Birth On Base: Emilie's Positive Birth Story
I had been laboring for a long time. “Just wait until she has to start pushing,” the nurse said to my husband. “She’ll be screaming and in so much more pain.”
Chained to an IV, pulse oximeter, blood pressure cuff, and baby heart rate and contraction monitors, this birth had begun as something foreign to my proposed calm, unmedicated birth I had been planning for so long.
During my pregnancy, I had become obsessed with the idea of an unmedicated birth. I received advice not to be too rigid in my birth plan so that in case it had to change, I wouldn’t be devastated. It was good advice, but the challenge of an unmedicated birth nearly consumed me, and while my motivation for a natural birth wasn’t completely faultless, I pursued it with every fiber of my being.
I have never researched or trained for anything more in my life. I listened to podcasts, read positive birth stories, googled nearly everything, drank red raspberry tea, ate my dates, and worked out a ton. I learned about the fear-tension-pain cycle and knew that the more fear I carried, the more this birth was going to hurt! I endlessly envisioned what being in labor was going to be like. Sometimes, at midnight, while I waited in the car for my husband to get off swing-shift, I practiced relaxing my entire body while listening to Scripture. I knew that if I could teach my body to relax during contractions instead of fighting them, I could let them do their work and minimize pain caused from being tense. I was committed. I’m sure my husband was so tired of me talking about labor and delivery, but he listened to it all and knew almost as much as I did! We had a “crunchy” birth plan (google it!), and we were ready. I was deliriously excited for labor.
And then, at 36 weeks, I began to have Braxton Hicks. A lot of them. I was sure labor was right around the corner. Within the next few weeks, I received two membrane sweeps, and the Braxton Hicks turned into prodromal labor. On certain nights, I was thrown into contractions that were very, very close together. I swayed through the contractions, bounced on my birthing ball, took innumerable baths and showers to bring relief, and even ended up at labor and delivery breathing through my contractions and being overall miserable as my cervix was checked. I was only two centimeters dilated.
These weeks were very discouraging to me. I felt as though I would be exhausted for the actual birth, and my confidence in my being able to cope with contractions was shaken. After all, I wasn’t even really in labor, and I was already very uncomfortable. Day after day I cried, waddled, and waited.
It was at the end of my waiting that the Lord began to break down my pride and self-reliance. I had practiced and researched so I could be the hero. I wanted to prove to everyone - including myself - that I could accomplish an unmedicated labor. One night I began to read through Scripture, and the Lord made it abundantly clear that He would be the one sustaining me. Verse after verse ministered to my heart. For example: “It was not by their sword that they won the land, nor did their arm bring them victory; it was your right hand, your arm, and the light of your face, for you loved them. (Psalm 44:3)”
I began to accept the fact that this birth would be for His glory, not mine. Thank God we got that cleared up! I was also struck by the verse that says, “Fear took hold of them there, and pain, as of a woman in birth pangs.” I knew fear created more pain, but seeing fear and pain paired together in the Bible was so wild to me! My job was to not fear, and God would take care of the rest.
I was on the alert for my water breaking, and on Sunday, April 25, I started to sit down on the couch when I felt a small gush. I waited for the whole day and finally that night I called Labor and Delivery and they told me to come in. I took a shower and ate a last supper before we drove to the base hospital. Once there, they checked to see if my water had indeed broken. It had. And that meant I wouldn’t be leaving the hospital, because there is a risk of infection once the amniotic fluid begins to leak. We decided to try to get contractions going on their own by walking the halls, doing a little workout, bouncing on my birth ball, squatting, and asking everyone to pray! We even got a little nap in, which was good, because none of it worked.
None of it.
At around 11 the next morning, we had come to the decision to start the Pitocin drip.
For about eight to ten hours I breathed through contractions. It was very manageable, but I had some crazy things begin to happen. If I let myself, I would SHAKE uncontrollably. The hormones were insane; in fact, for a few minutes my hands felt HUGE, like they were blown up. I’ve never felt like I had popcorn for hands, but I surely did then! My midwife felt that maybe I was close, and told me that if I was, I was coping well. But I was scared I was coping well because I wasn’t that far dilated. I was correct. After hours of contractions, I had moved from 2-3 cm to 4 cm (5 during contractions). This was a low point for me. My midwife asked me if I would like her to break the rest of my waters (apparently the forebag hadn’t broken when part of my waters broke). She basically popped the bag which didn’t hurt at all, there was just lots of warm water at that point!
From that point on, things got more intense. I found a position facing the back of the inclined bed, propped up on my knees, leaning forward. I asked my husband for counter pressure, and he obliged…”obliging” meaning he spent 6-8 hours from that point on applying counter pressure on my back. We got into a rhythm. The contraction would start, I would yell for help, he would jump on the bed and press on my back as hard as he could (my back popped several times, and postpartum it sort of was tweaked, but I did not care LOL), then he would jump off the bed, offer me a sip of water, then rest for a tiny amount of time before the next contraction came.
The worst part of the whole birth came when my body started...bearing down? It was very strange, and I couldn’t finish my breath. Instead, it turned into almost a shudder. I did not like that.
I wanted to feel what a contraction felt like without counter pressure, but I ended up calling my husband every time. Sometimes he would be using the bathroom and I would call him, and he would come running in. He was such a hero!
I was managing, but hours of this was exhausting. I was checked again, because I thought I was close to pushing, but I was only a seven. This was so discouraging to me. My midwife, who knew I did not want to be offered pain medication, told me gently she wasn’t offering anything, but I needed to consider my options.
At this point, I had no plan. I knew in a few hours I would look back and wish I hadn’t taken pain medication. I thought, “there is no way I’m sitting still for thirty minutes for an epidural.” The nurses were already running in every two minutes to fix the monitors I would inadvertently knock out of position!
So I just kept going. I truly believe the Lord gave me the strength to just keep going. To dig deeper than I had ever gone before, and triumph through the Lord’s strength. Pretty soon I started pushing, my whole body nearly uncontrollably bearing down. They told me to do small pushes as they weren’t sure my body was ready to push (and if you push prematurely, you can swell, causing problems). At that point I didn’t care. About anything. There was literally so much going on down there- water had been gushing all over the floor, blood, and all kinds of *other things* (my husband was such a dear for cleaning up after me haha). I didn’t push more than I had to, I just pushed, and it really wasn’t that bad at that point.
They decided to check me again, and (God be praised!) I was finally at nine cm, and the nurse announced I was ready. Contrary to what the nurse had said, pushing was not more painful nor was I screaming. I definitely made some noise, but it was one of the most amazing, crazy, wonderful, fun things I have ever done, ever.
I went for it.
After a little while of pushing on all fours, they changed my position to my side, lifted up my leg, and told me to push. I PUSHED. Emilie started coming out, the midwife told me her heart rate was dropping and to push with everything I had, I pushed again, and Emilie came flying out into my husband’s waiting hands. It felt soooo strange, like she had so many limbs! Within seconds she was on my chest. I had done it, or more accurately- God had accomplished it through my husband and me.
There’s more to the story, of course. More things said, more prayers prayed, more everything. But all of it pales in comparison to seeing God bring me through this birth. It was one of the best, most fulfilling days of my life. When I thought there was no way I could go on, I was wrong. When I asked God to take all of the discomfort away, He didn’t necessarily answer that prayer the way I would have wanted. Instead He answered in wisdom and strength, allowing me to go through the challenge in order to shape and mold me. I can honestly say it was physically the hardest thing I’ve endured, but it was very manageable. It wasn’t a mental challenge to be sneezed at, but God’s Grace was sufficient! Through an unplanned induction and 18 hours of labor, He made His glory shine so beautifully.
To every woman reading this, you were made for hard things! Whatever that looks like in your own life, embrace the challenge, dig deeper than you think you can, and trust the Lord with all your heart. He is a good and faithful God with incredible plans for us!
Welcome, my sweet Emilie Joy. We love you!
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