moon has nothing to do with it.

(Honestly, I doubt I will care much about the moon when I am having a baby.)

Feeling family-sick

Yes, these are all my siblings. The youngest is five years old, and I am the oldest (it's also starting to look like I will be the shortest someday). I've been really missing these beautiful people today. It's been a long time since we have seen each other.

One thing I love about my brother and sisters is that our friendship is not going to pass away with time like so many of my great friendships do. There's a special bond because we are a family, and even though eventually all of us will have moved away from our parents and possibly spread throughout the country, we will always be trying to make time to see each other and stay in contact with each other. I know that many people in our society are trying to get out the idea that there are lots of different kinds of families, but you really can't call just any group of people a family, even if they care very much for each other. There are lots of special relationships that we can have with people (and we definitely should develop those friendships too!), but what can compare with being an eternal family?