Rhett's Birth: Part III, Fast and Furious

Warning: I'm not sparing the details, so if you're opposed to reading about childbirth beyond the stork, read no further!  Reading detailed birth stories was a big part of my preparation, so I want to put it all out there in case it is helpful for someone else, and for my own memory.  

We left the house just after 8:00 p.m. and drove to the hospital with the AC on the coolest setting and all vents pointed directly at me.  Apparently I told Jonathan that an air conditioner had never felt so good.  We arrived at the hospital at around 8:15 p.m.  Jonathan parked the car and grabbed my bag, and I sat in the car for a moment to ride out a contraction.  When it passed, we crossed the parking lot, but by the time we hit the sidewalk in front of the hospital I had to stop and hold on to Jonathan when another one hit.  We continued in this way all the way up to labor and delivery: into the hospital, stop in front of the elevators, up the elevator, stop just outside the doors.  Jonathan grabbed my wallet and began to check me in as I leaned up against the wall just outside the elevator, still breathing through more contractions.  When he beckoned me over to the check-in window it was all I could do to cross the room.  

The nurse at reception asked how far apart my contractions were coming.  I said three minutes.  Next to me, Jonathan shook his head.  "One minute, max," he told her.  They walked me straight back to triage.  The nurse left me alone to change into my hospital gown, and I distinctly remember looking at the clock when she shut the door: 8:30 p.m.  Once dressed, I attempted to resume my focus and to find a comfortable position.  I tried sitting on the bed, then leaning forward on it, but each time I changed positions my body instantly alerted me that those positions weren't right.  The only way I was comfortable was standing completely straight, cradling the bottom of my belly with my hands, and rocking side to side.  

The triage nurses came in and began their string of questions.  One of the first was if I wanted an epidural.  It took every ounce of that commitment I had made to say no.  They tested the fluid that continued to run down my legs and confirmed that my water had broken.  At some point after confirming I was not the victim of abuse, they sent for Jonathan.  He later said that he had watched half of "Up All Night" in the waiting room, so he came in around 8:45 p.m.  The nurse checked me for the first time and enthusiastically proclaimed that I was at 8 centimeters.  I was so relieved to know that the intensity of what I was feeling was due to the fact that I had begun the transition stage. 

At this point, Rhett's heart rate began to drop.  They asked me to lay on my left side, and luckily this position felt very comfortable.  I stayed in that exact position until it was time to push about 20 minutes later.  I was completely in the zone: laying on my side, holding the railing at the side of the bed, eyes closed, breathing deeply through each contraction, completely relaxed.  Occasionally, Jonathan would mention a brief reminder to relax a certain area that he could see was tense (usually my jaw from clenching my teeth), or to remind me to breathe deeply from my diaphragm and not from my chest.  Other than that, I had completely tuned out the entire room and was focused on staying as relaxed as possible as each contraction hit.  

At around 9:00 p.m. they wheeled me down the hall to a delivery room.  Only when they asked me to move from the triage gurney to the delivery bed did I move from that focused position on my left side, and I resumed that position immediately.  At this point, things began to move very quickly and to feel very out-of-body.  Looking back, it is fascinating to think about how my body knew exactly what to do, and that because I had stayed relaxed and focused I was able to just surrender to the process.  I probably had two or three more very intense contractions once we were situated in the delivery room.

On the next contraction, I was pushing.  The undeniable urge to push that every natural childbirth resource mentions had hit, and there was no ignoring or resisting.  Still laying on my side, I pushed involuntarily several times during the contraction.  It was such a relief from the pain, and the only thing I can compare it to is when you've had terrible stomach pains and are finally able to go to the bathroom.  Gross, but true.  

The nurse heard me groan as I pushed and urged me to hang on for just a minute.  The doctor was coming from the other hospital and would be there soon.  I had one more contraction, still pushing involuntarily, when the doctor arrived.  She washed her hands, put on her gloves, and sat down at the foot of my bed to check me.  She said that I was almost at a 10 but that she could still feel a rim to my cervix.  She was about to start an IV of fluid and to put an internal monitor on Rhett's head because of his declining heart rate, but first she asked me to get on my hands and knees to see if that helped.  I did as she asked, and the nurse put an oxygen mask on my face.  Just as I assumed the position another contraction began and I pushed again.  

"Are you pushing?" the doctor asked.  "YES!" I said.  She had not been there to notice my previous contractions when I had already been pushing.  "Then flip over!" she said.  I did--flipping off the oxygen mask as I turned--and at this point I heard her say, "Sweetie, you're going to have to open your legs" and Jonathan saying, "Leslie, do what you need to do to push!"

Apparently, I was so disoriented from changing positions so quickly while in pain--and with my eyes closed--that when I flipped over I was sitting with my feet on the bed, knees up, legs glued together, and hands pressed into the bed behind me.  Jonathan said it was only for a split second, but that the doctor and nurse were giggling just a bit.  As soon as I heard Jonathan's voice, I remembered the correct position for pushing in the Bradley method--elbows up and out--and was able to snap back into the moment.  

I pushed three times, and felt three distinct sensations with each push.  On the first push, I felt Rhett crowning and the accompanying "ring of fire" burning.  This had been one of my biggest anxieties of labor: anything with that name has to hurt!  And it did, but it lasted for a split second and was gone.  On the second push, I felt his head emerge completely.  On the third push--the most amazing moment to me--I felt the rest of his body slide out.  

Since my delivery had happened so quickly, there had not been any time for the traditional preparations. No one broke down the bottom of the bed, no one put up the stirrups, no one brought in lights or draping or special gowns for the doctor.  When I finally opened my eyes, I looked down to see Rhett just laying there on the blankets at the foot of the bed, next to my doctor who was sitting on the bed with the nurse.  

They handed him straight to me.  I know many women would much rather have their babies scrubbed down and blanketed up before they hold them for the first time, but with both of my boys that instant of holding their squirmy, slippery, warm little bodies straight from my womb have been the most amazing moments of my life.  Absolutely, indescribably beautiful.  

The surge of adrenaline that followed was amazing.  I felt completely energized and alert, with no pain whatsoever.  All of the resources I had packed for delivery remained in my bag untouched--no labor play list, no massage oil bar.  Had I even wanted an epidural, there would not have been the time.  I had run my marathon and finished well.  No one gave me a trophy, and Rhett won't go around with a tattoo that says "My Mom gave birth to me without drugs."  But for the rest of my life, I will know that I did it, and that's all that I wanted in the first place.