i didn’t enjoy my pregnancy, it wasn’t the life-affirming, light-filled experience the first one was, and that’s probably why i felt so jilted and jaded when, on may 21st at 2 am, a full 10 days before he was due, my pregnancy came to an end and the fourth member of our clan came screaming (me, not him) into this world, all 6 lbs and 14 oz of him.
pregnancy makes me feel like i’m fulfilling my purpose in life, to recreate. i make people, that’s my superpower.
i also discovered i can birth people without the benefit of clinical intervention and let me tell you, that is not something i recommend, unless you’ve prepared for it.
at about 11 pm on may 20, my water broke. i wasn’t expecting it, though the sweetest doctor offered me a stretch and sweep the friday before and, not knowing what the hell that was or would facilitate, i blindly agreed. cut to sunday and the braxton hicks i’d been experiencing decided they were going to be real, fully-fledged contractions.
did you know that when i went into labor with dylan i didn’t realize my water had broken, nor did i start contractions on my own? apparently, that’s called “silent labor” and about 6% of women experience it. i spent almost 9 months living in fear that i would go through that again, except this time i wouldn’t know and i wouldn’t happen to be near my family doctor for a convenient checkup.
for weeks i’d been poking at the other half, joking that, come time, i’d have to wake him up. guess what happened? first of all, he didn’t believe me but that happens, i’m sure, when you’re heavily pregnant partner shakes you in the middle of the night to tell you that her water broke and you’re going to need to get your shit together and drive. then he asked me if i had a microwave to track my contractions.
my current life goal is to be as zen as possible and i wanted to labor at home for a bit. that plan was derailed quickly. he was panicking – one of us had to, i suppose, and after a call to labor and delivery, we decided to make the 40 min drive along the county road with no lights lest we get stucky in a sticky situation.
at this point, i started feeling guilt and regret. my little dylan was fast asleep – we would be experiencing this huge milestone without her. in hindsight, i’m glad she wasn’t there because she would have been traumatized for lyfe. i kissed her forehead and admired her, the last few minutes of having an only child – something i hadn’t really thought about until the moment when it was too late to consider.
we drove in the dark, contractions hitting regularly but pretty far apart. we talked. we laughed nervously.
when we got to the hospital, i almost couldn’t get out of the car. it was like my body knew that we were in the presence of healthcare professionals and decided to ramp things up. i’m so glad we made it to emerge before everything literally went south, i was not prepared to have the baby in the front of our poop-brown van.
god bless my partner, he helped me up to l&d and chatted with the nurses while i got into a sexy hospital gown. “so, how long do you think it will take?” he asked. “could be 20 mins, could be tomorrow morning,” the nurse replied, nonchalant, as i made my way, bare-assed, through triage. i got comfortable on the stretcher, exhausted from being up for god knows how long.
they did a cervix check. 4 cm. fantastic.
i didn’t want to do the epidural. the last time i had it, the anesthesiologist (bless his little soul) went a little h.a.m. and i couldn’t feel my legs for nearly a full day after giving birth. once my contractions started coming a little too fast a furious, however, i practically begged through clenched teeth. the nurse said sure, but the anesthesiologist was in with a c-section. apparently, i would need to get blood work anyway, so i was destined to grin and bare it through the pain regardless.
“should i be timing the contractions?” SO asked.
“sure,” she said, and she disappeared somewhere beyond the curtain.
at this point, i am moaning as the waves of pain radiate throughout my body. i did not truly know what contractions were, nor have i ever experienced a pain quite like that. childbirth is indescribable. i don’t think i will be able to put in words what that feels like.
i became a feral animal, tears streaming down my face (or was that just sweat?). the once chatty nurses finally came to attention and returned to administer another invasive check of my cervix. 7 cm in less than half an hour. i believe their attitude went from, “damn, what a lazy evening,” to “oh, shit…”
that progressed quickly. at this point, every move was torture. i couldn’t get off the stretcher, so they wheeled me to a birthing suite.
i couldn’t even shift from the stretcher to the bed. they coached me (“you can do this!”), they practically begged (“you have to do this!”), but every movement was a fresh jolt of agony.
the nurses busied themselves, my SO held my hand or paced, i’m not sure, everything happened so fast. they wanted me to turn on my side but my body was stiff. i tried the gas but it did nothing. i couldn’t breathe because i couldn’t stop screaming, i felt wild with inability. you would think labor is something that comes naturally to women, we have been doing it since the dawn of creation… but the pain is so immense and i could focus on nothing else. i remember thinking, “i don’t know what to do…” and feeling completely out of control of my body, as if somehow i should have been more together physically. i wish i had asked them to help me to my knees, or to a position that was more conducive to pushing a watermelon out of a keyhole.
there was just enough time for the doctor to make it to the room, though i’m pretty sure i had to start pushing before she sauntered through the door. i’m still embarrassed to say that i screamed and screamed because i couldn’t cry. i felt so weak and useless. my SO held my hand and told me that i am strong. when i screamed that i couldn’t, he told me i could, that i was.
if you were to shove an american football through the hole of a party balloon and what that might feel like… that’s what it feels like.
at one point i wanted to yell for them to just cut it the fuck out of me.
and then he was on my chest and my whole body was shaking. they were pressing on my stomach, it was quiet, the nurses made a few jokes (my favorite being, “well we really dropped the ball on the pain meds…” ya think?) and all i could feel was embarrassed i hadn’t handled the situation more stoicly.
i went into this knowing that i wanted to try to avoid the epidural but hindsight is yelling that i should have prepared myself (duh). i already admire every mother who gives birth, no matter how she does it, but there is a newfound appreciation for the women who choose to do it medication-free. you have to be a special kind of crazy to invite that kind of pain into your life. although more hindsight – if you prep yourself for this with breathing techniques and pain management (the pools, the postures, the positions, etc), i think that’s the difference between a traumatic experience and one that is less scarring.
our little prince arrived within a few hours of my water breaking, much different than our delivery with dylan, which i guess goes to show that the second child does come faster than the first (though this is probably the only time in his life he’s going to be early, much like the rest of us).
i wish i had made a note of the nurses’s names that night so i could thank them individually for everything they did. i don’t even remember their faces, although i think i probably have a good excuse. my experience at the hospital was also a lot better than the first time around. i’m a huge fan of st. mike’s in toronto but i felt the aftercare i received was far from great, especially for a woman who has just given birth. sure, the female of the species does this on a regular but we’re all made differently and you would think the staff on the maternity ward would be slightly more sympathetic when faced with new mothers. i digress. the women who helped us once we were out of l&d were all fantastic and sweet. that’s my shoutout to the peterborough regional health care center.
i worked hard to make dylan feel as much a part of our pregnancy as we did, involving her in appointments, picking out a name, picking out clothes, etc., and their first meeting was important to me. i hired a local photographer – chantelle watt – to capture that moment, and as you can see, she did a phenomenal job. we are all so damn awkward in front of the camera, just not naturally at ease (though i’m working on it) but she was able to snap some beautiful shots. seeing dylan’s face when she saw him for the first time, it still brings tears to my eyes thinking about it.
these two are my favorite people, and though they’re giving me a run for my money, i wouldn’t have them any other way.
– july 1, 2018