On Thursday, August 6, I went into labor. Kind of. I had been having consistent contractions all day, but I didn't want to start timing them. That day I was exactly 37 weeks pregnant and could officially give birth at Baby + Co., the birth center I had chosen. I thought it was funny that my contractions had started that day and thought that maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Around 2:30pm I finally started timing my contractions. They were about 5-10 minutes apart. They weren't super painful, but my contractions in my first birth never really were either.
Diego got home around 4pm. I'd been having contractions 5-10 minutes apart for an hour and a half and I was now having intense pain on my right side. I got into the tub to try to slow down the contractions, but the pain continued. I called the birth center and they told me to come in because it sounded like I was in active labor.
During the hour drive to the birth center, a million thoughts ran through my head. I was worried that we wouldn't make it in time and the baby would be born on the side of the freeway. The pain on my right side was so intense, but I tried to stay calm and work through it. When we arrived at the birth center the midwife checked my cervix. I was dilated to 4cm. I got in the tub to try to ease the pain.
After about an hour, my contractions had slowed considerably, but the pain in my right side was horrific.
"I don't think this is true labor," one of the midwives told me. My heart sank. If this pain wasn't labor, what was it? I started to get scared that something was seriously wrong with me. This fear only intensified the pain. I got out of the tub and they hooked me up to a machine to monitor my contractions. They were more sporadic now and not painful at all. I stayed at 4cm the entire time.
The midwife had me take an antacid for indigestion and after 4 hours at the birth center, I went home feeling stupid and upset. I tried to wait as long as I could to go in. I didn't want to drag my husband and my two year old daughter all the way to the birth center for a false alarm. But it was a false alarm.
The next day the pain on my right side returned so strong that I was in tears. I finally called the senior missionaries in our ward to give me a ride to the ER. When I got to the ER they took one look at my pregnant belly and told me that I needed to go to Labor & Delivery.
"I'm not in labor, though," I told them firmly as they all gave me incredulous looks. I explained that I wasn't having contractions, just really bad pain on my right side that I was afraid might be something wrong with my gallbladder or appendix. The sent me to Labor & Delivery anyway, and in a wheelchair, even though I insisted that I could walk just fine.
I was in Labor & Delivery for about an hour. They checked my cervix again: still at a 4. They did blood tests to check if anything was wrong with my gallbladder or appendix. The tests all came back fine. The midwife at the hospital told me that it was just round ligament pain and the only way to cure it was to have the baby.
I went home again feeling silly that I had made a big deal out of "nothing." (Even though the excruciating pain on my right side didn't really feel like nothing to me.)
Three weeks passed. Three long, frustrating, emotionally-draining weeks. I continued to have contractions almost every day. The pain on my right side did eventually fade and completely disappear. Some days I would have consistent contractions for two to three hours. I kept thinking, "It's going to be today!" But it wasn't. I didn't want to drive an hour back to the birth center for nothing. I told my husband I wouldn't go back in until my water broke.
At 1am in the morning on August 27, my due date, my water broke. It was like I'd always heard, there was a "pop" and then a gush of water. I jumped out of bed, over Lucia, my two year old, who had decided to join us in bed about 2 hours earlier. I quickly put on a heavy duty pad so that I wouldn't leak all over the place. I woke my husband up and told him that my water had broken and we should start getting our stuff together to leave.
I was having contractions, but because I'd been having them almost every day for three weeks, I hardly even noticed them. But I knew that if my water was broken, and I was dilated to at least a four, the baby was sure to come sometime that day. I was surprisingly calm as I gathered up all of the last minute things on my list and stuffed them into my birth bag. Lucia was awake. I changed her diaper and put shoes on her and told her that her little sister was on her way.
I called the birth center and got their answering service, which is who answers after hours. They put me on hold as they tried to get the midwife on call on the line. They said they couldn't get her but they had left her a message to call me back ASAP. We finished packing up everything in the car and started our hour drive to the birth center.
About 10 minutes into our drive the midwife called. She calmly asked what was up. I explained that my water had broken and we were headed to the birth center.
"Well, hold on," she said, "how are your contractions?" I told her that I'd been having contractions for three weeks and I knew that I was already dilated to at least a 4cm and that we had to drive an hour to get to the birth center. I wasn't sure how fast the baby would come, but I didn't want to take the chance of having her on the side of the road.
"Well, our records show that last time you were only at 2cm," the midwife responded. I don't know what records she was reading, but they certainly weren't mine. She asked me how far apart my contractions were.
"I don't really know, I haven't been timing them," I said. Then I felt one. "Hang on," I said, "I'm having one now." The midwife seemed to think that if I sounded so calm and could talk through a contraction that I must not really be in active labor. I was getting frustrated and tried to explain that I talked all through transition in my first labor.
She told me that there was no one at the birth center, that it wasn't open until 8am.
"Do I have to go to a hospital then?" I asked incredulously. At this point I was on the verge of tears.
She said that we should call when we were about a half hour away and she would head over.
We got to the birth center at 2:45am. When the midwife checked my cervix I was dilated to 6cm. She then believed that I was actually in labor.
It was just me, my husband, Lucia, the midwife, and the nurse at the birth center. I was hoping Lucia would go back to sleep. We put on a movie for her and asked her to lay down, but she didn't fall asleep. She wanted to be with me. I was doing fine, walking around and breathing through contractions which were coming every 3 to 5 minutes. I had messaged a couple of friends that had said they would help with Lucia at the birth center, but I figured they were still asleep.
Around 5am the contractions were getting a little more intense and I decided to get in the tub. Lucia was still awake and quietly playing games on the tablet in the corner of the room. I was worried about her being there when things started getting really intense. In between contractions I was desperately trying to find someone to come and stay with her. I was calling everyone I could think of, but it was still early and most people were still asleep.
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| I love the tub!! |
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| "I think I'll just stay in here forever." |
I listened to a meditation recording that my doula from my first labor had made. It helped me to stay calm and focused through the contractions, which were now coming every 2-3 minutes. I was starting to feel a lot of pressure, but I didn't want to even think about pushing.
I explained to my midwife that pushing was the worst part about my first labor. I pushed for three hours with the nurses and eventually the OB yelling at me to push harder and counting and making me hold my breath. She assured me that this time would be different but I had to get over that mental block that kept me from pushing. We decided that she would check my dilation to see how I was doing around 6:30am.
At 6:30am I was dilated to 8cm. I still hadn't gotten a hold of anyone to take care of Lucia. At this point I figured she could just stay with us, since I was obviously in transition and she was doing just fine.
About an hour later I could feel more pressure with each contraction and I threw up twice. I kept thinking how horrible pushing was and wished I could just stay in the tub and continue having contractions, which I didn't think were so bad. There was another fear, though, besides pushing. It was harder to explain. It was a fear of having another baby. I'd been having a lot of depression in the last 3 weeks and questioning whether or not I was ready to have two children. I wondered if I could love this baby as much as I loved my first. I worried about how this new baby would change our family dynamic. All of these doubts and fears made me want to push even less. I knew that the moment the baby was born, my life would change forever.
Around 8am the first midwife left and two other midwifes came on. These two I had gotten to know a lot better during my prenatal visits and I was so happy to see them. Lucia had finally fallen asleep on the bed in the room.
By this time I knew I was completely dilated and felt like pushing, but I didn't want to. I kept being reassured by the midwifes that I needed to push my baby out, that I didn't need to be afraid. They were right, it was completely different from my first hospital birth. There was no yelling, no telling me to hold my breath and count to 10. But I was still afraid.
Lucia woke up around 9am. I was afraid I would be in labor forever and worried that everyone was getting tired of waiting for this baby to come. The midwifes were patient and kind. They kept reassuring me that I could do this. Around 9:30am, one of the midwifes suggested I try to go to the bathroom to see if that would move the baby's head down further. I finally got out of the tub and hobbled to the bathroom. I thought I would have the baby on the toilet, I kept having an incredible urge to push. While I was on the toilet the midwife checked my dilation one last time. I was at 10cm. I had probably been at 10cm for about an hour.
They suggested I try bearing down on a birthing stool out of the water. I made up my mind that I just needed to get over my fear and push. I squatted on the birth stool and with the next contraction I pushed as hard as I could. It hurt so bad that I started to scream. After 8 hours of laboring in almost complete silence, I was now screaming at the top of my lungs. It was so painful but so exhilarating, like riding a roller coaster. Terrifying, but amazing. Lucia didn't think it was so amazing. My screams scared her and I could hear her on the bed saying, "Mommy?? Mommy?" One of the receptionists from the center came and took her out of the room. I was grateful that she was not alone. My husband was in front of me, coaching me to keep pushing.
On the second push I continued to scream as loud as I could and was able to push my baby out completely. I'd only pushed for about 10 minutes, which was a huge improvement to the 3 hours I'd pushed before. With the help of the midwife I brought my daughter directly up to my chest. I was ecstatic that I had done it, but I noted that the midwifes seemed a bit worried. I noticed there was a lot more blood than normal. In fact, there was blood everywhere.
"Am I hemorrhaging?" I asked, now suddenly concerned. The midwife quickly told me I wasn't, but that I had had a hematoma form while pushing. Apparently, according to my husband, he watched the blood vessel break and fill up with blood to the size of a baseball on the first push. On the second push the blood vessel ruptured and the blood went all over the place (hence all the blood).
They let the blood finish pulsing through the cord while I sat on the birth stool and then Diego was able to cut the cord. They then had me lay on the bed with my baby. She was beautiful, she looked just like Lucia, with a full head of jet black hair. As soon as I was on the bed, Anahi started to breastfeed and I tried to focus on that while the midwife drained the hematoma and stitched me up. I had hardly torn my perineum at all, but the hematoma needed to be stitched.
Because of swelling, more bleeding, and almost passing out twice, I had to be transferred to the hospital, where I stayed for two more days. But that's a postpartum story, not a birth story, and this birth story is long enough.
Besides the hematoma, I had the perfect birth that I wanted. I felt empowered the entire time, especially during pushing, which had been my biggest fear. I was absolutely elated that I had pushed my baby out despite all the pain. I was told later by my midwife that most of that pain I experienced during pushing was probably due to the hematoma forming and rupturing anyway.
So that is my perfect birth story. Just the way I wanted it. At 9:50am, Anahi Micaela Cabrera was born, while I screamed as loud as I could and blood spewed all over the place. It was beautiful and incredible and so real. And I shouldn't have had any fear about my capacity to love her, because I have adored her every second since she came into this world.
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| With the two loves of my life after being transferred to the hospital. |
