Madeline's birth story

Let me begin by saying that I am not writing this for you. I don’t mean that in a negative way at all, so please do not interpret it that way. The only reason I’m sharing the below story in such detail is because I went back and read a few friends’ birth stories and it helped me deal with Madeline’s difficult labor. Writing Madeline’s birth story has also helped me deal with her birth, although it has come with many, many tears. This is also very long (a 27-hour labor yields a long story), exceedingly personal and extremely detailed. Read it if you wish, or just scroll down and look at the pictures :-)

I woke up at 3:45 a.m. September 14th in pain, and my first thought was, “Eh, I’ve felt this before.” And off I trotted to the bathroom for the 20th time that night. I crawled back in bed and the pain intensified so I relaxed and attempted to sleep. After a little while, I grabbed my cell phone to start timing the contractions. Something told me that these were not Braxton Hick contractions because they were much more painful than the Braxton Hicks I’d been having off and on. I labored for an hour in bed, periodically looking at my cell phone to get a rough guess of how long the contractions were lasting and the duration between contractions. I woke Craig up at 4:45 and told him I thought I was in labor. He jumped out of bed and fired up his work computer to begin his Monday morning reporting. I decided to try the Bradley five to test if the labor was real, walking, sleeping (or attempting to sleep), eating, drinking and showering. I started with the shower since I knew if this was real labor, then my opportunity to shower for a little while would be slim. The water felt great and my contractions were not as painful. I even shaved my legs, because who would want to see my hairy legs? I periodically went into the office to talk to Craig, I went down stairs and ate a bowl of cereal, I walked around, I laid down…just kept myself busy. The contractions were regular from the beginning and didn’t slow down no matter what I did.

This was it.

Craig called our doula, Persis, at around 6:45-7 and talked with her for a while. Then, I talked with her for a while. I was lying down in the bed and she asked me to time the contractions. They were happening every five minutes and lasting about two minutes each. The pain was not like I read in my books, or learned in my classes. It immediately peaked and stayed in my abdomen for the first minute of the contraction, then the pain radiated to my lower back for a minute where it would slowly taper down. Persis told me that she was glad I was conserving my energy by lying down, but that she thought Madeline was OP.

Persis told me to stand up and time the contractions. When I stood up, the pain immediately lessened and the contractions lasted about a minute a piece. I’m no dummy, and I didn’t lay down for the rest of the labor, unless I was forced to. Persis told me to rock my pelvis to encourage the baby to turn into the correct position. Since Persis lived an hour away and it was rush hour, she said she would leave her house a little later. I was fine laboring at home and we were to call her if anything changed. I finally went into the office around 8:30-9 and told Craig it was time for him to shut down his computer --- I needed him. The contractions were much more intense and regularly occurring every three minutes and lasting a minute a piece. I emailed my office and told them I was going having a baby! Craig labored with me for the next hour and a half. I chickened out and wanted to go to the hospital. My mother’s longest labor was three hours and I didn’t want Madeline to come at home. Persis was rerouted to meet us at the hospital and I was checked and admitted to the hospital around 11 a.m. at 6 cm dilated, 100% effaced and Madeline was at -1/-2. The triage nurse told me that I must be serious about a drug-free labor, wished me luck and gave her congratulations. The contractions were still very regular, every three minutes and lasting one minute a piece. I had been in labor for more than seven hours and still felt great.

My midwife came to the hospital and told me that she was going to let me labor on my own, without interference and without being checked (unless I wanted it). I was to inform her if I felt the urge to push and was to be on the fetal monitor for 15 minutes every hour. I was free to walk around, eat and drink, and basically do whatever I needed to do. I felt extremely encouraged, exhilarated and was convinced I could successfully birth my daughter without drugs or interventions. Persis and Craig let me lean on them and helped me work through the contractions. I walked the halls with Craig, played music and literally leaned on Craig when the contractions hit me. I sat down to rest when I needed it, but never laid down. Persis made me get on the bed with my rear high in the air and she tried some external maneuvers to get Madeline to turn (although we didn’t know for sure if she was OP). I chatted happily with Persis and Craig between contractions. Things were great.



They made me take a sip of water after every contraction, made me drink juice and attempted to make me eat. My appetite was non-existent and anything remotely sweet repulsed me. I eventually ate some gold fish crackers. That turned out to not be a very good idea…I wanted to brush my teeth and I apparently triggered my gag reflex and vomited up all the gold fish in the bathroom sink a little later on. I had felt nauseous and if anything came near my neck I thought I was going to puke (you can see me reach for my neck in the above video). Nausea during labor, a good sign, right?

I don’t remember exactly when the midwife came to check me, but it was after close of business. I was 8 cm and Madeline was still at -1/-2. I was disappointed. I was getting exhausted after 15-16 hours of labor and I had only progressed 2 cm since checking into the hospital. Everyone told Craig and me that we would have a baby "that afternoon!" When afternoon came and went and evening appeared and there was no baby…I began to get discouraged. I remember crying. Crying because I was not sure I could go on. Crying because of the pain. Crying because I began to think of what I was doing wrong. Crying because I began to wonder about an epidural and how wonderful it would feel to be pain-free and possibly get some sleep.

Persis recommended I get in the shower, so I stripped down and went into the shower. Craig was in the bathroom with me and with every contraction, I leaned outside the shower and leaned on him. The contractions got increasingly stronger as the day wore on and even though the shower was helping me deal with the pain, I was in a lot of pain during the contractions. I moaned and tried desperately to remember the Bradley techniques and put them to practice because I knew they helped. I stayed in the shower 45 minutes to an hour, got out and had to be strapped on the monitor. The shower helped me regroup and I got my second wind. I was rejuvenated and determined to power through each contraction until Madeline appeared. She was not in distress and although I was fatigued, I was determined. This was my second wind!

At one point, I was in the middle of a contraction and leaning on Craig and I literally took off into a sprint towards the bathroom and vomited all over the room. I slipped on my vomit in the process and thankfully Craig was right behind me. He caught me under the arms before I hit the floor (and I wondered why my left shoulder hurt in the days following Madeline’s birth until I remembered this event.) With tears streaming down my face, I vomited more in the sink, my legs and feet covered in a mixture of fluids. I apologized to Craig for puking on him and he reassured me that it was completely fine. Persis handed me some mouth wash and Craig helped clean me up. Shortly after, I had 20-30 minutes of back-to-back contractions. Powerful contractions. I hardly had a chance to regroup between contractions before another one hit me. I remember telling Craig that I thought I was going through transition and, while I was in tremendous pain, I was thrilled because I just knew it was transition and I was going to emerge at 10 cm and I was going to be able to push soon. It was almost baby time. The midwife asked me if I felt the urge to push and I was uncertain, but thought maybe?

At around midnight I was checked again. 8 cm and -1. I began to cry again. The feeling of complete fatigue, failure and disheartened defeat overwhelmed me again. The midwife asked me if I wanted anything to deal with the pain. I refused, but inside I was completely falling apart and wanted to say yes.

There was a hydrotherapy tub and Persis said nipple stimulation, either by the water jets or manual stimulation, would help. The tub was set up and Craig and I were left in the room alone. Craig stimulated my nipples and the contractions began to pick up in intensity again. The 45 minutes I was in the tub were probably the most difficult and most painful part of the natural labor. The contractions intensified so much, that my moaning was probably heard throughout the hallway and the floors above and below mine. I didn’t care. I know it tore Craig up to put me in such pain, but he continued to assist me and I continued to labor. Had I known that it would do nothing and would only cause my contractions to strengthen and remain strong, I would have never agreed to this natural method.

And I was still 8 cm and Madeline was still at -1.

The midwife told Craig something needed to change and we agreed to break my water. The midwife felt inside me and confirmed that Madeline was OP. Madeline was starting to show signs of distress, nothing life threatening or needing immediate attention, but her heart rate was dropping a tad with every contraction. I labored for a while longer, my entire body was shaking, I could barely talk, see straight or collect my thoughts. And I didn’t progress anymore. I had made the decision to take Demerol to "take the edge off" and it was ordered. I looked at Persis and asked her if it was the right choice. She hesitated giving me a response and I told her we were paying her for her expertise and I wanted her advice. She told me Demerol would do nothing at this point and maybe last an hour. I told her I wanted the epidural. Right at 3 am, between violently shaking contractions, I got the epidural. Before the anesthesiologist came into the room, and with tears streaming down my face, I asked Craig if I failed our daughter. He later told me that he almost lost it in front of me at that point. He did make calls to family members and cried on the phone with them, but I only saw an incredibly strong husband. The minute he came back into the labor room, he was my rock. He told me I did not fail our daughter, but I still felt like I had.

I leaned on Craig, said a prayer and the needle was inserted. I know epidurals are supposed to take time to take effect, but I immediately felt relief. With an epidural came pitocin and possibly other drugs. Once the epidural took full effect, the midwife attempted to turn Madeline the correct direction. She stuck her entire hand inside me. Even though I had an epidural, I was crippled with pain. I asked the midwife to stop and she told me once she started, she could not stop, otherwise it was all for nothing. Madeline responded and turned partially. A probe was placed on her head that would move if she moved and let the midwife know if she fully turned. Shortly thereafter, I succumbed to sleep. IVs and other leads were inside and out of me and I woke up with my arm cramped. I moved positions slightly and drifted in and out. When I was checked, I was 10 cm and Madeline had descended to 0 station.

It was time to push.

Since I had the epidural, I didn’t know when to push. I was coached when to push and finally began to feel the urge myself. The attendants were encouraged by that, thus I was encouraged. I pushed for an hour and a half and was checked.

It was around 5:15 am; 25 and a half hours after my labor began. And Madeline was still a 0 station.

We were quickly running out of options. Craig went outside to talk to the midwife. A cesarean was going to be scheduled. Craig told the midwife that he wanted to be the one to tell me. Craig came in, asked everyone to leave the room, and told me that Madeline was not coming out and that I needed a cesarean. In my mind, I knew I didn’t have any more energy. I had not eaten in more than a day. I had labored without drugs for more than 23 hours. I desperately needed sleep. For at least 15-16 hours of the labor I only went from 6 cm – 8 cm and without Madeline engaging the pelvis. I knew I needed the cesarean. My exact words were, "Let’s get this show on the road." We shared a laugh together.

But the pitocin was still dripping and I was feeling the urge to push. For an additional 30 minutes, I pushed nonstop while Craig held me. I was told to not push, but it is impossible to not push when the urge is so strong. Craig held me so tightly.

At 6 am, I was wheeled into the operating room. I remember activity and lots of lights, but I was so exhausted, that I actually fell asleep on the operating room table. I remember a large Hispanic man kept asking me what I felt and my response every time was, "pressure." I later found out that this man was the anesthesiologist – it made sense why he kept talking to me!

Craig leaned to me and told me, "This is it!" I woke up. I didn’t want to miss this moment.

"This is it!"

Madeline’s cries filled the room before she was even removed from my abdomen and she emerged at 6:52 am and weighed in at 8 pounds 15 ounces, 22 inches long and a 14 inch head. You could visibly see where her head was misshapen on one side from the two hours of pushing. She was a big girl. Craig saw her first and started snapping pictures and came back and showed them to me. We both had tears in our eyes, but this time, they were happy tears.

Craig holds Madeline for the first time

Dealing with her birth, grieving the process, and overcoming the disappointment in knowing that I was unable to deliver her naturally has been a difficult road for me. I don’t think anyone can quite understand it until they have walked a similar road. I’ve shed many tears reliving her birth and constantly thought of what I could have done differently. I talked to our Bradley instructor. I talked to the midwife. I talked to the doctor. I don’t know what I wanted to hear, but I wanted their take. The "professionals" came up with different conclusions. My Bradley instructor said I could have taken prenatal yoga or gone to regular chiropractic appointments. The midwife and doctor praised my efforts, told me I gave it my all, but that Madeline was not coming out any other way than by cesarean. They also said I should be happy.

I hold Madeline for the first timePersis and Madeline

My take was a little different. And after much thought, prayer and tears, I came to one conclusion.

My strength lay in recognizing my weakness.

I had to surrender to my weakness. Surrender my ideals. Surrender my birth plan. Surrender my desires for Madeline’s birth. I had to recognize my weaknesses in order to gain strength. If you’re reading this, then you know I am stubborn. Strong-willed. Dead set in my ways. I had to go through this birth process and fully depend on the Lord. He became my strength, but I had to recognize my weakness first. And I could not deliver Madeline vaginally. God knew how she would enter this world and she entered it in His perfect way. It was not my way or Craig's way, but His perfect way.

I’m impressed if you made it this far and read this whole story. If you did, I hope you were blessed.