The Birth of Eliza Jane: Part Three

Need to catch up?
Pregnancy. 
Part One.
Part Two.

December 24. 
When asked, I consider "labour" starting at 10:30 am on Christmas Eve. Contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and lasted 45-90 seconds. I didn't call anyone right away as I didn't really believe things were happening. It was much more manageable than I anticipated and I didn't want to cry wolf and have everyone leave their families and their celebrations. Erik turned on the electric fireplace and I sat in front of it as we rocked our way through the surges.

My belly band and back pain were what hurt the most. Well, they were the only things that were uncomfortable. It didn't hurt as in typical "pain" but it was... clenching, maybe.

At some point I started singing/exhaling a low continuous note with each surge. I would sit forward as the contraction started and relax my body as I took a slow, peaceful breath. I remained relaxed as the contraction intensified and started singing/exhaling the low continuous note when the contraction was close to peaking. I continued the low note as the intensity tapered off and until I felt ready to take a slow, cleansing breath. I also started rocking my upper body in a circle with the extra intense contractions.

The heat of the ire on my back worked wonders to relieve some of the back pain I was experiencing. I sat inches away from it and Erik sat in front of me, on the birth ball, ready to support me in any way I needed. We would rock together or he would support me as I sank into the intensity of the contraction, relaxing completely and allowing my body to do its work.

We didn't call the midwife until closer to 13:00. I didn't feel like things were happening quickly and I was enjoying the peaceful quiet of the two of us working together. I would have waited longer to call her, but she thought things were going to go quickly and I wasn't intending on having an unassisted home birth.

The midwife arrived around 13:30. She let herself in and began setting up. She came to say hello and commented on how wonderfully we were working together. She sat down on the floor in the corner of the room and observed us for a while.

Mandi (my dear friend) arrived as the midwife was doing another internal exam. We were fully effaced and 6cm dilated. I remember being happy that things were changing and being relieved that they weren't changing too quickly.

I was so glad Mandi was there. She is one of the strongest women I know and she is quietly reassuring. I was there when her two oldest children were born so it was special to have her there to support me while I laboured and delivered mine. She also lives in Fort St. John so I was lucky she was in town.

Mandi immediately got to work rubbing my lower back, which felt amazing! I soon realized that it wasn't the rubbing that I loved, but the pressure. Lots of pressure! In two specific spots on either side of my spine, at the small of my back. As much pressure as anyone could muster.

Our doula arrived soon after Mandi. She had a kind smile on he face and she settled in quickly and quietly without interrupting our rhythm. She lit the beeswax candles I had stored up for labour and delivery and placed them around the room.

Once everyone arrived Erik suddenly left me and busied himself in other rooms of the house. I don't know if he was helping the midwife set up or find things, checking on food, doing some housekeeping he thought needed to get done or what, but I felt his absence and remember feeling frustrated that he wasn't supporting me. I told myself that he would be back and I had to make do without him. I was annoyed, though, and had to talk myself out of expressing said annoyance upon his return.

It was lovely to have my people surrounding me in the coziness of our living room. When I found out we were pregnant and expecting to deliver in December I was excited about the prospect of labouring in the comfort of my cozy, festive home. I love the soft glow of Christmas lights, the warmth of the fire, the smell of the tree, and the overall loveliness of it all. It's gezellig. Who doesn't want that comfort when they're labouring? And I wasn't disappointed when the time came -- it was lovely.

It was wonderful to labour in our living room. I spent time catching up with Mandi. I asked Abbie (my doula) how she was and heard a bit about both of their Christmas celebrations. When I felt a surge starting I would focus inward, prepare myself by taking a calming breath, and relax my body to allow the surge to take over. I would "get into position" (whatever position that was at the time) and my team would surround me and support me until the contraction subsided, at which point I would take another cleansing breath and we would continue whatever conversation we were having.

There was lots of swaying. And singing.

The intensity of the contraction was evident to others in the intensity, volume, length, or pitch of my vocalizations. If the contraction was "getting away from me" my pitch would rise as I tensed up and Erik would gently encourage me to bring it back down.

We laboured for a while before the midwife did another internal exam. I think she did them every four hours unless I declined, but I could be mistaken. I was 7cm dilated this time and, again, felt relieved that things weren't going too quickly. I had been worried about fast and furious and instead was getting slow and steady which was much more acceptable.

The midwife seemed a little perplexed by the slow progression. She had me hang off the handles of our open door and squat down during a few contractions to try position the baby better. I tried for a while, but preferred draping myself over Erik and swaying with him.

Mandi was champ at pushing into my back -- she leaned all her weight into her elbows that were on the small of my back. She apologized for pushing so hard at one point and I explained that there was no such thing as too hard. I told her that sticking knives in would possibly make it feel better.

I never felt the urge to go into the birth tub (which was set up in the dining room) and I knew I wanted to wait until near delivery to get into it anyway. I didn't really crave relief from the contractions. I felt I was handling them really well and was actually surprised by how aware I felt. I had expected that when I hit transition I would be in the zone and just stay internally focused. I didn't. I was chatty through it all. And completely aware of my surroundings, which wasn't the greatest because I noticed where I could have tidied more.

According to the midwives records I got into the tub at 19:30. The midwife suggested I get in as she was hoping it would help me reach full dilation.

I was most comfortable belly down with my arms resting on the edge of the tub. Erik was sitting on a chair in front of me and he put his forehead to mine, rubbed my neck, held my hands, and made me feel loved. Abbie was doing counter-pressure and Mandi was pouring water down my back with contractions.

I could not believe how soothing it was to have water poured down my back. It was lovely. I think it may be because it was distracting and because it gave me another, more pleasant, sensation to focus on. It was warm and fluid and wonderful.

This is where things start to become less clear in my memory.

I sang my way through most contractions, but for some I just breathed in and out. When singing/droning I would hold my note for an impressively long time. Erik would often remind me to breathe, which I sometimes appreciated and sometimes ignored. At one point, he gently reminded me to breathe and I responded saying, "I don't want to breathe, I need to sing!" and continued singing. It made everyone else chuckle, myself included.

I had no desire to eat or drink, but Mandi and Abbie would put the straw to my lips and I would dutifully take a few sips between contractions. I was fed pieces of clementines throughout labour as well.

I found the tub to be quite warm, but the midwife said that when I was nearing delivery she would actually have to make it a bit warmer for the baby's arrival.

My membranes spontaneously ruptured at 20:15. I was leaning over the side of the tub during a contraction and felt a little pop followed by a warm trickle of liquid. It felt like I was peeing from my vagina. I announced that I was fairly certain my water broke and sure enough there was a bit of vernix floating alongside me in the tub. The midwife offered to do another vaginal exam, but I declined as things were clearly progressing and I wanted to allow my body to continue doing its work. 

At some point someone said something about food — not for me, but for my lovely people. I had no sense of time so it didn’t make sense to me that they’d be hungry. I looked at the clock, though I don’t remember what time it was, and realized that we’d been at it for quite some time so they were inevitably hungry. We’d planned on just ordering in while in labour because it was a lot of work to keep food prepped at all times just in case. Abbie called around and, because it was Christmas Eve, nothing was open. I think they ended up having soup and bread… I just remember asking that whatever they made didn’t smell too strongly as I had no desire to eat. I wasn’t nauseated, but I had absolutely no interest in food at this point. I remember feeling like I was being selfish and wondering how they could be hungry, then laughing to myself.

Labour continued as it had, quietly in the kitchen surrounded by people who loved and cared for me and the baby we were bringing into the world. Candles were lit, hands were rubbing, water was pouring, I was singing, and we were rhythmically rocking the baby down. I felt supported and uplifted. I was able to meet contractions relaxed and grounded.

I had another internal exam at 21:00 to see what kind of progress was being made. My cervix was 9.5cm dilated and anterior and the babe was at +1 station. The midwife attempted to reduce the cervical lip. She said it was easy to push up over the baby's head, but it wouldn't stay there.

I got out of the tub to go to the bathroom, hoping that an empty bladder would help me reach full dilation. I tried my hardest to pee in the tub, but I just couldn't. I had a contraction just before and just after sitting down to pee. I was surprised that being out of the water didn't increase the intensity of the contractions. I had assumed there was no going back once you were in the tub because things would feel much worse out of it.

While I was up, I lunged up and down the hall trying to get the baby to move into a better position. I also tried squatting with one foot on the fireplace ledge. I think I did each for around 5 contractions, but I can't be too sure about that.

I returned to the tub to labour some more.

I felt the baby move up, away from the exit, so the midwife did another vaginal exam at 22:30 and my cervix was now 7.5cm dilated and the babe was now at 0 station. I felt confused and discouraged and my midwife didn't have any encouragement for me. She seemed as confused as I was, which didn't help me.

The midwife offered to "reduce the lip". Yeeeeeeeooooouuuuuccccchhh! That was, undoubtedly, the most painful thing. I tried to my best to relax my body, but I couldn't handle it.

Finding out that the baby had, in fact, climbed back into my body and having the shocking pain of the attempted lip reduction did not help my coping abilities. I don't know if it was a coincidence or if this disappointment played into it, but my back started seizing after hours of counter-pressure. The counter-pressure, that had previously brought relief, now added to my discomfort.

I was confused and the midwife's lack of encouragement and confidence only added to my confusion. The midwife actually said the words, "I don't know what is happening." She said it as a quiet, off-hand comment, but it spoke deep into me. I was feeling raw, exposed, vulnerable, confused, and in great need of encouragement and those words deflated me. And made me mad. I can assure you those aren't the words a labouring woman wants to hear. Especially when she already doesn't particularly like you and you're in her home preparing to bring her child earthside.

Everything that had previously helped relieve the labour pains now added to them. I confessed that I didn't know what would help me cope with them anymore and I moaned and cried into Erik's shoulder as I felt some of my strength and poise leave my body. I needed encouragement. I needed comfort. I needed to feel safe. I needed my midwife to tell me that things were going to be okay, but I felt my baby moving further away from... out... and I was bewildered.

I knew the baby was poorly positioned and I knew that he/she was trying to find a better angle for delivery, but I seemed to be the only one who knew this or felt confident of this. And being the only one made me question it.

Erik was a champ. He tried to encourage me, but I was no longer hearing him.  I was fighting to relax my body, but was not doing a very good job of it. I wonder if I felt Erik's unease because he was no longer getting through to me. I felt out of control, but I fought hard to keep myself together.

Mandi, who had been manning my back through most of my labour came around beside Erik. She was a God-send in that moment. I felt her cool hands gently brush my furrowed brow and I heard her soft voice speak to my trembling spirit. She told me to relax and breathe. And sweetly cheered me on saying, “That’s it. You’re doing great.”. She was able to center me when I felt like I was crumpling.

The midwife no longer seemed confident. She even said, "This is very confusing. I'm not sure why you're going backwards." I was unimpressed with her so I told Erik that I wanted to go to the hospital. I whispered it into his ear as I held onto him as though he were a life-line. I never imagined I would utter those words, but in that moment I knew that was where I needed to be. I no longer trusted my midwife and I needed encouragement and direction that I was not receiving from her. I felt anger toward her and this made me unable to relax. I no longer felt safe in her care.

My goal from the start was to stay home as long as possible. We'd intended to have this be through delivery, but I was open to a hospital transfer if necessary. I had not anticipated my lack of trust in my midwife would be the catalyst for such a transfer, but I felt unsafe and it was time to go.

At 22:45 I got out of the tub having made up my mind to go to the hospital. I just wanted to feel safe and supported so I could get my groove back.

The midwife clearly didn't realize this was my intent because she timidly gave us our options. She said that we could continue labouring at home, but the baby didn’t seem to be cooperating. We were told we could transfer to the hospital and get an epidural to allow my body to rest and hopefully allow the baby to make his/her way down again.

I said I wanted to go the hospital. Now.

Next: Part Four.