My husband and I conceived on our wedding night, which wasn’t exactly the plan. We had both agreed to wait 3-4 years until even trying to become pregnant. I was only 19 at the time, and having a baby was not exactly what I wanted. However, I did know that I didn’t want your typical “knock ‘em out, drag ‘em out” birth. I knew from hearing different relatives talk about natural childbirth that it could, and should be a beautiful experience that should be enjoyed not dreaded.
Scott (husband) and I took Bradley classes taught by Amber Walla, and that is where I learned everything I know now about how to enjoy being pregnant and how to enjoy birth.
My estimated expectancy date was October 25, 2008. However, on the evening of October 2, 2008 my water broke. It was a little after 10pm and I had just finished going to the bathroom before going to bed. When I stood up I noticed that liquid kept trickling down my leg. Not much but a noticeable amount. Mortified that I had perhaps just urinated in my pants I sat back down and repeated the whole process about 4 times before finally realizing that my water had broke. A steady stream of fluid continued for about 30 minutes, so Scott and I decided we would take a shower. After the shower I had stopped leaking, and went to bed. Scott was convinced that I was going into labor, but I was convinced otherwise. It was too early, and we had heard about women’s bag of waters breaking and then labor not occurring for several days. I just had to drink lots of water. We went to bed around 11pm that night. I woke up pretty early the next morning because I was no longer able to sleep through these cramping pains. I estimated they were 5 minutes apart, but they were pretty easy going. I got up and made some breakfast, walked around the house, did some pelvic rocks, all the things I knew to try to subside Braxton-Hicks. Since I was still convinced that I was not in labor Scott left for work around 7am, and my mom arrived around 7:30am. Shortly after she arrived I called into work and told them I was in labor. By the time 8am rolled around my contractions were much harder and much closer together, double peaking at times and I was unable to talk through them, they were taking a lot more concentration. I decided that I would be more comfortable lying down in the “running” sleep position, as I was having strong back pain. As I lay on the bed supported by pillows, my mom spoon-fed me some yogurt in between contractions to help keep my strength up. My sister packed our clothes since we hadn’t packed yet. Mom called Scott at 9am and told him to get home quickly because I was progressing rapidly. When Scott got home we left for the hospital where my midwife was, so that I could be checked. Scott was almost 100% sure I was heading into transition but wanted to be sure before we committed to going to the hospital we would deliver at. It seemed like we had parked in the farthest parking spot away from the building, and the ride up the elevator to the third floor seemed agonizingly long. With every contraction I would lean on Scott and let him support my weight while I focused on relaxing as much as possible. Kim (midwife) checked me as soon as we got there and I was dilated to six centimeters. When she asked if I had been leaking any fluid I told her no, knowing that if I admitted to her that my water broke that I would be on a time limit. She told me that by law she was required to tell me to go to the hospital now, but knew that I was stubborn and wouldn’t, so she gave us her pager number and told us to page her the minute we left for the hospital. By the time we got down the elevator and out into the parking lot I hit transition. I was leaning on Scott, crying, and blocking two lanes of traffic saying “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Yep, there it is, transition. We left immediately for St. Mary’s hospital where I would give birth. I laid in the back of my mom’s van while she drove and Scott lay with me, talking softly in my ear and rubbing my back.
The hospital required that they have a fifteen minute reading on the EFM, so when we first got there I had to get in the bed. Kim arrived shortly after we did, and came in to make sure I was ok, and to check me again, this time I was dilated to 9 centimeters. There were about 10-15 neonatal staff in the room, since Weston was three weeks and one day early he was considered premature. Weston’s heart rate would drop so low during the contractions that it would completely bottom out, the machine would beep and nurses would look panicked. Because of that they made me move positions every three or four contractions to try and “unkink” the cord. I also had to have a bag of fluid to try and get his heart rate to stabilize. We tried to fight it, knowing that means a cesarean section would be that much easier for them to push on us. We arrived at the hospital around 11am and the first contraction that made me push was around 12:15pm. I say made me push because it was uncontrollable and involuntary. My body just took over. Weston was born at 12:55pm on October 3, 2008, weighing 7 pounds even and 19 3/4 inches long; he was placed directly on my breast to begin bonding and breastfeeding. He was strong, alert, and the only signs he had of prematurity was the thick peach fuzzy body hair all over him. He was super clean, not a lot of vernix on him. Scott was able to cut the umbilical cord after several minutes, and shortly after that I pushed the placenta out. Weston began to breastfeed almost instantly. I did tear slightly on the inside of my vagina, but I was able to hold and caress Weston the entire time I was being stitched up.
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