The Long Story of a Short Birth

Our little Kate has just been full of surprises from the very beginning. Back in November, we were surprised to even find out we were pregnant, and we were surprised this past Sunday when she entered the world so early and so very quickly.

Sunday morning I woke up at 7:30 feeling not quite right. . . a few symptoms that I remember feeling before Ethan was born, but hey, I thought, maybe it was the Mexican food and salad from yesterday. I got out the "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and decided I better freshen up a bit on what to look for when you go into real labor. At 8 a.m. I felt what I thought could be my first contraction. . . another at 8:20, another at 8:40. They were very light. . . they seemed like contractions, but not the kind that make you have to stop and concentrate. I got ready for church and mentioned it to Tim, and thought about how I should try to get my bag packed just in case. Getting ready for church took all my time, though, and we left at 9:30.

The contractions continued every so often during Sunday School and church, but they were still pretty light and irregular. . . sometimes 10 minutes apart, sometimes 30 minutes. I wasn't due until July 15th, and this was July 6th. Ethan was over a week late, and at my last appointment on Thursday, I hadn't even begun to drop or dilate or anything, AND I still was pretty small, according to my doctor and everyone else, so I was pretty sure Baby wanted to grow a bit more before coming into the world.

After church Tim and I picked up Subway, got home at 1 o'clock and I had another contraction. . . this one was a bit stronger--I had to concentrate and breathe through it. I thought about how you're not supposed to eat when you're in labor in case they have to do surgery or in case you have to throw up, but I was hungry and wasn't sure I was in real labor and figured if I was, I'd need to energy to get through the night. So I ate my sandwich.

1:20 another contraction came and went. We sat down with Ethan to read him his stories before his nap. I got a little teary-eyed thinking about how this could be our last time together without the "invader" coming in and changing everything. Before I left Ethan's room from his nap, I quickly packed his bag so it would be ready in case we had to take him to his Grandma and Grandpa's. I also started packing Baby's bag and my bag. I had to find that list of stuff to take to the hospital in "What to Expect."

At 1:40 another strong contraction came and I decided to start writing down the times and lengths of the contractions. I hadn't done this last time and I kept getting confused. Tim was downstairs watching Wimbledon and resting. . . church, reading stories to Ethan, and thinking about labor always wears him out.

As soon as I started writing down the contraction times at 1:40, they were all of a sudden five minutes apart. I kept concentrating and breathing through them, and thought about how it really isn't too bad yet. . . "just remember that they're only 30 seconds long and you can make it" I told myself.

By 2:30 I was pretty much packed, and I considered that maybe I needed to go for a walk, because if this wasn't the real thing, walking around would stop the contractions. I wasn't sure what to do because pretty much this seemed like the real thing, but other than the bm that morning, I didn't have any other signs of labor. . . I wasn't bleeding yet and it was just so darn early for me to be in real labor. I called the labor and delivery room to see what they thought. My doctor had said that I should go to the hospital when the contractions were five minutes apart for an hour, and it had only been 45 minutes. On the other hand, now they were 3 or four minutes apart. Labor and delivery said I should probably come in to be checked, and that I didn't have to be bleeding to be in real labor. I told her we'd see what happened in the next 30 minutes.

We decided we should call Karen to see if she could come over to watch Ethan. Thankfully she was at home and was at our house by 2:45. I gave her the instructions for Ethan and left a list of things that she should find in the house that I hadn't had a chance to pack. She gave me a hug and said she'd be praying for us. I cried a little. By this point the contractions were 3 minutes apart. As I got in the car, I realized I hadn't said good-bye to Ethan and considered rushing back in, but I didn't want to wake him up. Besides, another contraction started. It was about 2:50 when we left our house.

The contractions seemed to get worse on the way to the hospital. I thought it was because I was sitting down. Tim was speeding. . . I was clearly in pain. The contractions were now 2 minutes apart. That's the only time I let out an unrefined word during the entire process (as I recall, anyway). . . when another contraction hit right after I had just finished one. "S---! Another one!" I was mad because I wasn't ready for another one, because it hurt so much, and because I was afraid I wasn't going to get my epidural if things continued like this.

We got to the hospital around 3:00 p.m. and Tim offered to just drop me off while he parked. . . luckily there was a spot right by the doors. I started walking in while I was in between contractions, but I didn't make it far. I had to sit down for a break while Tim caught up with me. He offered to get me a wheelchair, but I thought the contractions were lighter when I was walking. He let admissions know we were there and they said to go right on up to Labor and Delivery. They didn't even offer to help! I sat down in a kid wheelchair--the only one that was there, but then reconsidered again and got up to walk. I really didn't know what to do because the contractions were almost constant by this point. I walked to the elevator, then another hit and I was on all fours when the elevator door opened. Four stunned people snuck out, everyone asking if I was alright. "My wife's in labor," Tim explained. I'm sure they could tell. It really was quite dramatic. Most women I'm sure make it at least into the hospital just fine, but little did anyone know that the baby was practically coming out by this point, so hopefully no one passed judgment on my tolerance of pain.

Some guy--a worker with the hospital--I don't know who he was or what his job is--an orderly? A nurse? No idea---he found a wheelchair while I tried to hurl in the garbage can. A few more people almost got on the elevator, but opted to take the stairs once they saw me.

We made it upstairs, they gave us a room and I called out that I wanted an epidural. The nurse said they'd check me first. I said I just didn't want to miss out on the window when I can get one. She assured me there'd be plenty of time. Then when she heard me moaning, she said something like, "I think you're really in labor." That was comforting because somehow I still wasn't sure. Well, by this point I was pretty sure that this was the real thing, but 30 minutes ago, I somehow couldn't tell.

They checked me. . . our resident was Dr. Zimmerman. I was already 9 cm dilated. The nurse went into power mode getting things ready. She told Dr. Z. that he needed to stay there and monitor things. . . he couldn't leave because she had things to do. The baby's heartbeat kept dropping way low every time I had a contraction. I wasn't sure if that was normal. It wasn't. . . they thought the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. I think that's relatively common. They had me turn to my side and that helped. Tim was rubbing my back and laying on the bed next to me and telling me to take long breaths through the contractions. He was wonderful. By this point they had told me that I wouldn't be able to have an epidural. I have never had the desire to endure natural childbirth. My friends Beca and Tera are all for it, and I just feel that drugs are the way to go to help a girl get through one of the most painful experiences known to woman. Recently I had considered that probably every woman SHOULD probably go through natural childbirth at least once, but I just wasn't interested. Thankfully Beca and Steve had filled me in on some of the techniques their classes had taught them about getting through the contractions and I also had the hope of knowing that this whole process wouldn't take much longer, so somehow I'd make it through.

Soon I felt like I needed to push. I made that announcement, and the nurse told me that I just couldn't push yet, and that was all there was to it. It either had to do with the fact that my body needed to get a bit more ready for the baby to come out, or that they were still waiting on the on-call physician to get there from the golf course. Once he was there, they had me start pushing and I felt like a natural at it. It was much "easier" doing this without an epidural, because I could actually feel what I was doing. One point for going au-naturale. During one contraction I cried out "I didn't want to do it this way!!!!" but everyone assured me I could do it, that I am a strong woman, that I'd make it just fine, etc.

In between the next contractions, I said hi to the on-call physician, and told him I know his son, Drew, and that he'd be in my class next year when he was in 7th grade. He told me that his wife had just taken them up to camp this weekend and I was like, "Oh, great! He'll love it there" (that's where Tim and I met, by the way). How I was able to fit in that pleasant little conversation, I'm not quite sure.

On the next push (I only had to do two, maybe three) I guess the baby came out. It was that simple. And then I felt great! They let me hold her for a few minutes. I was happy to see her, but mostly just relieved and surprised and rejoicing that she was out. What a wonderful feeling.

I had done it. . . natural childbirth. I don't know how anyone manages that for like hours and hours of labor and then pop out an 8 or 9 pound baby.

Kate was only 5 lbs. 10 oz. and her head looks tiny, so no wonder I had no problems. After they cleaned her up, they said her breathing was irregular, so they took her away to monitor her and help her out. Tim went along, so there I was with Shirley, our nurse, as she cleaned up. I talked to her a little. Those labor and delivery nurses are so nice.

After a while, Tim came back to show me pictures of Kate--that was nice since I had only seen her for a minute or two before they took her away. Then I had him give me my phone and I called my mom and a couple of my friends that I had seen at church that morning to tell them that we had had the baby.

We also called Karen to tell her. Gabe was at a movie and didn't even know that we were in labor before she was born!

Another odd scare was that Kate's temperature was really high for a while. The pediatrician explained to us that she should be put on antibiotics and that they'd most likely want to do a spinal tap. That sounded fine to me. . . I'm all about doing anything to make sure the baby's safe and healthy and that God will take care of everything. Tim asked them to take the temperature again, and this time it was much lower. This happened all evening. . . it fluctuated one reading to the next. The doctor said we must really be praying because he had no explanation for it. Since the temperature was regular after a couple of hours, they didn't do any antibiotics or other tests.

We had to stay at the hospital for an extra day so they could monitor her, but that was fine by me. I like having the nursery watch her for me so I can get some more sleep before heading home.

Well, thanks for reading Kate's birth story! Right before I had Ethan I was so sick of hearing people's birth stories!!!! That's just a cruel thing to do to any first-time mom days before she goes into labor. It's so different for everyone--no need to scare her even more with the unknown. But now that I've been through it, I love hearing other's birth stories.

I'm feeling good, albeit tired since Kate seems to be mixed up on her days and nights (why does that always happen?). I'll accept any advice on how to get that switched around, because I prefer sleeping more at night than during the day!!!