I wrote Keshi’s birth story a while back and never got around to Sachin’s, because Sachin’s was a teeny, tiny bit traumatic. Five years later, I’m almost over it. Not quite.
I cannot for the life of me find a good pregnant-with-Sachin photo, so you get one of my messy living room.
For whatever reason, I swallowed the myth that if first pregnancies and first babies were difficult, then you were somehow due by the Universe a better time. Other myths I believed: you will give birth earlier with a second (or subsequent) kid, your labor will be easier, people will be nicer to you because you are pregnant AND have another kid with you at most times in public. Ha. Haaa.
I gave birth to my first son when I was 6 days away from my due date, so I convinced myself that was going to happen with this baby. It HAD to happen, because his due date happened to be my birthday. And you know what I didn’t want? I didn’t want to share my fucking birthday. I’d never have another birthday AGAIN. Gah. So I was SURE this kid was going to be born any day but that day.
When I passed the 39 week mark and I still hadn’t had so much as a peep from the baby, I started to panic. I don’t know why I panicked, except that maybe I was really, really sick of being pregnant and I was also a little bit dumb to believe that I HAD to have this kid sooner rather than later. Oh, and he was also measuring extra super duper huge, and I’d been told by my (former) OB that I couldn’t birth a big baby. (That OB got fired. By me, I mean.) So I was a little bit panicky that I was gestating some kind of Godzilla that never wanted to leave the comforts of my womb, and that is how I will explain one of the stupidest things I have ever done in my entire life, which my husband ardently tried to talk me out of, and failed.
I took castor oil. I was 5 days away from my due date, so there was still plenty of time! Plenty! But I was having a few contractions and, as I said above, I was a little bit dumb. I took a dose of castor oil and the worst thing happened.
It worked. But not enough.
I started to have regular contractions that day, four minutes apart, about 30 seconds long. We called my sister-in-law and her husband to spend the night with Keshi while I moaned and labored in the bathtub, trying to get as much laboring in at home as possible. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, around 10pm, Gregg took me to the university hospital to have this baby.
Hooray! I was having a baby! I went through L&D, checked in, got a room and…my labor stopped. It totally and completely stalled out. I waited around for two hours and only had a few sporadic contractions. I talked with my midwife and she said I could stay, but I’d had a traumatic experience with Pitocin and a C-section and was convinced they weren’t going to do that to me again. So I went home. I was in labor and I went home.
And then the worst thing after the worst thing happened. My contractions started up, strong and painful, but at weird, irregular intervals. In the middle of the night. In the grocery store. While going on walks. I thought for sure they would get more regular, and so I breathed through them and told myself that soon, soon I’d be able to go back and have this baby! I was sure of it! Painful, awful contractions were SURE to make this delivery easy!
This is where, if I were in a movie, the music in a minor key would start playing in the background. Because I went through two more sleepless days and night like this. TWO. DAYS. OF. CONTRACTIONS.
When Monday morning rolled around, I tried to tell Gregg to go to work and I’d be fine. He, wisely, stayed home. By four PM, my midwife from Saturday night called me. “Did you have the baby at home?”
“Uh, no, I’m still in labor.”
She told me to get my butt back in to the hospital, and so I did. We got to L&D and explained the situation, and every other woman in the entire Seattle area was giving birth on that ward. Even women who weren’t pregnant. Even some men. EVERYONE WAS GIVING BIRTH. They had no room at the inn for me and my not-direly-in-labor ass.
So they…checked me into the maternity ward. With the new mothers. My midwife put me on a morphine drip to try and help me sleep, since I was so exhausted. Gregg went out and got me a gyro and French fries, which I would see again, very, very soon.
And then I tried to sleep. Gregg did sleep on the little roll-out couch. I mostly contracted and waited and closed my eyes and opened my eyes, until about 12:30AM I got up to pee and when I stood up from the toilet, I looked down and saw blood. A whole lot of blood.
I pressed the nurse button manically and called to Gregg. “I’m bleeding oh my god I’m bleeding how can I be bleeding I don’t even feel anything!” The nurse rushed in and saw me and her face paled. And then she looked me over again. “Your IV ripped out. It’s blood from your arm.”
Oh. Goody. As she approached me, a little trickle went down my leg and I said, “Um, and my water just broke. The tiniest bit.”
I was put in a wheelchair and we made our way back up to L&D, but not before the horizon started dipping and I vomited all over everything. In a wheelchair. While waiting for an elevator. With a ripped out IV. After being in labor for almost three days.
ARE YOU SICK OF THIS YET? I sure was.
My midwife looked me over and told me that I was only four centimeters dilated, and we should wait until morning to start some pitocin, but it was surely what I needed, since my contractions were still strong but irregular. So we waited.
Around 9am, after a visit from an anesthesiologist I’m pretty sure was in elementary school who I gave a warning to like, “You do not come near me with drugs or needles without first getting permission from your mommy to be at the hospital,” an L&D nurse came in with Pitocin. By 9;30, I was in active labor, and vomiting a whole, whole lot. I vomited up the gyro. I vomited up the fries. I vomited up the smoothie from two days before. I vomited up my birthday cake I had when I was 10. Everything. I vomited everything, nonstop, so much that the nurse came over to me and injected me with as much anti-nausea medication as I could take. “But I’m going drug free! Because I’m a hippie!” I said over the toilet bowl. She said, ‘This isn’t drugs. This is NECESSARY.” It helped. A little.
But oh, I was also in a whole lot of pain. But I was going to do this PAIN FREE! BECAUSE I WAS DUMB!
By 12:00, I was checked and was…AT A FOUR. Oh my God are you kidding? STILL at a four? The nurse checked with the midwife, and increased my Pitocin drip. And at 12:10, I said, “GAAAAAH I’M DYING.” The L&D nurse had been with me all morning, and looked to Gregg and asked if he could coach me for a few minutes while she grabbed lunch. He nodded unsurely and she left. But I was whimpering so much and complaining that I needed to push. I NEEDED TO PUSH THIS BABY OUT AND I WANTED THE DRUGS RIGHT THIS SECOND.
So the anesthesiologist was called, and I was checked again. This was around 12:20. And you know what? I WAS AT A FRAKKING 10. I was ready to have a baby. I went from a 4 to a 10 in twenty (or fewer) minutes. So. Yeah. I didn’t get any drugs.
And then I pushed, and while it was horrific and hard, it wasn’t nearly as hard as the vomiting and the contractions and the days and days of waiting.
And then this thing came out of me, because human bodies are weird and disgusting and magical, but mostly weird and disgusting.
But it turned out pretty okay.
Want to share with me your birth story? I love those almost as much as How We Met stories.
(And, an aside, here’s a thank you.)
Here is Carter’s birth story. I haven’t done Grant’s yet because of the opposite reason from you…it was so anti climactic that I’m not even sure it actually happened.
http://www.thingscartersays.blogspot.com/2012/03/welcome-carter.html
Oh man. Oof. Birth. Oof.
PS: I went from 4 to 10 in 30 minutes all three times. It’s my Super Power.
Oh, god, that sounds AWFUL. Just awful. Ugh.
Here is Eli’s. Katie’s I haven’t gotten around to you, because I am a terrible person.
http://princessnebraska.wordpress.com/2007/03/
I’m sorry that sucked so much. I have put in a request for a comprehensive re-design of this whole reproductive process. The most pressing matter I want addressed is the part you’ve detailed here. The second matter has to do with the placement of poo parts near happy parts.
Your boys are (or at least WERE) really beautiful. I don’t say that often so you should believe it.
I’ll think about it. My birth story is one of those you hide from pregnant women because they will never want the baby to come out. I came home paralyzed, and H had a HUGE lump on her head. But, she’s okay and I’m okay (and I’m not paralyzed anymore…..)
Your boys are so beautiful, Shalini. Oh my goodness.
Also, I’m not sure a stay at the hospital is complete with ralphing all over everything. I always throw-up there. It bums me out (and is very gross).
Here is Ezra’s birth story:
http://twoadultsonebrownbaby.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-birthday-my-sweet-boy.html
And Iris’ (which, you know, is kind of a bummer):
http://twoadultsonebrownbaby.blogspot.com/2009/11/noah-and-iris.html
OH MAN, your boys are SUPER GORGEOUS!
I love that pic of the two boys – bliss
Mine was super traumatic and I kept saying “but this can’t be happening, I’m only 32 weeks”. yes, it was happening.
here’s mine if you want a read.
http://www.the123blog.com/2009/07/so-birth-story.html
Oh Shalini. Oh my. No wonder you’re not quite over it! But my they are beautiful boys.
Here’s mine. It’s so bizarre to go back and reread that…
http://rambleramble.com/2009/10/01/the-labor-i-didnt-expect/
That is quite a story! Unrelated (or maybe not): You are gorgeous.
I’ve never written Tot’s. I should.
This is Rhys’s: http://notraisingbrats.blogspot.com/2009/01/boys-arrival.html
And here’s Wes’s: http://notraisingbrats.blogspot.com/2009/12/lads-arrival.html
So, that last picture made me cry.
I wrote about Gabe’s birth in THREE LONG POSTS. I’m so narcissistic. (It starts here.) I think I went through an OBSESSED period with birth stories. Now I just want to pretend all that doesn’t happen. Storks!
Oh my gosh, Shalini, that’s just AWFUL! Your boys are gorgeous though. (I’m not sure if you thought it was worth it or not.)
I didn’t know I was pregnant. Had seizures at approximately 36 weeks because my blood pressure was so high. Don’t remember most of delivery (and nothing at all before) – she was breech so they sent us up for an emergency c-section. Traumatic, but not nearly as much as yours!
Look at your beautiful boys! Here’s my birth story, though I’ll warn you that one of the only things it has in common with your birth story is puke. http://www.sangrialover.com/?p=1383
I really can’t relive mine again, and I’m with the girls who say this is the kind you don’t tell the pregnant about. We both survived, I just had a lot of problems and needed some surgeries to recover, and it was a very rough start. But I sure do love my girlie. I stand with the traumatized moms, though. I am always willing to hear what they have to say especially when others will not. I am sorry for your difficult time, dear Shalini. I think we would like to believe a lot of good things about birth experiences, but they aren’t always possible to achieve.
One of my very favorite things is big sibling holding baby sibling pictures. I just love them.
My birth stories are here (and sorry, but my second was ridiculously easy) (that would be Paul, even though I wrote his first):
http://www.jesabes.com/2013/01/margarets-birth-story.html
http://www.jesabes.com/2011/06/pauls-birth-story.html
Here’s my birth story for Baguette. It’s a shortened version, because it doesn’t really go into the random contractions I had for weeks before hand (45 minutes! 37 minutes! 2 minutes! 2 minutes! 8 Minutes! 25 hours! 2 minutes!). Seriously, like two weeks of that.
http://www.tragicsandwich.com/on-pain-meds-during-labor/
I am struck by the crazy similarities between your two birth experiences and my one and only birth experience. I started having small contractions at 24 weeks, and went into labor at 28 weeks. It was the real deal, with full regular contractions getting ever closer together. I was hospitalized and they gave me magnesium sulfate to stop the labor. When I got out of the hospital after five days, I was told to lay down on my left side for the next 12 weeks, and the thought of having a preemie scared me into submission. I followed orders, but even when I got up to go wash a cereal bowl or use the bathroom, I would contract. I always felt like my son was about to fall out of my loins. In week 37, I went in for a check-up and my mid-wife said that since I was in the three week window of my due date, I could start moving around and acting more like a normal pregnant person, so I went for a little walk when I got home. And whadya know? Hours later, my water broke – in little trickles. I thought I maybe just peed a little. But by morning, it was a gusher. Here is the surprising part – all of the contractions that I had been having for that last 13 weeks just stopped. I felt light and free, like I could run a 5K. I went to the hospital and they told me to go outside and walk around and get things going. I put on my running shoes, and my husband and I walked all over the place in the glorious fall sunshine. I walked and walked, and nothing happened. All the pressure I had been feeling on my lady bits was gone. When I walked back into the hospital, they told me they were giving me Pitocin Torture TM. I had no idea what I was in for. It was given to me at 3 pm and nothing happened for hours, and my husband and family sat around waiting, and I ate some ice cream. Then I started contracting but I was only at a one, and that went on for what seemed an eternity. At around 8:00 pm my husband thought he would go home and put the baby seat in the car. He barely made it to the parking ramp to leave the hospital, and I was in full labor, going from a 2 to a 10 in a matter of minutes. The nurse was gobsmacked. She ran for the mid-wife, my mom ran for the phone to call my husband, my sister ran to the hospital entrance to jump in the car and park it, so that my husband could race up to the room. He’s fast, but I was already pushing and freaking out that he wouldn’t make it, but he did make it, and at 9:01 pm, out came my baby boy! Postscript: I too had decided not to have any meds. It hurt like a mother f*cker!
I do not have my own children but I LOVE LOVE LOVE birth stories. Goodness do I. Thanks for sharing yours.
Look at those sweet little faces. So so lovely.
Aaaahhhhh! Flashback panic attack!
I went from four to 10 in about half an hour. Even with an epidural, it was horrid. My uterus feels for you.
You have beautiful babies. I guess we do get a prize at the end when we hold that wiggly little human for the first time and instantly fall in love.
My first labor was 4 days long, almost all of that at home with contractions every half hour or so, but with back labor so bad I couldn’t sleep through them. And I had bronchitis. I can empathize with your pain. My husband was heroic and stayed up with me and massaged my lower back and coached me. Finally, days later, I was ready to push, had had no drugs, and my cocky (female) OB (who had never had a child) walked in scrubbing up and said, “Oh, you’re doing it the hard way, huh?” I almost kicked her in the face I was so mad. Yes, I chose to not have an epidural…and I can choose to fire you, lady. Still makes me want to spit.
The whole experience made me realize how awesome my man is and how much I love him. And to always choose an OB who is a mama.
Shalini, that sounds JUST AWFUL. I love birth stories, but MAN that was even hard to read. I can’t imagine living through it.
My birth stories are here:
Kalena’s: http://vandeblog.com/2008/05/26/birth-story/ By the way, I reread that one and WHOA I sound so nonchalant about the whole outcome, when really the doctor and several nurses basically told us “Good thing you came in when you did otherwise she would have died!”
Will’s (is 3 parts long. SORRY.): http://vandeblog.com/2010/01/04/the-beginning/ http://vandeblog.com/2010/01/05/the-nurse-we-hated/ http://vandeblog.com/2010/01/06/the-arrival/
And Daniel’s (which I know you’ve read, because you commented on it.): http://vandeblog.com/2012/03/19/the-labor-and-delivery/
Also, I’m totally coming back tomorrow and reading everybody else’s stories. (I’d do it now, but it’s past my bedtime!)
I wrote Tot’s over the last day. http://ateenagerandatot.blogspot.com/2013/03/35-years-ago-or-yesterday-tots-birth.html
LOVE birth stories. And up until now I’ve never written about mine, because they would scare pregnant women too much. But I just read some of those linked in the comments above (tears were shed over two adults one brown baby’s posts) and they have inspired me. I have decided I do want to write mine out. Stay tuned.
Thank you for sharing both birth stories! I love them too.
And I’m sorry that Sachin’s birth was so terrible for you (and thrilled that the outcome was so awesome, of course). As a demonstration of how weird and stupid and single-track the human mind can be, though, I have to admit that I’m unbelievably JEALOUS of your birth experience with S. This is because it is my very fondest wish that I have a VBAC with my second child, and I just found out last week that that is very unlikely to happen because I moved across the country to a state where people are very, very conservative with VBACs. I know that this is a DUMB thing to be bummed about, but there it is.
You probably know most of my stories, but I’ll do each baby very briefly:
Baby #1–2 weeks late; had Pitosin; No urge to push; stupid doctor could NOT put in an IV; blind doctor who nearly climbed inside of ME and still missed 90% of the placenta–which was then “born” 9 days later!!
Baby #2–12 days late; very quick (I’m probably the one who told you secoond babies were easy); No urge to push.
Baby #3–Went to the doctor’s office at the hospital by myself with almost no pain; found out I was 4 centimeters dilated; had an enema; everything started like gangbusters; Dad got there all the way from DC–just in time; had no urge to push.
I guess I should have had 12 of them ’cause I sure make it sound easier than you do!!!!!!
I’m sorry….Grammy
You’re boys are just beautiful! Really really cute kids.
My birth stories are normal but I did go a little psycho with my first. I had intense anxiety that something bad would happen to her. I think after the miscarriage, and not being able to get pregnant, I felt worried that I would lose the baby all the way through pregnancy. Then after birth, it really became intense.
I worried normal things like she might stop breathing, to bizarre fears that if I felt depressed or sad that she would be sad through nursing because the sadness intoxicated my milk. (Although I loved nursing). And intense bizarre fears that ..(i cant believe im confessing this) aliens would send brain washing messages through the electric sockets, so I plugged them with those plastic baby proof plugs. I couldn’t sleep. I panicked if I couldn’t see her. It was terrifying.
I didn’t realize how insane I was for Mia’s first three months until after I had my second baby. Which then I just worried normal things again.
Oh, God! I just re-read my comment. What a nutcase! What a frightening nutcase. I’m laughing my butt off, but its true!!
That last picture killed me. I’m dead. Not that the others aren’t beautiful, too, but that one is so very lovely.
My first birth was easy freaky peasy, and the the terror came after when they took my (actually healthy child) to the NICU because they misinterpreted some things. I was having a hard time writing the birth story because of that, but I really should have before writing the birth story of my second (a horror story) because now when I get around to writing the first I will probably describe it as all sunshine and rainbows by comparison, even though it was, you know, giving birth, and by definition not the most comfortable time in my life, but … what’s done is done. If you want to read Genevieve’s birth story, it’s here: http://veronicamarcettidimick.blogspot.com/2012/09/and-then-i-birthed-another-baby.html
Thanks for sharing.
I want to squeeze your kids!
I am late to this, but here are mine.
Teddy’s was a four-part post. The last one is here with links to the previous three: http://www.smacdo03.blogspot.ca/2009/09/teddys-birth-story-part-4.htm
Veronica’s…I never finished. I mean, I got to the part about her actual birth, but I didn’t talk about the post delivery pre-eclampsia I developed. That sucked. The birth was also kinda scary, and the posts can be found here:
http://www.smacdo03.blogspot.ca/2011/04/veronicas-birth-story-part-2.html
oh!!! oh, oh oh. The pushing part always gets the bad rap, but really the LABORING part is exhausting – and yours sounds…um, extra exhausting! But, those beautiful little babes at the end. Just beautiful.