i’m going to assume that you want the story. and i’m going to assume that if you’re still reading, words like placenta and afterbirth and insurance don’t scare you.
it started thursday night: a few contractions, intense and long, but infrequent. i went to bed. but i couldn’t sleep. every fifteen or twenty minutes i had a contraction that made me sit up, twisting uncomfortably. i kept waiting for labor to feel like it did the first time: low, rhythmic, pulsing in a gentle but insistent intensity. it never felt like that.
about midnight i had a contraction that scared me. i jumped out of bed covered in blood. that’s when i decided that it was time to rouse the husband and hie me to the hospital. [did i mention it was about 11 degrees below zero? no romantic walk underneath a full moon to the hospital this time. we took the car.]
apparently triage had seen quite a few false labors that evening: the nurse wasn’t in any hurry and had me performing tasks that required an amazing amount of motor skills for someone whose body was slowly pulling apart (things like pouring pee from a cup to a test tube and tying on the baby monitor myself). after a few contractions lying on my back in bed the midwife finally arrived to check me. she seemed surprised to find me at a six and in active labor. and i was even more surprised that the first words out of her mouth were, “should i order an epidural?” and you should have seen the look on her face when i countered with, “actually, i was hoping to labor in the tub.” and that’s when i knew that we were in for an interesting night.
the baby’s heart rate kept dipping below 100, so once i was in the labor room i got hitched up to all sorts of fancy contraptions that i avoided with henry. things like IVs and oxygen masks and external monitors. they left me in bed, on my back, hooked up to all sorts of crazy things for over an hour. all my efforts to avoid an induction and i was getting the royal medical treatment anyway; it was a little frustrating. once they let me off oxygen i hopped out of bed and labored standing up for the next hour before they let me get in the tub. [oh. the tub. i love the tub. i want to marry the tub.] my nurse had never seen an unmedicated labor–she kept remarking that i was the calmest woman in labor on the floor. i’m not sure she believed me when i told her i like the way labor feels. [you probably don't believe me either, but it's just as well.]
and then it was time to push. i had to “hop” out of the tub because the midwife on call didn’t do water births. i was prepared for that eventuality. i was not prepared, however, for the reality of pushing without the warm wonderful water everywhere. there were about fifteen minutes where i was positive that my life was ending, my body was dismembered, and i was leaving my husband on his own with two kids. but the moment passed and i got to reach down and pull my sweet little violet from my womb onto my tummy. her eyes were wide open and we shared a stare of rapturous disbelief.
i did end up tearing quite badly, but i got my lesson with little hal (so did joe). we had anesthesiology up pretty fast and i was given a spinal block by five very excited anesthesia residents. and, let me tell you, i could not feel a thing. not a thing. it was amazing. apparently, you can get one of those before you give birth.
post script:
you might be wondering how we chose violet’s name after all my hem and hawing. it was my first choice way back at the beginning, but joe wasn’t on board. we had another list of possibilities: margaret, eleanor, tessa, or jane. for quite some time we were calling her maggie. but my grampa’s dog is named maggie. and while the nickname possibilites for margaret are fabulous–let’s be honest–no one really likes the name margaret.
in the end, henry was the clincher. when coaxed to say different names, the only thing he would say is “baby vi.” and once you’ve had your little guy pat your tummy and say “hi, baby vi” you go ahead and try and name her something else. plus, i love the name: january could use more flowers. and violet is the most agreeable of all the boxcar children.
Oh wow! You had quite the time didn’t you? I HATE triage! Just admit us already! We know what we’re doing, we’re not some 16 year old who has never done this before. So it sounds like it wasn’t your ideal birth as mapped out on your birth plan…but you made it though with a beautiful healthy baby. I knew she’d wait until the coldest day of the winter to come out. Silly thing! I think the name is adorable. I had totally forgotten about the boxcar children, need to find those books again.
I’m glad you got the spinal block-hopefully that was a better experience for you. I think feeling nothing AFTER labor would be more ideal than feeling nothing during labor. I agree, it’s not that bad. I actually think it is an amazing feeling when you push that baby out. Call me crazy, but it is empowering and feels good (maybe because the burning from pushing stops?).
I hope your recovery is going well. My 2nd went a lot better and faster than my first. Please allow me to bring dinner and take Henry for awhile after your mom leaves. You know where to find me. Give that baby lots of kisses and cuddles for me.
Congrats! We’d love to bring by dinner sometime and help in any way we can! I’ll give you a call later this week…what an amazing story (I love birth stories, they make me so happy!). Thanks for sharing!
I’m thrilled to have the birth story. I was hoping you would post it. Sorry you had to deal with such unsupportive support people, but I’ll bet you gave them something to think about. How sad is it that your nurse had never even seen an unmedicated birth before? And I can’t believe the first words out of your midwife’s mouth were about getting an epidural, followed by her not “doing” water births. I don’t know why people like that become midwives. So pushing is way better in the tub, huh? I’ve been debating whether to do a waterbirth with my next. Is it that much better? Anyway, congratulations on a beautiful baby and a beautiful birth, despite the medical establishment’s “help.” I hope you heal quickly and more easily this time!
i’m very happy for you both. i prayed and prayed it wouldn’t be as terrible as hal was. not that hal is a terrible baby, but yours by far is the scariest after birth story i’ve ever heard.
so hoorah for spinal blocks and bathtubs. i’ve never even considered a tub. i’m just trying to wrap my head around the words “full term”. (insert laugh here from you)
love you guys. we are so happy for you.
I am totally afraid of insurance- what a mess. Thanks for sharing your story. I couldn’t agree more, its awful to be hooked up to all those things. They made me stay connected to all those cords and beeping things for two days! She’s lovely with all her dark hair. I hope your recovery is going well.
There’s also Violet Baudelaire (from Series of Unfortunate Events): the oldest of the Baudelaire orphans who can invent anything, but can only barely cook toast.
My mom was set on the name Jacob for my brother, but my dad didn’t like it at first. She told us (me and my two sisters) to call the baby Jake while he was still in her tummy. It worked.
I like the part where you say you shared a stare of rapturous disbelief. Beauty. Beautiful baby, beautiful (if ouchie) story. So glad she arrive safely.
Congratulations! I think Violet is a darling name and she is such a cute little thing. I remember saying how much you loved the tub, so I”m glad you got to do it for just a little bit. Maggie is actually in the running for Slivka #3, so if it was clever enough for you, it might raise it in my esteem too. Congrats!