A Birth Story- With Poop
So....I know a lot of women worry about pooping in labor. In class I just tell everybody to accept that they will even though not everybody does. I get many birth stories, and I think that most people edit out this "pooping" from their birth stories, (I sure did.) But I wanted to share this birth. It is a great one with lots of detail, and I love that the mom is open about this aspect of birth. Yes, women poop in labor sometimes.
The end.
Enjoy~
The Braxton Hicks started pretty early
on in my pregnancy, but for a long while, I wasn’t even sure that
they were Braxton Hicks. They felt like the baby was trying to push
out of my belly like The Hulk, and my stomach would get hard and
square, as if four limbs were pushing outward at the same time. As
the weeks went on, these would occasionally become more intense.
Then, they felt like a small child was swinging their entire weight
off my belly; tremendous downward pressure, along with the square
belly. A couple of friends saw me when these were happening and told
me that my eyes would glaze over as if I left the room momentarily.
The late afternoon hours and dinnertime often included some of these
woozy, hard-bellied moments. The baby was moving very low in my
pelvis. At the 37 week appointment, I was measuring 2 weeks less
than I had the week before. The midwife felt above my pelvic bone
and said, “this is neck,” meaning the baby’s entire head was
already in my pelvis.
Apart from that, I had no signs of
things “getting moving” until just before Thanksgiving. My 39th
week was pretty sleepless. I would have one minor contraction at
some point in the night, and then I would lie awake hoping that more
would come. They never did! On the Monday night before
Thanksgiving, I woke with small contractions three or four times.
The next morning, I had some mucous plug with a slight tinge of pink.
I was really hoping this would get things started because my parents
were driving up the following day. No dice. My parents arrived on
Wednesday. On Thanksgiving night, 4 more contractions woke me up.
Friday morning, I had more mucous plug with a bright red spot.
Nothing more on Friday or Saturday. I am now one week late and my
family was headed home. Both sad and stressed out.
I took a bath that evening and had a
mini-breakdown. I was very worried about going as late as my mom and
sister had with multiple children: 3 weeks! I wasn’t sure that I
could handle 2 more weeks of baby growing in my belly. Kev kept me
company. He did as many acupressure points as he could find on the
Internet. He left to go put Kendall to bed and I headed up to our
bedroom.
When he came back, we “hung out” for additional labor
starting activities. At 10:30pm, my mom called to say they had made
it home safe. I watched the news up until the weather report and
then fell fast asleep around 11:20pm. Ten minutes later, I woke up
with a sharp contraction pain in my lower belly. Then, WHOOSH. I
hollered for Kevin.
My water broke in a BIG WAY. He ran and got 4
towels. Even after 4 towels were drenched, I was sitting in a 2 inch
puddle on our bed. The $40 waterproof mattress cover I got at Sears
4 years ago saved our Tempurpedic. Kev ran to our linen closet for
more towels; he lined a path from our bed to our bathroom. And I
went into the shower.
At this point, Kev called our midwife
to let her know that my water broke, but I wasn’t having any
contractions yet. They didn’t start for about 30 minutes. When
they started, they were what I would categorize as “not bad”. I
definitely noticed them, but they weren’t unbearable. However,
they were CLOSE together.
They started out being 3 minutes apart.
Zero to 60 in a few minutes. Kev called the midwife back after about
3 of these. Since I categorized them as mild, and I had been having
so many Braxton Hicks, she said to call her back with a status in one
hour. Kev grabbed a notepad and our bedroom alarm clock and started
tracking my times. We headed down to our “birth suite” in the
basement. It was 12:15am.
Once we were in the basement bathroom
and I had on my tankini top from Kendall’s birth, things really
started to take off. The contractions were starting to get intense.
I had to grab the door frame of the bathroom. I filled the bathtub
to the same level that I was “allowed” to labor with Kendall at
the birth center and hopped in. I was sitting straight up with my
knees out and my hands directly behind me on these arm rests that
descend into our soaker tub.
I started having to do my low hum noise
through the contractions. Kev went to get my yoga pelvic swing. He
hooked it to the two eye hooks we installed in the beams above the
soaker tub; we had removed the dropped ceiling tile to access the
best supports. When he got that hung, he continued diligently
recording times; the contractions were 3-3.5 minutes apart. I would
push down on my hands to raise my bottom slightly and imagine my
uterus pushing the baby down at the same time.
It reminded me of
something my college dance company’s choreographer told us: “push
down to go up, and push up to go down”. She was talking about
plies and jumps. To get the highest jump, you need a deep plie ->
push down to go up. I was doing the reverse: to get the baby down, I
needed to push up. And MAN did I do a LOT of tricep presses.
By
1:10am, Kev was ready to call the midwives back. He gave her the
update and she asked if I could talk through the contractions. He
said, “definitely not” and I heard her say, “I’m on the way!”
and hung up quickly. Kev continued to track for several contractions
until I pointed out that he could probably stop now as I was
definitely in labor. He said it made him feel like he was doing
something, but he did put the Sharpie down!
It was around this time that I needed
his help anyway. I needed his hands on my hips for counter-pressure.
We tried having him sit on the back of the tub, but that wasn’t
working. He ended up kneeling by the soaker tub, leaning his whole
upper body across the 8 inch lip, and putting his hands on my hips.
We tried a couple of different hand positions until he hit the spot
that helped the most. At one point, he was adjusting his hands
DURING a contraction and I might have gotten a bit snippy. Ow.
[Apparently, the hand position I chose was excruciating to his left
hand. He said he had to meditate to keep it still during
contractions for the remaining 3 hours! Luckily, he got a few
breaks…]
During the downtime between contractions, Kev would sit
on Kendall’s step-stool and we mostly stayed quiet. He did try to
convince me that we should call our friend Britt. I told him to set
an alarm on his phone for 6am because Kendall normally doesn’t get
up before then. Why bother Britt if we don’t have to? He set the
alarm. It was 1:30am.
The next 30 minutes got interesting.
The contractions got more intense. My humming got a little louder.
I had to visualize my uterus squeezing the baby out like a tube of
toothpaste. Then, I had to use the bathroom. BAD. I filled the
toilet. Not exaggerating. I’m not sure how there was anything
left in my colon. [There was. Yes, this is foreshadowing.]
On the
way back in to the tub, I thought… “Why not try some other
positions? See how they feel?” The first one I tried was standing
next to the tub, leaning over on it. No, definitely not working.
Then, I got in the tub again, but turned over on hands and knees.
Yowser, definitely NOT working. I ended up back on my bottom,
pushing off the arm rests. Suddenly, I got this really queasy
feeling. I told Kev I was going to vomit.
Keep in mind, there was
only a few minutes between contractions at this point. Kev quickly
hands me a trashcan (with stuff still in it) and I threw up a few
times. I hand it back to him and without thinking, he dumps the
whole thing in our toilet!! Then, realizing what he just did, he
starts fishing out the items. With his hands!
I am about to have
another contraction and I’m yelling at him to wash his hands
IMMEDIATELY so that he can get the counter-pressure back on my hips.
He makes it half way into the contraction. I was less than pleased,
and I’m pretty sure I swatted his hands off because it was worse to
add them after the fact. But, then it was over and we were back in
business with our routine.
About this time, Kev starts begging me
to call Britt. It was about 1:55am at this point, and he tells me
that sometimes Kendall wakes up around 2am. He’s worried about it.
I let him call. Apparently, Britt was lying in bed awake because
she “had a weird feeling” that something was going on. She
answered before one ring! Britt heads over and we ask her to crawl
in Kendall’s trundle bed in case she wakes up. At around 2:15am,
we hear our door open and walking. The footsteps go upstairs, so we
know it’s Britt.
At 2:30am, the first of the midwives
arrives. She comes over and touches my arm gently. Then, she starts
to fill the tub more. Oh yeah! I’m not under hospital policy!
The water can go up over my belly! At some point, she asks me gently
if I want to try standing up or hands and knees. We let her know
that we tried those already and I didn’t enjoy them. She said that
I should keep doing what was comfortable and made one additional
suggestion that I pull back on my knees.
I yanked my feet up more
towards my bum and then continued to do my tricep presses off the arm
rests. I asked her if the baby would come down this way? And she
said that the baby most definitely would come down that way. I was
doing great. During this time, around 3am, the other two midwives
arrive. One of them peeks in and turns out the light. Ooo, that is
nice. Why didn’t we think of that?
She also asks if the pelvic
swing is some sort of horse device. We had to explain that it’s
for yoga! I hear them setting up items in the other room, but they
are extremely quiet. Kev and I are still debating on who arrived 2nd
and who arrived 3rd -> they didn’t talk and were so
respectful! It was like they weren’t even there. The only reason I
knew that the third midwife was there is because she came in to check
the baby on Doppler once or twice.
We were clicking along. The
contractions were getting REALLY painful. I kept whining
pathetically during my rest time, saying that I missed my bag of
waters. With Kendall’s delivery, my water didn’t break until I
was 10 centimeters. It is a big difference having that cushion!
With this delivery, I could literally feel body parts moving
downward.
The contractions seemed to vary in intensity with the big,
hard ones being the ones where I felt the downward movement of baby
parts. In a way, it was consolation for the pain to feel the
progress! I would do my best to hum, make horsy noises, shake my
lips – anything to keep my face relaxed and my brain concentrating
on something other than the squeeze.
Then… Kev’s cell phone
rang. He jumped up to get it, but I was PISSED. He was petrified
that it would be his brother (on West Coast time) and that I would
fly out there and murder him. But, it was a wrong number. Still,
that next contraction was incredibly painful. Note to self: in your
best interest NOT to get pissed during childbirth. HA! [Funny
sidebar: the wrong number had apparently called when I was in the
shower at midnight, too. And then again later at 6am. It was some
drunk guy trying to reach his mother. He called AGAIN on Monday,
when he wasn’t drunk, and my husband got to chew him out for
interrupting my labor. PAH!]
During this period, the midwives told
Kev that if he wanted a break, they could do the counter-pressure for
a while, but he declined. It would have been more frustrating for
him to watch me in pain if he couldn’t help me. Even if that meant
his left hand would go numb! It was now 3:30am. Things were about
to get interesting.
The contractions were so intense that
in the middle of my deep, chesty hum, I found the need to make “that”
face – the one a toddler makes in the corner of a room before
denying having to go potty. The midwives immediately picked up on it
and told me that if I needed to bear down, that I should go ahead and
do it. From here on out, I had to bear down at some point during
every contraction. The sensation was just overwhelming.
At the same
time, I didn’t feel like I was at the point of pushing. With
Kendall, my transition was just back-to-back-to-back contractions.
With these contractions, I felt like I was still getting a decent
break in between. The contractions themselves were long and brutal,
but I had rest time. I voiced my concern that I didn’t feel I was
getting close and they REALLY hurt. The midwives told me that with
contractions this intense, that I was definitely getting close and
that I was doing fantastic.
They said to take one at a time. I
said, “I think I want to get checked, but at the same time I
don’t.” I wanted to know… but if it was bad news, I didn’t
want to know. One of the midwives went to go grab some surgical
gloves. This was the FIRST time that any of the midwives had seen my
vagina and/or examined my cervix. Cervical checks will tell them
nothing about when I will go into birth or how fast I will dilate
once I’m in labor, so why bother? It only serves to either make
the mom feel anxious or get her hopes up. The midwife let me know
that I was fully dilated and a +2. I asked her if that meant I had a
lot more to go? She said that crowning is a +4, so no, I’m almost
there!
And then, it happened. I had a DOOZY
of a contraction with this CRAZY urge to push down as hard as I
could. And my colon complied. Yes, I made poop soup in the soaker
tub. The midwives and Kev started scrambling. He’s running
upstairs for my pasta strainer (ACK!) I am yelling, “This is
gross! This is gross! Just drain it!” The midwives are scooping
out and draining. There is a lot of poop. The contractions are
still coming and without the water, they are just miserable.
I am
moaning, groaning, screeching like a wild animal. Shaking my face
and blowing bubbles like I’m doing my own Exorcist movie. I am
still having to bear down with each contraction, so I’m
intermittently yelling, “There’s more poop! There’s more
poop!” So, they aren’t refilling the tub. At some point, I had
Kev tell them how to get the shower nozzle down and they are spraying
out the tub, spraying my bottom, spraying everywhere. I look over
and Kev is using Clorox wipes in the tub I’m sitting in. I tell
him loudly to stop since going from sitting in poop to sitting in
bleach does not sound all that appealing. The midwives get
everything sprayed down and they refill the tub. I am still having
crazy and long contractions, but at least the water is back!
After several more long ones, I hear
one midwife come back into the bathroom. She tells me that I need to
stand up and grab my pelvic swing. I say, “No, no, no, no, no, no,
noooooo”. She says, “You are going to get this baby out soon.
You have to stand up. Say yes to this.” She didn’t really mean
“say yes”. She meant “believe you can”.
And it hit me that
she was totally right. If there are two more inches and then hard
tub underneath me, this baby can’t come out where I am. So, I
stand up, whining the whole time. They want me to grab the swing
with my arms, but I know that I have been doing tricep presses for
the last 4 hours and I have no arm strength left. Instead I go in
front of the swing, so that it is running across my upper back and
then loops under my armpits.
And I hang. I hang from my shoulder
blades and bear down with every contraction. The midwives are
saying, “That’s great! Good job!” The sensation to bear down
is getting even more pronounced. I found myself swinging my feet out
of the tub and onto the rim, so that my toes were touching the wall
of the shower. I am hanging there with my feet up on the shower
wall, pushing the baby out with all my might. It kind of resembled
the stirrup pose you see in the hospital, except turned 90 degrees
upright so that gravity was helping!
The midwives start saying,
“PERFECT!” I feel one of them come up behind me and put
counter-pressure on my perineum. I hear another one telling Kevin
where to put his hands. I am bearing down like you wouldn’t
believe with each contraction. I hear the third midwife tell me to
let my body lead, to go slow. And I try. I try so hard to go slow,
but I am so ready to be done! I just can’t! I can’t go slow. I
push as hard as I can for as long as it feels like I should. And
then I feel the baby’s head coming out. The baby is on its way
out. I DID IT. I am so relieved. It is 4:25am. The baby is born!
I put my feet back down in the tub. I
stop hanging from the pelvic swing. The midwives help me back into a
lying down position in the warm water. Kev, who is holding our baby,
told me that he had to kneel by the toilet to “follow me” down,
since the cord was so short. The midwives wipe the baby down (more
on this later).
They help me lift my left leg and pass the cord
underneath so that they can place the baby on my chest. It is right
THEN that I see the testicles and penis coming in front of me. I
say, “It’s GRAYSON!” I look at Kev. He is bawling. He is
also saying, “I can’t believe it’s a boy. I can’t believe we
have a son.” He looks like he’s in shock! Grayson is placed on
my chest and he’s making the most adorable little coo noises. He
doesn’t cry. The cord is really short and it is kind of pulling up
on my vagina. I tell the midwives that my bottom hurts. They go get
a towel and put it in the tub under my bottom. We all wait for the
cord to stop pulsing.
While we are waiting, one midwife
starts explaining that he came out with his forehead first. It is
swollen and bruised. Kind of like Frankenstein! He was also
sunny-side up. She takes some pictures of us lying there.
Intermittently, the other midwives are doing Apgar stuff on the baby
(right on my chest the whole time). We also chat about cleaning up
the baby -> he came out covered in vernix. Really thick vernix!
Kev said ½ inch in some places.
The midwives said that all his
other signs pointed to being a “fully-baked,” on-time baby, but
the vernix was really unusual for a full-termer. I guess he was
trying to keep his skin from pruning up in all that water I had for
him. I stay in the tub for 45 minutes! The cord pulses for that
long. Finally, Kev gets to cut the cord and I get to stand up. I am
covered in vernix. The tub is covered in vernix. The midwives want
to clean me up, so one climbs on the tub to remove the pelvic swing.
And then they start showering me down again. And start wiping down
the tub.
I am not dripping that much blood, so I
think I am in-the-clear on tearing. But the midwife tells me,
cautiously, that she is going to check my lady parts when we get all
clean. They grab a pad to hold between my legs and we make the walk
around to my fold-out couch bed, aka post-partum headquarters. The
news is not so good… stitches for me! I get local, but it is
still ouchy. UGH, the pressure on my sore bits. I really can’t
stand the stitching up part.
Both kids required 5 or so - Kendall’s
were deeper and more dramatic with the blood loss, while Grayson’s
were all at the edge and barely any bleeding. While they are
working, Grayson and I are getting started on our latch technique.
He was clearly used to sucking his little fist because he keeps
trying to get at it. He tries to latch and looks as if he’s
thinking, “What is THIS thing? It’s not hard like my fist!
Where’s my fist?” But once he gets a good deep latch, he starts
sucking away. It took him about 8 hours before he was like, “Oh
yes. This, this nipple thing, it IS the thing I want! Not my fist!”
When everything is all done in the nether regions, the midwives
helped me get dressed and comfy. Then, they do some more checks on
Grayson, including taking his weight. They were shocked when it said
10 pounds, 10 ounces! They had delivered another 10.5 pound boy
earlier in the week who was built totally different. He was a little
chubster, while Grayson is not that chubby at all. [My dad said,
“You’re not a watermelon!”] Grayson just has a really long and
strong body and tiny little legs.
At this point, it is around 6am.
Britt didn’t have to come over after all! The midwives stay for
another 45 minutes or so. They clean up, throw laundry in, help me
go to the bathroom, and clear out all the trash/supplies. Britt
wanders down a little after I am cleaned up and gets to see the
little guy and give everyone hugs. The midwives head home and we
chat for a while.
At 7:30am, Kev heads up to get Kendall.
Britt waits in the door of our post-partum headquarters with both my
camera and our flip video. Kendall is totally confused. As far as
she knows, she went to bed and woke up. She knows nothing about the
in between and hasn’t even see any midwives. She just sees Ms.
Brittany standing in her basement with a camera. Her look in these
pictures is priceless.
She tentatively comes into the room. And
then it hits her what has happened. She is so excited. She comes
scampering into the room to meet her baby. Britt takes a bunch of
pictures of our little family and then heads home to her family. Kev
sends his regrets to Bob that he won’t make the flag football
play-off game at 10am. HA! And that is our birth story. We
couldn’t be happier.
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