I had an appointment scheduled with my midwife at 3:15 at the office across the street from the hospital. We had discussed it already on Friday, and she had planned to induce me with Cervidil if I didn't go into labor on my own. When we showed up that Monday, we found out I was four centimeters dilated, so it was past the point for Cervidil. We were afraid she was going to send us back home, which we absolutely did not want, since it is fifty minutes each way. What if we started going home and labor took off? I didn't want to be stuck in the car and rush hour traffic during labor.
Looking back, I remember walking in the office as a contraction was upon me, so I was hunched over with my hand on my abdomen. The secretary took one look at me, said to another secretary, "It looks like she might not be induced after all." However, at that time, my contractions were still irregular and while painful, still very much tolerable. My midwife clearly didn't think I was in active labor. She thought for several moments and decided on a plan. She'd send us to the hospital. She told us to stop for a bite to eat, then head to the hospital and simply relax in the hospital room for the night. If labor came, then great. If not, she'd give me Pitocin in the morning. Brian and I were relieved to not have to turn back home. Before leaving, she put some homeopathic concoction in my water, and told me to take two sips every half hour. It was supposed to help bring on labor.
Brian and I headed out, and since there was a lot of traffic and we were too nervous to simply go out and enjoy ourselves, we got a couple of slices of pizza to go and and ate them in the hospital parking lot. Then we proceeded to get ourselves checked in.
I was gowned up, and my midwife came over after her shift to check on me. She still didn't think anything would happen. I was told to relax and hang out.
It seemed the moment all this was done, things started to really happen. I didn't even have time to unpack my suitcase a bit and get settled. Brian began timing my contractions, and all of the sudden, they were coming four minutes apart. I was texting my sister in between, and she was excited for me, believing this was it, finally. I told her my midwife didn't think anything would happen that night, and my sister texted me back and said, "She don't know nothin'. You're going to have that baby tonight!" (She meant no disrespect to my midwife; she was only trying to encourage me.) My sister urged me to get up after they got the monitors off of me, and get moving so the baby would drop.
Then, everything seemed to be moving from there. The nurse came in and saw the state I was in, and Brian told her my contractions were four minutes apart. When we first arrived, we were pretty much told we'd be left alone for the night, but no more. My midwife was alerted and she came back, and she said she wouldn't be going home after all. The nurse showed me some helpful positions for laboring, and Brian and I got to work. (There was a nice slow dance position where I had my arms wrapped around Brian's neck and he held me at the waist, and when the contraction came, I bent at the knees in order to bring the baby down. It would have been romantic if no pain was involved!)
The contractions started to be serious at 4:40, when Brian started timing them. Needless to say, the pain intensified. I was really trying hard not to cry out for any drugs or an epidural, and I can honestly say that I was not even tempted this time around. I knew I just had to get through this no matter how hard it was. I did a lot of moaning, whereas with Caleb I did a lot of yelling. One of the nurses actually complimented me on my moaning, saying that was much better than yelling, because yelling would take more of my energy. (I did yell towards the end, when I couldn't stand it any more, but my yells were all prayers toward God for His help and strength.) Brian was encouraging me the entire time, being so supportive and positive in my weak moments.
I was fortunate enough to be given the room with the tub, because I had wanted to labor in the tub in hopes that would ease some of my pain. I was told by the nurse to save it for the end if I could hold off that long, because that would be my best weapon, and it was better to keep it in my arsenal as long as I could. I went in when I was about eight centimeters or so. It did help immensely, but let's be honest, nothing can shield a laboring woman from the pain at this point. I found that being on all fours when a contraction hit was best for me, and Brian found that pointing the water sprayer on my back helped me also.
The nurses were asking me to let them know when I felt the need to push. Almost as soon as they said it, I felt it. My midwife had thought I wanted to birth in the tub, which plenty of women do. But honestly, I had only wanted to labor in the tub. I felt like I could better push out of the water. In the water, I felt like I had less control over myself due to floating and whatnot, so the nurses proceeded to get me out of the tub and get me on the bed. Everyone got into position. Brian was on my right side, holding my right leg, and a nurse was on the other. Pushing began. It hurt so much; I truly didn't think I could handle it. I said so. "I can't do this!" I shouted, over and over again. I really felt as though I'd be stuck there forever, with a baby wedged in my body, not able to get out because I couldn't push him. My midwife stopped and came close to me, "Courtney, look at me," she said. "You CAN do this."
There is no work like labor. Perhaps I should say there is no labor like labor. It is the hardest work a woman ever does. It requires so much strength and concentration. I pushed and pushed and I'm sure I used muscles that weren't necessary at all, because I simply threw myself into it fully. Finally, finally, my baby came forth. He slipped from my body at 8:29 p.m., and the worst was over.
In moments, he was placed on my stomach. He was awake, but not looking at me because he was on his belly. I looked at him, though, and my heart filled with love for my second son.
He was taken to be weighed and measured, which was fine, because my midwife had to repair the damage done to my body, which was also very painful. Goodness, nature is not kind to women giving birth! Even afterwards, there are pains to be dealt with.
After our Silas was taken care of, and after my midwife was finished with me, I got to hold him again and soak in the wonder and joy of having another child. No matter how exhausted, nothing can spoil the joy of that moment.
This photo was taken earlier in the day, before we left for the hospital.
And now, here we are as a family of four. Our cup runneth over.
