A Short Story (Or: How I Gave Birth in 2.5 Hours)
Going into this, I knew that second births tend to go faster than first ones. I was perfectly prepared to just skip the part where I lie in bed for 3 hours watching music videos on repeat as my contractions slowly grew stronger. I was not prepared, however, for the entire labour process - from first "ow, I think that's maybe a contraction..." to "holy eff! I'm holding a BABY!" - to take less time than a Lord of the Rings movie.
Curious?
Let me tell you more.
...
Trip, our first son, was born on his exact due date. A phenomenon that occurs in only 9% of births, apparently. And because my life seems to be full of weird coincidences just like that, I figured that if anyone was going to have two babies born on their due date, it would likely be me. So for most of my pregnancy I was prepared to go into labour on April 12th.
A thought I held onto until about the 3rd of April, when I started to feel... heavier in the tummy region, and I just knew that we weren't going to make it ten more days. There wasn't anything specific really, no labour pains or cramping or water breaking or anything, just a slight heaviness.
So on Saturday April 6th, figuring that we might not get another chance for quite a while, we decided to go out for a totally kid-free dinner. Trip was installed cozily at his Jammie's house for the night, and we drove up to the city where wetook full advantage of being two adults out on the town and partied until the wee hours of the morning had a nice meal at a place called Chopsticks, strolled around the city centre for a bit, and were home in front of a movie by 9pm.
Around 11pm I started to feel a few cramps, and remembered how throughout the day I had been sort of "leaking" a little bit. Not too much, just enough to change my underwear a few times. "Hm," I thought, "maybe that was actually my water breaking?" So I did what any person with posable thumbs who is old enough to read would do - I googled it. And learned that, sure enough, my water was breaking, but because it happened so slowly it would likely be a few more days until we saw any results. By then the cramping had stopped, so I just decided to go to sleep, and giddily thought to myself "I bet we're going to meet this baby tomorrow."
I slept soundly without any more cramping until about 2am. As I slowly woke up I realized that I was getting cramps in my back, just like last time started with Trip. During this early part of labor they tell you just to keep resting as long as you can - you've got a lot of work coming your way, afterall. So that's exactly what I did - lie in bed until the pain became so much that I get couldn't ignore it anymore and had to get up. Which took all of seven minutes.
"All right," I thought, "here we go!" I got out of bed, switched the timer on to figure out how far apart my contractions were, and proceded to just get everything ready to go, thinking that maybe I would take a shower and pack a snack, then I figured I would ring our Midwife and wake Toff up.
As I was getting a carrot out of the fridge to peel, I felt another contraction coming on, so I rushed back over to my timer. Two minutes. The timer said two minutes. Now, normally your contractions start off maybe ten to fifteen minutes apart, and are really irregular. It's time to go to the hospital when they're closer together, maybe three to four minutes, and coming at regular intervals. "Weird," I thought, "must be a fluke. I'll wait for the next one."
Two minutes.
All right, so maybe I would skip the shower. I was planning on having a water birth anyhow. Ring the midwife, tell her we're coming in. Wake Toff up, tell him we gotta go! Grab a lime that's sitting on the counter and scratch furiously at its skin through my contractions, inhaling that glorious citrus scent and focusing all my energy on the feeling of the texture of it under my thumb. Toff takes a shower, we grab our bag, and head out the door.
Shit, I promised my mom that I would call her. Realize I left my phone at home. Can't figure out how to work Toff's so I sit feeling grumpy for a while...until my next contraction. They're getting stronger, and one of them doesn't last the requisite 60 seconds, but instead rolls right into another one without any time in between to rest. Bummer.
Now, we reach my least favorite part of going into the hospital for labor. The emergency room. And it's not because it's busy and crowded with sick people and you have to figure out who to talk to. It's because I had this image my entire life of going into hospital in labor, and you're panting and grabbing your massive tummy, and someone rushes to help you with a wheel chair and away you go! Easy, right? I mean, you are having a baby afterall. But wrong. I was so wrong. For both of our labors, we entered the ER and just felt kind of lost. No one jumps up to help you, they just sit behind their desks, and look at you. And I totally appreciate that when you work in a stressful environment like the ER, it's good to be relaxed and keep your cool, and I'm even sure that they were doing what needed to be done to get me checked in and on my way as soon as possible. But, by golly, it didn't seem like it! Toff was talking to three different people (by the way, the ER was practically empty at 3am) and they all seemed to be saying something different! Take a wheel chair. Go this way. No, go this way, it's quicker. I'll come with you. No, I'm staying here, he'll go with you. Silence. Um....can we GO then? No, just wait a minute, we have to finish registering you. Meanwhile, contraction, contraction, contraction. But then, mercifully! we got on our way. Someone did offer to push a wheelchair for me, but as soon as I sat down I knew that just wasn't going to work. The only way I could get through my contractions was to stand with my forehead on a counter, hold my lime in my hand, and look down at my toes, tapping away on the floor.
We made pretty slow progress this way, but even though a wheelchair would have been faster, I knew that if I sat down I would lose control and the pain would overwhelm me. So we trundled along until we came to the labor ward where we ran into our midwife who was literally just arriving at the hospital as well. So Toff, Bet and I made it to our delivery room (the same one we were in to deliver Trip!) and I just kept focusing on my toes and my lime as Bet rushed around turning lights on and making sure everything was ready. My contractions were coming about one minute apart, and a few of them turned into that awful double contraction that lasts twice as long with two peaks instead of one.
Bet held a little machine to my belly to monitor the baby's heartbeat, and it was so good to hear it going strong! After a couple of minutes she asked me to hop on the bed so she could see how far away we were from pushing. I didn't like the idea of sitting down, but knew that she wouldn't ask me to if it wasn't necessary, so I hopped on the bed with Toff sitting beside me. Bet asked if I would still like to have a water birth, and I said yes! definitely! Trip took a good hour of pushing, so I wanted to be prepared for it to take that long this time around too. Bet went to fill the tub....and all of a sudden I NEEDED to start pushing. Bet had asked me just one contraction before whether I felt any pressure in my bottom or not, and I said no. And all it took was for that final contraction to move the baby in place so my push reflex was triggered. At this point my contractions actually slowed down for a few minutes and I got to have a good, long rest (thank you for that, little baby!).
With Toff kneeling on the bed next to me, holding my hand, I start pushing. It's just past 4:15am. Two pushes, and Bet says, "I can see the head." And I think, "WHAT? No. No way. There is no way I'm getting out of this so easy. No way that this is going to be so fast." Two more pushes and I could feel the baby moving down, moving lower, moving out. And the best part? It doesn't hurt. Or, rather, it probably does hurt - a lot - but you're just so focused on what you have to do, and all the pain from the contractions have desensitized you to pain a little bit, so that you just can't think about it. One more push. A big one. And Bet tells me to slow it down, go easy, go slow, slow slow. So I pant (it's nearly impossible to push when you're breathing, you need your breath locked in so you can push down with your diaphragm). And I moan. And I think "fuck. Oh fuck, we're having a baby." And I feel a little bit of a sting as the babies head starts to come out (or "crown"). And there is one more push, and all I feel is wetness and the slippery feeling of something sliding out, effortlessly. And all I remember thinking is "Fuck. Baby. Baby. Baby." In fact, the first word my new child might have heard me say is the f bomb. Whoops. I just couldn't believe how fast it all happened! It is 4:30am - I was in bed, fast asleep, not even three hours ago.
And now Toff is beside me, and there's a baby on my chest, and it starts to cry. And I look to see if its a boy or a girl, but the umbilical cord is tucked between its legs so I can't see anything. I'll just look again later. It doesn't matter anyway. We have a baby. And it's here, and I did it, again. And fuck! Was that fast or what? And I probably laugh a little bit. But I don't remember if I cried or not. I don't think I did. I remember that I did with Trip. And in walks our midwife student who was supposed to be with us to help and to learn, but she didn't make it in time. And I take another look, and it's a girl. We have a daughter.
And I lift my shirt (didn't even have time to take it off!) and this beautiful creature knows exactly what to do, and she starts to nurse. And we sit like this, Toff and me and our daughter, for a couple of hours. And Bet brings us tea and toast and it's the best toast I have eaten in my entire life. At some point they take the baby over to weigh her - 7 lbs 9 ozs, or 3.2kgs - and make sure everything looks okay. And it is, she is perfect. And I go take a shower, and climb back into bed with my beautiful baby.
We name her Margaret, after Toff's grandmother, and we plan on calling her Meg. And we choose Adele as her middle name, for Adelaide, so that she always remembers where she comes from and all of the people there who love her, no matter where life brings her.
And that's it. Our midwife leaves around 6:30, after thanking us for giving her such an easy job to do. She'll come back later in the afternoon to fill out the discharge paperwork so we can go home - making our roundtrip journey to the hospital to get a baby take less than twelve hours. Toff goes off to find some breakfast and I curl up in bed with this beautiful creature beside me. She is sleeping, so I sleep too.
Around 10:00am Toff's mum comes in with Trip, so he can meet his baby sister. I make sure not to be holding her, so that the first thing he sees is me, just me. And he comes to sit with me in bed, and Toff brings over this little baby, all bundled up, and Trip giggles, and says "baaby!" And my heart... it melts.
And Jen asks for her name, and for some reason, now is when I start to cry.
Curious?
Let me tell you more.
...
Trip, our first son, was born on his exact due date. A phenomenon that occurs in only 9% of births, apparently. And because my life seems to be full of weird coincidences just like that, I figured that if anyone was going to have two babies born on their due date, it would likely be me. So for most of my pregnancy I was prepared to go into labour on April 12th.
A thought I held onto until about the 3rd of April, when I started to feel... heavier in the tummy region, and I just knew that we weren't going to make it ten more days. There wasn't anything specific really, no labour pains or cramping or water breaking or anything, just a slight heaviness.
So on Saturday April 6th, figuring that we might not get another chance for quite a while, we decided to go out for a totally kid-free dinner. Trip was installed cozily at his Jammie's house for the night, and we drove up to the city where we
Around 11pm I started to feel a few cramps, and remembered how throughout the day I had been sort of "leaking" a little bit. Not too much, just enough to change my underwear a few times. "Hm," I thought, "maybe that was actually my water breaking?" So I did what any person with posable thumbs who is old enough to read would do - I googled it. And learned that, sure enough, my water was breaking, but because it happened so slowly it would likely be a few more days until we saw any results. By then the cramping had stopped, so I just decided to go to sleep, and giddily thought to myself "I bet we're going to meet this baby tomorrow."
I slept soundly without any more cramping until about 2am. As I slowly woke up I realized that I was getting cramps in my back, just like last time started with Trip. During this early part of labor they tell you just to keep resting as long as you can - you've got a lot of work coming your way, afterall. So that's exactly what I did - lie in bed until the pain became so much that I get couldn't ignore it anymore and had to get up. Which took all of seven minutes.
"All right," I thought, "here we go!" I got out of bed, switched the timer on to figure out how far apart my contractions were, and proceded to just get everything ready to go, thinking that maybe I would take a shower and pack a snack, then I figured I would ring our Midwife and wake Toff up.
As I was getting a carrot out of the fridge to peel, I felt another contraction coming on, so I rushed back over to my timer. Two minutes. The timer said two minutes. Now, normally your contractions start off maybe ten to fifteen minutes apart, and are really irregular. It's time to go to the hospital when they're closer together, maybe three to four minutes, and coming at regular intervals. "Weird," I thought, "must be a fluke. I'll wait for the next one."
Two minutes.
All right, so maybe I would skip the shower. I was planning on having a water birth anyhow. Ring the midwife, tell her we're coming in. Wake Toff up, tell him we gotta go! Grab a lime that's sitting on the counter and scratch furiously at its skin through my contractions, inhaling that glorious citrus scent and focusing all my energy on the feeling of the texture of it under my thumb. Toff takes a shower, we grab our bag, and head out the door.
Shit, I promised my mom that I would call her. Realize I left my phone at home. Can't figure out how to work Toff's so I sit feeling grumpy for a while...until my next contraction. They're getting stronger, and one of them doesn't last the requisite 60 seconds, but instead rolls right into another one without any time in between to rest. Bummer.
Now, we reach my least favorite part of going into the hospital for labor. The emergency room. And it's not because it's busy and crowded with sick people and you have to figure out who to talk to. It's because I had this image my entire life of going into hospital in labor, and you're panting and grabbing your massive tummy, and someone rushes to help you with a wheel chair and away you go! Easy, right? I mean, you are having a baby afterall. But wrong. I was so wrong. For both of our labors, we entered the ER and just felt kind of lost. No one jumps up to help you, they just sit behind their desks, and look at you. And I totally appreciate that when you work in a stressful environment like the ER, it's good to be relaxed and keep your cool, and I'm even sure that they were doing what needed to be done to get me checked in and on my way as soon as possible. But, by golly, it didn't seem like it! Toff was talking to three different people (by the way, the ER was practically empty at 3am) and they all seemed to be saying something different! Take a wheel chair. Go this way. No, go this way, it's quicker. I'll come with you. No, I'm staying here, he'll go with you. Silence. Um....can we GO then? No, just wait a minute, we have to finish registering you. Meanwhile, contraction, contraction, contraction. But then, mercifully! we got on our way. Someone did offer to push a wheelchair for me, but as soon as I sat down I knew that just wasn't going to work. The only way I could get through my contractions was to stand with my forehead on a counter, hold my lime in my hand, and look down at my toes, tapping away on the floor.
We made pretty slow progress this way, but even though a wheelchair would have been faster, I knew that if I sat down I would lose control and the pain would overwhelm me. So we trundled along until we came to the labor ward where we ran into our midwife who was literally just arriving at the hospital as well. So Toff, Bet and I made it to our delivery room (the same one we were in to deliver Trip!) and I just kept focusing on my toes and my lime as Bet rushed around turning lights on and making sure everything was ready. My contractions were coming about one minute apart, and a few of them turned into that awful double contraction that lasts twice as long with two peaks instead of one.
Bet held a little machine to my belly to monitor the baby's heartbeat, and it was so good to hear it going strong! After a couple of minutes she asked me to hop on the bed so she could see how far away we were from pushing. I didn't like the idea of sitting down, but knew that she wouldn't ask me to if it wasn't necessary, so I hopped on the bed with Toff sitting beside me. Bet asked if I would still like to have a water birth, and I said yes! definitely! Trip took a good hour of pushing, so I wanted to be prepared for it to take that long this time around too. Bet went to fill the tub....and all of a sudden I NEEDED to start pushing. Bet had asked me just one contraction before whether I felt any pressure in my bottom or not, and I said no. And all it took was for that final contraction to move the baby in place so my push reflex was triggered. At this point my contractions actually slowed down for a few minutes and I got to have a good, long rest (thank you for that, little baby!).
With Toff kneeling on the bed next to me, holding my hand, I start pushing. It's just past 4:15am. Two pushes, and Bet says, "I can see the head." And I think, "WHAT? No. No way. There is no way I'm getting out of this so easy. No way that this is going to be so fast." Two more pushes and I could feel the baby moving down, moving lower, moving out. And the best part? It doesn't hurt. Or, rather, it probably does hurt - a lot - but you're just so focused on what you have to do, and all the pain from the contractions have desensitized you to pain a little bit, so that you just can't think about it. One more push. A big one. And Bet tells me to slow it down, go easy, go slow, slow slow. So I pant (it's nearly impossible to push when you're breathing, you need your breath locked in so you can push down with your diaphragm). And I moan. And I think "fuck. Oh fuck, we're having a baby." And I feel a little bit of a sting as the babies head starts to come out (or "crown"). And there is one more push, and all I feel is wetness and the slippery feeling of something sliding out, effortlessly. And all I remember thinking is "Fuck. Baby. Baby. Baby." In fact, the first word my new child might have heard me say is the f bomb. Whoops. I just couldn't believe how fast it all happened! It is 4:30am - I was in bed, fast asleep, not even three hours ago.
And now Toff is beside me, and there's a baby on my chest, and it starts to cry. And I look to see if its a boy or a girl, but the umbilical cord is tucked between its legs so I can't see anything. I'll just look again later. It doesn't matter anyway. We have a baby. And it's here, and I did it, again. And fuck! Was that fast or what? And I probably laugh a little bit. But I don't remember if I cried or not. I don't think I did. I remember that I did with Trip. And in walks our midwife student who was supposed to be with us to help and to learn, but she didn't make it in time. And I take another look, and it's a girl. We have a daughter.
And I lift my shirt (didn't even have time to take it off!) and this beautiful creature knows exactly what to do, and she starts to nurse. And we sit like this, Toff and me and our daughter, for a couple of hours. And Bet brings us tea and toast and it's the best toast I have eaten in my entire life. At some point they take the baby over to weigh her - 7 lbs 9 ozs, or 3.2kgs - and make sure everything looks okay. And it is, she is perfect. And I go take a shower, and climb back into bed with my beautiful baby.
We name her Margaret, after Toff's grandmother, and we plan on calling her Meg. And we choose Adele as her middle name, for Adelaide, so that she always remembers where she comes from and all of the people there who love her, no matter where life brings her.
And that's it. Our midwife leaves around 6:30, after thanking us for giving her such an easy job to do. She'll come back later in the afternoon to fill out the discharge paperwork so we can go home - making our roundtrip journey to the hospital to get a baby take less than twelve hours. Toff goes off to find some breakfast and I curl up in bed with this beautiful creature beside me. She is sleeping, so I sleep too.
Around 10:00am Toff's mum comes in with Trip, so he can meet his baby sister. I make sure not to be holding her, so that the first thing he sees is me, just me. And he comes to sit with me in bed, and Toff brings over this little baby, all bundled up, and Trip giggles, and says "baaby!" And my heart... it melts.
And Jen asks for her name, and for some reason, now is when I start to cry.
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