Conner's Birth Story (and it's a long one)

I have decided that it was time to write down my kids' birth stories before I get too old and forget.  So, here goes Conner's:  (spoiler alert:  It might be a little TMI for the faint of heart.)

We couldn't afford birth control for a couple of months what with Christmas break and all the bills that go along with it.  I must say that I was not super-disappointed by this as I had been lobbying for kids for years but my beloved husband kept saying things like, "Have you seen my sister?  Why would you deliberately do that to yourself?"  My sister-in-law was miserable when she was pregnant.  I saw that but I also saw her beloved little babies and darnit,  I wanted one.  Well, suffice it to say, when we were into the second month of no birth control, we were somewhat less than careful.  (Which means that we had not an ounce of prevention whatsoever for something for which there is no cure.)  ;)

Well, I found out I was pregnant and that my insurance did not cover pregnancies on the same day.  Lucky me.  I wasn't worried at first because I knew that my teaching job would kick in in August and I'd have insurance by the end of August.  I wasn't due until November so no big deal, right?  I called my doctor and she handed me the cup and I dutifully peed in it.  They did something mysterious in the lab and confirmed that, yes indeed, I was pregnant.  She recommended a great OBGYN that delivered all of her babies and she just loved her.

Here's where the story takes a turn.  I found out that OBGYN's are expensive and they don't see you on the promise that you'll someday have insurance.  No sirree they want to be paid upfront.  All $5,000 of it that they would graciously allow me to split into two payments.  We were in that weird spot in the middle where we made too much money to get help and not enough money to pay for anything by ourselves.  After calling around, someone at one of the places that said they couldn't help me suggested that I see a midwife until my insurance came through.

Huh.  A midwife.  The more I thought about the idea, the more I liked it.  I've always kind of leaned a little in the granola direction anyway so that actually held a kind of appeal for me.  Of course, being me, I had to do some research and found all of the stats showing that midwives are just as safe as hospitals etc. for low-risk pregnancies.  I talked it over with Lee for about two seconds and he kind of said, "It's your body so if that's what makes you comfortable, I'm cool with it."  (Lee has slowly started leaning a little in the granola direction, too.  The longer he's married to me, the more he leans.) So the upshot of it all is that I found out I was pregnant by peeing on the stick on Tuesday and by Friday I was touring the birth center that Lee's step-sister had used.

It was perfect for what I wanted.  It was an old Victorian home with a jetted tub and four poster bed and it was about a block from Baylor Medical Center and all of the shiny expensive equipment in case something went wrong.  I was concerned about that with this being my first pregnancy and frankly, the lack of pain medications (hereafter known as "drugs") scared me since I'd always considered myself a wimp about pain.

I got appointments starting at 8 weeks into my pregnancy and heard the heartbeat for the first time.  We went to childbirth classes once a week for 8 weeks and learned how to manage pain and what to expect in labor.  We made easy monthly payments until my insurance kicked in.  The whole idea of changing over to an OBGYN now that I had insurance never even entered my mind.  The childbirth classes had fully converted Lee over to the idea of a natural child-birth.  On the surface I was gung-ho but inside I was scared.  What if I couldn't do it?  What if the pain was just too much for me and I lost it?  What if I decided to waddle a block over to Baylor and demand that they "give me drugs stat!"?

By the time I got to 38 weeks or so I just didn't care anymore.  I just wanted it to be over.  I don't remember doing this but Lee said on the weekend before I gave birth I jumped up and down in the middle of our living room, glared at my protruding stomach and yelled, "Get out, get out, get OUT!"  It's kind of funny now but I don't remember laughing much at the time.  I was so huge I was sure I was going to go into labor early because surely I just couldn't last much longer.  That was dangerous thinking and someone should have warned me against it.  I had somehow decided that I would go into labor a week early.  When that ridiculously pie-in-the-sky I-must-have-been-dreaming due-date came and went I went into an emotional tailspin.  I was still working at this point teaching special education resource classes to some of the most wonderful children on earth and some who were... not so wonderful.  A week before my real due-date I called my long-term sub in and just started taking sick days.  I couldn't handle it anymore.

My due date approached and finally dawned with still no baby.  I picked my parents up at the airport and just resigned myself to being pregnant forever.  We went out to eat that night at a burger joint because by this time I had long given up on eating nutritious meals and just ate whatever tasted good.  We all stuffed ourselves to the point of being miserable and decided to go.

As I climbed out of the booth behind my husband I felt like something broke or tore inside and a trickle ran down my leg.  Yes, that's right ladies and gents I went into labor on my due date and my water not only broke before I went into labor (apparently that only happens about 20% of the time) but it happened in a public place. I should be on a sitcom. Unfortunately there was no handy jar of pickles sitting on the table at Red Robin.  I was mildly embarrassed but was so glad that I was finally going to have my baby that it passed pretty quickly.

I immediately called my best friend, Carol, to inform her that I had gone into labor (she also went into labor on her due date because we are just anal retentive prompt like that.)  I called the midwife once I got home and let her know that my water had broken but I wasn't having any real contractions yet.  She wanted to make sure that my labor got going since my water had broken so she suggested nipple stimulation.  I got off the phone and informed my husband about his chance to help the cause.  Ordinarily, he would have jumped at the opportunity but I think my parents being in the house made him shy.  :)  He did his part and 30 minutes later I was no longer wondering what real contractions felt like.

We got to the birth center and they checked to see how far along I was and then sent me to walk around the park for an hour.  I was at 4 cm dilated when we got there and after an excruciating hour of waddling around and around the park next door I was 5 cm.  I was ready to scream and throw things.  Surely all the walking should have accomplished more than that!!!

I was having back labor which I've heard is very painful.  I don't know if it's more painful than regular labor because both of my labors were back labor so I have no point of comparison.  I just remember going deep inside myself and finding areas of strength that I never knew were there.  I went to my place where pain was a quiet ocean and I just floated peacefully on top of it.  I visualized a valve in my feet and the pain just ran like water through my legs and out the valve.  I concentrated on nothing more than my next breath while I sang praise songs in my head. Between contractions I just tried to relax before the next one.

I finally asked if I could get in the bathtub. I sat in the tub of warm water and felt instant relief.  The water seemed to support and relax tight muscles and felt like heaven.  I still had to go to my happy place and open the pain valve in my feet but I didn't have to work at it so hard. I actually fell asleep and napped between contractions  Just when I was starting to think, "Ok.  I can do this.  It's obviously going to get much worse because this isn't so bad" it got worse.

Suddenly the pain was all new again and I was shaking and couldn't catch my breath and my contractions were no longer a silent ocean.  I yelled.  I moaned.  I roared.  Somehow it seemed to make it feel better to vocalize and boy did I vocalize.  Drugs started sounding REALLY good.  To hell with this natural childbirth crap.  Thank God for childbirth classes.  Because I'd dragged myself and Lee to 8 weeks of class, I knew to recognize the signs of transition and what it meant.  I could live through this pain because that meant that it was almost over.  I was almost there. If I survived just a little while longer the pain would be over.

The midwife came in and checked my progress again and, while she was getting her gloves on, casually asked if I felt like I might need to have a bowel movement .  I said, yes and she looked shocked.  "How long has this been going on?"  I couldn't answer her because time had really ceased to have meaning for me.  It was just about getting through the next contraction at that point.  She checked me and found that I had progressed from 5 cm to 10 cm in two hours and I'm putting the responsibility for that square on that lovely tub of hot water. It was finally time to push.

This was a new hell.  The midwife decided that I needed to squat to push.  She stated that first-time moms always hate to do this but I had to.  I gave it the old college try a couple of times and tried to tell her that it didn't feel right and this wasn't working.  She insisted I keep going.  In between contractions while I was resting on the floor I heard the midwife tell the birthing assistant to go inform my family that it would be another two hours.  In my head I thought, "Like hell.  I'm not doing this for another two hours.  You have another think coming lady."  I again tried to get out of pushing in a squat position but she kept saying no, I had to keep trying. Now, here's where the me who lives in the present looks at the past me and wonders why I wasn't more insistent.  I knew what was going on in my body and I knew that all of this effort wasn't getting the job done but I still didn't stand up to her.  To this day, I'm not sure why.  I guess it was because this was my first baby and I really did think that maybe I just didn't know what was going on.

After what seemed like an eternity,  I said again that this didn't feel right to me.  It felt like the baby was stuck and I didn't have energy for much more of this.  Eventually the midwife agreed to "let" me prop myself up in bed and push that way for a while.  Instantly I felt like this was working.  Conner was coming out sunny-side up so even though he was head down, he was facing the wrong way.  I think that perhaps this was why it felt like he was "stuck."  The new way of pushing might have just moved angles the right way so he moved into the birth canal easier.  I don't know.  After 5 hours of labor and  45 minutes of pushing and getting nowhere, I pushed my beautiful 8-pound-14-ounce boy into the world by sitting up on the bed like I'd wanted to do all along.

They placed him on my stomach and I looked down at his little face and said, "Hi McNugget."  We'd nicknamed him that before we knew if he was a boy or a girl and it kind of stuck.  To this day we often call him Nuggy or Nugget or Nuggetdoo or some other variation of the original "McNugget."  He moved his head toward the sound of my voice and looked up at me with his eyes open so wide and we just stared at each other for seemingly endless moments.  I can't even describe to you my feelings in those moments.  Probably the closest I could come would be to call it awe.   I was completely in awe of this little miracle.

Eventually Lee got to cut the cord and they wrapped him up and I held him while Lee held both of us.  He pushed my hair back and kissed my forehead and said, "You're so beautiful." and I knew he was lying because I looked like a hot mess but it made me all squishy inside just the same.

Within a couple of hours after I fainted in the shower, got tears sewn up and had to get catheterized (fun experience, that one) we got to go home with our new baby.  No three-day hospital wait or anything.   I looked down that afternoon and my feet weren't swollen for the first time in months.  Lee took Conner to the pediatrician where they pronounced him perfect with not a thing wrong with him and the adventure began.  Five years later I still can hardly believe that God has blessed me with such a wonderful little boy.