{continued from parts I and II)

He pulled up to the free valet parking and I exited the back seat in between contractions.  I felt as if the valet, upon first sight of me,  got onto her walkie talkie and said,

 ”Roger, we’ve got a live one here.”  Time to get this labor show on the road!

Part III: Hospital

The valet asked  if I wanted a wheelchair and I declined.  I’m sure I had that glazed eyes, panting animal look about me because everyone pretty much listened to me and left me alone.  We made our way in and to the elevators, my eyes only open enough to check my step.

Our first stop was triage.  N answered a hundred questions for me, firing answers off as if he were in a trivia contest.  I couldn’t help but notice the ones he got wrong, such as my weight, but I didn’t have the energy nor desire to correct him.  I continued to pace until they made me lie down on the bed to be monitored and checked.  That was possibly one of the worst parts.  The last thing I wanted to do was be on my back and I feared the contractions as they came upon me that way.  It was 1:52am.

The good news?  I was dilated to a seven.  SEVEN! This was so amazing because I had prepared myself to be happy with four–just one more past where I had started.  It also meant I had crossed over from six which is where I seemed to hang for hours with MG.  I felt this was a huge encouragement and later recognized it as a gift from God.

We got the all clear to go to our room….which was so…far…..away.  The rooms designed for the tub are the largest, but also the furthest down the hall.  Walking, however, was my comfort zone.  We walked slowly and deliberately, stopping momentarily and about every two minutes when a contraction began, but then attempting to walk through them with N rubbing my back.

The whole time I was thinking, “this isn’t” as bad as last time.”(and it wasn’t!)  And  “I’m doing this.”  I channeled my inner laboring mamas stories.

Finally we made it to our room and the tub–our great focal point– was finally being prepared for me.


We were disappointed it wasn’t ready as soon as we walked in, but  they told me I would need to be monitored for twenty minutes first, plus they needed to administer my first round of antibiotics.  There was a hubbub of people in and out of the room.  “Sign this, make sure this is correct, I’m going to poke you now.”  Leave me alone!  Nate was left to answer more questions to the best of his ability.  We were all counting down the minutes to the tub.  It was 2:15am.

I found my way onto the bed kneeling and leaning into N.   I ask him to hold me up when a contraction started as squatting on my knees relieved some of the pain and pressure and his holding me up made me feel a bit weightless.  In this way, he worked nearly as hard as I did!

 Some contractions were extremely intense and painful but they were bookended by ones that were a bit more manageable.  I audibly cried out to the LORD after the most painful ones for Him to speed things up and allow the baby to drop.  Julie leaned in to tell me that I was going through transition and this would be the fastest part of my labor.  My outward signs were pretty much textbook.

All of that squatting did a number on my antibiotic IV.  I had felt it come detached but at the time didn’t really care nor drew attention to it.  Someone noticed blood on the back of Nate’s shirt and my popped line was soon after discovered.  Baby never received the antibiotics which was actually an answer to prayer, considering that she was healthy and strong after birth and because of that, didn’t need them anyway.

All the while, Julie and N were encouraging me.  Julie reminded me that when they checked me at 7cm, the baby was at a -2 station, still fairly high up.  She explained that she would drop and it might be fast and sudden so not to let it catch me off guard.  The nurses were moving quickly and N and Julie seem to be encouraging each other with whispers of “this is going a lot faster than we expected”.  I could only half-listen.

At 2:40am, they finally cleared me to get into the tub.  But as I had a contraction, I suddenly started to feel that urge.  I felt God telling me to trust my intuition which had so failed me last time.

N was all ready to help me off of the bed and into the water, but I surprised everyone, including myself, when I asked the nurse to check me first.  “Really, are you sure?”

9 and a half centimeters, almost there.

They asked me if I still wanted to go in and Julie said there’s still time.  The nurse said you may not want to because as soon as you reach 10 it may be hard to get out and get to the bed to push.  I agreed.  I didn’t want to go anywhere.  I begged God to let her drop down and announced to everyone what I thought I was going on down below.

“Don’t push until the doctor comes in.” the nurse said.  (Hearing those words fulfilled some sort of Hollywood dream I had of my labor).  Julie whispered, “listen to your body”.  (do what you want, essentially.  Believe me, I had every intention too!)

The doctor came into the room and it wasn’t Dr. P–the doctor we were told was on call.  “do you mind if I catch the baby?” she politely asked.  Lady, I don’t mind if my Father-In-Law catches the baby at this point.  Julie asked her if it was alright with her that I continue pushing on my knees, using N as a squat bar.  She said she was fine with that and everyone did a little victory yell.  Mine was in my head, but truthfully, I wasn’t going anywhere.

They encouraged me to push when I was ready.  I was and had already been a bit.  It was about 5 minutes till 3am.

In keeping with the theme, this pushing experience was totally different this time too.  I felt the baby working her way down.  I cried aloud in frustration when I felt her snake back up.  Julie reminded me to be patient and let my body work her out.  Sometimes I felt the urge to push hard, other times just small, grunty pushes.  I couldn’t believe my body was so trustworthy and that things were going so well.

Soon though she was crowning and I felt that things were culminating into the ultimate birth experience I had wanted.  There were about a half dozen female nurses in the room plus the doctor.  They were all encouraging me and  letting me do my thing.  They were quietly telling stories about other births and even speaking of me as if I wasn’t in the room.  “She hasn’t sat down this entire time.”  N was punctuating the conversation with nervous jokes.  And I was in the zone but still completely conscientious of what was going on around me.  Almost as if I was having an out of body experience.  So, so much different than the three hours of pushing discouragement last time.

With the urging of my body, I gave it my all and her head was out. Or at least I thought. I wasn’t really sure what was going on as it was happening a lot faster than I ever imagined. Things got really fuzzy after that as they called out to me to keep pushing, though I had no urge. And then they became frantic.  About 6 people flipped me onto my back,  shoved up my knees, and yelled at me to push.  I did, despite not feeling the need.

That was the last boost she needed to be out and what an amazing feeling it was!  She didn’t cry immediately, but they suctioned her out on my chest and she immediately pinked up and cried.  I was in such a state of shock that I did not cry this time, I just talked to her and cooed over her as they rubbed her down.

Soon after, I asked Julie what had happened during the moment of drama and she said the shoulders were possibly wedged up and at the angle I was the doctor could not get her out so they needed me on my back in order to remove her.

About that time, the doctor from my practice came into the room and apologized for not being there to attend my birth.  Apparently the incoming storms had done a number on my fellow pregnant friends  and there were about 4 of us delivering at once, one in triage.

I carefully examined my brand new daughter.

She did not look how I imagined she would.  She was a beautiful, little stranger that at the time, did not resemble any of us.

They let her breastfeed and do skin-to-skin for an hour before weighing her in at 8lbs, 12oz and 22in long.   Her official time of birth was 3:28am.  Less than 2 hours since we’d arrived at the hospital and only four since I had felt my first contraction.  Eleven  since the discouraging ultrasound.  I could not believe that we were here, now.  I was in shock.

{to be concluded on Wednesday}

2 Comments on Bea’s Birth Part III: Hospital

  1. triciastatler
    June 27, 2013 at 12:35 pm (5 years ago)

    Ahh so glad to be reading this! I love birth stories, God is so good!!

  2. triciastatler
    June 27, 2013 at 12:35 pm (5 years ago)

    Ahh so glad to be reading this! I love birth stories, God is so good!!


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Comment *