Evanina’s Birth Story Part 2
While I was in labor, my nurse was being shadowed by a student who was regularly assigned to the ICU. She was excited by the prospect of seeing a birth and was disappointed when her shift ended before Eva arrived. She asked if she could come back for the delivery. I was more than happy to have an addiional support person, so I readily agreed to let her come back after she finished one of her classes. She arrived in perfect time to assist in Eva’s delivery.
I was somewhat surprised when the nurse told me I was completely dilated. I had gone from just over 1 CM at 9:30 AM to fuly dilated by 2:45 PM. Anything less than one centimeter per hour is considered failure to progress by most doctors, so to go from barely any extra dilation for nine and half hours to full dilation (10 centimeters) after about 5 hours made me feel pretty good. I think the key for me was that the epidural allowed me to relax and let my body do it’s thing. No matter how hard I tried, when I was in pain and worried about what was coming next, I just could not relax. I had given up on the Hypnobabies CDs before they broke the membranes as I just could not focus enough on them to do me much good at that point.
After announcing that I was fully dilated, the nurse started prepping things for delivery while waiting for the student nurse to return. Just before 3 PM the student arrived and all was ready. Then the nurse announced that she wanted me to hold my breath and count to ten as I pushed. I flatly announced that I was going to do no such thing. I explained that I have asthma, that holding my breath is next to impossible for me and that I had read that it is unhealthy for me or the baby. I had been on oxygen most of the day to help keep the baby’s heart rate normal, so why would holding my breath while I exerted that much effort be a good plan? The nurse insisted that there was no other way, but I told her I wanted to try anyway. To demonstrate, I tried holding my breath for a few seconds. Predictably, I ended up coughing and gagging. So, she consented.
I was not thrilled with having to push while on my back, but the epidural pretty much dictated that for me. The really annoying thing about the epidural was that I could not feel anything in my lower abdomen. The nurse kept telling me to use this muscle or that muscle, but I could not feel them so how could I tell if I was using them? The good thing was that I could concentrate on pushing, not on pain. My husband ended up holding one leg for me while the student nurse held up the other leg. There were handholds in the lower part of the bed and I used those a lot to help pull myself forward while I pushed.
I took deep breaths and pushed as I exhaled in small breaths. To the nurse’s great surprise, it worked! The easy part was gettingthe baby’s head into the birth canal. That only took 45 minutes. Then she got stuck. The nurse said she was stuck on a band of tissue, but judging from the bruise on the back of her head, I think she was hitting my pubic bone. It took another 45 minutes to get her loose from wherever she was stuck. The nurse went running to call the doctor as soon as it was clear that the baby was on the move. By then it was almost too late. Eva had her feet pushing on my ribs as hard as she could and my body kind of took over after that. After an hour and half of telling me to push, everyone was telling me not to push. At that point, I could feel some pressure as the baby’s head moved forward. I kept telling them that she was coming out whether they liked it or not. A couple more nurses came into the room and they kept telling me not to laugh, breathe or push. That struck me as funny, so I could not help laughing. Slowly, a quarter of an inch at a time, I could feel that head moving and those little feet kicking like she was trying to swim her way to the surface.
The doctor came running into the room and barely had time to put gloves on before Eva came sliding out so fast the doctor had to catch her. I had succesfully given birth without any external tearing and only needed two small stitches inside. They put little Eva on my chest and the nurse put my oxygen mask on the baby while James cut the cord. She opened her eyes and looked at me for a few seconds before the nurse was taking her. I asked if she could stay for just a minute and they said no so gently I realized something was not right.
There is no time period so long as when you are waiting to hear if your baby is ok. They took her to the bassinet and started working to clear her lungs. Suddenly there were several extra people in the room. As the doctor delivered the placenta and stitched me up, all I could focus on was the tiny pair of pink legs I could see across the room. Everyone was talking about what might be happening with the baby and whether she was ok. They talked about what points they were going to take off her Apgar score for tone and why her breathing was so congested. A few minutes later someone came from the nursery to ask why they had not gotten the emergency transfer baby yet. Then the delivery nurse asked, “Didn’t you say that you and your husband both have eye problems? What exactly do you have?” I explained that James’ eyes twitch when he is under stress and that my eye muscles are weak and don’t track well when I am tired. She said, “I think that’s it! When a baby’s eyes move like that it usually means they are in shock, I think she just has your eye problem.”
After clearing her lungs of fluid and checking her over, they decided that she was ok after all. I have never been so relieved! Finally they handed me a little bundle of blanket wrapped baby. I still could not believe she was real, even as tears began to flow. The next few days were filled with more worries about her as she had trouble learning to eat and we had to keep her under lights for jaundice. It was not until she was 5 days old that I finally let myself believe that she was real and she was staying.
All those years of infertility, of wondering if I would ever get pregnant or if I could carry a baby to term kept me from really accepting the reality of the pregnancy once it did happen. From the first positive test through the doctor who told me at 5 weeks that we could not even be sure the baby was viable even if I was pregnant. The bleeding scare at 10 weeks that lead to the first ultrasound where we got to see her moving, through 5 months of throwing up and then the diagnosis of gestational diabetes. The doctor telling us that I had a 50 percent chance of a C-section, the weekly tests and ultrasounds to see if she was healthy and growing properly. My fears about the delivery. The many women I know who have had miscarriages or stillbirths, friends with babies who need surgery or have other scary problems after birth. Through all of these things and all of these fears, I held back from believing that I really could be so blessed with this tiny miracle.
Once I got her to start eating regularly and the doctor had us take her off the bili-lights, I was finally able to relax. The afternoon of her fifth day I found myself alone with my sleeping baby. I looked down at her tiny, perfect little face and I cried. Somehow, after all the hurt and worry, here she was. A miracle called Eva.
