Labour
technically started early on Wednesday June 19th - Evelyn’s due date.
Angela messaged me at work in the afternoon to let me know that the
contractions had been ongoing for a while, but not to worry too much as
they were far apart, short, and with no steady pattern. We monitored the
contractions using a web-app called contraction timer - which lets you
just press a button whenever a contraction starts/stops and then keeps a
running record of the length of the contractions and the time between
them - a much simpler system than a clock and stopwatch! From the
prenatal courses I knew we would be waiting for them to be 5 minutes
apart, 1 minute long, and sustained for at least 1 hour (the legendary
“5-1-1”) so when they were sporadic, 20 minutes apart and less than 20
seconds in duration I knew we had some time.
I
got home from work around 5:30 and we had a fairly normal evening, we
just kept running the contraction timer and waiting to get closer to the
5-1-1 mark. After dinner and a walk we watched some TV. It looked
increasingly like the baby was on the way as the contractions moved
closer together and got a little bit longer. Around 11pm we got a crash
course on the “tens machine” we had borrowed - a small electric shock
machine used to reduce the pain of contractions. We weren’t sure how
well it would work, but it ended up being extremely helpful over the
next 12 hours.
With
the tens machine applied we cozied up on the couch and watched a Louis
C.K comedy special. One of the surprises from the prenatal course was
hearing about how much time you would kill between labour and delivery -
and that watching a movie was something you could probably do together
to pass time. It seemed laughable at the time, but there we were taking
the advice to try and see if some laughs would help jiggle Evelyn down
the birth canal.
By
about 1:30am the contractions were coming steadily 2 minutes apart but
lasting only 30-40 seconds. This was one point where my research and
training failed - I was looking for the magical 5-1-1, and instead
getting the less obvious 2-0.5-1; what did that mean? Was 2 out of 3
good enough? We decided to call the midwife and let her know, and she
asked a few questions before driving over to our house. She arrived
around 2am and did a few tests, informing us Angela was between 3 and 4
centimeters dilated (10 being the target for delivery), and indicating
we were definitely having a baby in the next day, probably within 4-5
hours.
The
next 3 hours were spent at home in the middle of the night just making
it through the contractions and waiting for an increase in dilation. We
walked outside a few times, and made use of other tricks from the
prenatal course such as an exercise ball, rocking chair, and back
massages. After what seemed like an eternity (it was now 4am and lack of
sleep was fighting with the adrenaline and excitement), the midwife
checked again and informed us Angela was now 4 centimeters... basically
little or no progress after 3 hours. It was decided nonetheless that we
would head to the hospital. I called my parents to let them know - as
the midwife expected we would deliver by 8am, 9am at the latest.
We
arrived at the hospital at 5am (I saw my parents pull in as we were
entering the hospital) and went through another 2 hours of contractions
as Angela progressed to 8 centimeters. The midwives all remarked on how
well Angela was handling the pain, but eventually Angela told me she
thought she was at her threshold and wanted to talk about getting an
epidural. It wasn’t long until we brought it up with the midwife, who
said that since Angela had delivered two kids naturally this one would
be a snap, be over soon, and basically dismissed the idea of an epidural
rather than providing us with pros/cons and asking us to choose.
Instead she asked if we would like to break the water to speed things
up, and we agreed to try that. Unfortunately the only effect it had
seemed to be to increase the pain of the contractions. At this point I
was getting upset with the midwives for what seemed to be chronically
inaccurate and seemingly bad advice, and by the fact they were providing
very little communication or encouragement to us. As Angela suffered
through the contractions they would generally sit in silence or discuss
scheduling issues for the week with one another. As my wife suffered
through unimaginable pain I kind of expected a little more compassion
and support (especially reassurance) from people who are supposed to be
experts at this.
At
8cm with the water broken and many painful contractions passed,
something happened that got the midwives moving as they put their rubber
gloves on, adjusted the delivery bed, brought various tools out and
assumed positions around Angela. I was certain that this must be the
moment - a few more contractions and we’d see our baby. The contractions
continued to get more intense, and she was now told to push with them. I
was holding her and blinking back tears at the mix of fear and terror
for my wife and the imminent euphoria of my daughter coming into the
world.
It
wasn’t long before the body language of the midwives showed that things
weren’t that close. They said the cervix was still in the way, made
some extremely painful attempts to manipulate it, and then put away the
tools and took off their gloves and went back to passive mode. I went
from that brink of euphoria to a horrible feeling of desolation. The
contractions were becoming too much for Angela and the only solutions
our support team offered were more pain: stand up, walk around, go in
the shower, lift one leg up while standing... they even suggested
delivering the baby in the toilet (what the fuck?).
Finally
we demanded an epidural, which I think the midwives finally came to
grips with how bad they were fucking this up for us. Angela had asked
about it an hour ago, and was now in intense pain with a delivery that
had stalled. We were not getting the easy breeze delivery we had been
promised and were now well into overtime from that “definitely by 9am”
prediction. They agreed to get the epidural underway with the
anaesthesiologist right away, and I finally felt a sense of both
progress and relief that we could do something productive for Angela
instead of prescribing increasingly painful and consistently ineffective
ideas.
This
was the point where I had my first contact with the hospital staff at
Montfort, and it was simply night and day compared to what had been
happening with the midwives. They were professional, competent, polite,
and constantly communicated what was happening and why. A nurse applied
the IV (after the midwives stabbed Angela twice and failed both times)
and the anesthesiologist came shortly thereafter to prepare the epidural
itself. He began explaining the procedure and Angela waved him off and
told him to just do it. I certainly didn’t disagree, but we missed the
one piece of information that would have been helpful as a result - that
she controlled the flow of medicine through a button. We didnt figure
this out until she commented that the pain seemed to be coming back and
getting worse - but it was a fairly easy fix once the button was pointed
out.
About
20 or 30 minutes after getting the epidural setup Angela was able to
relax and fall asleep. She had been awake for some 30 hours and in
intense labour at the hospital for 6. Two of the three midwives went to
nap while the other continued to monitor Angela and the baby. I took the
time to visit my parents and sister who had been in the waiting room
for hours, and to get some lunch. Around 1pm I was convinced to rest
myself, and fell asleep almost instantly on the pull-out -chair in the
delivery room.
I
awoke to the sounds of “push!” “that’s it!” “we can see the head”,
“you’re doing great”. I groggily sat up to see three midwives gathered
around Angela who was clearly pushing the baby forward. They told me to
come over and see the head. I then was told to take one of her knees and
hold it to brace while she pushed again. This entire part of the
delivery was incredibly surreal. The last time I thought we were
delivering I was focused completely on Angela and how hard she was
trying and how much pain she was in - with the epidural she seemed at
ease, and I was more focused on seeing the progress of the baby. I was
also exhausted and barely awake, and obviously surprised that I had not
been woken up to be with my wife the moment they resumed trying to
delivery my daughter.
It
was maybe 10 minutes after waking up that the baby’s head emerged face
down, followed shortly by the rest of her body (we quickly confirmed it
was a girl - no need to re-do the nursery!). She was far quieter than I
expected, letting out just a small cry to let us know she could. One of
the midwives handed me the scissors to cut the umbillical cord - which I
held onto awkwardly for several minutes as I wanted nothing sharp
anywhere near my daughter, and they had not yet prepared the cord for me
to cut. Once they clamped the umbellical cord on each end I cut through
it to complete Evelyn’s transition from the womb to the world. It was
surprising that it actually took several cuts to sever, as I kind of
figured it would be one cut to slice through the entire thing.
As
she was placed on Angela’s stomach for skin to skin contact I literally
lost my breath for a few seconds as I just looked at her. I had never
had any idea what she might look like when she was born, but her eyes
were open and she was looking around quietly. She did not look
traumatized in the slightest or even surprised, if anything she seemed
curious and thoughtful as she looked at her new surroundings and these
people who hopefully sounded a little familiar. As anyone would expect
the terror of the previous 3 hours quickly faded under the glow of our
child; this little person with a life now stretching out before her.
And
so it was that our daughter Evelyn River Hartwick was born - at 2:23pm
on June 20th, weighing in at 9lbs 3 oz and 54 cm long.
No comments:
Post a Comment