Maggie: A Birth Story

I thought as an inaugural posting of actual content, I would share the birth story of my first born.  I've been wanting to share it for a while, but didn't think that Facebook or a family newsletter would be the appropriate arena for sharing.

WARNING:  It does get a little graphic.  I tried to be honest and detailed for my own memory, but I've excised anything too icky.  Also, it's really quite long.  You've been warned.

The Day Maggie Was Born

Steve got up around 7 A.M. but I tried to sleep in a little bit more so that I could be as well rested as possible.  For some reason I had the Who playing in my head.  I had slept as well as I could, considering how nervous and excited I was.  The baby was still kicking away furiously as I ate some Grape Nuts.  I showered and then Steve and I finished packing and loaded up the car to go to the hospital.  The last thing I did before leaving the house was make myself a PB&J.  I didn’t know how long it would take but I knew that I would most like a PB&J when the birth was through.  That was my meal of choice for celebrating my daughter’s birth. 

It was a warm and sunny Tuesday, and the traffic was light.  I started to feel more excited and less anxious because I knew that it would all be over soon, one way or another.  We checked in at 8:30 and were pointed in the direction of the maternity ward (though we’d been there earlier when we took the child birth preparedness class). 

We were shown to room 2611 by a nice young nurse named Gina.  She gave me a gown and told me to change into it.  We took a “before” picture of me, and then I changed in the bathroom (which was really quite spacious).  I had to have Steve tie up the back for me because the gown was kind of busted.  My derriere was hanging free in the breeze as a result—a rather unpleasant beginning to my experience.

Dr. Baumgart came in around 9 to check on me before they started me on the Pitocin.  Gina then hooked me up to a monitor that tracked my blood pressure and the baby’s heart beat.  It was exciting to hear that, and served as a good reminder to me of what we were there for.  Steve and I played 20 questions while we waited for them to hook me up to the IV unit.  Gina and a blood technician came in at 9:45 to stick the needle in.  I told them how I didn’t do well with being pricked, and mercifully they informed me that they were going to take my blood and get the IV in the same go.  I looked out the window while Gina stuck me, only to nearly barf when she said “Oops!  I always make a mess when I do this.”  There was a gush of warm liquid down my hand, from where they pricked my wrist.  I forced myself to think of anything else so I wouldn’t pass out.  Then I was cleaned up and plugged in with some fluids and the Pitocin.

About 10:05 is when Gina hooked me into some antibiotics on top of the other things.  I had to be hooked up to antibiotics because I had some sort of bacteria that if passed to Maggie would give her serious respiratory problems, maybe even pneumonia. And so for the second time in nearly a year I was hooked up to an I.V. for the sake of my baby—the first time being in the emergency room in September because I was dehydrated.  I was also connected to a fetal heart monitor for Maggie, and a blood pressure indicator.  That thing hurt like the Dickens; every half hour or so it would inflate around my arm so hard it would go numb.  Sometimes it wouldn’t get a good reading, so it would do it three times in a row.  I joked that it hurt more than the contractions, when really it was just more annoying to have it interrupt my concentration.

Hooked up and ready to roll, Steve and I cuddled in the bed and started a crossword puzzle.  Gina came in again just before 11 to check on me and to up the dosage.  She looked at my read outs and said, “Oh, that was a contraction!  Did you feel it?”  I blinked at her in a surprised way, because all I felt was a slight queasiness. 

“You mean that was a contraction?  I’ve been feeling those for weeks, and I just thought it was just discomfort related to pregnancy.”  I was encouraged by that, and quite foolishly believed that this was the medium level of pain I was to go through.

I'm almost as big as the machinery I was plugged into!

Mom called soon after that to say she was on her way and almost there.  I told her I was in room 2611 and that the Pitocin was already kicking in, as when she called I had started to feel stronger contractions.  She mentioned that Auntie was indeed coming that day, but would be there a bit later.  Steve’s folks called a bit after that and said they would be heading up there at some point, but were not hurrying.  They did ask that they be informed if things suddenly sped up so they’d be there in time.  Mom S was eager to come and visit Maggie and me in the hospital because she’d never really visited anyone and their baby after a birth.  She really wanted to have that moment where she could stand outside the nursery and point her granddaughter out to strangers as they walked by.  I felt bad when I informed her though, that there weren’t any other babies in the nursery, and besides Maggie would be with me.

Gary and Mom showed up just before noon, and they brought strawberries among other things.  Steve gave them a brief tour of the facilities and showed them where to get snacks, while I concentrated on a few more contractions.  Gary went to get lunches while Mom visited with Steve and I and helped me breathe.  I was hungry at this point, and couldn’t get my PB & J out of my mind, which was a bit detrimental to my pain management focus.  I went to the bathroom and Mom helped me trail all of my hoses and bags to get to the restroom. 

Steve was hungry, so Mom took over coaching entirely while he ate his lunch.  Gary had stepped out for a cigarette and to eat his lunch, then he brought Mom’s lunch to her.  She had him put it in the fridge because she was helping me.  She was very helpful during the whole time, because she helped me calm down and I knew that if she had been through it, I could do it too.

The In-Laws showed up a little after lunch time, with their own snacks and a stack of “Scientific Americans” for Pops S to read.  I started to feel a bit weird at this point, having such a large audience to witness this moment.  On the other hand, it was a good thing because I knew I would never lose my head with a whole bunch of people in the room; I’d be too busy trying to look dignified.  Silly, but that’s the way my mind works.

Contractions were coming a little closer together and a little harder each time.  The measuring thing kept slipping as Maggie moved lower and I shifted position to become more comfortable.  We all talked about birth experiences, and I told Mom S about how I chuckled while reading about Pops wanting to watch “Airwolf” while in the hospital.  She yelled at him at the time, saying she wasn’t going to watch “that stupid helicopter show” when she was lying there.  Instead they watched “Mama’s Family” and some other show.  Well, at least they tried to while Mom S was in some terrible labor. 

My mom talked about how my father told her that “she was too loud” and “it doesn’t hurt that much” when Nathan was born.  I was glad that Steve didn’t boss me around or take my pain too lightly.  At this time he was trying to finish the crossword puzzle we’d been working on (I had lost interest in it because my concentration was needed elsewhere). 

"What, Me Worry?"

The contractions got stronger, and if felt like my insides were going to implode.  I started to see stars and bright colors at the peak of each of them.  Steve and Mom thought that they weren’t going strongly enough because of the read outs, but it turned out that this was only an external indication that the contractions were happening at all.  The way I felt I could definitely assure them that they were getting stronger. 

Gina came in again and asked me how I was doing, and if I wanted something for the pain yet.  I agreed to some Demerol just to take the edge off of the pain.  Inwardly I was smug saying, “The pain is pretty bad, but I can totally handle this without an epidural.”  

After the shot I felt a slight reprieve in the pain, so the In-Laws went down to the cafeteria for some lunch.  Mom sang a few hymns to me during a few of the contractions, and she and Steve helped me change positions and go to the bathroom again. 

The doctor came in again to check on my progress.  Apparently I was moving too slowly (only about five centimeters dilated), so they brought in the “sac cracker” as my mom put it—a device that resembles a crochet hook—so that he could break my waters for me.  Gina and my mom held my hands and had to yell at me to stop writhing; the pain from that was pretty intense!  Afterwards there was a warm gush of water, like I had sat in some soup or something.  I started to wonder why I bothered to shower that morning at all, when I was now so sweaty and gooey.

The Squiers came back, and then Auntie showed up.  She felt bad seeing me in so much pain, but what can you do?  A new nurse name Helen was assigned to me since Gina’s shift was over at 3.  She checked on my cervix and said I was up to seven centimeters.  It was nice to know I was making progress, but I was starting to get tired with the whole process.  Helen also brought with her a nursing student named Sarah, and asked if she could watch/participate when ok.  As I am a teacher myself and only too glad to help someone to learn I told them it was ok for her to stay.  The audience just kept growing and growing!  Luckily that suite was so huge!

Helen showed Auntie and Mom how to massage my back when a contraction came on.  Helen also hooked me up to the oxygen tank concealed in the wall, as she said the monitors showed Maggie was starting to slow in her movements and needed more oxygen.  This was because of the pain killer that I got.  I didn’t feel any difference in movement or how I felt, and the mask kind of made it harder to breathe than easing breathing. 

"Oh yeah"  

Helen suggested to me that I try sitting on a birthing ball.  She said she swore by its effectiveness in speeding up labor as well as it being a comforting position to be in during hard contractions.  I turned her down initially, but as the pain intensified I agreed to give it a go.  I sat hunched over a pillow while Steve sat next to me and held my hand.  Auntie and Mom took turns pressing into my back, but they weren’t doing it hard enough to relieve the pressure.  I was so breathless from the nearness and pain of the contractions I just didn’t have the strength to give them directions.  Pops took a picture of me giving a “thumbs up” and faking a dazed look.  I really started to feel self conscious now, particularly as my butt was really hanging out while sitting there for all and sundry to see.

The pain kept getting worse and I wasn’t relaxing enough in between contractions.  It became difficult to tell if there were even breaks at all between each one.  Helen told me I needed to void my bladder again, so they unhooked me from the oxygen and monitors to try peeing again.  The contractions and moving hurt so much, I just couldn’t go.  She told me that they’d have to bring in a catheter if I couldn’t do it myself, and for some reason this freaked me out and I began to whimper a little bit.  When I got back from the bathroom I noticed some covered tables had been wheeled in, but I couldn’t be terribly bothered with curiosity about them.  I didn’t want to get my hopes up that the labor was almost over in case I used up all of my strength and it wasn’t done yet.

Finally I couldn’t take anymore of the contractions.  I was starting to exhale very noisily, even to scream a little bit, and shudder violently.  I asked Mom to get Helen for an epidural, to which she reminded me that it was ok and there “weren’t any medals for giving birth without drugs.”  Auntie echoed her sentiment.  They called Helen in, and she called the anesthesiologist at about 5: 45.  She told me she would then have to check on Maggie to see how far she was and if the epidural would get there in time.  Helen looked, and then hurriedly got out her phone thing to cancel the epidural.  I over heard this and moaned pathetically, “Why did you cancel my drugs?  I want my drugs!”

“You’re all the way there!  You’ll have to push soon!” was her reply.  I thought that this meant I was fully dilated but not to the point where I could push yet.  This I interpreted as more pain for an unknown amount of time.  The thought terrified me, and I started to yell and thrash a bit with the contractions. 

Mom told me in an excited voice to open my eyes (they were screwed tight shut) because they were getting the water and equipment ready for the delivery.  I heard Helen call for Dr. Baumgart, and then she said he was on his way.  Then she quietly and politely asked me that this was the time to ask people who I didn’t want to be there to leave.  I announced blearily to the room in general that people could leave if they wanted to, but I didn’t really care at this point if I was giving birth on live national television—I just wanted it to end.

I opened my eyes to look around, and the place was abuzz with activity.  It was kind of blurry though and I had trouble focusing because my body was screaming in agony.  Helen said that she was going to have to get a catheter, and for some reason this frightened me so much I went ahead and urinated in the bed.  “I’m going any way!” I shouted rather dumbly.  Auntie, Mom, and Steve were standing around me saying comforting things as I gritted my teeth and started to cry a little bit (I was embarrassed about having peed on myself.)  I really stopped paying attention to what was going on around me at this point, and all I could think about was how I wanted my drugs and my sandwich. 

Suddenly this amazing sensation took over my whole being: I wanted to push.  I announced rather matter-of-factly “I want to push now.”  It kind of sounded stupid when I said it out loud, but I thought they all might like to know.  I heard Helen say the doctor was in the building and on his way.  I pushed again and it felt great.  I mean it felt like my body was made of Jell-O and I had just won the lottery.  The nurse checked on Maggie and said my pushing was really good; I was a “natural.”  Steve and Mom said they could see Maggie moving down the birth canal and that her head was starting to come out.  I really wished that they had a mirror so I could see too.  Then again, I was fairly certain that if I could see the blood I would really start to freak out and stop pushing.

Pushing still felt really good, so I kept on doing it.  I was grinning in between pushes, looking like a complete idiot I’m sure.  The nurse asked why I was smiling, and I replied that it was because I felt so good.  As an aside to Steve she asked if I was alright; she seemed incredulous that five minutes after shouting for drugs I was calm and chipper. 

Dr. Baumgart showed up and he checked on me and Maggie.  He gave some directions to the nurses, and then asked Mom and Auntie to be my “stirrups” and hold up my legs for him.  The water and instruments for birthing were uncovered, and the baby warming table was turned on and prepared.  I think I was introduced briefly to Maggie’s pediatric nurse, but all my concentration was on pushing at that moment. 

The doctor told me that he could see the head, and Auntie and Mom confirmed it.  Steve craned his neck around to see her, and everyone commented on how much hair she had.  I couldn’t believe it, considering how bald her parents were at birth!  Knowing that her head was almost out (the hardest thing to push out) I felt stronger and more directed, though I kept yelling with my pushing.  The doctor and nurses told me that this wasn’t an effective use of my energy; I should instead be silent and direct that energy to my cervix and pushing.  I tried this and Maggie really began to move out.

I felt this ring of fire as Maggie began to crown, and the doctor said that with the next push he would cut me to ease her passing.  Then she would be out!  I breathed deeply for a few minutes, tired but really excited—any moment now I would see my baby!  The urge came again and I bore down.  I heard the snip but didn’t feel it as it was in the ring of fire.  I felt her head and body shoot right out of me.  No joke; it felt like she was jet propelled and just zipped on out of there.

Dr. Baumgart and Mom told me to open my eyes and look down.  I could hear her cries—music to my ears!  She had a funny little squeaking cry, not of distress or fear but of surprise and some dismay at how chilly it was outside of me.  Maggie was born at 6:39 P.M. on Tuesday, April 7^th 2009.  The entire labor was about eight hours including thirty total minutes of pushing.

Hello World!

"Hello, Gorgeous!"

The doctor held her up for everyone to see and take pictures, and then he wrapped her in blankets and placed her on my chest for warmth.  Helen massaged my stomach and I had the urge to push one more time; and then the placenta was out (Steve’s comment: “Ew, gross!”)  Dr. Baumgart told me he had to stitch me up because of the episiotomy, and I said “ok.”  All I could think of or focus on was Maggie.  People were around us snapping photos.  She had stopped crying when she was placed on my chest, and she was looking around at everything.  She grabbed Steve’s finger when he offered it to her, and I was so happy for the proud look on his face.  Maggie was the most beautiful thing that I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t stop smiling at her and cooing “Hello, I’m your Mama!”

At the same time I overheard Helen saying to Sarah that Maggie’s head was not very collapsed for a newborn.  She turned to me and remarked that I could do this all day, since my hips were wide enough to pass a baby’s head out without squishing it.  I smiled weakly at this comment.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity the stitching was over.  I asked if it was ok to give Maggie her first bath (even right after an exhausting labor my neat freak tendencies still flared up.  I wanted that goo off that kid!)  Since I was done being sewn up the doctor said it was ok.  First she was passed around to the family for everyone to look at/have pictures with.  Then they showed us how to wash her.  She didn’t cry—everyone was stunned—but proceeded to make a series of cute little “squeaks” instead.  Maggie had such big eyes, alert and staring.  I asked Helen if this was typical, and she postulated that it was probably because I didn’t have any heavy drugs that she was so awake and lucid.  Wild big eyes, she had.  So amazing!

We called the grandparents, other Uncles and Aunts and Brothers, and then Mom fed me my reward PB&J sandwich.  Oh boy did it taste great!  Steve also sat down and ate up the meal he had ordered half an hour previous.  The nurses gave me some Ibuprofen to help with the pain, and I dutifully took it.  I was quite surprised that once she was out and the stitching was done that I didn’t feel hardly any terrible pain anymore, nor was I tired in the least.  I thought that was kind of weird.

I mean, wouldn't you want everyone to know about this cutie?

Maggie was passed around to grandparents and great-aunt and Daddy for some more pictures.  All the while she really didn’t cry, and everyone was amazed at how alert and aware she was.   She seemed to be super interested in her surroundings, and we were bursting with pride.  Before the doctor left he said that we might have set a record for most phone calls after a birth—we wanted to tell the whole world.