My wife said to me, “Where the details get fuzzy for me, that’s where they get vivid for you.” She’s right. As I read Miriam’s birth story yesterday I felt the overwhelming need to write The Real Birth Story. So, for every part that my wife writes, I will write the Real version of what happened. Here goes…
Part I, Redux
At the doctor’s appointment the week before our daughter was due, my wife did not appear close to being due. Not only did the doctor seem pretty sure he’d see us in a week and have to start talking to us about induction, but the nice church ladies my wife would see at weekday morning mass would scoff at her when she’d say her due date! December 13th! Not bloody likely! You’re carrying way too high!
I thought all along that my wife would give birth early. My guess for the due date was December 7. So, when Saturday, December 11 came around and our daughter hadn’t arrived yet, it was time for us to get to work. After taking Bradley method classes, I was resolved that my wife would have a natural childbirth, so whatever natural means of induction we needed to use, we would use them. All of them! I may have even promised my wife as much lovin’ as she would need to get this baby out naturally!
On Saturday, not only did we go for a walk in the afternoon, but we hiked in one of the local parks! My wife read that pineapple might ripen a pregnant woman’s cervix, so we ate pineapple! We read that Mexican food can induce labor, so we went to Las Margaritas (you don’t have to twist either of our arms to go for Mexican food)! Then, after dinner, we walked the mall for about an hour. Still, there were no signs of my wife going into labor.
Then, at about 1:30 AM on Sunday, I was awoken by the sounds of my wife in the bathroom. She was spending way too much time in the bathroom at 1:30 at night. When she would get back to bed, she’d lie down and about every 10 minutes her breathing would get heavier. At about 2 AM I decided to start timing the breathing. About every 10 minutes, her breathing got heavy and that lasted for about 30 second. She was having contractions!
Of course, I immediately declared to my wife: “You’re in labor. Today is the day!” But she was more hesitant. She seemed sincerely worried that this wasn’t real labor. So, I did what she should have done. I went back to sleep. I slept till about 6 AM waking up sporadically to the sounds of my wife’s breathing. She, meanwhile, did not sleep a wink. At 6 AM, I woke up to the sounds of my wife’s contractions and I was even more confident that today would be the day.
I started to make breakfast: chocolate chip pancakes and sausage. I needed a hearty breakfast; today was going to be the day that my wife gave birth! My wife decided to try to get some sleep. She laid a blanket and pillow down on the floor and closed her eyes. From what I remember, she didn’t sleep well at all. She was back up by 8 AM. At that point, I tried to get her to eat. She didn’t eat. She wasn’t hungry. Remember this, because she kept putting off eating all day!
Between 8 and noon, my wife labored. She sat. She kneeled. I held her upright. We walked her. We did every labor position and all she kept saying was “I’m not comfortable” “Why can’t I get comfortable?” As though labor was going to feel magical (like breast feeding…).
For the majority of the labor, I held her upright and danced her. This worked well. Her contractions became longer and more frequent. I actually started writing down contraction times and lengths, which kind of helped. At one point, we tried to walk my wife outside. She could barely walk.
Also, around noon, I decided that my wife needed to eat. I got out the leftovers, pineapple, Mexican, etc. My wife was not interested. She wanted mac and cheese. Great, I can make mac and cheese. So, I cooked my wife some mac and cheese, and when it was ready, she wouldn’t touch it! My wife wouldn’t eat!
At this point, my wife could barely walk, her contractions were about 4 minutes apart, but it seemed like there were mini contractions between the contractions. I said to her that we should start thinking about going to the hospital. She asked, “Are you sure?” The answer was “No”, but I told her “Yes.” Her contractions kept coming and seemed so strong at times that she would yell. It was time. At 12:45 PM, I called her doctor. The doctor said to come to the hospital. Oh, and the doctor on call for our delivery was the one doctor we were hoping to avoid.
I started to pack the car and my wife said to me, “Can you pray that I’m five centimeters. I don’t want to be there if I’m not five centimeters.” Of course I’ll pray. So I took a minute to pray that my wife would be five centimeters dilated. It was at this point that my wife started crying and finally admitted that today was going to be the day!
Our hospital is about 25 minutes from our house. It was rainy. My wife STILL wasn’t comfortable. I had the song Sandstorm by Darude in my head.
And I could tell that the time between my wife’s contractions was getting to be 5-6 minutes while we were in the car. I do remember hitting a few potholes, but the road we took was terrible (and we knew it would be going into it.) While we were in the car, my wife asked me to pray that she was five centimeters again. She also asked me not to hit any potholes. Truth be told, she asked me to pray that she was five centimeters about five times.
When we arrived at the hospital, I parked illegally and brought her in. Within two minutes, a security guard came into the waiting room and asked for whoever parked outside the ER entrance to move their car. So, while my wife was checking in, I moved my car from in front of the ER to the doctor’s parking lot. The receptionist gave my wife a wheelchair. I think my wife was insulted. Regardless, she sat in the chair and I wheeled her into the elevator. When we got to the third floor (the maternity floor), my wife insisted that she walk. We left the wheelchair in the middle of the hallway, and walked the rest of the way.
By now it was about 1:30 PM and my wife had already been in labor for 12 hours.