Maxton's Birth Story (Part 3: Show Time)

(My side of the story on Maxton's entrance into this world. Part 1: Prep time, here. Part 2: Go time, here.)

It's 7:25am  and we enter triage and sit down before being called to the admittance desk. (My contractions, along with their severity, drastically mellowed out on the ride over. My nerves were kicking into gear. I wanted the contractions to return so they wouldn't send me home, but at the same time I knew the challenge I had before me and the reality of the situation was making me jittery. After about 10 minutes the admittance lady led me to a closet of a room and had me sit down while I gave her my name, insurance info, etc.....and BOOM! A contraction hit and it was the first time that day that I had to deal with one in front of a complete stranger. I easily embarrass and I tried my darnedest to act as non-contorty as I could. To no avail, sadly. The lady kept asking me questions expecting me to answer and I wanted to scream, DUDE. Contraction here. I knew she couldn't care less because she's doing this all day with women contracting and contorting and wincing and weeping.

The woman informs me that they are pretty busy as she leads me into an examining room. She asked me to undress and that I'll be checked in just a bit. My contractions have now returned in full force. I quite clumsily get into my gown and sit on the hard metal chair sitting in the center of the room. The nurse hooks me  up to the monitors, takes my blood pressure, and and asked how far apart my contractions were (every 3-4 minutes). She tells me she has some other moms to check on and that she will be back to see how many centimeters I am after they've monitored my contractions for 20 minutes.

The nurse did not return in 20 minutes. Nor did she return in 30, or 40, or 50. She returned in 55 minutes and only after my husband called for her. I had waited on that chair thinking that at any minute she would return and we could get me to a labor room. The pain was getting really intense and I was seriously doubting myself. It was after throwing up into a garbage can that I turned to Josh and said, "I'm just going to do drugs, you know. I don't know if I can do this!"  Josh immediately  told me that 1) YES, I could do it,  and 2) he wasn't going to let me give up that easy, and that that's what he was here for; he was to support me when those inevitable doubts crept to the surface.

So when Josh yelled for someone to please come check me, the nurse came rushing in. Josh mentioned I threw up and that got the nurse's attention. She immediately checked me. I was at 9 cm at 8:45am. I labored to 9 cm, in a metal chair. Awesome.

I remember thinking to myself that my plan had been foiled. I wasn't going to be able to use my birthing ball, or set up the easy listening on the radio. I was immediately thrown into a wheel chair and carted over to the labor room and set directly onto a bed where the various procedures were taken to prepare for Max's arrival...nurses scrubbing up and vitals taken.

Josh was by my side for the next 45 minutes and took great care of me while I shut out the entire world except for him and our soon-to-be-born son. I read in the Bradley book about focusing on what my body was trying to accomplish: pushing out Baby. I never thought in a million years that I would be able to concentrate and focus my body and mind as the book suggested, but guys? I totally did. I was in this weird state where I didn't care what the doctors were saying  or doing. I just breathed and focused on the pain. Focusing on the pain helped, surprisingly (surprising, even though the book suggested it would.) With every contraction I went into a calm, almost meditative state (which sounds so hokey and annoying to some, as I can imagine.) I mean, who am I? Not THAT person. I'm impatient, I'd never meditated in my life. Still don't. The idea of going to a yoga class made me uneasy. Still does.

I'm usually the person who follows directions, I do what I'm told, I don't ever want to hurt people's feelings. These nurses were talking to me and I didn't acknowledge them at all. (I felt bad once Max was born because I wasn't intentionally trying to be unhelpful or dismissive, but I needed to handle the pain.) Josh took over and answered any questions they had for me. At one time a group of med students were at the door and they asked if they could observe the birth and Josh forcefully, said, "What?! Um, no."  (Thank you, husband of mine.)

The final 15 minutes were spent pushing. This part was much less scarier the second time around. I was excited and proud of myself for making it through the last 30 minutes without completely freaking out. I was present and focused and more importantly Josh and I were really in this process together.

At 9:29am Maxton James was born. 8 lbs, 3 oz. He was perfect. He latched on without a hitch. He snuggled up next to me and I just knew I was done for. This little boy had my heart.

I spent the rest of the day cozied up with my brand new son in a hospital bed. The hours following Maxton's birth were so remarkably different the the hours following Mazzy's birth.

This time I had my own hospital room.

I was calmer.

I was alert.

I was happier. (Not consumed with thoughts of how to get my son to latch on correctly.)

I had endorphins running through my body. THIS is the third reason I would have had for not using pain medication.  I was enjoying those first few hours after the birth of my son on a natural energetic high. Visitors would come in and out of that hospital room and I was... chipper. Yes, chipper would be a good way to describe it. (Thank you, Ali, for your advice and for lending me your book. I could not have done it without my late night cramming sessions.)

Looking back on the experience now I am most grateful to my husband. He surprised me in so many ways and made the birth of our second (and last) child really special for the two of us in a way that we weren't able to experience with the birth of our first child.

We also had our precious Mazzy there to share in our joy. She was adorable at 2 years, 2 months, and the most loving big sister. She made my heart swell with pride as she welcomed her little brother  into our family.
(Thank you Erin, for taking care of her for those few hours.)

It has been three years since that day.  Maxton, along with your sister,  you will forever hold  my heart and soul.

Love,
Mama

(Update: Reading this back I realize I made an error....I was 8cm when the nurse initially checked me and 9cm when I made it to the labor/delivery room.)

(Okay, and also? This is not an endorsement for childbirth without the help of pain medication. I'm glad I accomplished the goal I set for myself, however, I know women who had great birthing experiences with the help of an epidural. I definitely think, to each her own, in that respect. And to be honest, if my epidural with Mazzy had come before all hell broke lose, I believe I probably would have never tried an epidural-free birth, the second time around.)

Part 2: Go Time

The clock read 3:31am. I paused and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Went to the bathroom. Went back to bed. Then another very slight dull ache came from my abdomen. Hmmm, I anxiously thought to myself.  Am I in  labor? I was 38 weeks and 6 days.

With Mazzy my water broke first, followed by contractions that were noticeably more painful then my typical menstrual cramps. ( Sooooo sorry for using the use of the word, menstrual. It's right up there with the word, swollen, for me. Gah.)

About two weeks prior I downloaded a contraction counter/timer  thing-a-ma-jig for the computer. So in between checking Facebook at 4:30am(!) (lots of activity I tell ya!) I would clock my contractions. My main concern at the time was leaving for  the hospital just to be sent home upon our arrival. Because my water broke with Mazzy I didn't have to worry about that scenario with her. This was a new playing field.

Around 5am the contractions were tolerable but becoming more and more painful. I found using the coffee table to brace myself helpful when the contractions came. Josh still sleeping...I argued with myself about waking him, calling my sister, calling mom, and calling Ali (who was pregnant again with her Nori). I made the decision to get Josh up at 5:30am. I remember feeling surprisingly calm. Anyone who knows me personally, knows I can be a  little panicky at times. This time around I felt excited and almost more curious than anxious as to how this whole second-time-around, goal-having, labor thing would play out.

Mazzy was on my mind, too. I did not want her waking up only to be frightened by the image of  her mother doubled over in pain. Turns out she did wake up around 6:15am and handled that imagery quite well. She asked if I was okay and moved on to the couch where her father set up a show for her. At 2 years, 2 months Elmo was her world.

I finally made the call to my sister at  - help me with this Erin! -...6:25 am? I went back and forth with her thoughtful and kind offer to come straight over. (I knew the idea of having a reason to ditch out on work was inviting to her, I mean, c'mon! Her sister is in labor and needs a babysitter. What better excuse is that!? And maybe, maybe did she want to see me in all my contraction-having glory? Yeah, that probably wasn't it since she was right behind me pregnant with her first little bundle of joy, Harlie, and due only a few months after Max. Seeing me hunched over  a coffee table in pain was probably not her idea of a good time.)

Erin arrived around 6:45am and encouraged us to "leave for the hospital already!"  I gave Mazzy a huge hug and a million kisses before we set off for the hospital.  The newer hospital with labor and delivery rooms that seemed like penthouses compared to the what the older hospital, Mazzy was delivered in, offered.

The car's clock read 7:15am as we made our way through, surprisingly light, rush-hour traffic. I read once that contractions can seemingly stop on the ride over to the hospital when endorphins kick in. This happened to be true in my case, which made me question EVEN MORE SO if I would be sent home upon our arrival to Triage.

Was I admitted? You'll see in  Part 3: Show Time.

("Show Time" probably just gave away that answer.)

Before the details get fuzzy (Part 1: Prep Time)

(Last year I wrote about my daughters entrance into this world.  I would like to take this opportunity to document Maxton's entrance into this world before my memory fails me even more than it already has.)

Part 1: Prep Time

I found out I was pregnant with Maxton in late January of 2008. Feelings of excitement, elation, and worry flooded my mind and heart. There were plenty of reasons to be excited over the soon-to-be newest member of our family (ie. potential playmate for Mazzy) and plenty of reasons to be scared straight (ie. giving birth ...again!) My labor with Mazzy was relatively quick, albeit anxiety ridden. Once becoming pregnant with Maxton I sought out tools I could use to make the birthing experience much more in my control.

I was ALL over the place and definitely lacked focus when it came to my labor with Mazzy. The two days after her birth were spent in  a hot, stuffy, closet of a hospital room. Just pure anxiety surrounded that whole experience. My goal this second time around was to be calm(er), and a little more in control of my state of mind. Plus I wanted to get my husband involved in the process.  I asked my good friend, Ali,  if she would loan me her book on the Bradley Method. She had successfully given birth to her son without pain medication and once described the book in these terms:

“I highly recommend this book to any woman considering "natural" childbirth or, more specifically, childbirth without the use of pain medication and with as little medical intervention as possible. I read this book before the birth of my son and found it even more helpful than the Bradley classes my husband and I participated in. It is comprehensive, thorough, inspiring, well-illustrated, and full of good advice for the mother as well as the "coach" (in my case, my husband). One word of advice: start reading early in your pregnancy (as soon as you are pregnant, if possible, but hopefully no later than a few months before your due date). You will need time to prepare yourself both mentally and physically for this most rewarding challenge.”

Now, I did not follow her advice, as I asked for the book only a couple months (if that?) before Maxton was to be born. I have to add that my reasons for attempting a  pain medication free childbirth were slightly less involved and honestly, a little vain.

1) I knew I could endure the transition phase of childbirth without pain medication because I did so with Mazzy (unwillingly, I might add.) So why not see if I could willingly do it? And then, if I willingly went pain med free for the entire birthing process, maybe I would meet my next goal....

2) I wanted to appear less bloated in the pictures that would inevitably be taken shortly after his birth. (Guys, I could have taken a shower with the amount of water stored in my face after I gave birth to Mazzy.)


There would be a third reason, although I wouldn't come to that realization until a couple hours after Maxton's birth.

So, there you go.


I have to admit I only read the technique chapters. I steered away from the chapters on the philosophy behind the method. Ali knows my personality and she warned me that I may be headed into a territory I would rather not trespass. I scare easily.

The nights preceding Maxton's birth I would read a chapter at a time and "practice" what the book laid out for me. I would read Josh little tidbits of what I needed him to remember for when it was "show time" and I'd quiz him him every so often. He was a good sport. (And as you'll read later, the most encouraging and loving birthing coach.)

"Part 2: Go Time" to follow....