Paxton was born on October 17, 2011 at 9:59 pm. He weighed 7lbs 13oz and was 20.5 inches long, but he looks so much bigger to me!

Deciding to Induce

Paxton’s story actually starts about a week ago, at our 40 week appointment with our lovely midwife, Carol. During the appointment, Pax passed all his tests with flying colors, as usual. He was active, had a great heart beat and was happy as a clam. My only concern was that I had lost weight and lost a few centimeters in my fundal height measurement (which had not increased in three weeks prior). I asked Carol about fluid, and, since I was due, she agreed that we would schedule an NST and an ultrasound the following week (presuming I did not go into labor before then, which we all though was a possibility given his position (low low low) and the progress I’d already made).

Well, labor never came. I did everything I could to get him going, but not even a single contraction. I was fine with it. I was comfortable going all the way to 42 weeks if I needed to. On the morning of the 17th, Jeff and I drove to our appointment, and both of us thought we’d be back home by noon with the good news that fluid was fine and we just needed to wait it out.

Pax was a superstar during his ultrasound. He was head down (but face up) and all his measurements looked spot on. I made the mistake of asking the ultrasound tech to guesstimate the weight for fun, and she suggested 8lbs 13oz! I thought, “Holy crap, he’ll be huge

During the NST, Carol came in. She was very gentle and said, “He’s doing great, but your instincts were right. His fluid is very low.” How low? She would have been comfortable with 8, and he was hovering just around 6.

I was shocked. I just sat there. I said, “Okay.” She said, “Let’s just finish your NST and then we’ll check you out and chat at your regular appointment after.”

My husband and I talked. We knew that, if fluid was low today, Carol intended to recommend a Pitocin induction, which was my worst labor scenario imaginable. I also knew that the typical treatments for low fluid (bed rest, drink lots of water) were already part of my lifestyle. As a freelance writer, I drank drank drank all day and spent lots of time resting and relaxing (when we weren’t hiking trying to induce, of course!). I also wondered how I would fare mentally going home, knowing I needed to check his movement constantly, always worried to sleep and then not feel him in the morning.

After the NST, we went into the room and waited for Carol. I asked Jeff what he was thinking, and he said, “A lot of things.” I just kept saying, “I can’t believe this. I really can’t. I am in shock.” And I was.

When Carol came in, she checked me and I was still very favorable in terms of dilation (3cm) and effacement (95%). Since his fluid was the issue, she would not recommend breaking my water in an effort to induce labor, and I agreed. But I also told it to her exactly like it was: “I really think Pitocin is evil, and I feel like being induced eliminates all of my visions of a low-intervention birth, including no epidural. I feel like it’s impossible to have a Pit induction without an epidural.”

She was incredibly kind. She told me she understood 100% why I would feel that way, but also said she really doubted I needed to stay on the Pit the whole time. “You’ll just need a kickstart,” she said, “and then we will turn it off and you will do it all on your own. That’s my honest prediction.”

We chatted more about what in my birth plan changed because of the induction. I’d have to have an IV (“That sucks,” I said. “Honestly, that really sucks.”). I’d have to have constant monitoring, but it was portable and I could still labor in the tub/walk around/move however I wanted to. I explained to her that being able to move around with incredibly important to me, and she assured me she and the nurses would accommodate it.

After talking, she called to the Birth Center and they had a room ready for me. We went to have lunch. I was still walking around in shock and awe. Halfway through my turkey sandwich, it hit me: I panicked. I sobbed. We sat in an outdoor café and Jeff cuddled me and let me tell him everything I was afraid of. I felt totally unprepared (yep, even at 41 weeks). I was terrified of what I didn’t know was coming, but then I just said, “Okay. Let’s do this. It has to happen eventually and it might as well be today.”

We got our bag from the car, called my mom, told her a laundry list of things we’d forgotten to bring (holy procrastinators), and then went upstairs to the Birth Center. I was still in total denial and kept saying, “I can’t believe this is happening. I am totally in denial. I don’t believe this.” But it was happening, whether I accepted it or not!

Beginning Labor

By 1:03 pm, I was hooked up to all those horrid monitors and ready to go. My wonderful and amazing nurse Rachel was 100% supportive of our birth plan, which, at this point, was to let me labor on my own as much as possible, and if I needed something, I would use a Safeword and let her know. Other than that, I didn’t want to be offered any interventions.

I’ve never had an IV before and it was one of the things I was really hoping to avoid. The needle stick wasn’t as bad as I imagined, but being attached to the tubes took a lot of getting used to and, even though I could move around, I felt very restricted and it did distract me.

At 1:00, Carol and Rachel started the Pitocin drip. It was the strangest kind of waiting. I was obsessed with staring at the monitors, watching the drip, looking at his heart rate, and watching to see if I was having contractions. The started the drip on the lowest possible dose and only increased it every half hour based on how I was feeling.

By 1:30, I was totally bored. I couldn’t feel any contractions and I was worried that, after all of my mental adjusting, it wouldn’t work. Carol came in with Rachel to see about upping the dose, and I told her, “I don’t think I’m having contractions.” She chuckled. “You are, about every 4 minutes at this point.”

Totally shocked. I felt a little bit of pressure, but nothing more than what it felt like when he pressed his butt into my lungs. I rated my discomfort at a 1. They upped the dose. I told Carol, “You know, the 17th is the date that my Nana picked as her guess date.”

She said, “Well, it’s definitely possible. We’ll see.” I didn’t say it, but I glanced at the clock and felt really overwhelmed in that moment. The notion that this would likely last into the next day was very disappointing for me.

I labored on my birth ball for the entire first three hours, and Rachel came in every half hour and upped my dose. By 3 pm, I could feel contractions as they were coming, but something seemed wrong about them. They were coming every 2 minutes, but completely concentrated on my back. At this point, though, my discomfort was still not even above a 3, and I worried we weren’t progressing at all.

Carol came back in around 5 to check on me. I was in the zone by then, trying different positions, but mostly sticking to my birth ball, largely because I felt totally encumbered by the IV pole. When she came to check me out, I was on my bed, laying over my birth ball on my knees. Jeff and my mom were alternating taking turns rubbing my back and applying pressure during contractions, which were well-established at this point.

Carol decided to check to see if we were making progress. She was very patient and let me choose what position I wanted to be in during the check and waiting until I told her it was okay. I was fully effaced and she said I was a comfortable 4cm, but very easily stretched beyond. She hung around in there a bit, and honestly the exam was not painful, even with her stretching and tugging.

I mentioned to her that in between contractions, I felt like I might pass out from exhaustion. I couldn’t believe how tired I was. Contractions were still manageable and I was only vocalizing a little bit, but in between I just thought, “Oh my god, I am so tired. I will never be able to make it through this without a solid nap.”

She told me that she would be back around 8 pm to check, and if I was still hovering around a 4 or 5 that she would shut the Pit off entirely and see if I could rest a bit and then we’d start again in the morning. I couldn’t decide which option sounded worse: keeping this up for what seemed like an endless amount of time, or stopping it in the middle of progress and starting over in the morning. But I just said, “Okay, we’ll see” and stayed focused.

As soon as she left, things really picked up. I started to get lost in Labor Land. I stayed on my ball, but was tired and had a hard time sitting up once a contraction was over. My vocalizations got much louder, and I almost surprised myself with how vocal I was being. My mom and Jeff constantly encouraged me to rest between contractions, and it did help.

But the contractions stayed focused in my back, something I wasn’t prepared for. The pressure was incredible (and, honestly, felt quite powerful when I remembered it was MY body doing it!), and Jeff and mom applying counter pressure were the only things I wanted. At some point, the nurse told me she was turning down my Pitocin, to which I said, “Excellent choice.”

I started getting really confused. People asked me what I wanted, and I was surprised that I had no idea. The options overwhelmed me. Once I was in a position, I was hesitant to switch it for fear of making the sensations more intense. I stayed put firmly on my ball, rocking the hell out of it during contractions. I started shaking at one point, and my mom suggested I try the tub. I nodded, but worried that getting in too soon would slow things down. I didn’t want to start over.

We filled the tub, and getting inside brought instant relief for my back. It was much easier to relax during contractions. I could tell I was feeling better. I started joking with Jeff. He asked what I wanted, and all I could say was, “A burrito.” I was suddenly starving. I demanded that he smuggle me in some Swedish fish my mom had brought, and he did without a second thought. Then I made him spoon feed me Jello as fast as he could in between contractions. Eating really made me feel better.

But soon laying in the tub created a problem because I needed the pressure on my back to manage very intense contractions. I sat forward and Jeff pressed on my lower back during contraction after contraction after contraction.

I hit a wall. A big one. I couldn’t get comfortable, and finally I leaned over the edge of the tub on my knees and whimpered and sobbed. I told Jeff I wanted to go home. I went from growling and grunting through contractions to high-pitched wails and pathetic-sounding baby cries. After about four contractions like that, we decided to get out of the tub and try another position while we waiting for Carol. I hadn’t realized it then, but the nurse had paged her to come early because she thought I might be pushing a bit during some of my tub contractions. This was around 7 pm. Within a few moments of Carol coming in, I heard her mention to the nurse to turn the Pitocin completely off.

I got back on my ball, and the shaking returned. Carol came in and quietly sat next to me with her crocheting, whispering to me, reminding me to breathe. During each contraction, I rocked on that ball like there was no tomorrow, and my vocalizations turned incredibly guttural. I started feeling a lot of pressure in my lower back, but I didn’t recognize it as the “urge” people talk about, so I just kept rocking and rolling and yelling as loud as I wanted to. In my head, every now and then, I felt damn powerful.

Carol suggested I try lunging on a chair through three contractions to see if that helped Pax turn so my back could get a break. The idea sounded awful, but I agreed. She brought me a chair, I propped up my leg, took a wide stance, and did some serious lunging during the next surge. Honestly, it did actually feel pretty good. After one contraction, though, I told her I needed to go to the bathroom. I felt pressure and assumed I needed to pee. She and Jeff helped me into the bathroom with that god-awful IV pole. Once I sat down though, I realized I didn’t need to go. I just sat on the toilet, and it felt so much better. I rocked on it like it was my ball, back and forth, hard and loud, during two contractions.

Carol asked if she wanted me to have a check while I sat there. I did. I had to know. If I was at a 6, I would going to throw in the towel for the night and I knew it. This was around 8:30.

She let me work through a contraction, and then gave me a check. Again, it was not uncomfortable, especially compared to my contractions. I leaned back and braced myself.

Carol said, very matter of factly, “Yep you are at about 9.5 cm. Just a little lip of cervix left. So feel free to push a little.” And then she smiled. “

My exact response to her was, “Are you fucking kidding me? Are you serious?” She just smiled and said, “Good job, mama.”

Delivery

I had gone from 4cm to 9.5cm between 5 pm and 8:30 pm. I couldn’t believe that I had progressed that much in 3.5 hours, but looking back, I see that all the shaking, believing I couldn’t do it, whimpering and lots and lots of groaning was part of transition, and I had made it through.

I just sat there in shock and told my mom she better tell my sister and Dad it was time to come down! Jeff was elated; he couldn’t believe we’d gotten so far so quickly either. I just kind of sat there, feeling reenergized and totally ready to move onto the next stage.

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I got out of the bathroom and onto the birth ball. Bad choice. It was like I was sitting on his head. I rocked through one contraction and then said, “Nope. I am sitting on a giant head. Something else.”

I couldn’t tell what I wanted. Carol suggested I lay on my left side in the bed and pull one leg back and try a few pushes. I was willing to take any suggestions because my brain was totally mushy at this point. I got into the bed, and Carol sat beside me with her knitting and kept an eye on things, but she didn’t rush me at all.

Contractions were completely different now. Pushing was such a relief. I truly felt no pain from the contractions, only the urge to push. I felt like I had huge breaks between contractions, but they were likely just two or three minutes. I felt like I could really rest each time.

But pushing time was focusing time. Carol was impressed that my first few efforts to push, as a first-timer, were pretty darn effective. She joked that she was not going to be able to finish the gift she was making for Pax if this kept up. I didn’t say it, but in my head I thought, “Oh we’re keeping this up, Lady.”

I thought I’d want to push in all sorts of positions, but the side-lying was really working for me. I could FEEL progress, and the thought of moving and going backwards kept me totally focused on staying in that position.

Carol, Jeff, my mom and the nurse were incredibly encouraging. During pushing, they let me lead, didn’t scream in my face, just kept saying, “Good. Excellent. Such a good job.” And when it was time to rest, everyone was quiet unless I asked a question, which I did, things like, “I had a dream last night I gave birth and he was ugly. Is he going to be ugly?” and “I don’t want him to be bald. Make sure he’s not bald.” I was definitely amped up.

Around 9:30, Carol decided that on my next push she would break my water, which had held out ‘til the bitter end! As soon as she did, I demanded to know if he had hair, which he did. The fluid was clear so no one rushed me along, but I could see Carol getting ready so I knew it was closer than ever.

I could absolutely tell when he was crowning. Carol invited me to touch him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was so focused I didn’t want any distractions. Carol really talked me through pushing at this stage, helping me slow down or keep going based on how things were looking down there. She used hot mineral oil and warm compresses which felt wonderful.

Carol helped hold his head in place while we waited for the next contraction, which was challenging for me, and I kept saying in my head, “It’s okay. Too fast and you’ll regret it later. Let it be okay now. It’s okay for now. Think about later.”

When the next contraction came, I told myself, “This is it. Do it this time.” And so I did. His head popped out and immediately he cried. I was in total shock. Carol encouraged me to do one more to get him all the way out on this contraction, and out came his shoulder. I kept saying, “Oh my god, oh my god.” Carol told me, “reach down and pull him out. Come grab him.” But I couldn’t find my own arms. Finally Jeff helped me and we both put our hands around him and pulled him up onto my chest.

It was 9:59 pm. I pushed for just about an hour. He was here. And I did it.

Meeting Pax

The first thought I had was, “He is so warm.” Since he was overdue, there was hardly any vernix or blood on him. He was just warm and slimy and clean. Then I thought, “Oh my god, he is gigantic.” He felt so heavy on my chest. I couldn’t believe how sturdy he felt, especially since I had just pushed that incredibly sturdy thing out of me.

I checked out his hair, which was dark and swirly. I kissed his wet face. I couldn’t really tell who was cleaning him, but I know someone gently wiped him down for me, and at some point there was some cord untangling. Apparently he had it around his head, neck, torso and foot, but there was no emergency. He was pink except for his hands and feet which were gray, but other than that he was wide awake, squeaking and wiggling around. In no time he was clean and Jeff had helped me sit up and pull down the front of my gown so he could lay right on me. A nurse brought us a warm blanket.

I wish I could say that I blissed out and had no idea what else was happening in the world, but that wasn’t true. My legs were shaking uncontrollably, and it was very distracting, Carol assured me that it was normal and she helped rubbed them while she took her time waiting for the placenta. She told me I could give one little push since it was right there, and I thought, “Really? I have to push again.” But it was nothing. No contracting. Just plop, all done, and every part of Pax was no longer part of me.

While Pax rooted around at my chest, people milled around the room. Jeff and I were just sitting with Pax, looking at his big cheeks and perfect mouth and soft nose. I touched his head over and over and over, surprised that it wasn’t a huge cone after pushing for an hour. His hands and feet looked huge to me, and I was so curious to hear how much he weighed, but I didn’t want to let him go yet, especially since he was distracting me from Carol, who was checking out the damage, so to speak. I had a very minor tear and she debated whether or not to even bother with stitches, but decided to go ahead since I was pretty distracted and willing to let her do whatever she needed to do.

When Carol was finished with me, Mom went to get Dad and my sister from the waiting room. I was totally awake at this point, holding Pax and sitting up and chatting with people. I felt alert and healthy, though understandably a bit tired. My sister and Dad met Pax, and we finally decided to go ahead and let them weigh and measure him. People got all their final bets in after seeing him, and I was sure he was over 9lbs. When they said 7lbs 13oz, I had a hard time believing it. He felt so much heavier, seemed so much bigger to me. But there it was: just under 8lbs and almost 21 inches long. A perfectly average baby, though the nurse did admit that his head was a few centimeters larger than average. That didn’t surprise me at all.

The next hour or so was a blur of me pulling my brain back together and people getting their turn to meet Pax. He had a few good cries when he was hungry, and when we finally worked out a decent latch, he held on for a good hour on each side. Everyone eventually left, and Jeff took him so I could rest and shower. People came in and out throughout the night for baths and checking in. I had given up on a sense of time long before, so I didn’t mind the strange schedule.

Reflections

My biggest fear was being induced with Pitocin. My vision of my birth was always that I would go into labor naturally, labor at home for as long as possible, tolerate a difficult car ride to the Birth Center, and then labor intervention free until he arrived. I was not against an epidural; it simply wasn’t part of my birth plan, but I was open to my birth plan needing adjustments depending on how I was doing.

Mentally adjusting to the new plan, in a relatively short amount of time, was incredibly difficult for me. I went from honestly believing that I might have my baby on Friday to trying to process that my baby would be here in hours under conditions I hadn’t prepared for. I was absolutely terrified, but I felt like this was my first official challenge as a mom: letting go out my original vision for the birth and accepting a new one for the sake of my son.

And I didn’t let go of my entire vision. Jeff reminded me that the only changes I was consenting to was a Pitocin induction and constant monitoring. Everything else could stay the same, or it could change if I wanted it to. That thought comforted me.

Before the induction began, I found myself struggling to remember why I wanted a natural birth. It was so easy to envision a birth that wasn’t imminent, but suddenly knowing what was around the corner changed a lot. But it was important to me to trust that I did know what I wanted, and that included low-interventions for both Pax and me.

True labor was the most intense experience of my life. I had thoughts that ranged from, “This is absolutely impossible” to “Holy crap, look at me go. I am laboring through Pitocin-induced back labor. I am doing it.” I remember saying to myself, “You are not dying. You are doing exactly what you are supposed to. Your body will never try to kill you.” Other times, I remember saying, “I’m so tired. I’m so tired. I’m so tired.”

Going through my labor made me realize how important it is for all laboring women to feel empowered during their own labor, no matter how they need to make that happen. For some women, controlling pain with medication is how they feel in control. For others, like me, remaining the sole gatekeeper of pain was how I felt in control. Medication, whether Pitocin, at one end of the spectrum, or an epidural, at the other, made me feel less in control. And since Pitocin was already invited to the party, I remained even more committed to keeping other guests out of the festivities.

Sitting here now, not 24 hours later, I still am in awe of what happened last night, and not just that we now have our son. I can’t believe what I just did, and how I did it. I’ve always had a contentious relationship with my body, and felt at war with it many times. I worried that, if I did have an epidural, I would feel even more disappointed in my physical abilities, and that would have been difficult for me.

But my body did what it needed to do. As soon as contractions were strong enough, the Pitocin wasn’t needed. Every contraction was efficient and did its job. When it was time to push, Pax turned to face the right way. Pushing was fast enough that I wasn’t exhausted, and slow enough that I didn’t harm myself unnecessarily. I’ve never felt more proud or connected to my body than I do.

It wasn’t my vision, but it was what it was. Honestly, I think I may even be prouder now, knowing I survived an induction without pain medication, than I would have been if it had gone according to my original plan.