That was probably the hardest shit I’d ever had to do in my entire life, but it gave me the best blessing I could ever imagine. After 23 hours of trying to labor down, my son Maverick James was born on 28 February 2020, at 1255. He weighs in as a light featherweight champion of 6.4 lbs, measuring 20 inches long. The adrenaline was surging when they placed him in front of me as I stared down at him while I was still on all fours.
26 February 2020 @1500
Sean and I had a 39-week appointment this day, but I was already having contractions. Mild as they were, the clinic still thought it was best to send me up to be checked in case I was going into labor. While I was triaged, I found out I was 3 cm and 75% effaced. The OBGYN that saw me asked if I wanted her to strip my membranes, and I said yes! Little did I know this was going to kick start the process fairly quickly. I went home that night and was cramping and contracting throughout the night.
27 February 2020
I woke up to slower contractions, not as intense, and all of a sudden felt a little disappointed. The contractions had been fairly strong throughout the night, but the fact that I was able to fall asleep through them to have them completely fade away? Rough. Sean and I still stayed home though because even though they were irregular, they were still there. The OBGYN told me to wait 24 hours, so that’s what we did. I called LND asking what admission criteria was, and she said that she would bet I still had 48 hours or so before I came in. So Sean and I went on a few walks, to include a very short 10-minute hike on the Franklin Mountains. This was barely a hike, it was a slightly elevated gravel trail, some kind of joke to a PNW’er. We ate lunch at an overpriced crab boil restaurant, and then walked to Wal-Mart to get milk, and that’s when it hit me.
I told Sean I needed to go home because I started having intense cramping. When we got home, I laid on my birth ball while Sean started a warm bath for me to relax in. I sat in the bath for about 15 minutes when I thought I felt a trickle come out, we thought nothing of it. Then a gush of fluid came out and formed a cloud in the bath, “HOLY SHIT” both of us exclaimed. I stood up, “THIS IS IT!” Fluids kept leaking out like they do in the movies!
“YOU’RE STILL GUSHING!”
“GET ME PADS AND MY CLOTHES.”
“HOLY SHIT IT’S HAPPENING!”
“I’LL CALL LND AND FLORA AND WE GOTTA GO!”
The adrenaline was rushing, but we honestly could have moved a little slower. But with every gush that came out, we became more and more excited. We were going to meet our little boy soon and we couldn’t wait! Sean drove us to the hospital in record time (safely of course), and I was still in the backseat trying to gather all the mental courage I was going to need for the big push.
Disclaimer: Graphic images included in this blog. Photography by Kai Lanzi Photography - El Paso Birth Photographer
We got to the hospital, and I barely progressed. I was at 4 cm and 80% effaced. I came in with a birth plan but God decided that he wanted to switch things up on us. I wasn’t contracting. I wasn’t in labor. My water was broken. My risk of infection would grow with every hour that passed by. So the question of, “do you want to start Pitocin” came up and it was the one thing I wanted to avoid. I’ve always heard that laboring on Pitocin was a different kind of hell. I ended up giving in after a couple of hours. I was going to feel the pain either way, so we might as well kick start it. I labored unmedicated (without epidural) on Pitocin for almost 8 hours. My night nurse, Maria, was the most soothing nurse ever. Every time she came in and massaged me through a contraction, I fell asleep. Then as soon as she left and Sean took over, I was screaming. There was something so calming about her that really helped me through those first 8 hours of labor.
28 February 2020
At 0430, I tapped out and asked for an epidural when they got the Pitocin up to 14 milliunits per second. They missed twice on my epidural, but gave me a hefty dose when they finally got it in. I slept until 9 AM. By then I was a complete 10 cm and 100% effaced and baby was at station 0. I was feeling mighty fine after hearing this, thinking that my labor was going to be sunshine and rainbows, but this was more like the PNW where a sunny day can turn into a rainstorm real quick.
After having the hardest time trying to push with an epidural, we ended up taking it off after 4 hours to let my body feel the contractions and the pushing. My legs were so heavy and I could not for the life of me focus my pushing to my butt. I also wasn’t having strong enough contractions to help me push baby out, so they had to start the Pitocin again. This was enough to put me through three hours of hell. My birthing team was the most encouraging team of nurses though. My midwife, Regina, didn’t give up on me at all and was pulling out every trick in the hat to get me to deliver. My nurse, Pat, didn’t give up on me at all and was so encouraging throughout the entire process. My husband was a trooper in supporting me. And my birth photographer, Kai, was doing way more than just taking photos. She was holding my hand, my legs, wiping the sweat off my face. My team was strong, and they believed in me; so I had to believe in me.
We tried EVERY position possible to push in. My son was NOT wanting to evacuate his hot tub of 9 months. We started in the traditional on the back push. I moved to both sides. I was squatting with the bar. My midwife put me in a weird rag doll position called Walcher’s position to try and get baby to drop. I went back to my back. I went back to my side. I felt EVERYTHING. The epidural was GONE. By the time 2.5 hours hit, I was hysterical and exhausted. I wanted to give up so bad and throw the towel in and opt for a c-section. I was losing my focus, but my team kept me on track. I started to lose hope after being started on antibiotics for a 102 degree fever I broke during labor. Everything seemed to be stacking up against me and my ideal of how my labor would go. Our last resort was on all fours. I don’t know if it was because my midwife said, “I’ll give it two more contractions and we’ll talk options on what to do next.” All I thought of was forceps, vacuums, episiotomies, and c-section. ALL things that I wanted to avoid.
If I thought I dug deep for the Athens Marathon, you’d be surprised at how deep I had to dig to get this baby out. The entire 2.5 hours before that I was screaming and crying. The last 30 minutes, I pulled focused, stayed quiet, did my breathing, and pushed that motherfxcker out. As soon as I felt his head pop out, it was just a burst of adrenaline to get the rest of him out.
At 12:55 PM, my baby boy was born. Would I do that again? Right now, no. I’m thinking “one and done.” I know in a few months, I’ll forget it was like and I’ll want to give my boy a sibling. Until then, I will cherish my cone-headed baby. I am overjoyed with how beautiful my son is. I am SO grateful for the support I had at the bedside. I couldn’t have done it without them. If there’s anything I aspire to be, it’s to be like the nurses and midwives I’ve had work with me during my labor.