The week previous:
Bounced on birthing balls, ate pineapple, walked in the mornings, relaxed, four membrane sweeps, tried everything you hear about
The day previous:
Walked 4 miles around the mall for 2.5 hours, used the rest of the pineapple for a hawaiian dinner, and in a last ditch attempt bought some evening primrose oil.
8pm
I drove to the a friend’s house after mutual as Peter was playing dungeons and dragons that night. On my way, I turned off the radio and had a little conversation with Simon in my belly. Just me and him. I ended it by telling him it was time to come out.
12pm
Having just got home from D and D, I (ahem) inserted an Evening Primrose OIl which my midwife told me earlier that day she swore by. And upon insertion and me rolling over to get comfy for sleep I felt a gush. Now, none of my sisters waters broke until labor and I had just put something up there so I was a bit hesitant to say that my water broke. We googled what it would be like and I seemed to check some of the boxes but I told Peter I was still going to bed since if this was the real deal I wanted some good rest. Throughout that night I got up to pee 5 or 6 times and each one entailed another little gush.
The day of:
8:40am
Peter convinced me to go to the hospital even though I hadn’t been feeling any contractions all the morning since we awoke at 7. So we packed up the last minute things and stopped at the grocery store for some powerades for Peter. At this point, I fully intended on getting checked but being able to go back home to labor.
10:30am
They confirmed that my water had broken and, since I wasn’t feeling contractions, they got me started on pitocin to hopefully jumpstart my labor. It wasn’t what I intended or wanted to happen, but I tried to “calmly meet whatever turn my birthing may take” as I had learned from hypnobirthing. Also, I knew that I had to have this baby by midnight that night so I was ready to get this started. It was also this point when regret sunk in from not having eaten more than a half bowl of oatmeal for breakfast that morning seeing as it alone would have to last me the whole labor.
2:03pm
A text from Jordan: “What’s happening with ya?”
Me: “I’m on pitocin. Still not really painful. Bored. Hungry.”
2:25pm
Text to Liz Romney after her pep talk text: “On pitocin as we speak. Contracting every 1.5 minutes. And feeling almost nothing. It’s super weird. I’m not on any medication. ”
Up until this point, my contractions were showing on the monitor to be every 1.5 minutes and I didn’t feel any of it. I was sipping on my coconut slushy and laughing hysterically at random things like Peter pulling out his nose hairs. The nurses had come in periodically to turn up my pitocin and at this point it was at a 16 of 20. When they came in they were shocked that I was feeling fine and said how confused they were that I was laughing when I should have been crying from the contractions showing on the monitor. I had mostly stayed in bed but got up a few times to go to the bathroom in which more amniotic fluid would leak. But by now I’m thinking I should do what I can to hurry up labor so I started trying out different labor positions between the birthing ball, the cub, and standing. Within what felt like 5 minutes, I made a few more trips to the bathroom and a ton of amniotic fluid came out which, as I later found out, had been cushioning me from the contractions, and suddenly I started to feel them. And not just any contractions. In a matter of minutes I went from feeling nothing to feeling pitocin-level-16-contractions. Mind you, I’m still only dilated to a 3. Right after a strong contraction, I remember telling Peter that if this is what dilated to a 3 feels like then I can’t do this. The nurses came in and took me off pitocin to see if my body would continue laboring.
It stalled.
Back on pitocin but at a 4.
Throughout the afternoon/evening my labor progressed as expected while they continued to turn the pitocin up incrementally. I bounced between the birthing ball and leaning on Peter, and laboring in the tub (amazing by the way). Peter was being a huge support to me by playing calming playlists, trying out a hypno script (scrapped that idea pretty quick unfortunately), wheeling around my IV connections as I moved around and to the bathroom, holding my hand, and especially reminding me to breathe and stay relaxed.
Sometime between 8-9pm
Contractions were still pretty manageable and the nurse wanted to check me. I finally agreed but told her NOT to tell me any numbers. I DO NOT want to know. She said I might be pleasantly surprised to which I said NOPE. Then about a minute later Peter says, “Jill, you’re at a 7, that’s great!!!” 😬😬😬So much for that.
The next few hours were when Peter pulled all the weight. I could not have done it without him, especially during this time. I mostly labored in the bed while he applied counter pressure on my knees which saved me. I got so exhausted that I started dozing off between contractions but would wake up to say “Peter, counter pressure please”. I was actually very polite and well mannered through it all which surprised me. I never once got upset or yelled at Peter which I had joked about doing all pregnancy. Toward the end I remember having a moment where my mind was really clear and I told everyone in the room (Peter, Tina my midwife, and Jamaia the nurse) “Hey guys, I’m going to do this” as I realized how I could and would and how proud of myself I was at that moment. Everyone says that transition is the hardest part but that only messed up my perspective for what was coming for me next.
Around 10:30 pm
I don’t know how to describe the feeling, but my body began to experience pressure(?) or a pushing type feeling that was so intense it was beyond my control. Tina told me there was still a membrane covering Simon’s head and that I shouldn’t push yet but it couldn’t be helped no matter what I tried. I was on my side in the bed (again, not planned but I was too beyond caring at that point. I had tried being on my knees like I wanted to but it was too difficult) gripping the side rail while Peter applied counter pressure on my back. There were more than a few times that “the shakes” overtook me and Peter had to lead me back to slow, deep breaths from my hyperventilating. I don’t remember being told that I could finally push, but I began pushing on my side and was making no progress. They had me move to my back (the position I wanted to birth in the least but, again, didn’t care). The best way to describe it was the most intense exertion that was only to proceed Tina telling me to give it more. If you ask me, I would tell you that everybody was very encouraging then Tina got serious with me toward the end. If you ask Peter, he would tell you that he, Tina, and all the nurses were watching Simon’s heart rate drop on the monitor, fast. He saw the nurses get worried looks and all of them telling me to push as hard as I could. As Simon’s heart rate was quickly nearing the 60s when it should be in the 130s, that was when Tina looked me square in the eyes and firmly said “Your baby’s heart rate is dropping. I need you to bear down even when your body isn’t telling you to. This baby needs to come out NOW.” Even then I didn’t know the gravity of the situation but I beared down the best I could and groaned my way through for maybe 1 or 2 pushes and Simon’s head came out. She told me one more push for the shoulders and with that she pulled him out and he immediately began crying at 11:37pm. They placed him on my chest and we had our beautiful little boy. He was perfect.
For the next hour we held, kissed, and fed him. We were amazed by how alert he was that hour and how calm. There were moments that it was obvious we knew each other and almost even understood each other.
We love our little baby Simon Walter.
