Ashley’s birth story (not yet fully completed)

The labour, delivery, & hospital stay associated with…
The birth of Ashley Violet.  
I have to get this down before I forget tiny details.

The contractions started in my sleep Saturday morning. I woke up at 7 and realised they were faint contractions, different to other activity I had felt previous (and then realised they had been occuring while I slept). Jake and I woke up together, I got a notebook and started writing down the times. All day they were roughly 10-20 mins apart, and not painful in any way. We had told Lisa, Jake’s mum/ our ride to the hospital, in the morning so she kept checking on us all day. We went to bed at about 10pm, with Lisa knowing I’ll call her when I need her.

I woke at about 1am to rather uncomfortable back cramps coming and going. I couldn’t stay still, they hurt! So I was slightly writhing in bed for the duration of each contraction. I timed them, and after about half hour of them being about 6 or 7 minutes apart, I felt I needed my ride and extra support person because who knows how quickly things would progress. I went to the bathroom (furthest place from the bedroom) at 1:30 and told Lisa to come over. Then I went back to bed, woke Jake up and told him his mum was on her way, and we tried to sleep some more, unsuccessfully. Too much discomfort/pain (although looking back, that pain was nothing).

Once sleep was obviously not happening, we got up, put the heater on (middle of the night in winter… it was cold!) and made some toast. First of 2 slices of toast I ate that day. Then we sat on the couch, resting but still awake, me timing each contraction, Jake pulling me into a sitting position (rather than reclined) so my back wasn’t touching the couch because that caused so much more pain.

At 3am, Lisa arrived. She seemed ready to go to the hospital RIGHTTHEN, but I told her (repeatedly, I think) that I didn’t need to go yet. I wanted to wait until I felt like I had to go, and my midwife Deb had told me to call her/get ready to go to the hospital when my contractions were 5 minutes apart, lasting about a minute each, and stay in that pattern for an hour. Every so often my contractions would get that close, but then I wouldn’t have another for 20 minutes.

So we snoozed on the couch. (picture taken at 6am)

Not much happened for the rest of the morning. Jake would run over to me whenever I was having a contraction, pull me into sitting or just hold my hands if I could move myself. At sunrise he went to bed to rest a bit, and I moved to the computer to try and pass the time. As I would feel a contraction approaching, I’d get up and waddle over to the bed, sit down next to an attempting-to-sleep Jake and put my back against him. It made them way more tolerable.

I tried to have something for breakfast, but I couldn’t even eat half a honey joy. Nothing seemed appetising and I couldn’t be bothered swallowing. I drank as much V8 juice as I could/wanted to (the fruit/veggie mix kind) so I could have some calories/energy in me.

By about 10, my contractions were slightly in the right zone. I was getting my lower back massaged through contractions whenever I could, but I still wasn’t "hospital ready" so I took a shower. A lovely, long hot shower. Jake stood in the bathroom watching me, timing the contractions (we were using the stopwatch feature on my phone, and then transfering the numbers to a notebook). Right from the start of the shower, he’d look at the stopwatch, see that 5 minutes was approaching, look at me and tell me that I was going to have a contraction. A few seconds later, I would. So once I was dry and dressed, I looked and noticed I had been having 5 minute contractions for almost 2 hours.

I called the doctor/midwife office, had to leave a message because it was the weekend and they weren’t open. When Deb called back, I was in the middle of a contraction, so she said "let me know when it’s over" and waited quietly on the phone. I really appreciated that, I could talk but I didn’t want to! Eventually I told her how regular my contractions were, and she told me to "come to the hospital and we’ll check to see how you’re doing" or something to that effect. Something that didn’t sound like she really believed I was in labour.

On our way to the car, someone (I later found out was our friend Kerry) yelled from the other end of the parking lot "Sarah! Are you going to have the baby?!" which really amused me.

Car rides are no fun when labouring in your back and you need pressure but can’t reach to apply.

Got to the hospital just after midday. I was SO HAPPY that Jake and I had previously visited the maternity ward, I knew how to get there. I didn’t want anything slowing me down at that moment. We walked in, they took me straight to a room, and the nurse asked my birthdate to confirm my identity (she then told me we had the same birthday. Pretty cool). As soon as I had changed into the gown, Deb (my wonderful midwife) showed up and checked to see how dilated I was. "Well done, Sarah!" because I was already 5cm. They hooked me up to the monitors (one that measured baby’s movement and the other measured contractions) but I ripped those off pretty soon after. I found out later that Deb said to someone "she doesn’t need the monitors, she clearly knows what she’s doing" which is just awesome. EVen though I didn’t hear those words, I felt that confidence in my ability from her.

We (Jake, Lisa and I) went for a slow walk around the ward. 2 or 3 times I had to stop walking and lean face-first on the wall so someone could rub/apply pressure to my back. Back labour is evil (not that I know what non-back labour feels like). One lap of the ward was enough for me, the contractions were getting too much, so we went back to my room and I resumed leaning on the sink. That sink was my buddy, and I refered to it as such multiple times. The counter was smooth, as was the transition to sink, and it was the perfect height for me to lean over and have my back rubbed.

At some point, Matt (Lisa’s husband) arrived.

Every time a nurse or someone would come in, they’d look at me and say "you’re still smiling!" but of course that was when there were no contractions. I was just so happy that I was going to have my baby, and that I didn’t have to be induced which I was so certain would happen (Mum had to be induced for all 3 of her kids).

I had a shower, Jake used the handheld shower head and sprayed my back during contractions while I sat and let the normal showerhead soak the rest of me. The water was as hot as I couldpossibly stand, but it didn’t do enough.

Every so often, Deb would come in and ask if I needed something like the birthing ball and although there was meds she kept suggesting other things. When the evening nurse came on duty the first thing she said was that I had to let her know asap if I wanted an epidural because I would need an hour to get a bag of fluids first. Lisa looked me in the eyes and said "you want the epidural" and so I just said okay. She was right, but at the time I felt great when there were no contractions, and when there were contractions I couldn’t think of anything at all other than "holy crap I’m in pain!" so I couldn’t form the thought that I wanted relief.

During that hour of getting the fluids, that nurse kept getting in the way. I was restricted to the bed, back on those bloody monitors (and my hand was actually bloody… getting the IV shoved in my hand made a mess, and then the tape to hold the thing in my hand held the blood on me for the whole time!) so every time a contraction came, Jake would grab my left hand, Lisa my right. They would pull me into a slightly sitting position and rub my back. The nurse watched this happen a lot, and then she’d start pulling me into the sitting position… but she wouldn’t do anything for my back, AND she would stay in the way so Lisa had to push her out of the way so she could help me.

I was freezing, pretty much the whole time I was in labour. I had 2 gowns, at least 2 blankets, and every time they had to take them off I got sooo cold. I don’t know why it was so cold in there.

The anaesthesiologist showed up while I was having a contraction, and he introduced himself and started talking about what he was going to do. I have no idea what he said, I couldn’t hear him and if I could, I couldn’t pay attention. Lisa and Matt left the room, Jake stayed with me. I had to sit up and have my legs resting on a chair next to the side of the bed. I had to stay REALLY still which was the most difficult thing ever, those contractions were incredibly strong, coming quite often, and it took all I had to not move, but I really didn’t want to move and have something mess up while a guy had a needle near my spine. He stabbed me with numbing stuff 3 times I think. He kept apologising and explaining that I had slight scoliosis so he couldn’t find the exact right place for the meds. Eventually that was over and I could lay down, but only my right side felt numb, so a pillow got wedged under my back and side. There was one contraction that happened at that point, so I only felt it on one side. That was weird. My left leg didn’t feel like it got numb, but when the anaesthesiologist got an alcohol wipe, it felt really cold on my arm but I could barely feel it on my leg.

Lisa and Matt were allowed back in, and we all just hung out.

There wasn’t much to do at this point but wait. The nurse actually had to ask Deb what was going to happen because she had apparently never dealt with someone fully dilated but the baby still in the bag of waters. Deb said just wait and let the bag/baby move lower and lower. My contractions weren’t close enough together, sometimes even 5 minutes apart, so I was given pitocin in hopes of getting the contractions closer together. Ashley would move around every so often, and then be calm. Every half hour the nurse would come in and up the amount of meds I was getting. We were all just chatting, posting things on facebook, taking pictures… there really wasn’t much to do.

I think Deb broke my water at about 8:30, but I realy have no idea. I do remember I felt a slight relief in pressure instantly, as though I was a balloon and I sprung a leak. I also remember her hands being covered in bloody goop after.
 
At about 9pm, it was time to start pushing. Jake was on my left side, the nurse was on my right. Lisa and Matt left the room. For each contraction, they would lift my legs up (I could slightly move my left leg, but the right leg was completely dead weight) and I was instructed to put my head to my chest and take a deep breath and hold it and push ("like you’re constipated but wanting to do a big poo") for 10 seconds, 3 times for each contraction. It was ridiculous, my face went bright red each time, I’m certain. I could feel it. I couldn’t feel Ashley exiting me, but I knew she was moving because of the feedback I was getting. Deb would tell me how good I was doing during and after each push.

When the head was crowning, Jake looked and said "it looks like a hairy meatball!" which made the nurse laugh. I was offered the opportunity to touch her head, but I didn’t want to. I was afraid that if I did, it would freak me out and the whole pushing thing would be that much harder.
 
The contractions were still a few minutes apart, or maybe just a minute, but it felt like a lot of time. Birthing was not exhausting. I think there was only maybe 6 rounds of pushing? It wasn’t very many until there was a baby out.

Ashley was placed on my belly, head pointing towards Jake. She pooped on my right wrist, right on my hospital band so I was left wearing poop until we left the hospital. I held her in place because I didn’t want her to fall. Jake kept coming up close to look at her, then quickly backing away saying "oh my god oh my god". I told him to touch her but he wouldn’t.

After a little bit of time passed, and the cord was no longer pulsing, Jake cut the cord and Ashley was taken away from me and put in the ‘panda warmer’ (that name amused me when I had noticed it earlier in the day). The baby nurse (we had one each!) guessed she weighed 7lb, she was only 1oz off so that’s pretty good. She was wiped down and swaddled and Jake was told he could hold her, but instead he stood over the warmer and just looked at her until I told him to pick her up and bring her over to me. So he sat down with her right next to me, so cute.

I think while Ashley was getting cleaned up, I pushed out the placenta. Jake and I both remarked how cool it looked, like a gross stingray, so Deb kept it within our view while she checked it, and she showed us the membrane that had been covering Ashley, and what her ‘view’ had been while in there. That was just gross and awesome, I’m glad we got to see that.

Jake held Ashley while I got stitched up – I got second degree tearing, whatever that means. Lots of tears, I’ll guess. She had to get more thread because the standard amount wasn’t enough.

The nurse catheterised me, which was fun. Actually, it was, because she had to get a second container. She got 1L of urine out of me, and she apparently didn’t know that a human bladder could hold that much. I like knowing I’m a bit of a freak, makes me proud. After she drained me, she offered to get me a turkey sandwich.

It took about an hour before I was stitched up, all the blood and other goo had been cleaned off the floor, and Lisa and Matt were allowed in the room to meet their grandaughter. They left between midnight and 1am, and the nurse brought Ashley to me so we could try and get her to breastfeed. A minute later she was taken away from me and sent to the nursery. 

At 1am, the night nurse came in and took me to the bathroom because the epidural had worn off so I could walk again. She showed me how to do the giant pad/icepack/witchhazel pads/numbing spray combination that I had to wear in my pants. I stood up and leaned against the shower wall while she pulled up the weird mesh underwear, and lifting my feet just enough for her to put them on me made me feel so very very weak. So weak that I didn’t register that that feeling meant I was going to pass out. Which is what happened on the way back to the bed. I remember standing there in the bathroom, and then I was on the floor just outside the bathroom door with a sore bum and there was a loud beeping noise going off. I guess there was a nurse-alert button or something? Once I was awake the nurse went to the computer and turned off the loud. I got Jake to lift me off the ground (Ashley had gone to the nursery to have a bath and get her hearing checked) and then I slowly moved back to the bed. Jake had gathered all our stuff from around the room because they wanted to move us to a new room, but we stayed in the birth room for a bit longer. At least this time I actually got my sandwich! I hadn’t eaten for probably 24 hours, I had lost blood, I had fucking given birth… and no one had brought me any food. I ate half the sandwich and drank an entire bottle of gatorade, then  2 nurses came in and helped into a wheelchair, rugged me up in blankets, and transfered Jake and I to a room on the other side of the ward.

I wanted to go to sleep once we got into our room, but I missed Ashley SO MUCH. At about 3 I asked when she was coming back, and they said she had had her bath but was still in line to get her hearing checked, there were 3 babies ahead of her. Why did they take her from me so soon then? I wanted to go home.

I didn’t sleep, maybe at all. Ashley was brought back to us in the middle of the night, and I just kept looking at her, all swaddled up and facing me in the bassinet thing. She spat up at one point (a tiny spot of green, I think she got a smidge of poop in her) and I bolted out of bed and over to her. Jake slept on the fold out couch next to us.

In the morning, Ashley’s doctor came to see her. She explained that the love-crab on her forehead was an angel mark and would likely go away by the time she is 2-3 years old. A doctor came in to see me, said I could go home as soon as Ashley was allowed to. The lactation consultant showed up, piled the pillows next to me so she could show me the ‘football hold’, threw the baby’s face on my boob, said if it hurt at all we were doing it wrong. She was in a rush because she had a meeting to go to or something, so she didn’t stay and let me work out how to move Ashley so she latched right, she just did it herself and left. She claimed she was going to come back after the meeting, but that didn’t happen.

Lisa came and spent the day with us. Nick came to meet his neice. They left when Ashley was acting hungry (every time she acted hungry I’d try and feed her, but she just wouldn’t latch on. The nurses kept coming in to check stuff and would ask if she just ate because she’d be laying in my arms and my boob was out, and each time I felt like a failure because she just wouldn’t eat!).

When we changed Ashley’s first diaper, neither Jake or I had an idea what we were doing, but I think we did pretty well. Of course, no one had told us that the thing her little bassinet was sitting on had drawers that were loaded with diapers and wipes, so I called the nurses station so they could get me some. I don’t know why they didn’t tell us. It was the same when I needed tissues, I had a bag full of stuff they had given me – tissues, toothbrush/paste, comb, moisturiser, etc. But I wasn’t in any state to investigate things. Why didn’t they tell me? I didn’t realise I had those things until I was packing up to leave the next day.

At 4pm we were told we weren’t allowed to leave that day because we had to wait until Ashley was 24 hours old so she could get some test done. I had wanted to go home the moment I was doing birthing her, and my doctor said he’d see if we could leave when he saw us in the morning, so that was a complete blow.

I spent all afternoon and evening crying. It was about time, first time I cried since before Ash was born. I had been rather calm when she popped out. No screaming while pushing, or contracting (the most noise I made was muttering "I can’t do this I can’t do this" or maybe a few swears under my breath… and that was the contractions not the pushing). The dinner they brought me was TERRIBLE, but the hospital is right next to the mall, so Lisa went and got us food from Bertucci’s. I had chicken and pasta and broccoli, it was so yummy.

That night, I couldn’t get her to stop crying. The nurses took her away for a bath and I felt like such an ass because I was glad she was gone and I could rest. I was exhausted and in pain and I didn’t know what I was doing. An hour or two of sleep fixed that terrible feeling, and I made sure once she was back to go over and look at her and touch her so I didn’t feel like I was abandoning her.

Tuesday morning, Lisa got to the hospital just after 8 because she knew I couldn’t cope there much longer. I was so glad to get out of there with my baby! We spent our first day at home just snuggling in bed, it was so lovely.