Solveig’s Birth Story

I know some people love to read birth stories, and others feel it’s something very private.  If you are the latter, this post is not for you.  I personally love to read stories of how women give birth.  I’ve heard one woman say that giving birth is such a huge life changing event that many women need to tell their stories as a means of mentally processing that life change.  I can completely relate to that.

I’m not sure when to say labor started.  As most of the readers know, I was in the hospital twice before the birth, thinking I was in labor.  Well, not totally true.  The first time, I was in intense pain, but it wasn’t coming in waves like normal contractions, and I was more worried that something was wrong.  However, the monitors were picking up contractions, so we all assumed that I was in labor.  In hindsight, I was probably overworked (the day before I mopped the kitchen floor on my hands and knees…and completely felt the foolishness of that later) and dehydrated.

The second time, I timed contractions, and headed in.  However, when I got there, the contractions stopped, and the intense constant pain started.  I should have recognized it as dehydration to begin with, since I had a similar experience with Silje.  As soon as I got an i.v. everything returned to normal, and I returned home.  In tears that time.  (In my defense, I wasn’t even thirsty.  I normally drink tons when I’m pregnant, but keeping those fluids up in the third trimester requires that I slosh around all the time.  If I’m I’m not sloshing, I’m usually dehydrated.)

Needless to say, knowing when labor started was tricky.  I was having painful contractions every 10 minutes for those weeks.  However, they’d slow when I went to sleep, and I could sleep through them.  They felt exactly like labor contractions, and they were regular during the day.  I normally have fast labors, so Knut and I were worried that when I did go into labor, it would happen too fast.

The morning of the 11th, I woke up at 4am with a contraction.  Contractions normally don’t wake me up, so I took notice.  10 minutes later, I had another one.  After the third one, I got out of bed to see if I could do something different to make them go away.  First I went into the tub, which usually scares away the contractions.  However, this time, it didn’t.  I went downstairs to the basement to watch a movie (I picked “White Christmas”) while the rest of the house slept.  By 6am, they were much stronger, and still 10 minutes apart.  I remember swaying through a contraction in front of the warm corn stove in the basement, and thinking to Solveig “I’m going to meet you today.  Today is the day you’ll be in my arms.”  I was starting to allow myself to get excited again that this was “it.”

Just before 7am, the kids and Knut came downstairs for breakfast, and I told Knut to clear the schedule for the day.  My bet was we’d be at the hospital by 10am.  The only thing we had planned for the day was taking the kids to the library to see Santa.  They’d be disappointed, but what do you do?

Our plan was to go to the hospital when contractions were 2-3 minutes apart.  We normally go in when they are 5 minutes apart because I do deliver fast, but we had done that twice and had come home twice, so we weren’t planning on having that happen again.

So while I labored at home, Knut kept the kids away from me as much as possible.  When it was 9:30, and contractions were still 10 minutes apart, although they were hard and over a minute long, I told Knut to go ahead and take Silje and David to the library.  I couldn’t seem to pass that “10 minute mark” and it was frustrating me.

Knut called from town and asked if he had time to pick up a tree.  There contractions were still not any closer together, so I told him to go ahead and pick one up.  Just when he and the kids got home, I was in the middle of an intense contraction and the kids were pulling on me and asking me for food, etc.  I could not handle it, and actually called Knut on his cell phone in the garage (he was untying the tree) and told him I could not in any way handle the kids and he needed to get inside. He said he’d be right in and I could help him with the tree.

Help him?  As he dragged the tree through the house, I was in another contraction and started crying.  I couldn’t help him put the tree up.  He must have misunderstood.  I needed his help and had no help to give.  It was the first of emotional break downs, but I quickly got over it, and held the tree as he tightened it in the stand inbetween the contractions.  They were still 10 minutes apart, but now at least a hard 2 minutes long.  That gave spurts of 8 minutes to help.

The stupid tree kept tipping over, and I really did not want to deal with it anymore so I left for a different room and left Knut, the tree, and the kids.  He promised to keep them away from me.  I went to lay down, and didn’t get a contraction for another 30 minutes, which made me cry again.  I thought labor was stalling again, and I couldn’t handle this on again-off again feeling.  I had let myself believe once again that the baby was coming that day, and to be disappointed again was more than I could handle.

To my surprise, they started up again.  Every 10 minutes (are you getting tired of me saying “every 10 minutes”?  I was sure sick of it.)  However, they were still 2 minutes long, and it got to the point where I had to seize control of my brain.

I have had epidurals in all of my previous labors, however, not all of them had come in time.  My labor with Elias I was mentally prepared to not be able to get an epidural, and I did end up having time to get one in the end.  I only got to enjoy it for 10 minutes or so, and was kicking myself afterward that I had gotten it.  I could have just avoided the whole uncomfortable procedure and kept my ability to move around during labor, and afterbirth.

So for this one, I was determined to not get any drugs.  Not because I felt I was superwoman, but I had done it before, by accident, and I knew I could do it.  I knew it was in me.  I just had to take control of my brain and not let fear take over.  I was more afraid of losing control than the pain.

So as the contractions got more and more intense, I chanted this determination to myself.  I would not lose control.  I may not be able to control what happened below my neck, but my brain was completely mine.  I counted, I breathed, I did whatever I could to make myself feel like I was in control of my thoughts during this time.  I wasn’t scared, and I didn’t have to yell or moan like previous births.  I felt totally in control.

I even, at times told myself to let the pain come.  If I felt like I was inviting the pain, I felt like I was in control of it.  Inviting the pain to come helped.  I was glad I had read up so much on natural birth, because I learned so many tricks that really helped deal with the intensity of it all.

There were times I asked Knut to come be with me so I could lean on him.  However, by the time he shook a kid from his body to get to me, the contraction was over, and another one was still 10 minutes away and he was gone by the time it got there.  He really had no clue how intense things were getting.

Around 5pm, the contractions finally sped up to every 8 minutes.  They were crazy intense, and I was worried that at this rate, I couldn’t deliver naturally.  If this was going to go on for hours and hours, I just couldn’t do it.  8 minutes apart made me feel like the end was still so far away, and I just didn’t think I could do it.  I told Knut to call his aunt to watch the kids, and we needed to get to the hospital.  I didn’t care about the 2-3 minute apart goal anymore.  The contractions weren’t close, but I needed a coach and didn’t want to do it by myself anymore.  He had just put the supper in the oven for the kids, so he called his aunt, and she and her daughter said they’d head over.  The kids were eating supper by the time we’d arranged for everything to go.

I need to back up, though.  Around 5pm, I hopped back in the tub to help with the pain.  Knut came to check on me, and by then they were 8 minutes apart, and I told him it was time to go.  He was in the middle of getting supper ready, and I told him there was probably enough time to finish that as his aunt and cousin came over. I told him this with such certainty that he didn’t question me, but with contractions only every 8 minutes, I don’t think he was rushing.

While everything was being arranged to leave, I recorded the next contraction only 7 minutes later.  The one after that was only 6 minutes.  Then 5 minutes.  4 minutes.  By the time the contractions were right on top together, slurring into wave after wave crashing on me, I attempted to get out of the tub and dressed to go.  It was tricky.  I thought of calling Knut up to help me, but I knew that would only delay him getting things ready to go, and I wanted no delay at this point.  The few seconds between contractions I’d race to get another item of clothing on.  When I was ready, I waited at the top of the stairs for a the few seconds given to me between waves, and raced down in between them.

Knut helped me into the van, and for the first time that day, we were alone together as I was dealing with the contractions.  I felt I could relax because he was there.  I felt I could make noise because my kids weren’t there and wouldn’t get scared.  Knut was excited, and assured me that he thought with all of the laboring I had done that day, I’d at least be dilated to 5cm, and he was sure they wouldn’t send me home this time.  I was more worried at this point that we’d get to the hospital in time, but I didn’t tell him that.  The roads were icy, and the last thing I needed to worry about at that point was a crazy, scared driver.  All I told him was I’d better be at least at an 8.  He laughed, and held my hand.

As we drove closer to town, I felt the baby descend lower and lower, and I could no longer sit squarely on the seat, but had to lean over to one side, as if the birth canal was open and ready to push, although I felt no urge to push.  When we finally got to town and were about a mile from the hospital, I told Knut calmly that I was pretty sure we’d make it to the hospital, but I wasn’t guaranteeing that we’d make it up to the birthing center.  He smiled, and told me that I was doing great.

When we got to the hospital, Knut parked in the emergency parking, and helped me inside.  The receptionist recognized immediately that things were going fast, as I couldn’t even walk, and Knut helped me into a wheelchair.  I remember staring at it, trying to figure out how I could make my body sit down at this point.  It had no wish to sit down.  Squatting was more like it.  However, I somehow managed to sit, but leaned over to one side as far as I could.  The woman in the emergency room, where you check in, saw my position, and literally ran me upstairs, yelling ahead to a doctor to press the elevator button so it would be there when we arrived.  Knut left me at this point to go park the car, and said he would meet me upstairs.

When the nurse and I arrived in a birthing room, one lone nurse came to help me out of the wheelchair.  The floor was empty, and only one reserve nurse was there in case someone showed up.  I grabbed onto the side of the bed.  I told her I was feeling a lot of pressure and thought the baby was coming soon.  That sent her into motion quickly as soon there were 2 nurses there, and I think one was assigned just to repeatedly page the doctor on call.

When I finally had the gown on and the monitors beeping, the nurse checked me and announced “she’s complete and ready to push” just as Knut entered the room.  Seriously, he looked like he just saw a ghost when she said that.  I’ve never seen that look on his face before.  I had labored by myself for most of the day and he had no idea it was this far along.

At this point my water had not broken, and one nurse told the other that she thought that was the only thing holding the baby in.  I still had no desire to push, and so I just lay there breathing.  They told me to try not to push until the doctor got there, but I had no intention of obeying.  I didn’t feel like I needed to push yet, but I thought it was stupid to wait for the doctor.  For the purpose of avoiding tears, or some medical reason I would, but I figured a nurse could catch if she needed to.

We were all relieved to see Dr. N run in in his sweatshirt and jeans from home.  Knut said the only thing that Dr. N got on completely was shoe covers when my water broke and the urge to push came.  He got his arms into the paper gown when the baby started to crown.

I honestly don’t remember pushing.  In fact, I know I consciously didn’t push.  As silly as this sounds, I just let the baby come out.  I endured her coming out, but I certainly didn’t mentally push her.  She came out in one contraction and I just let it happen.  I don’t mean to sound all calm about it.  I wasn’t at the time.  My eyes were closed and I didn’t open them for a minute or two after she was out.  I’m told her cord was wrapped several times around her legs, binding her up.  Dr. N. held her up in a little ball and said she was a girl.  Knut cut the cord, and they lay her on me right away.  When she was placed on my chest, I finally could get my eyes open, and I saw my little girl.  We had been in the hospital exactly 18 minutes when she was born.

As the afterbirth was delivered, someone gave me a shot of pitocin in my leg to help me contract.  Solveig began to nurse and she had a perfect latch on her first try, which I had never experienced before.  She sucked for almost an hour, and the nurses just let her lay on me and didn’t ask to take her to weigh her or anything until she had stopped.  I was so thankful for that time.  I didn’t get to hold Elias for many hours because of his breathing issues.  It was very healing for me to be able to hold her for so long without any pressure to let her go.  However, as the adrenaline was finally setting in, I was shaking all over.

As they were weighing her and checking her vitals, I kept passing blood clots which worried the nurse.  I couldn’t remember if that was normal or not.  I had been anemic during all of my pregnancies, and knew this could happen, but it hadn’t happened before.  She called the doctor, and he put me on some drug to clamp down the uterus to stop bleeding.  It was a miserable drug.  A “necessary evil” as my midwife friend called it when I talked to her by phone the next day. (She had recently given a mother that same drug, and knew how uncomfortable it could make someone.)   It messed with my body temperature and that whole evening, I went from sweating through my gown to uncontrollable chills.  However, it did what it was supposed to do and stopped the bleeding.  However, my hemoglobin was so low that my doctor offered me a blood transfusion, which I turned down since he didn’t insist and the whole idea freaked me out.  He said if I didn’t take it, I would just have a longer recovery, and be on lots of iron.  He said it would be about a month before I was at full strength again.

Knut and I were both comfortable with the decision to avoid the transfusion and just have me “take it easy” longer.  They kept me an extra night in the hospital so I could rest.  Normally Knut was racing me out of the hospital (he hates hospitals), but with his Grandpa failing in that same hospital on a different floor, he felt that home would be too stressful for me and quickly agreed to me staying longer.  After about a week at home, we noticed my color returning well.

Solveig Joy was 7 lbs, 5 oz.  In the first 2 weeks she had exactly 2 diapers that weren’t poopy, and was the only one of my kids who never ever looked jaundice-y.  She is a champion nurser, and is putting on weight quickly.  I’m so happy that I decided to go natural this time around, and found this to actually be my easiest labor.  Each woman, each baby, each labor is so different, and this one is a big example of that!  I was just surprised that having a drug free labor was less painful than any epidural labor I had in the past.  It was truly all a state of mind and controlling the fear factor.  For me, this was definitely the way to go!