Moriah's Story, Part Four

Part One is here.
Part Two is here.
Part Three is here.

At this point in labor--9 centimeters dilated, six and a half hours since my water broke--I was still feeling amazingly good.  After Barbara, the midwife, checked my dilation, I got out of the bed and spent most of the rest of the time in the rocking chair.  My nurse Arlene knew that I didn't enjoy being tied down by the monitors, so when the required time of checking the baby's heartbeat was over, she started to unhook me; but contrary to my normal pattern, I actually didn't mind having the monitors on and staying in one place--as long as that place was the rocking chair, not the bed--so I stopped her and let her know she could leave the monitors on.  They showed that everything with the baby was fine, and it was nice to have that reassurance.

There was one problem we were dealing with, however.  Very soon after Barbara took over for Ann, she sat down for a talk with me and let me know that my blood pressure was high (well, I knew that already because Arlene had been checking it regularly) and that it would be best to go ahead and start an IV to get some fluid into me in hopes of bringing down my blood pressure.  I had gone into labor hoping to get away with not having an IV--partially because I, as mentioned previously, don't like being tied down, but also because my veins are apparently full of valves and are very hard to stick.  It always takes a few people to try before someone finally succeeds in getting an IV in me; and believe it or not, I don't really enjoy being a human pincushion!  Especially not when I'm in labor!  ;-)  With Shav's birth, the absolute worst part had been when the nurses were trying to start an IV in my arm and I had to lie in the bed while they did it and I dilated to 10 centimeters while they were digging around in my arm and it was horrible.  I was NOT eager to have a repeat of that experience, so a few weeks before my due date, I had talked with the midwife at my regular appointment (it happened to be Ann that time), and we decided that I would plan to not get an IV during labor this time...unless there was a specific reason I needed it.

When Barbara told me about my high blood pressure, there was the "specific reason," so of course I didn't mind getting an IV in that case.  Anything to make sure that labor progressed safely so that my little girl could be born without harm!  A labor & delivery nurse came in and attempted to stick me and, not surprising to us, didn't succeed.  (Not to put down her "sticking" ability...we just know what a tough stick I am!)  But then, thankfully, a nurse from IV Therapy was called, came fairly quickly, and after carefully looking over my arms and hands, found a spot she thought would work.  Sure enough, she got it on the first try.  Bless you, IV Therapy Lady!  :)

This is a picture Jeff took while she worked on me...  :)

Barbara knew, of course, that I wasn't thrilled about getting an IV; but she was so encouraging--even remarking once, as she watched me consciously relax during a contraction that came during the IV ordeal, that I was doing a good job of handling things.  Words of affirmation are ALWAYS appreciated ;-), and her comment brought joy and strength to my heart.

I think it was before this though that we had a special visitor.  Ann Swartz, who had been so helpful during Shav's birth (and who is quite a legend 'round these here parts when it comes to birthin' babies!) happened to be working that morning, and she popped into my room to say hello and chat for a bit.  It was good to see a familiar face, and her energy and enthusiasm spilled over, like they always do.  That's just how Ann is.  ;-)

Speaking of chatting, Barbara and Arlene hung out in my room for a wonderfully long time, and we all sat (or stood) around and shot the breeze.

I don't remember what we talked about that whole time, but I do know that Barbara regaled us with stories about her children and grandchildren and even showed us pictures on her cell phone from her recent trip to be with some of her family.

I found this to be a fantastic distraction; and even when I was having a contraction (which I'm pretty sure I was doing in these pictures because of the way my hand is curled around the arm of the rocking chair and holding onto it), I could keep my mind diverted from focusing on the sensation.  It was still fairly easy to deal with the contractions.

The other huge (really HUGE!) help during this time was...don't laugh...Facebook, email, and this blog.  OK, you can laugh if you want.  I was having so much fun popping online and was so encouraged by what people were saying:  comments on the blog and on Facebook about how people were praying for us and how excited they were, etc...well, all of that was such a buoyant lift to my spirits.  I remember specifically that I got to chat through Facebook with my cousin Doreen in Canada; she just had a baby about a month ago, and it was nice to not only go through our pregnancies together but also share a little time during my labor.  ;-)  Besides just being fun, all my online activity was, once again, keeping my mind off the contractions.  I was completely happy not to pay any attention to them!

One thing that made me laugh during this time was that once, when Arlene was out of the room (after she and Barbara hung out and talked with us for quite a while, they both disappeared to take care of duties elsewhere), I was sitting in the rocking chair, computer on my lap (just like is pictured above).  Arlene kind of hustled into the room and asked, "Are you OK?"  I was a little puzzled and wondered why she asked that.  Of course I was OK!  It turns out that she had been out at the nurses' station and could see on the monitor there that I was having a really big contraction and was concerned about how I was doing with it.  I literally did not even know anything out of the ordinary was happening until she asked me that; then I glanced over at the print-out from the monitor near me and saw the big spike in the graph.  Oh yeah.  I guess I was having a big contraction!  :)

I should also mention the other factor that made this part of labor such a pleasant experience.  Several weeks beforehand, I had put together a list of songs that I thought I'd like to listen to during labor, and Jeff had downloaded them to his phone.  He set that up to be playing during this time, and I LOVED having that music in the background.  Sometimes I consciously tuned into it; sometimes I didn't.  But I believe it helped create a calm, positive, worshipful atmosphere that brought peace to my spirit and joy to my heart.

I really did feel peaceful and joyful.  The absence of fear was amazing.  I'm grateful beyond words for that gift.

At some point, Barbara checked me again and said that I only had an anterior lip remaining but was otherwise fully dilated.  I was glad to hear that, of course, but had no desire to push yet; and Barbara--bless her--didn't rush me.  The same scenario happened during Tobin's birth: Barbara was my midwife, I fully dilated, but she gave me time even after that point for my body to labor down before I started actively pushing.  I wasn't surprised this time that Barbara didn't rush, but I was grateful!  :)

Things continued, for the most part, as they had been.  I was either in the rocking chair or walking to the bathroom or standing.  When I was sitting down, I was either talking to the others in the room or spending time online.  But gradually, changes were happening inside me, and my body was getting ready.  I distinctly remember having the computer on my lap, but then coming to the realization that I didn't want it anymore.  The time was approaching for the baby to be born, so it was time for my attention to shift.  I closed the laptop and set it aside.  I was ready to shift gears.

I still wasn't in a hurry though; and--this makes me laugh--the thing that finally got me ready to push was Arlene and her coming departure.  Her shift was scheduled to be over at 11:00; and by this time, it was probably around 10:30 or so, I'm guessing?  She made some comment about the baby needing to be born before she left, and I knew that I REALLY wanted Arlene there for it, so I decided that I'd better get started with pushing.  It's funny to me that the impetus for the birth was my nurse's schedule; if she hadn't been scheduled to get off until noon, maybe Moriah wouldn't have been born until 11:57!  :)

I think either Arlene or Barbara suggested that I get in the bed, but I did NOT want to do that.  Instead, I chose to stand beside the bed, close to the foot of it.  Jeff came and stood at the foot and held me in his arms.  I swayed a little back and forth.  Meanwhile, the mental battle raged.

You see, I did NOT want to push.  This was when I hit the wall.  I did not like what was going on, I did not like what I was feeling, I did not like what I knew I was going to have to do.  But I was able to maintain control enough that I didn't speak those words; in fact, I don't think I let anything negative escape from my lips.  (Jeff might have to correct me on that, because maybe I've forgotten.)  Inside my head, however, I was trying to cling to truth and peace and strength and all of that good stuff; but honestly, I wasn't doing a very good job.  I knew though that the only thing I could do was go THROUGH it.  I had to push her out.  There was no alternative.

If I am ever pregnant again, I'm going to have to do a better job of preparing for the pushing.  With all of my labors except Shav's, the pushing has been by far the hardest part; and in the case of Shav's, it only escaped being the hardest part because of the horrendous IV-stabbing-while-going-through-transition-while-lying-on-my-back-in-bed episode that immediately proceeded pushing.  With all of the others though, pushing has been my most challenging battle: physically and mentally.  If I ever do this again, it has got to be different!

Well, there I was, standing by the bed, Barbara (in a chair? on a stool?) behind me, Jeff holding me up, Arlene somewhere, other people in the room, I think (nurses for the baby, I suppose?), my mother using Grandma's fan to blow cool breezes into my face at my request.  The time had come.

Jeff was my rock.  I clung to him, he held me up, I drew strength from him, he prayed over me.  By this point, I was making some sort of sound--moaning, I guess, or something guttural.  I can't remember that I was saying any words.  The minutes felt like hours.  I pushed, then had to take a break because I momentarily lost my ability to bear down.  I felt like I had let down all the others in the room when I had to take that break.  I pushed some more.  She was partially out.  I think Barbara said something about her chin being stuck?  (That makes me laugh as I type this.)  I knew I had to push again.  Oh, the agony.  I could feel my baby stretching my body so much.  And then...

Moriah was born.  She was born!!!!!  Oh, the ecstasy!

The time was 10:57.  Nine hours and seven minutes after my water broke.  Three whole minutes before Arlene's shift ended.  ;-)

A chorus of thanks poured from my lips.  "Thank You, God!  Thank you, everybody!"  I felt so supported and encouraged and helped by God, Jeff, my mom, Barbara, and Arlene; and I wanted them to know how grateful I was.

I hardly know what happened next.  I have a dim recollection of turning around to see Moriah as she was being held on Barbara's lap.  I do remember Barbara or someone confirmed that it was indeed a girl.  ;-)  I think Jeff cut the umbilical cord.  I don't think I held Moriah immediately, but I do know I crawled up into the bed and awaited the delivery of the placenta.  Barbara sat on the bed beside me, I believe, and watched over my bleeding and contracting.  The bleeding - yikes!  But before I knew how bad that was, Moriah was brought to me; and, for the first time, I held my beloved, long-awaited, already-cherished, gorgeous daughter in my arms.

If you've never given birth, you might be wondering how a slimy little creature like this could possibly be called gorgeous.

But if you have given birth, you know full well that gorgeous is a perfectly acceptable adjective for one's newborn babe!  ;-)

I was so happy that Moriah was born, so overjoyed to meet her face to face, so grateful to have the hard work of pushing behind me.  So, so happy.

But then things went a little downhill, and my recovery was challenging.  More to come later...