Woke up at 3:50 a.m. to a low-pitched sonic boom kind of pop. I lay in bed for a second, wide-awake yet not quite comprehending. Soon I realized what was happening, uttered a few choice words, and waddled quickly to the bathroom. I sat in the bathroom in disbelief for a while then decided to wake hubby to warn him. Somehow, at the time, it made sense to me that I should wake him up in order to tell him to go back to sleep so he could be rested up for later. LOL He stayed up with me until 5:00 a.m. or so talking. We figured we were in for the long haul, as me and my family are known for long labors--very few under 24 hours.
He went back to bed. (The kids and I sleep in one bedroom. Steve sleeps in another bedroom because he works strange shifts and wouldn't get any rest otherwise.) I planned on trying to get some sleep myself but it didn't happen. Contractions immediately intensified after Steve went to bed. Isaac, the newly 4-year-old, woke up around 6:00 a.m., excited about his birthday. I told him that the baby would probably be coming on his birthday. He got a huge grin on his face and said, "I TOLD you so, Mom!" LOL He had been telling us for weeks that the baby would be born on his birthday and that it was going to be a boy.
I think it was around 7:00 a.m. or so that I sent Isaac in to wake up Steve, as the contractions were getting even more intense and back labor was kicking in high gear. Cody, our 6-year-old son woke up about the same time, probably from the noise I was starting to make.
For the next couple of hours, Steve was in a million different places at the same time. He had make the cakes the night before (since I didn't) so he hadn't had much sleep between getting home from work after midnight, making the cakes, and me waking him up. I am still amazed at how he was able to do everything he did that day--and cheerfully, too! He made the kids breakfast, brought out birthday presents, birthday cake, we sang happy birthday to Isaac, and a thousand more things. Still, I don't think he missed one single contraction that I called him for! He would be right there, rubbing my back, applying counter pressure, making sure I had food and drinks, etc. Incredible!
Contractions had been coming every 1-2 minutes since about 5:00 a.m. and I was getting exhausted. (It had been a very stressful time during most of this pregnancy and I hadn't slept much for months. Not a good set up for being energetic.) I hopped into the bathtub after Steve placed a plastic lawn furniture footstool in the tub. We have a detachable showerhead that worked wonderfully at helping through some of the back labor. I must have stayed in the tub an hour or so using that showerhead. I started pushing a little at that point because it helped with the pain. I didn't push very hard as I thought I was still hours away from the birth and didn't want to swell my cervix to the size of a watermelon.
At this point, I started singing, making up goofy songs, etc, to help me through contractions. This really did help me keep control for a while. Also, hearing the kids playing with the birthday presents and the normalcy of life going on around me was very comforting! Finally, things got too much to handle--couldn't get comfy in the tub, I HAD to squat from here on out and the tub just wasn't big enough for what I needed. We headed back into the bedroom. Forgot to mention here... Baby was posterior all along until some point later in tub-time when I felt back labor stop suddenly--he turned! Woo-hoo!
It gets a blurry for a while here. Kids playing. Me making noises. Kids hugging me. Steve being everywhere all at once. Me seriously wondering if Steve had a secret twin brother he had brought in without my knowledge. Me starting to make remarks about wanting drugs for the pain. (I didn't really want them at the time but found it a funny thing to say.) I couldn't bear to be in any position other than squatting and slightly forward-leaning during contractions. Getting really exhausted and needing to sleep between contractions but they were never spaced far enough apart to rest.
It must have been about 10:00 am when I really lost control. (I had told Steve in advance that he was to have the final word on transport if I lost it at any point. I had gone over transition and signs, etc, before so he knew what was going on.) I started screaming through contractions now, leaning on Steve. He had to hold me up in the squatting position that I needed as I was too weak to hold myself up. I started asking for drugs in earnest at this point. I begged him to call 911 or go find the neighborhood drug dealer so I could get some relief. I couldn't see how I could go on for another 12-20 hours like this. (Little did I know that Charlie would whoosh out soon!) So much emotionally was going on now. I can't even find a way to put it into words yet. Anyway, I found that letting my fear and exhaustion out by telling Steve my need for drugs and that I couldn't go on and having complete faith in him--well, hard to describe but it helped me stay slightly sane. I didn't ever want to go to the hospital, didn't want him to call 911--just wanted drugs! I was serious in my wanting him to go find the drug dealer that often lurks in our neighborhood! LOL Gotta' love the logic of transition, huh?
I remember my lowest point during transition, begging him, searching his eyes for something that I needed, and finding it right there!! It was the most incredible experience! No words he said, no actions done, nothing but whatever that was that I found in his eyes at the exact right moment. Brings tears to my eyes thinking back to it. I swear we were one person then--he took on my pain and gave me all of his strength. Maybe he doesn't realize what he did then, after all it wasn't a conscious thing, but my God! Never again will I look at him the same. I saw into his soul, I swear. Too much emotion for me to describe accurately.
It's now about 10:30 a.m. and all of a sudden, there was a push. It wasn't a need or urge to push, it just was. I pushed and yet, I didn't push. I was suddenly inside the birth canal with the baby. There was no more outside world. Mid-push, I felt the head moving down the canal, saw the head moving down the canal from where I was inside myself. I stopped the push with all my might. "Oh my God! There's a baby in there and it's coming out!" I was suddenly in denial. A split second later, many thoughts later, "Well, DUH! What do you think it is, you moron?? Of course it's a baby and, of course, it's coming out!" Wondering to myself, "Crowning now. What is crowning? Baby coming at cervix? Baby at perineum? Baby at anus?" Pushing resumes after the longest split-second break in the history of the world. Baby whooshes out. I see hands catching his head, supporting his neck, easing him to the ground. I hear the sound of a baby crying its first breath as it comes out. I see a baby laying on its side on the ground and suddenly my hands are all over it, rubbing it, caressing it, trying to drink it all in with my hands.
My mind finally decides to let reality inch back in. I want to place him on my stomach but am unsure of the cord length and I am still stuck in that squatting position. I ask Steve whose hands caught the baby? Was it him? I saw hands catching but was unsure whose they were. It was me! I did it! He was too busy holding me up and was afraid, I think, that I would fall over if he let go.
Somehow, I ended up on the bed, with baby on my stomach and chest, covered with a soft, flannel pillowcase that happened to be handy. I had some pretty intense contractions waiting for the placenta to arrive. I started to wonder if there really was another baby in there! LOL Placenta finally arrived around noon. It felt huge coming out. We left the placenta attached until 5:00 p.m. that evening when Steve and Isaac finally tied and cut the cord together.
