Sunday, August 23, 2009

Birth Story, Part 3

Click for part 1 and part 2.

Where were we? Ah, yes, the end of transition. So I was in lots of pain. Truly bad pain. And finally I thought I had to go to the bathroom and not to pee. So I kicked everyone but R and Elaine out. And sat down on the toilet and nothing happened. At this point I figured I must be close.

I got naked and got back in the tub. At this point I decided that since nothing much was happening I would speed things along by pushing.

I’m not sure if I did anything or caused anything but I did start pushing. Then about 5 minutes later I told Elaine that I felt a burning sensation in my hooha, which apparently is referred to as the ring of fire and is a sign that the baby is crowning. I didn’t realize that at the time but I figured it was close.

I remember saying to R and Elaine that the baby was coming and jumping up on my feet into a crouching position. Not sure why.

Elaine and R were filling up the bath and I kept telling Elaine that it was too hot and finally I just turned off the hot water and just let the cold fill the bath. (Wow that’s a long sentence.) Then Elaine came back in and asked me if everyone else could come back in and be in there for the actual birth. I so didn’t care at that point. So the room filled back up with my Mom, stepmom, R’s Mom, my other sister and my Dad stood in the doorway (I was naked so he didn’t come all the way in.)

Betty was now back in the room and by the tub with me. And I still had no desire to push but I was pushing. Then the baby really crowned and I started to get an idea of what it was going to feel like to push a child out of my body. And I decided I wasn’t going to push.

If you haven’t had a non-epidural (I’m pretty sure, but not positive, that you can’t really feel if you have an epidural) vaginal delivery, let me paint a picture for you. First of all you feel like your entire bottom half is going to split open. It’s a burning, stretching sensation that is un-Godly painful. And you have to pull your knees back to your ears and hold your breath and let it out slowly and push, push, push. It’s soooo not fun.

But seeing as how I had no can’t-fight-it need to push, I didn’t. I downright refused. Betty would say, “With this next contraction I want you to push big.” And the contraction would come and I would just sit there. Or I would barely push. Or just kinda try to relax and see if maybe the baby would just fall out.

Finally after taking a lot of abuse from various people in the room (mainly Betty who was going the tough love route with me), I started pushing. And everyone was yelling, “Oh, I can see the head, she’s right there.” But not much was happening. So Betty tells me to reach down and feel my baby. This was probably a mistake. For some ridiculous reason I thought I had delivered part of the head (*shrug*), so when I reached down and realized she was still completely inside me. . . oh good Lord. Horror. I was not happy.

But then I figured there was no way out of this thing. That baby was coming out and the only exit, quite unfortunately, was my hooha. So I decided to really push and I did. Twice.
On the second push, she came out. All of her. You know how usually in births they deliver the head and then the top shoulder and then the other shoulder and then the body. We skipped all that and she shot out like a freaking bullet. Which at the time seemed freaking great. You know, like, thank God that’s over. However it turns out shooting out like bullets causes very bad tears which sometimes don’t heal right. But that’s another story.

Once she was out Betty put her on my chest and put a towel over her. Then everyone started yelling, “What is it Carrie? A boy or a girl?” I didn’t even look. This is how sure I was. I just announced, “It’s a girl!” And it was. My precious perfect daughter made her grand entrance in grand style. And it was and is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me.

No comments: