I sat in my living room, pumping for the first time. I went for about ten minutes, with no droplets of milk.
That’s because Benaiah was still in my tummy. 🙂
I had read an article about ways you could jumpstart your labor, and pumping was one of those ways. I also tried gently pushing my hands down over my belly, trying to ‘push’ him out.
This was Friday evening and I was ready to meet my son, even if it was two and a half weeks before his due date, February 24. (My original due date was February 14 which matched up better with the date of my last period. I didn’t really believe the 24th was accurate.)
Earlier that week, my doctor had told me I was 4cm dilated and 25% effaced. (For baby go time, you must be 10cm dilated and 100% effaced.) That Tuesday she had told me, “Go ahead and schedule your appointment for next week, but I don’t think you’ll make it until then.”
At this point in time, I was teaching second grade. I planned to teach right up to when Benaiah decided to make his entrance. The week my doctor told me those words, I had parent-teacher conferences. I knew I had to make it through, and then hoped I would have him later that weekend.
I was so excited. And freaked out. But, mostly excited.
I needed to prove to my doctor and myself that she was right, that I wouldn’t make it another week with him inside of me. So, I was pumping. And pushing on my stomach. Like a crazy pregnant woman.
Back to Friday. After conferences were over, Jacob and I had an appointment to get physicals done for our new life insurance policy. We pulled into this little office building and sat down, waiting, in a janky office that really did not look like a doctor’s office. (The sketchiness is important.)
A woman came out from behind a cubicle divider and I had my physical. She took my blood pressure with this really weird machine and it came back very high. She did it three more times and it was still high. In all of my doctor’s appointments, my blood pressure was normal, so I blamed this on the weird machine hurting my arm and the doctor’s office that did not seem like a doctor’s office.
The lady didn’t seem too concerned, and I was feeling fine so I continued on like everything was normal.
Fast forward to Tuesday, the 12th. Four days after the physical. I was very pregnant and still teaching. My co-workers were surprised to see me since they knew what my doctor had said. My long-term sub had been in my room the last two days, getting the lay of the land.
I survived another day in second grade and said goodbye to my kiddos at the end of the day and then went to my scheduled doctor’s appointment. And guess what?
They said I had a high blood pressure. I believed them.
I told them about Friday, and they were upset I hadn’t called them. Oops. They didn’t care that it was a weird office and machine. (I really should have gone in, and if your story is similar, GO IN. Don’t wait.)
As soon as my appointment was over, they sent me straight to the hospital, which was conveniently across the street.
I imagined my doctor was sending me to the assessment/triage room, to continue monitoring my blood pressure with their stress test.
But they skipped that room and I was sent straight to one of their delivery rooms.
I told Jacob not to worry, that I’d probably go home. But my blood pressure numbers never went down. I called Jacob and told him he needed to leave work.
– – –
“You look scared. It’s all right. This is good.” My doctor had just told me I would be induced. That we were going to have our baby within the next 24 hours.
Crap.
Remember me saying I was mostly excited? Now I was mostly, if not all, nervous.
The Pitocin drip started.
I texted my principal that I wouldn’t be in. Parents were called.
Breathe. You’re going to be a mom soon. Now I get the whole, “Enjoy the last minutes with your spouse,” thing.
Hours went by and it seemed like nothing was really happening. The medicine they gave with the Pitocin was helping to keep my pain down. Jacob and I weren’t really sleeping. It was now 5am.
My doctor came in and sat on my bed, saying that she was going to break my water and check my cervix.
Warm and wet. I always wondered what it would feel like, and now I knew.
Within 60 seconds, I was in the worst pain of my life. I understood why they said, “You’ll know you’re in true labor when you won’t be able to talk.”
In the weeks prior to this moment, Jacob and I had briefly talked about a birth plan. I mentioned how I wanted to experience the ‘joy’ of being in labor. But I also knew I had a low pain tolerance. I was okay with getting an epidural, but only after I had experienced the pain.
So pretty quickly after my water broke, I asked for an epidural. (More like begged as I think about it now.)
The nurses said the labor pain would dull down in a little bit. That definitely did not happen. So I whispered I would like an epidural. (Why did I whisper? Because I was in a TON of pain and that’s pretty much all I could do.)
Only Jacob could hear me. I really don’t remember much about this time. The pain was SO intense. Jacob said later that, “You were a dribbling mess of pain and incoherent consciousness.”
I do remember puking. Twice. And I remember Jacob holding my hand through that and being so grateful that he was there. He remembers it being gross and glad he didn’t have to give birth.
Within an hour, an anesthesiologist came in and began to get the epidural ready.
“Now, you need to be completely still while I put this in, or we will have to start over.”
Great. I’m supposed to somehow be still while I’m in the worst pain of my life??
I focused on Jacob and had him communicate for me. To say what? I don’t remember.
The epidural in a sense, paralyzes you from your lower back to your feet. It was great. Amazing. Fantastic. Manna from Heaven.
We were able to sleep once I was out of pain. And it was glorious.
I woke up feeling so clear-headed. Before, I felt like I had blacked out and couldn’t make sense of anything. Now, I could think straight and really understand what was going on.
My doctor checked in with us at 11:30 and, surprise! “You’re at 10cm and the baby is at Level 1. Time to start pushing.”
She gave me the talk about how it takes an hour to learn how to push, an hour to try pushing, and then maybe an hour of productive pushing.
One push. Two pushes.
Ohhhh, this is why they say you should practice your breathing.
Three pushes.
My doctor and the nurses change into their delivery scrubs and tell me that if I keep pushing like this, he will be out in the next few minutes!
The next set of pushing wasn’t as effective. That pushing stuff is hard work!
We got back into a good rhythm of pushing and breathing and my doctor is starting to ask if I want him on my chest right away.
“Ummmm, is he going to be really gross?” I wanted him on my chest, but the reality of him being in me and then suddenly being out sounded possibly too slimy for my liking.
“We’ll wipe him off really fast and then we can hand him to you.”
“Okay, that sounds good.”
A few more pushes. “Do you want to feel his head?” “No thank you.” That sounded real nasty.
“Good, good Brittany, push, push, STOP!”
The tone of her voice told me I needed to listen. Immediately.
She said something to the nurses. Something with the word triple.
“Brittany, the baby is coming face UP, and the umbilical cord is wrapped around his neck. Three times.”
She quickly fixed it and gave me the go-ahead for one more push.
Crying.
He was out!
They quickly wiped him off and placed him on my chest. My son, Benaiah Jim.
Born February 13, 2019 at 12:26pm.
After only 56 minutes of pushing I might add. #overachiever
I couldn’t help but cry, too.
Giving birth is such a miracle.
What a good story. I love it. You are a great mom and I love you.
Thank you! Love you!