Rowan's story {part three}

{in case you missed them, you can read part one + two of Rowan's birth story here + here}

As the obstetrician came to me + suggested oxytocin to progress my slowed labour, the feelings of disappointment and frustration with my own body overwhelmed me. {Pitocin [artificial oxytocin] was pretty much the last thing I wanted to be involved in my labour + delivery process. I'm no expert, but have read + heard + seen enough to know that can be a gateway to all kinds of other interventions during the birthing process. I would have been too far along at that point to receive an epidural, but many women who receive Pitocin ask for an epidural because of the intensity of the contractions. These newly severe contractions can also cause undue stress to the baby, which heightens the possibility of the use of different extraction tools, and even c-sections. I didn't want to take my chances, especially since the baby's heart rate was already elevated.} I asked if they could just break my water at that point, and we would reassess after an hour, at two o'clock.

My mother had told me numerous times throughout my pregnancy that labour happened quickly for her, and that if my water broke at home, not to wait the 24 hours they say you have before heading to the hospital. I had to get there right away. Boy, was she spot on! Once my water was broken [which took a few tries, but thankfully wasn't too uncomfortable], things moved quickly. Almost immediately after the midwife broke my water, the OB checked me to find that I had already hit 8cm dilated, and she was confident that things were picking up speed + pitocin would be unnecessary [thank you, Lord!].

Transition came on like a beast, and my calm, quiet contractions were no more. Even though I still had two centimetres to go, I was feeling the urge to push big time. With every contraction, I was trying my best to breathe through the urge need to push, using every ounce of my mental + physical strength to keep from pushing. {Pushing the baby further down at that point could have irritated my cervix, causing it to swell + making it more difficult to dilate fully.} The time ticked by slowly, every minute feeling like an hour as the contractions came harder and faster, leaving me with very little time to breathe and regroup in between. When I told them I wasn't sure I could go on, Nicole looked at me and told me I just had to [this was exactly the kind of straightforward personality I needed while giving birth!] and asked if I would like to try the nitrous oxide. I said I would give it a try, and gave the mask a few good sucks before throwing it aside, as it wasn't providing any amount of relief -- it was really just a distraction as I tried to breathe as deeply as possible. Marie checked me just before two o'clock [although I had no idea what time it was + I felt like I had been in transition for ages] and I must have been dilated to a large 9cm, although I have no recollection of her announcing exactly how far along I was at that point [I'm sure she must have let us know, because she had been all along!].

Ten minutes later, Marie + Nicole could tell I was starting to lose steam; I wasn't able to help pushing with the contractions, despite my best [although waning] efforts. Joey had been applying pressure to my back the entire time as I laid on my side [even when I lost control of my bowels -- sad day], and even this didn't seem to help any longer. Marie decided to check again, and at 2:10am, told me I was ready to start pushing. I was going to meet my baby.

{this would be a great place to stop and leave the rest of the story for another post, but I just can't do that to you -- you're getting the full meal deal today!}

I will spare you the grisly details, but I rolled onto my back and held my own legs for leverage as I pushed while Joey held my head forward. Marie applied counter pressure and instructed me to push just a little bit at a time as the baby's head crowned, so as to hopefully avoid any tearing. I don't remember too much, although I know my contractions slowed down a bit, giving me a moment of sweet relief between pushing. I also remember asking at one point if the baby's head was fully out, as I thought I could feel it just kind of dangling there. [It was, in fact, out.] With one last push to get past the shoulders, the baby kind of slithered the rest of the way out [there really isn't any other way to describe it; even Joey said the same thing] and was placed on my chest at 2:35am.

What followed certainly wasn't the beautiful mess of tears you see when a baby is born in a movie. Marie + Nicole both moved very quickly and quietly as they cut and clamped the umbilical cord [they apologized to Joey for not allowing him to do it as we had requested], and wiped the baby off a bit. I was in a bit of shock and still am relatively unaware of what all happened and in what order, but I do know I asked Joey at this point whether we'd had a boy or a girl; he looked at the baby, who was being wiped off by another nurse, and she opened the baby's legs quickly for Joey to see. His face and voice were dripping with confusion as he told me we'd had a girl. [He had been certain throughout my entire pregnancy -- even though we didn't choose to find out the sex -- that we were having a boy.]

Our daughter was whisked away to the warmer on the other side of the room while the obstetrician, who had just reentered the scene, checked me out. [I had only a very small tear -- so small they normally wouldn't even have bothered stitching it -- but since I am redheaded and very fair, they decided to suture it to be on the safe side.] Nicole was explaining that the baby had swallowed some meconium and they had to make sure she was breathing properly.The baby was very grunty, having let out only a few little cries, and Nicole said they wanted to hear "big, lusty cries!" Even after attempting to suction the gunk out of her mouth, they still weren't able to get lusty cries out of her, so after giving me a few more minutes with her, Joey followed her into the nursery, where she was put into an incubator and given oxygen.

At this point, although I'm sure it wasn't on purpose and Nicole was horrified when she returned, I was left alone in the room. I had been cleaned up, Joey had handed me my phone before he left with the baby, and I was so thankful for a few moments to myself. It sounds ridiculous, but other than holding my baby, which was obviously not possible at that time, the only thing I would have wanted was to be alone for a few moments. As an introvert who had been surrounded by people for hours during what was already an exhausting experience, I just needed some time to recharge.

Shortly before 4am [about twenty minutes after they took the baby to the nursery], Nicole came back into the room with a wheelchair to take me to see the baby. I felt lightheaded after only a few minutes seated upright, but I took my time staring at the little being we had brought into the world.

Eleven hours after she took her first breath, she was finally able to come out of the incubator and into our room. By this point, she had a first name: Rowan. It felt like I was really holding my baby for the first time, since the actual first time had been so rushed.

As scary as it was that she was finally here + fully dependent upon me, she was mine.