We take a break from the regular broadcast for...

Autumn's Birth story!

The story will be delivered over the next few days in 4 installments.

Day 1: Introduction and Part 1 - Expectations
Day 2: Part 2 - Labor and Delivery
Day 3: Part 3 - Recovery
Day 4: Part 4 - Looking Back

Enjoy!

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Introduction

My birth story isn’t the typical, “I went into labor at 6 am, started pushing at 10 pm, baby arrived at 11 pm, and everything went according to plan.” It’s a story of egotistical expectations, intense pain and emotion, difficult disappointments, horrible recovery, and a (somewhat) spiritual retrospection. I am not writing this story so that I can remember all the “bad” parts of labor, but so that I can share how I learned from my experience and came to peace with what occurred. I hopefully will not frighten any soon-to-be mothers, since my story is personal and unique. And before you start reading, I want you to know two very important things: 1. I am not angry or disappointed about my labor or recovery and 2. The outcome of this story is that I have a beautiful and healthy daughter that came into this world in her own spectacular way and I wouldn’t change anything about it.

I hope that this story turns out to be one of hope and success, instead of fear and resentment.

Part 1 – My expectations

In preparation for the birth of Autumn, Dan and I took a month long Childbirth class, a breastfeeding class, and a newborn care class. It was my intention from the beginning of pregnancy to have a birth experience free of medication and intervention. I have always been horrified of the epidural needle and the thought of having a caesarian section scared me half to death. More than the fear of needles and surgery, however, was an underlying sense that I could accomplish giving birth without medicine because women have been doing it that way forever. “Natural” childbirth seemed manageable and I wanted that sense of empowerment that came with being able to overcome pain and pushing our child out on my own.  The childbirth class instilled a sense of righteousness in me; something similar to, “I am woman, hear me roar.”

I was so caught up in believing I would have a natural labor that I looked down on people who had birth stories that included an epidural. Actually, as soon as I saw the word “epidural” I would scoff and quit reading. I wouldn’t listen to people who told me that labor is so painful that I would be begging for some sort of pain relief. I thought anyone who had medicine was weak and, honestly, annoying. It seemed like everyone I knew took the “easy” road. But who was I to judge what the “easy” road was for each person, especially since I’d never gone through it before.

When I wrote out my birth plan I made sure to write in there that I wanted to have a med-free birth and I did not want to be offered any kind of pain management whatsoever. I made sure both of my labor partners – Dan and Meredith (my sister-in-law) – knew that I did not want the epidural and if I, in moments of weakness, asked for it, they would be sure to talk me out of it – as harshly as need be.

I thought my labor would last for a maximum of 24 hours, starting out slowly and building up with regularity to a decent intensity, but never being more than I could handle. I imagined being at home for most of the laboring process and arriving at the hospital having only a couple hours left to go before the baby arrived. I didn’t think my water would break until I was in the pushing stage or unless I wasn’t progressing and the midwife decided to break it to help speed up the process. I thought I would have to push for a maximum of an hour – because I’d be such an awesome pusher! – and then the baby would come out without complications. Maybe I would have a first degree tear, but nothing too severe and I probably wouldn’t need stitches. When the baby was crowning, I was going to touch her head and when she came out she was going to be placed immediately on my chest. We would start breastfeeding within the hour and she would be good at it. And after the birth, when we were sent to postpartum care, our new baby would never leave my side. I wouldn’t be tempted to send her to the nursery for a few hours to recover – because I just wouldn’t need it. Remember, “I am woman, hear me roar!”

Needless to say, I had this “perfect” labor planned out in my mind.

Absolutely none of it came true.