Evelyn's Birth Story by Emily

I want to write it all down so I don’t forget – though it seems odd that I would forget the most intense day of my life.

On July 16, 2017, I woke up around 10:30 feeling contractions. I had been worried I wouldn’t recognize them, but I could feel my stomach tightening. It was light enough (or I was tired enough, somehow), to sleep through them. At one point I downloaded a contraction timing app, but I probably had only 2 or so until it got intense and I started wondering if I should take a shower. I woke David up around 1am, telling him I was having contractions and was going to shower – he questioned why I needed to shower, but I’m glad I didn’t listen – I wouldn’t have been able to shower (or shave my legs!) much longer. Soon, the contractions moved to my back – which I had a feeling would happen since the days before I had intense pain in my tailbone, and I figured she was sunnyside up. I crawled onto my hands and knees and moaned into a pillow with every contraction. It was strange though – sometimes I felt like a mini contraction before a big one. I thought I had a contraction, then went to the bathroom and was almost doubled over on my way back to bed – thus missing the opportunity to tell David when to time it.

We called Alyssa, our doula, who suggested a bath and not to call Baby & Co until the contractions were closer together. I got in the bath while David took a shower. I had one or two contractions in the tub, and it wasn’t as calming as I was hoping it would be. I could still feel Evelyn kick inside me, which made me feel like things were going ok.

Around 2am (I think), I started vomiting with (or after) contractions. The nausea was awful – it made it hard to tell when a contraction was starting or stopping. We called Stephanie at Baby & Co and she said that is normal for active labor. The night continued with some vomiting, a peppermint essential oil-soaked cotton ball (at Alyssa’s suggestion for the nausea), contractions and it became a bit of a blur. Finally around 6 or 7am, Alyssa was on her way as my contractions were closer together – 5 minutes apart or so. David went to take the dogs out and feed them.

Alyssa arrived at 8am, and my nausea had the best of me. I was curled on the floor, bowl beside me. She immediately got cool washcloths and loaded them into the freezer. I remember at one point telling her not to do cirlces on my back – it made me feel seasick. Maisie kept trying to climb up and kiss me, and I spent most of the next few hours on the couch, hands and knees, puking and trying to deal with back labor (oh, and eating ice cubes!). Finally, we were ready to head to the birth center. David helped get sweatpants on me, and I remember leaning over the couch as we waited for a good (ha!) time to go between contractions. The vomiting kept happening, and the drive to the birth center thankfully was pretty quick. I felt like a wreck at this point – and was starting to panic that I wasn’t handling labor as well as I had wanted to. I always heard that between contractions you get to rest, and feel better, but instead between my contractions, I was vomiting (or dry heaving) and already felt exhausted from it all.

We made it to the birth center – Baby & Co - around 9am and they tried to get me to wait for Alex in the lobby, but I kept heading back towards the rooms. To my surprise, she directed us to an exam room first, to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, check my blood pressure. She checked me and I was only a 4 (she stretched me to a 5) – I wanted to cry. I thought for sure with the pain I was in that I would be at least close to transition. We made it to the birth room, and they set me up with a peanut ball so we could try to get her to turn and engage. The peanut ball was so uncomfortable as I needed to be on my hands and knees to puke… so I would kick it off with most contractions (probably why it wasn’t helpful at all).

I think there was music playing from my playlist, and Alyssa took some photos but it wasn’t a peaceful experience – I was too nauseous. Alex gave me some iv fluids – two bags – and nausea medicine, but I still felt sick and often dry-heaved throughout the day. At one point we got in the tub, and I felt even more seasick. I watched the bright orange bowl – usually reserved for popcorn in our house - bobbing in the water beside me in a bit of a daze until David took it away, realizing how seasick I was getting.

To try to get her to turn, they used the rebozo (a big scarf) around my belly, and had me hold onto the wooden bars mounted on the wall of the room. For every contraction, I would tuck my pelvis and they would use the scarf to pull against my belly to get her to move backwards inside me. I couldn’t tell if I was making progress – at times my contractions seemed less intense – it was the puking that was getting the best of me. I also realized at some point I was totally naked, and didn’t care at all – it’s true what they say about that. I labored on the toilet too – sitting backwards and trying to tuck my pelvis in to get her to engage a bit more.

Finally, back on the bed, Alex came in around 3pm and talked to us about breaking my water. She said it would make the contractions more intense (this scared me – I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle!), but it would help us make progress. However, at 41 weeks, there was a chance there was meconium in the water, in which case we would have to transfer to the hospital. Dave and I looked at each other and I agreed to breaking my water. Alex and midwife Katie came in to do it. It didn’t hurt or feel like anything – just warm water soaking into the bed, but they immediately told me I went from a 5 to an 8 (holy moly) and there was a knowing look as they had assumed – there was meconium in the water. Alex said we had half an hour to try to give birth before we had to transfer, so she suggested sitting back on the toilet, and pushing to see if I could get the baby to move down and engage. I sat backwards on the toilet, and pushed with each contraction, and felt so much pressure in my lower back, but still couldn’t determine if I was making progress. I felt relieved that there was a next step though – even if that step was going to the hospital. At least something was happening – I felt a little energized, not defeated.

Finally, it was time to go to the hospital. They wrapped me in a robe, and sent David to go get the car. Alyssa had to run home to get our wallets – we realized we may need IDs at the hospital. As Alex was there with me getting ready to walk me to the car, I told her in a whisper – this is so much more intense than I thought. It was all I could manage to say and the only words I spoke other than “ice” (the hours had passed with me feebly whispering “ice” and David or Alyssa sliding an ice chip in my mouth). She sort of smiled and agreed with me, and gently told me I could get an epidural at the hospital if I wanted to – that it was ok to take a nap and regain some energy and wake up and have a baby a few hours later.

We walked to the car, and I think Alex’s husband was there – she said goodbye to him and I remember thinking the construction workers in the parking lot must think I am a disaster, clutching my big orange bowl and in a robe that was 12 sizes too big for me. We pulled into the parking deck, parked in handicap (Alex assured us Alyssa could move our car later), and Alex got a wheelchair. They wheeled me into the hospital, past another mom in labor, who was obviously not as much of a disaster as I was – they were quick let me go first in the elevator. We signed a couple forms and then raced off to the room as the nurses were ready for us – even running to get a big thing of ice water. I felt badly because I couldn’t talk to the nurses – I would open my mouth but the contractions were coming on top of each other and words wouldn’t form. Our first nurse was Kristen, who was a sweet blonde nurse who was pregnant herself. She was kind, but everyone was a little frustrated the monitors wouldn’t stay on since I was leaning forward in the bed, still feeling contractions wrapping around my back.

Alone in the hospital room with my “team” I hesitantly (and in whispers) told David and Alyssa I wanted an epidural and apologized for not being able to handle it. David assured me it was ok, and Alyssa reminded me I was at an 8 and asked if I was sure – when I said yes, she was supportive as well. So we told the nurses… like everything in labor, I thought that meant it could happen immediately… but we got to the hospital around 3:45 or 4pm, and I didn’t get the epidural until 6, in part because they had to take my blood and give me more fluids (I was too dehydrated).

The anesthesiologist came in – an older man who asked me immediately about my RSD – I stared at him and David, willing David to answer for me (he didn’t) – I wasn’t about to carry on a conversation about my nerve condition at the moment. I jumped when he put in the numbing medication – he gruffly told me, “that’s exactly what you should not do when I actually do the epidural” and I was able to stay still for the next part. The minute or two after I got the epidural, I started to feel a sense of relief and all of a sudden there was commotion. They put an oxygen mask on my face and told me to get on my hands and knees – the baby’s heart rate had dropped and we may need an emergency c-section. The guilt and fear I felt in that moment was awful – I couldn’t believe I finally opted for an epidural only to have it jeopardize Evelyn. I made eye contact with David, and I could tell he was scared, but he nodded and said it was ok. Quickly her heart rate stabilized and I was able to lay on my side. They got me a peanut ball and brought the ob-gyn in to meet me – Dr. Arronte. She said she was there to make sure I had a vaginal delivery, and would only be there in case I needed surgery. Alex told me if the heart rate dropped again, they would rush to a c-section – so that was in the back of my mind.

I felt better, and could talk to the nurses, to David and Alyssa (who went to get food at this point), and could even laugh at times. I could feel my legs and move them, but felt like I could doze off (which they encouraged). I didn’t get a chance to, though, because I took a sip of apple juice and threw up again, and then could start to feel my contractions again. I peed a little while set up on the peanut ball to get her to rotate, and apologized to the nurse, who did my catheter which I could definitely feel as she inserted it. The nurses had changed shifts, so my new nurse was Grace, a tall pretty brunette with a brusque attitude at first. I asked if I could turn up my epidural, telling her I could feel everything and she told me that wasn’t possible, but then showed me a button I could press to get some temporary relief. I don’t think she believed me that I could still feel my contractions, but they had changed – I realized the peanut ball worked and contractions were no longer wrapping around my back – just strong cramp-like feelings now. At this point, it was around 8 and I was starting to think I could feel a change in the baby’s position. By 9, I was feeling an urge to push. I think at 9:15 or 9:30, I frantically told Alyssa to get Alex so I could push, and around 10, Alex casually said, ok, if you want to push, go for it. I was so confused – wasn’t there supposed to be the NICU team in there for the baby? I thought pushing meant the baby was coming immediately.

Eventually, Alex told Grace that I wanted to push, so she came in. They told me to push like I was trying to poop, and to push for 3 counts of 10 during each contraction, holding my breath with each push. I was exhausted but ready to prove I could have this baby out quicker than they were expecting. At first, I didn’t really feel her move down, but they assured me I was doing great (while also telling me that some moms push for 3 hours…. Which was not going to happen to me, I was convinced). We pushed like that for awhile, and finally around 10:15, Grace told me she could see hair. Around 10:20, they told me I could reach down and feel her head, but they still didn’t call for the NICU team yet, and Alex was still casually sitting there, not dressed in her “baby catching suit” or whatever. I decided at that moment that I could have her out by 10:45pm. At 10:30, I felt her head come out even further (still declining the mirror), and they finally called the NICU team. At 10:35ish, Alex got dressed and at one point looked at me with a smile and said she doesn’t put all this gear on for nothing. It felt a little anti-climactic, but when her head fully came out they told me (I felt the “ring of fire” for sure, but it had been burning for awhile as her head was on its way out for a few contractions), then her body just sort of slipped out. She was blue-ish and let out a little cry, but all of a sudden, Alex handed David the scissors and had him cut the cord, and the NICU team grabbed her. I soon heard her cry, and saw she was turning pink on the table. She had big cheeks and I was so relieved she was out. I asked a few times if she was ok, and Alex told me she was.

A few minutes later, they brought her to me and put her on my chest. We took pictures, and that’s when Alex started working on my placenta.

The umbilical cord broke when she tugged on it to come out, and after telling me to bear down and push a few times (which I did), it didn’t do anything. I didn’t realize it was an issue until Dr. Hull, the obgyn came in, and Alex said that had never happened to her before. They added Pitocin to my IV, then pushed down on my stomach to help get the placenta out. Nothing worked. For the next 2.5 hours, they had to manually go in and pull out pieces of my placenta – Dr. Hull had her entire arm inside me, scraping off little pieces, while telling me if I wanted we could go to the OR. It was truly awful, I was gasping and felt like I couldn’t breathe – Alyssa was coaching me, and David was holding our baby as it felt like I was giving birth again – the nurse and doula next to me telling me how to breathe and letting me squeeze their hands. They called back in the anesthesiologist and he upped my epidural. They gave me Pitocin and morphine in my IV, and at one point the nurse held Evelyn to my breast to start feeding – I couldn’t hold her, or barely focus on her. I considered asking to go to surgery (Dr Hull told me she wanted to avoid the OR because I’d be away from Evelyn for hours, but to tell her when I’d had enough), and I thought with the last pass that if it wasn’t the last pass, I would give up. I didn’t know I could make it any further, but I was determined to try to avoid surgery if I could. Thankfully, at the last one, I asked sort of breathlessly if they got it all and Dr. Hull did one final sweep and told me she thought she did. They said I’d have an ultrasound tomorrow to check to make sure.

Afterwards, I couldn’t feel my legs thanks to my new epidural, and I was shaky but happy – not yet processing what happened. Grace gave me some options for food and went down to get me a burger and fries – I could eat a little of each. Alyssa and Alex finally headed out afterwards, with so many thanks and hugs from us. Then, Grace helped lift me into a wheelchair and we went to the mother/baby area of the hospital to recover. The nurses were so nice and Grace told me they called ahead to tell them what happened so I could have pain medicine. The nurses who cared for me afterwards were some of the kindest women I’ve ever met. The sweet nurse for that first bathroom visit after delivery, my midwives who stopped in and Stephanie, who encouraged me to walk – even if it was just to the bathroom and back to bed – as much as possible.

Overall, labor, delivery and everything about it was nothing like I imagined. It took awhile to process that my birth experience wasn’t anything like I had planned. I felt like a failure that I wasn’t able to handle contractions well – I pride myself on my strong pain tolerance and felt like I was defeated. I also was incredible sore, weak and swollen from the placenta complications (in addition to the vaginal delivery). I was on anti-hemorrhaging medicine and hydrocodone the week following our release, which made me swollen, caused contractions and I felt loopy and miserable. The day after I stopped the medicine, I felt so much better, and then every day following got a little better. David made me sitz baths he simmered on the stove and set in our little bathroom, and set up the stepstool so I could get in and out of bed. He wrote a chart for my medicine doses and slept next to Evelyn so he could pass her to me when she cried at night since I couldn’t lift her from the bassinet. Before birth, he had secretly made witchhazel frozen pads for me, and every night he made me some more, along with a serving of overnight oats for breakfast. Seeing him take charge of me, of us, was incredible.

I was also scared at the what if’s – thankfully the placenta didn’t cause any issues for Evelyn, but my mind went to – what if it did? I try to push those thoughts away, and instead be thankful for the experience – it truly made me stronger, and I felt like I was well cared for and supported by David, Alex and Alyssa, as well as the nurses, all the way through.

It was the most intense day/night of my life, and brought me Evelyn – who thankfully is ok and resilient too.

Three days after leaving the hospital, I went back to baby + co to hug Alex. With a young, expectant couple in the waiting room, I broke down and sobbed when I saw her. She held me and cried and I told her through tears that I always felt safe and thanked her. She gave me her cell phone and told me to text her later.

She wrote me that night:

“You are a powerhouse. You made all the right decisions. I just think about how things work out. To have had your baby at the birth center and then had to go by ambulance to get the placenta out. That would have had to be two ambulances. One for you and one for E. Then you would have been exhausted. I am also glad every day is getting better especially off the methergine. It has some benefits but it also has crazy side effects. That placenta getting pulled out of you piece by piece was unbearable. You are the only woman I have seen get through it. I have seen it done a few times with physicians and every time the woman says stop take me to the operating room. So I’m not just saying you are a powerhouse to make you feel good. It’s because you actually are a power house.

Powerhouse (noun): a person (you) or thing that contains great energy, strength and power!

My hope is you realize it more and more every day. And on the really hard days – I hope you will shout it to the top of your voice – I AM A POWERHOUSE!!!”

Emily, a mom of two, wife and executive at a media company. Originally from Cleveland, my career has taken me to Charlotte, North Carolina, where I had my two children, and I now reside in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My husband and I have a five year old daughter and almost two year old son, who are smart, funny, and resourceful enough to create massive craft projects spanning multiple rooms and flood our bathroom - all in under 5 minutes time. I spend my days enjoying my demanding job, ordering way too much take-out, and allowing our house to get overrun with art projects, jars of pebbles and the mess and happiness that comes from two kids, two dogs, and two parents who work full time. Motherhood created a new identity and a shift in the way I prioritize my time, self and I am constantly humbled and exhausted by it all.