Charlie Mae's Birth Story

Now that it's been almost 11 weeks since I gave birth to Charlie Mae, I think I'm ready to share my story of the experience.

As I said in my very first post about her arrival, I think it's important to tell these types of stories, but I needed time to process what ended up being a very traumatic experience for me. 

Sharing a challenging birth story is, well, a challenge. There are many reasons for this, but just a few are as follows: I don't want to scare anyone who hasn't given birth yet and is pregnant or plans to be someday, I don't want to be judged for my decisions during my labor + delivery, I don't want to come across as judgmental towards anyone who has different feelings about birth, I don't want to come across as ungrateful for a process that in the end, provided me with a completely healthy baby, and I don't want to make anyone feel bad about their birth process, no matter what the outcome. 

But, I'm going for it, because I want other women who had births that left them with a bit of PTSD to know they're not alone in their experience. So, here goes... 

[And be warned, this is a doozy of a post! You may want to grab a cup of tea and sit back for this one, or if you're not interested in the subject matter, just skip it. I've included lots of details for those who, like me, want ALL of the info when they hear a birth story.]

I felt my first signs of labor in the morning on Tuesday, August 23rd. I woke up feeling period-like cramps that would continue throughout much of the day, but I didn't know if they meant that this was "it" or not. I had my weekly appointment with my midwife that morning and had a scheduled non-stress test at the hospital after that (since I was past my due date), and at these appointments I was told that the baby was fine, but I was only 1/2 cm dilated.

After these appointments and after discussing my concerns about having to get induced if I went too far past my due date, I made an appointment to go in for acupuncture that afternoon, in hopes that it would bring on labor. As I lay in the acupuncturist's chair later that day, I started feeling my "cramps" getting stronger, and on the 30-minute drive home, as it started to feel uncomfortable sitting behind the wheel, I began to think that these cramps might actually be something. 

​Around 3 or 4 pm I was working at my computer and sitting on my birth ball, and I realized that the "cramps" I was experiencing were happening at a pretty regular rate. At a friend's advice, I started timing them just to see if they were regular, and sure enough, they were. I called Ben at work and told him this might be it, and he headed home just in case.

Fast forward to a few hours later, and I was in labor. I planned on laboring at home for as long as possible, so I ate dinner while having contractions, and sent Ben to bed around 9pm to get some sleep while I labored downstairs on my own. I had my yoga mat, blanket, and birth ball out, I lit some candles, put on some music, and moved through each contraction. It was a beautiful time that made me feel good about whatever was ahead of me. 

At around 11pm, the contractions had gotten so strong that I knew we had to go to the hospital. Not because I thought they baby was coming anytime soon, but because the only thing that got me through the contractions was moving (I would bend at the hips and lean over something and then sway my hips side-to-side while the sensation lasted), and I was afraid of being in the car, seated, through these contractions. I woke Ben up, we grabbed our bags (which of course, we had packed weeks ago and refilled as needed earlier in the evening), and got into the car. 

In the car, I listened to my hypno-birthing recoding and breathed through each contraction. We got to the hospital around midnight and my midwife (who I had called) was there to greet me. She told me that I was 3 cm dilated when we arrived, which meant that we might still  have a long way to go, but I was ready for it. The night continued on, and I labored all throughout, trying different positions, getting in and out of the shower, eating small snacks as I could to keep my energy up, etc. 

I should pause here to share that going into my labor + delivery, I really wanted a non-medicated, non-intervention birth. This felt like the right fit for me and I was as prepared as I could be for this type of birth. I felt confident in my body's ability to have an unmedicated birth and in my birth team's ability to support me. Everyone who came into my room was aware of what I wanted and was very respectful of my wishes, and even many hours into being at the hospital, I felt that I would be able to have the kind of birth that I wanted. 

Back to the story: what I didn't realize in the first half of my labor but found out later on was that the crazy intense contractions I was having were called back labor. Not every woman has these kind of contractions, but those who have will know why this is relevant.

Back labor contractions are WAY stronger than regular contractions. Each time you have a contraction, it feels like someone is sawing your back open with a jagged knife. The only thing that helped me was moving my hips, bending over, having someone press on my hips as I contracted, and/or being in the shower, moving on a birth ball, with the hot water on my lower back. It was crazy intense and exhausting. 

When I was next checked at about 10 or 11am on Wednesday the 24th, I found out that I was only at 5 cm. Normally, they say that women dilate an average of 1 cm per hour, so it was pretty disheartening to find out that after 10 or 11 hours of laboring at the hospital, I had only dilated another 2 cm. But still, we pressed on. 

The next time I was checked, later that afternoon, I was at 8 cm. You can't push until you're at 10 cm, so again, I was disappointed. But then a few hours later, before I was checked again, I felt the urge to push. I told the midwife who was with me at the time, and she said that if I felt the urge, I could try. She didn't check me again since they try to limit the checks, so I went for it.

​They got me into a good squatting position and I started pushing. I pushed for about 30-45 minutes, during which my water finally broke, but nothing was happening. So the midwife had me stop and checked me again--and wouldn't you know it--I was only 8cm dilated. Things weren't progressing the way we'd hoped, and my energy was starting to really dip, as I'd been in labor for over 24 hours, had been pushing for a while, and in the meantime, the back labor contractions had continued to get stronger and stronger. 

This next part of the story is where things start to get pretty hazy for me, as I began to get kind of delirious with exhaustion. But, from talking to Ben and everyone who worked with me that evening, here's what happened:

When the next shift came in, the midwife on duty started talking about interventions. They mentioned Pitocin to help me dilate all the way, which scared me to death, since I knew that Pitocin can cause contractions to become even stronger and I was already at my limit with my back labor. We told them that we wanted to wait longer, but everyone was worried about my energy and my ability to push the baby out when the time came [if things kept going as they were].

Finally, the Ob-Gyn on duty--who is also my next door neighbor--came in to check me and discuss options. At this time, we found out a few things:

1. Charlie Mae was turned so that she was partially sunny-side up, which means she wasn't in the best position for labor AND this is why I was having back labor. With every contraction, only part of her head was pressing down on my cervix, which means that a part of my cervix wasn't dilating as it is supposed to, and thus, is why it was taking so long for me to dilate fully.
2. The pushing that I did earlier in the evening may have slowed down my dilation process even more. Pushing when you aren't fully dilated can cause inflammation of the cervix, which means it becomes less open instead of more open.
3. Charlie Mae's heart rate was starting to drop with each contraction, which meant we needed to get her out sooner rather than later.
4. They had spotted some meconium when my water broke, which meant that Charlie Mae had already had her first bowel movement inside the womb, which is another indicator that the baby needs to get out sooner rather than later.  

So, I was told we needed to move things along to avoid an emergency c-section. The recommendation was an epidural so that I could rest up enough to dilate the rest of the way and then have the energy to push her out.

I was heartbroken, as I had now been in labor for almost 30 hours and felt so close to the end, but was now faced with the need make a decision that could impact whether or not I ended up having the birth that I wanted or an emergency c-section. I was so tired and had started feeling like I would rather die than continue on through labor. In fact, I know I said that a few times, that I "just wanted to die,"  which is a very scary feeling to have.

Ben and I discussed our options as best we could given the amount of pain I was in and our mutual state of exhaustion and worry, and we couldn't decide what to do. It was really stressful for both of us. I had a nurse with me who is also one of my friends (and who knew all about my wishes for an unmedicated birth and had one herself), and with tears in my eyes, I asked her, "What should I do?"

She responded confidently, "I would get the epidural so you have a chance at a vaginal birth," and that was all it took. I said lets do it and they started the process. 

The good news: the epidural did eventually give me a chance to rest enough to dilate the rest of the way and get her out. The bad news: it didn't take all the way and didn't work on my back labor, so once I was all set up and told I could no longer move (the only thing that relieved the pain of back labor), I still felt the pain of the contractions in my back. It was pure hell having to lie still and let each contraction move over me without being able to move myself. 

When it was time to push Charlie Mae out, her heart rate was dropping enough that I didn't have the "luxury" of taking my time pushing her out and slowly stretching naturally. The doctor had to use the vacuum extractor to help pull her out [quickly] and cut a large episiotomy in order to make room to get her out, and of course, I had to push on my back because of the epidural (again, something I really hadn't wanted). 

There was a lot of blood and it was pretty scary--spotlights all around me, a bunch of faces looking down at me, Ben's voice somewhere in the darkness where I couldn't see him--I felt like I was in an ER episode, and it was nothing like the peaceful, yoga-filled birth that I had hoped for and experienced for the first 24 hours of my labor.

At one point before the pushing started I even heard Ben say to someone, "This is the worst day of my life," which is not something you want your partner to be feeling when you're about to have your baby. He was scared and hated seeing me in so much pain when there was nothing he could do, and I hated hearing him so upset. 

In the end, I had Charlie Mae vaginally and she was perfect. She was born at 10:48pm on Wednesday the 24th and was 8 lbs and 20 inches. They put her on my chest when she came out and she started nursing very soon after. I remember feeling both the pain of being stitched up and the comfort of having my baby lying on me simultaneously. I was crying because she was here and she was okay and also because labor was over. [I did still have to deliver the placenta, which I remember seeing, but I could care less about that once Charlie Mae was in my arms.]

The next morning, I was feeling all of the emotions at once. One by one, everyone who had worked with me throughout my labor came by to help me process what had happened. I remember telling my midwife, through tears, that I didn't think I could ever have another child because I could never go through that again. I was thoroughly traumatized by the experience, despite being completely in love with our daughter. 

Now that I have some distance from the experience and good-old amnesia has kicked in (which, I have learned, must happen for our species to continue), I know that I will be able to have another child and I want to, despite all of the PTSD surrounding Charlie Mae's birth. I recently told Ben that I would do it 5 more times if it meant having Charlie Mae, and I meant it. Which goes to show just how powerful the love of motherhood really is. 

Oh, and I want to mention that even though the end of my labor was really scary and upsetting, there were beautiful moments scattered throughout and it wasn't all bad.

I have a beautiful memory of watching the sun come up through the window of my room after laboring through the first night. My midwife was helping me and we watched it come up together, and she said, "It's your baby's birthday!" which was very powerful. I also remember being spoon fed chicken noodle soup by one of my nurses (also a yogi and friend) while in the shower, and all of Ben's amazing support as things got hard. And of course, seeing Charlie Mae when she came out was the most incredible feeling of all. 

So, that's the story. I think I'll stop there since this post has become so long, but I want to reiterate one thing that I learned from birth, and that is that it really is out of your control. You can only prepare so much, and after that, you have to surrender.

I'm still working on accepting this, but I do know it's true and feel that Charlie Mae was 100% worth it.