There is much to blog about of the happenings in our lives these past few months, especially with them being Bennett's first few months of life, but before I can get to any of that I feel a strong urge to take this rare free moment to write my memory of Bennett's birth before my sleep deprived shrinking brain decides to evaporate it down to: my water broke, I had contractions, I pushed and Baby Boy was here! Because truly, it was one of the BEST days of my life and I would really like to hold on to it's memory in it's entirety, not just for me, but for Bennett and Marin too.
Around 2am on June 29, 2010, I awakened for no other reason than to turn from my right side to my left in a futile attempt to sleep more comfortably. At 9.5 months pregnant "comfort" was merely a concept for me, not really a possible reality. I probably turned from side to side at least 25 times per night in my relentless search for comfort each night. But for some reason this one particular turnover at 2am on June 29th began my son's grand entrance into this world. My water broke. I was afraid of this. Supposedly only 10% of pregnant women actually have their water break before going in to labor. LUCKY ME! It's not really that big of a deal except that in today's "fast paced" society it pretty much guarantees a quick and potent dose of pitocin a drug that quickly induces active labor - my least favorite drug in the world! This is, of course, unless you are able to find an AWESOME doctor (like mine) who is willing to be flexible and let a woman's body do naturally what it was designed to do - birth a baby!
I knew my water breaking pre-labor was a distinct possibility. This is what happened with Marin as well - just like you see in the movies. I stood up and swhooooosh! I was instantly standing in a pool of "water". The doctor/nurses that delivered Marin gave my body a little less than 1 hour to kickstart itself before they started pushing the dreaded pitocin and ultimately rendering all of our hours of research and education on natural childbirth useless and un-useable, until NOW. I now know that it takes my body about 12 hours from the time my water breaks to starting active labor -- good to know! I've come to discover that pretty much all hospitals and all OB's prefer a laboring woman to have two things: pitocin and an epidural. These two things allow the doctors/nurses about 98% control over all labor and delivery situations (I leave 2% to chance because NOTHING is certain in childbirth). They want speed (so they can get on to the next patient or go home, depending at what point of their on call shift they are) and they want easy, pain-free patients because those patients are less annoying. I get it. I totally understand those "wants", but as a healthy, educated and eager patient I have some "wants" too. I want to know that I'm doing what is best for my new baby and for me. I also want to know what my own body is naturally capable of. I have to believe that all of those BUTTBUSTER swim workouts in high school and college prepared me for SOMETHING in life and I figured that childbirth just might be it.
So, let's get back to 2am. My water breaks in bed. Tom and I immediately get up, excited and ready. About 2 minutes later we hear a loud bang and then the electricity goes out, in the entire neighborhood! Apparently my water breaking had a ripple effect and caused a large circuit breaker to blow-out, down the street. Unfortunately the "electricity" in my body seemed to go out as well. I was having next to no contractions and the few that I did have were very weak. So I started doing leg lunges and squats alternating with trips up and down the two little flights of stairs we have in our house, with Tom at my side, holding a flashlight as I climbed and descended so as not to trip in the black darkness. This didn't seem to work, so I decided to take a nap in the recliner until I had to get ready for my 9am Dr.'s appt. There were a few more weak contractions, but nothing strong and/or regular. So at 9am Tom, my sister Catherine and I hoped in the car to set off for my appt. while my mom (Grandma Mac) stayed at home with Marin. I was really hoping that the Doc would check me out and then send me home to "labor" some more on my own. Unfortunately the monitor was picking up an irregularity in Bennett's heartbeat (everything is fine now) and so for no other reason than that my Dr. wanted me to check in to the Labor and Delivery unit at the hospital. So we went home, gathered our "childbirth" belongings and headed to the hospital.
I was bummed because I knew that the longer I was in the hospital, the higher my chances were of being "poisoned" by pitocin (ok, slight exaggeration, but I SOOOOO hate that drug). At this point it's about noon and still no "real" contractions. A different dr. from the practice was on call at the hospital when we first got there and every time she came into my room to check on me she kept threatening me with pitocin. I kept begging and begging for "just a little longer", "please not yet"!! Finally, right when they were getting ready to start hooking up the pitocin and right as the dr. shift change occurred (around 2pm) my contractions starting coming in relatively regular waves. Thank Goodness!! Up to this point we were all pretty bored. Cath, in the early stages of her first pregnancy and eager to see what the child-birthing experience was all about, was currently sound asleep in a chair and poor Tom was nervously trying to get the correct songs and perfect volume going on the little ipod speaker system we had brought with us. The boredom lasted a couple of hours. As the labor progressed and the contractions started getting good and painful on me, I had to eventually shamefully tell Tom that I really needed my headphones and my OWN control of the ipod to get me through. At one point I really started doubting myself and wondered if it was too late to get that stupid epidural. I was exhausted and I knew the worst was yet to come. Thankfully my awesome husband and fabulous sister were there to push me and encourage me. As Tom rubbed my feet, the two of them kept insisting that they knew I could do it. I really needed that. Then, my wonderful nurse informed me that I had another option. She said she could give me a quick dose of something (I never did find out exactly what drug this was which is probably a good thing because I liked it a little TOO much). Anyhow, as my nurse said, it was a quick shot of yumminess that was in and out of my system in less than an hour, but gave me an absolute blissful, hypnotic, intoxicating hour of rest, which was just what I needed. Exactly as my nurse informed me, it didn't take away the feeling or pain of the contractions, but it made me "less aware" of them. Yes indeed. I was in some other world during that hour and it was GREAT!
Then the hour was over and it was back to work. Thankfully things really started moving. The pain escalated quickly and I was getting less and less rest between contractions and they were getting more and more painful. Honestly, as I recently told one of my old swimming friends, up until this point there was nothing that I was experiencing that was any more painful than some of my most painful swim races and workouts -- it's just that they duration of the pain was a bit longer, but absolutely doable. Then the real challenge began. The contractions were making me yell now. I had my ipod on full blast repeating U2's "Where the Streets Have No Name" and "Miracle Drug" (my new "GO TO" songs when I need a mental push). I think my Doc was laughing at me and my ipod, but as Tom and Cath would probably confirm, I don't think I could have gotten through it as well without my music! I would pull out one headphone to ask if I could push then I put it right back in :) Plus, the next day as we were laughing about my ipod addiction during labor, Cath informed me that my Dr., while sitting on my bed waiting for the next contraction to hit, was on his iphone texting his teenage daughter about going to see the latest installment in the "Twilight" saga at the movies that night --- HILARIOUS!! I had no idea, thanks to my trusty ipod. I thought my awesome Dr. was using his iphone to chart my contractions or measure my level of pain or something else extremely scientific and focused on the task at hand.
All in all, I think it was about 15 minutes of Cath holding my left leg, Tom holding my right, U2 blasting in my ears, me yelling and writhing in pain and then VOILA -- Bennett Thomas was born at 5:39pm! It was such an overwhelming rush of relief, joy and accomplishment all bundled together and immediately there was the greatest gift handed to me to hold and love FOREVER. He was 8lbs and ready to eat!! It was beautiful and hilarious all at the same time. As he's coming out and I'm literally about to vomit from the pain, my Dr. exclaims "what a huge head" and I'm thinking "yeah, no kidding". A moment later he exclaims "wow, huge hands too!" and I'm thinking "ok, great, can I push again now" and then the finale was kicked off when he exclaimed "It's definitely a boy -- LOOK AT THOSE HUGE BALLS!!!". I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, vomit, scream or collapse. Then Bennett was in my arms, screaming himself (probably because he was ticked at the doc for saying those things about him!) and I was in heaven. It was an amazing moment in my life and I am SO grateful that I was able to appreciate it to the fullest, mentally, physically and emotionally without feeling hazy or otherwise mentally incapacitated in any other way.
Bennett is now 11 weeks old and he is the sweetest little red-headed, thumb sucking nugget of joy. Although sleep is a hot commodity these days, the concept of "comfort" has slowly eased back into my world and confident happiness is a contagious sentiment that resonates in the walls of our house with each new giggle from Marin and Bennett, especially when they are giggling together.
