Audrey Elizabeth

I’ve been trying to write this for 2½ months and I just can’t seem to get it right. The birth of my daughter was one of the most special, transformative, and sacred experiences of my life; I just want to be able to do it justice. But, at this rate, I’ll wait too long and I’ll forget all of the small, special details. So. Here it is…perfectly imperfect.

Audrey’s Birth Story

Friday November 25, 2016

            My due date was 2 days away and I was feeling like I’d be pregnant for at least another week. At this point, I was ok with that because my midwife—Marie—was out of town for Thanksgiving and wouldn’t be back until Sunday. I was more than happy to wait for her because we had built a great relationship over my pregnancy. I wanted an unmedicated labor and delivery and a few other things that weren’t typical of a traditional hospital birth. I trusted her and she knew the ins and outs of my birth plan and was extremely supportive of all my choices.

            I had spent the day basically sitting around feeling pregnant and I really wanted to get out and get my mind off of things. I went to a local spa for a pedicure, which was heavenly. The nail tech even did some “labor stimulating” reflexology, but I left feeling just as pregnant and not any closer to labor. The 45 minutes I spent out of the house was not long enough—I had a serious case of cabin fever—so I convinced my husband to drive about an hour to visit his sister. His parents were also in town, so it made sense to pop down to say hi. After a nice visit, we headed home and I started feeling some Braxton Hicks contractions during our drive. I didn’t think much of them; I was tired and a little dehydrated. We got home around 11pm and I drank a big glass of water and went to bed.

Saturday November 26, 2016

            I woke up around 1am feeling a little uncomfortable. I was still having irregular Braxton Hicks, but they were slightly stronger and I had a hard time falling back asleep. At 1:30am, I decided to get up and take a bath. I had battled pregnancy-induced insomnia for the last several weeks and, usually, this helped me relax and go back to sleep. Not today. To my surprise, my contractions became very regular (6-7 minutes apart) and stronger than I had ever felt. My heart sank at the idea that I might be in labor…I knew that Marie would not be there and that I would be assigned to whichever OB was on call. I tried to stay positive and told myself this was false labor and that I should just go back to bed and wait it out.

I tossed and turned in bed for another 45 minutes as the contractions continued steadily at 6-7 minutes apart. It was about 3:30am and I needed to consult someone about this new development, so I gently shook Chris awake and said something like, “it’s probably not a big deal, but I thought I should let you know that I’m having contractions and they’re like 6-7 minutes apart.” He was pretty groggy, but he asked me if he should get up and I told him no. I was still clinging desperately to the hope that I was in false labor.

Another 45 minutes passed by and as I tried to get comfortable, Chris started to wake up and take my contractions seriously. He started timing them and they were still 6 minutes apart on the dot. By now it was almost 4:30am and he got out of bed and started getting ready. He was throwing in loads of laundry and cleaning things. I laid in bed and tried to convince him to go back to sleep so he wouldn’t be tired for work the next day. Seeing him getting all worked up scared me. All I could think was, I can’t do this without Marie.

Once Chris had exhausted himself cleaning upstairs, we moved downstairs to watch some TV to help distract me. My contractions were strong and uncomfortable, but I was able to cope on my own. Chris found more cleaning to do and I watched Chopped and called my mom.

As time passed, my contractions became more intense and closer together. Before, Chris and I were laughing and joking between contractions. Now, I was crying and questioning my decision to have a baby without any pain medication. I was forced to acknowledge that I was really in labor and that this was it. I was going to have our baby sometime in the near future (I was mentally preparing myself for a 24-36 hour labor). I texted Marie and she confirmed that I was in labor and I wondered if she was going to try to make it…she had eluded to the idea that she might come back early if I went into labor on Saturday. Chris reassured me that I could do it either way and tried to help me get comfortable. We called Elizabeth, Chris' sister who was also my doula, and she made arrangements to come and help Chris support me.

I was progressing pretty quickly, and by 8:30am my contractions were 3-4 minutes apart. Chris began to talk to me about transferring to the hospital. I passionately refused and told him I wanted to stay home as long as possible. I was more comfortable at home and I was worried if I had the option to get an epidural I would take it. As time passed, I could tell Chris was getting more concerned and he kept asking me if I was ready to go to the hospital. I tried my best to stay positive as a means to convince him to let me stay home. As the contractions continued to get stronger and closer together, I was less effective in my attempts to convince him that staying at home was a good idea. About 10:00am, I finally agreed that we could start getting ready to leave. Chris had already packed up the car during his cleaning frenzy, so I took a shower and got dressed.

I was not looking forward to the short, 8 minute drive to the hospital. My contractions were now 2-3 minutes apart and seemed unbearable. I climbed into the passenger seat and kneeled backwards, hugging the back of the seat while Chris drove. We arrived at the hospital and slowly made our way up to Labor & Delivery, stopping for each contraction on the way. We got to the front desk and told them I was in labor. The nurse looked a little skeptical, but she took us seriously when we told her my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and I started crying in pain as another contraction came.

Another nurse came to walk me to triage. She handed me a gown and I started stripping down; not caring at this point who saw me. She told me to step into the bathroom where I could undress privately. I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes because I knew she was about to see every part of me anyway, I just wanted to get the whole process over with so I could get back to laboring. I was also anxious to see who was on call and who would be delivering my baby.

The triage experience was not a pleasant one. One nurse asked me a billion questions—even though we had preregistered—while the other tried to check me between contractions to see how much I had dilated. She didn’t time it very well and ended up checking me in the middle of a contraction. I yelled at her to stop and when she did, I told her that I didn’t want any more vaginal checks. I wasn’t very nice, but I was doing the best I could 8 hours into labor. She told me that I was about 6-7cm and that my water hadn’t broken yet. She suggested I have the OB break my water, I declined. At this point, the frustration really seemed to set in. I didn’t have the mental stamina to have the long conversations that were being asked of me AND handle my increasingly strong contractions. I was kicking myself for not having a copy of my birth plan, but I had planned on laboring with Marie, who knew my birth plan better than I did.

I was finally admitted and moved to a delivery room. I had one more obstacle to endure before I could get back to laboring my own way; the nurses told me I was required to stay in bed on the fetal monitor for 30 minutes. Those 30 minutes were probably the most painful of my labor; trying to hold still while in the most excruciating pain I had ever experienced was not easy. Also, during this time I got to meet my new OB. My heart sank when he walked in the room. I had had an appointment with him early in my pregnancy. To put it kindly, we were just not a good fit in terms of personality and we were on completely different ends of the birth spectrum. We had a brief talk, but didn’t seem to see eye to eye on my birth plan, so we decided I would continue to labor on my own and that he would return once it was time to push.

By now, I had “passed” the fetal monitor test and was allowed to get up out of bed to continue laboring on my own terms. I was so relieved. I moved to the shower to labor there. The warm water was heaven and made the pain seem much more tolerable. After a period of time—honestly, I had no concept of time at this point—I moved back out to my bed. Chris helped me raise the head portion of the bed and I knelt backwards and hugged the railing on the back. Elizabeth arrived and I swear I could hear angels singing. She jumped right in and helped me manage my pain.

I also caught a lucky break around this time. I got a new nurse who happened to have delivered all of her 3 children naturally. Nurse Amber knew all the pain management techniques and was very skilled in counter pressure. She was a breath of fresh air and asked me what I needed, rather than trying to convince me to do things her way. I was feeling overheated, so she brought a large fan in. Heavenly.

I don’t  remember the details from this point until I began pushing. I do know I was EXHAUSTED. It was late morning/early afternoon, I was running on about 2 ½ hours of sleep and hadn’t eaten since about 7pm the night before. I was too tired to do anything but lay on my side. The pain was really starting to get to me. I was sobbing in between contractions and was begging nurse Amber, Chris, and Elizabeth for a 20 minute break. This was completely irrational at this point, but in my mind…all I needed to get through this labor was a 20 minute power nap.

All of a sudden, I was pushing. This part of the labor was the most surprising. My body was pushing on its own and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it! It was amazing and my faith was restored in my body’s ability to deliver our baby without the use of medical intervention or pain medication.

My water still hadn’t broken, so Amber suggested I have the doctor come in and break it. She told me it would help things move along faster and, at this point, I was ready to be done. I asked her if she could break it for me because I REALLY didn’t want to see my OB at all, much less for an intervention I didn’t even want. She told me that wasn’t in her scope of practice and asked if she could page the doctor. I was worn down and not sure I could last much longer, so I agreed. Luckily, during a push a few minutes later I felt a strong “POP” and a huge rush of fluid. My water had broken on its own.

Even though I was pushing, I didn’t feel like the end of labor was in sight. Chris and Amber kept telling me they could see the baby’s head. I didn’t believe them, so they brought a mirror in so I could see. I was too tired to really look and I was falling asleep between pushes. I looked at Chris and told him I was ready for my epidural. He laughed a little, smiled, and told me it was a little late for that.

I remember that at one point one of the other nurses told me to stop pushing until the doctor arrived or I would have the baby before he could get here. Little did she know, I was hoping that would happen. Haha. Anyway, I kept pushing and Chris kept telling me he could see the baby…but I couldn’t and I was so frustrated. I kept looking at Chris, hoping that he had figured out a way to make the pain stop. He would offer words of encouragement and his million-dollar smile and I’d feel a surge of energy. Before I knew it, her head was almost out; my doctor came from out of nowhere, and told me that she would be here in 2-3 more pushes. I pushed once and felt relief from the pressure and pain I had been feeling for the last 12 hours. At 1:56pm, the doctor handed our baby girl to me right away and, just like that, my daughter was here and I was a mom.

I felt a rush of emotions that I can’t describe, but most of all I felt so much joy. I was deliriously tired, but also deliriously happy. I’ve read about the “post-delivery high” but experiencing it was a whole different story. I kept looking at Chris or Elizabeth and saying “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Post delivery went smoothly. The doctor respected my wishes for delayed cord clamping and an unassisted 3^rd stage. He gave me a little flack for opting out of an IV, but Elizabeth took care of that and I was too busy admiring my beautiful baby girl to care. 

I had a minor tear, so I had to get stitched up. Chris turned on FRIENDS (my favorite TV show) and I distracted myself with that and holding our baby. After that, a nurse came in and helped me breastfeed. The next two hours were blissful. Baby girl was nursing great. I felt amazing and euphoric, I had already forgotten about the pain of delivery. I was starving so Amber ordered me a cheeseburger and fries. Chris and I talked about the names we both loved and knew that Audrey Elizabeth was meant to be. It had been our “front runner” most of my pregnancy and it just seemed to fit. It was a special moment to choose a name for our daughter that had so much meaning for us—that’s another story for another time.

I’m so grateful for my birth experience. It instilled within me a confidence I’ll always have. I’m grateful for those who stood by me and supported me through the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Call me crazy, but I’m looking forward to having another baby.