Norah's Birth Story

For anyone interested in Norah’s birth story, here ya go! Hopefully some of you may find encouragement or relate to some of the details of her birth story. And some of you may just be excited to finally hear how it all went down!

The majority of my pregnancy had been quite normal, not many complaints. I mostly felt great with a good bit of energy. However, for some reason in my last month of pregnancy my blood pressure began to go high and stayed medium-high the rest of the pregnancy, around 140/90. During this time, sometimes it would sky rocket to a little higher than that, then we would have to go into the hospital to get it checked and do tests for other problems associated with high blood pressure in pregnancy. It began to get very old and our doctor was beginning to worry about my health, even after putting me on blood pressure medicine. Luckily, I had no other signs of anything more serious, such as severe swelling, protein in my urine, headaches, pain, etc., so they allowed me to continue my pregnancy, letting Buttercup bake all the way through part of the 39^th week.

After meeting with our doctor on Monday, December 1 (Buttercup was due December 5^th) and having my membranes swept for the second time, we decided that if Buttercup didn’t start coming that night then we would come in Tuesday morning to begin the inducing process.

There were so many thoughts going through my mind in those last few weeks: anxiety over the coming labor and delivery, not knowing what to expect, questioning whether I could actually go through with the natural birth I desired, fears of not loving our baby or having trouble bonding, worries over whether I would long for the life that Grayson and I had before a new human being stayed with us forever and it was no longer just the two of us, and stress over whether I was ok and Buttercup was ok.

So, by the time there was a deadline put on inducing, I had come to grips with the fact that it was time for Buttercup to come out and that the added worries over my health (even though I felt completely normal) could only be cleared once she was born! Tuesday morning came as kind of a relief, knowing that it was FINALLY happening and that there was no longer going to be any anticipation over WHEN the baby would decide to come. Little did we know the long haul that was in store for us.

We arrived at the hospital around 10 AM and they began the process of inducing almost immediately.

First step was to apply a gel that would release hormones that are normally released to get labor started. After this, we just had to wait for contractions to start and grow stronger. They began to come but were pretty manageable and not that strong, so we spent the afternoon watching two different movies and playing a game in our room, trying to distract myself from contractions as we waited for them to pick up. Later that afternoon, they gave me a pill that was another step in trying to help my contractions pick up enough to begin real labor. They picked up some but by the time it was evening, I was still not fully effaced and barely dilated. So we slept. Me not so comfortably, but I was thankful for the little bit of rest I did get that night as the smaller contractions continued as I slept.

The next morning, they gave me another pill and told me that if that didn’t help pick them up then we would see after lunchtime if we needed to start the Pitocin drip or if I wanted to take another pill and wait for labor to begin. I REALLY did not want the drip because from my understanding, I would have to remain in bed the rest of the labor and wouldn’t be able to use different techniques to help through tough contractions. I knew that this would probably lead to getting an epidural and would deter me from having the natural birth I desired, where I felt everything and let my body do what it knew to do and to be with it and myself for the whole thing.

When the time rolled around, my contractions still hadn’t picked up, so we decided to take the pill ONE more time before agreeing to go on the Pitocin drip. We were so thankful for a great doctor and nursing staff that supported my decisions yet still were so aware of taking care of mine and the baby’s health. They wanted to give me the birth I desired while still watching out for us.

It was crunch time. Maybe it was a mental thing, knowing that the drip was in the near future or maybe it was all the walking and stairs that made my body kick into high gear, but I remember walking around outside (like we had been doing for a while) and then having one contraction that was a little bit more difficult to talk or walk through and then one pretty similar much closer afterward.  We came back to our room and from that Wednesday afternoon on, labor began to finally pick up and progress. Before this I had just been going through a medically induced prelabor, which is normally done in the comforts of your own home, being able to distract yourself with staying busy around the house. For us, it was a little over 30 hours of it in a hospital.

We called our doula, and she came over in the late afternoon. When our doctor came to check me that evening, I was almost fully effaced and about 3.5 cm dilated. We put on our game faces and began to work through the progressively stronger contractions. Our doula and Grayson were by my side the whole night, encouraging me through contractions when I needed it, massaging my back or shoulders, and sometimes just letting me concentrate on relaxing through each one. As the night went on, I kept wondering: how far along am I? Is the end near? At one point around 2 or 3 AM, I went through a series of tough contractions that left my legs shaking, and we thought maybe I was moving through transition. Nope.

Throughout the night, I tried different comfort measures I had read up on. I tried squatting through contractions. That was pretty painful for me. I tried rocking on my hands and knees. That too was intense. I ended up spending the majority of my time sitting on top of a birth ball rocking my hips back and forth rhythmically and taking calm breaths. As the contractions increased, this even became uncomfortable, but compared to standing or the other positions, this was by far my favorite! Looking back, sitting through a lot of them rather than standing, might have slowed things down a little, but I was just trying to make it through each one! By the morning time, when they were ready to check me, I was exhausted and thinking: SURELY I’ve progressed a lot over the night. Come to find out I was still not fully effaced and only 4 centimeters!! It seemed as if I had not progressed at all. Our amazing doula was very encouraging and kept telling me that my body was working and that all those hours were just part of prepping for my body to progress later.

However, I was beginning to feel very discouraged since I was so tired and mentally feeling drained, like I couldn’t mentally go through any more contractions. I began to wonder if I should get an epidural because I was having a hard time coping with the increasing strength of the contractions. I was losing hope and confidence in my ability to stay strong on this freight train that was increasingly gaining speed with no way to get off.

Grayson and our doula were basically cheerleaders during this time repeating to me that I COULD do it, that I was doing AMAZING, and that it was progressing.

At one point, Grayson and I walked down the hall to try to get things moving, but it was so intense just to walk through the contractions, so we went back to the room where I could get back in my comfort zone rocking on the ball. One lady tried to come check me, but she was so rough and checked me during a contraction that I yelled at her to stop and I jumped out of bed to try and make it through the contraction better.

Luckily, around 11, my doctor came in to see how things were progressing and to break my water. To all of our surprise, I was fully effaced and 8 centimeters!! To me, this was still not close enough, but our doula and Grayson both got really excited and said, “Rachel, you are SOO close now, just a little longer.”

After she broke my water, things REALLY sped up! Almost within minutes, contractions were coming on longer, stronger, and almost one on top of the other. This was INTENSE!!! I alternated between rocking on the ball forward and backward, Grayson sitting in the chair in front of me (letting me squeeze his hand) and my doula behind me, putting pressure on my lower back. I often lost control over my steady, controlled breathing, but both our doula and Grayson breathed with me and counted every breath with me. This really helped me to make it through each one. It started getting scarier as we would get close to the supposed end of the count and the contraction was still there or had unfortunately only slowed down a little just to come on AGAIN stronger. Honestly, these two were my legs, supporting my body; I couldn’t have done it without the BOTH of them. It was such an amazing experience for both Grayson and I; I’ve never seen him be so strong and encouraging and proud of me. I think his awe and excitement helped me so much through the entire process.

This stage began the “scary, crazy Rachel” stage where I began to feel and act frantic. Through almost every contraction, I was freaking out and breathing too quickly. Our doula and Grayson just spoke firmly to me to breathe slower and calm down and tell me I was doing wonderful. Whether I was standing and swaying or sitting and rocking, Grayson was at my front where I could bury my face in his shoulder and death grip his shirt while our doula was at my back pressing firmly. We were a rocking, swaying, counting, breathing, three-person machine.

I really started freaking out and said things along the lines of “Grayson, why did I want to have this baby naturally? We’re not doing this next time. We’re just going to do the epidural.”

As contractions were coming mostly one after the other, nurses would pop in and ask if I had a “potty feeling”. I wasn’t really sure, but I knew I wanted to! I was mentally ready to get this baby OUT! Finally, as I started getting those urges, we moved me quickly down the hall to the delivery room (past a hall full of waiting visitors of other moms-to-be..). When we arrived outside the room, there was someone in there!! I think they were getting an epidural or something. All I remember was standing in the hall, a contraction coming, feeling like I was about to go to the bathroom all over myself, me clinging to Grayson’s shoulder, our doula at my back, and me yelling for them to hurry up and let me go in there!

A few minutes later, we were uncomfortably getting me up onto the birthing table. Evidently, other ladies decided to have their babies around the same time too, because my doctor was busy delivering another baby and the other doctor was doing a C-section. They made me wait there as they frantically tried to make sure I was physically ready to push and getting the room prepped while they called for a doctor to come. I began to have the urge to push and started a little, but our wonderful doula helped me breathe through them and encouraged me to wait for the doctor. That was TOUGH. Because once those pushing feelings started coming, that’s all I wanted to do! Several minutes later the doctor came in and we got the show on the road. I’m not sure how long I pushed, but to me it all went by really fast. The whole time, Grayson was on my left encouraging me and my doula was on my right, guiding me firmly through each contraction and pushing and resting stage. I’m so glad she was there, because I wouldn’t have known to do the things she told me to do. Our wonderful doctor kept saying, “Wow, excellent, we’re almost there.”

Before I knew it, they were holding out a baby and saying “It’s a girl!” A few seconds after putting her on my chest, I looked to Grayson and said, “Wait, did they say it was a boy or girl?” She laid there for a few minutes before they took her to clean out some stuff from her air passages. As soon as they took her off of me, she let out her first cry. She knew her Mama already J

Man, by far, pushing and delivery was my favorite part of the whole ordeal. I actually really loved that part. It felt like the most productive and releasing thing in the whole process. Feeling those urges to push and feeling pretty normal right after the birth was awesome and made it all so worth it.

They let her stay on me as they finished stitching me up. I was moved onto a stretcher to get wheeled to our room; that was a first for me. Grayson held our slightly bloody baby girl as we went down the hall. I was able to nurse a little before Grayson took her down to the nursery to get weighed, measured, and cleaned up a little. At one point, he came running back into the room begging for a blanket. He frantically threw everything out of our bag to grab a blanket saying “They need a blanket, hurry, where are the blankets, I left her alone in there!” He was already instinctively a protective dad.

The first day with her was complete bliss. Most of our sentences consisting of “She’s perfect. You’re so beautiful. How wonderful is she. I love you, Norah, so much.”

On day 3, we were packed up and ready to go when the doctor told us that Norah had high bilirubin levels and that for her health, they wanted her to stay another night to be put under the lights. We didn’t really know all that this entailed. About ten minutes later, a nurse came in and said, “Ok, we’re going to take her now to put her in the lights.” I asked her how long she would be there and if she could come back and stay with us in the room. She told me “No, she has to stay in the nursery but that you can come feed her every time she is hungry.”

We were crushed. We are on this wonderful honeymoon with our little one and in just a few minutes, we felt like it was ripped away from us. All we wanted to do at that point was to hold her, love her, and just LOOK at her. But now we had to hand her back and allow someone else to change her diapers, comfort her, and take care of her. That afternoon was really rough for me and for Grayson, but we made it through on the hope that we would be leaving the next morning. Unfortunately, her levels didn’t improve enough, so we stayed another night. The nurses would call me every time she would start waking up and wanting to eat, and I would walk down to the nursery to feed her, burp her, and cuddle her for a few brief moments before they wanted her back to sit under the lights. It was so sad seeing her like a little patient under all those lights and not able to be near her. My heart really goes out to all the preemie Moms out there! That is a REALLY tough road.

Finally, 6 nights after we originally arrived at the hospital, after getting to know ALL the hospital staff really well, we checked out and headed to our big city home! We were proud new parents of our precious baby girl, excited to have her back as our very own.

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