David's Birth Story

My blog is basically dead, but I love birth stories, and I just had my second baby, so here it is!

The story begins the week of December 19, which was my due date. I had been feeling pretty normal-miserable, like I remember feeling with Nancy at about 35-37 weeks. Things were hard but not unbearable. I was still getting some sleep at night, though I was getting heavier and heavier and could tell that David was putting on some weight. At my 36 appointment, I was measuring about 33-34 cm. I was measuring the same at 37 weeks, and the midwife suggested I think about getting an ultrasound. I was enjoying feeling kind of small though, and because David was moving around all the time and his heartbeat was fine, I didn’t want to spend $160 just to be told that everything was okay. I knew my body, and my body was doing just fine. I was confident that David was just an easier pregnancy than Nancy, and a slower one too. He was taking longer to “cook,” and that was just fine with me (well, at that point anyway). Then we sort of jumped to the 39-week appointment, and by then I really did feel like I put on some weight (4 pounds after only gaining 1 pound the last time). With the weight, everything got even harder. I was SO tired out so early in the day even if I did barely anything with Nancy. Matthew was home by this point—he had graduated, hooray!—but still hadn’t really adjusted to spending all day home, or spending all of his free time taking care of Nancy, so it was kind of hard on him and we had some meltdowns over it where he felt like a single parent, I felt like I was doing my best and was super frustrated with myself that I couldn’t do more with Nancy just because it was so, so hard.
December 19 came and I shocked everybody at work when they’d ask when I was due and I’d say, “Today!” Everybody kept saying I was too small and didn’t look like I was about to have a baby and yada yada. At first it was nice but eventually it made me feel desperate, like the baby would never come and I really was going to be pregnant forever and maybe he wasn’t growing enough and why wasn’t this pregnancy exactly the same as my first one, etc. It was really hard to reach 40 weeks and nothing. I knew I wouldn't have to wait much longer, and two weeks isn’t THAT long, but I was ready to be done at 39 weeks and hadn’t mentally prepared myself to go even past 40, let alone to 42. So, nothing happened on December 19. I really felt discouraged and started to worry about being induced and having an unnatural, overlong, painful labor that would end at the hospital. A different midwife saw me at my appointment and she basically insisted that I have an ultrasound the next day. I tried to push it off but she basically gave me no choice. I still felt like it was unnecessary, and honestly I still do, but I understand why they pushed it—they wanted to have as much information as possible and to know if there were any severe problems. I didn’t feel close to labor but I didn’t feel bad, either. I mostly felt like I felt with Nancy at about 36-37 weeks, which was also discouraging because that likely meant two more weeks of misery.
I tried to work as much as possible over the next few days because my job was one thing I could do without feeling totally exhausted (though walking across the parking lot and through the library was getting very, very tiring). On Friday, Dec 22, my sister-in-law watched Nancy while Matthew and I went to get the dreaded ultrasound. It took forever to get to West Jordan because there were at least three car wrecks on the freeway, even though there wasn’t even any snow!

The ultrasound was pretty much exactly what I expected. Baby’s movement and growth and everything looked fine. My fluid levels were normal. I was just small and the tech predicted Baby would be here within 1-3 weeks. (Super helpful! Not!) He didn’t really give me a new due date but confirmed that the due date from my 20-week ultrasound (December 25) was more accurate than this one. Ugh. Also we forgot to bring a flashdrive so our only pictures of the ultrasound were on our phones. The tech kept laughing at David’s big pouty lips on screen and saying that we could lick them and stick him to the wall. It was fun to see him and reassuring that everything was fine, but I was annoyed at the bother and cost when I knew everything was fine to begin with.

I finally began to mentally accept that this would probably be a January baby and I would just have to suck it up and get through Christmas. We had a nice Saturday—Unc and Daniel and Matthew and Nancy and I went to the All-Together Playground in the morning. I thought I was walking around pretty well but Unc thought I was barely keeping up and marveled at how attached Nancy was to Matthew. It has been hard for me to be apart from her for so long—she has bonded with Matthew more than me and wants him always, and I miss her. Lately she has began cuddling more with me though, and I put her down for her nap today for the first time in FOREVER it seems, so we’re working on it. I couldn’t believe how big she was when I changed her diaper though. GOOD LORD. She is huge. She also weighs 26 pounds apparently. Yikes. The playground was fun, but Unc and I were tired and ready for lunch pretty soon. I showed them the library and my office and then we went home. That evening after Nancy’s lap, my sister-in-law took her and Matthew and I went to see Star Wars: The Last Jedi. I had a few contractions during the movie but didn’t think anything of it. I left to pee during the Rose/Finn scenes... loved the Luke/Rey/Kylo stuff.

After the movie, we got Nancy and went home and ate and got ready for bed and I was still having contractions now and then, but around midnight I was thinking, hmmm, these seem to be coming somewhat regularly. So Matthew downloaded an app on his phone to time them and I ended up using that app ALL NIGHT LONG. Yep, the contractions came roughly every 20-30 minutes from midnight to 8 am the next morning and I did not get a wink of sleep. Matthew woke up around 5 or 6 or something and I told him I was pretty sure I was in labor, especially since I’d started pooping at 2 am and then having diarrhea/pooping the rest of the morning. Exactly like I had with Nancy. The system was clearing out! He was worried because he was supposed to lead choir and sing two solos, and I didn’t want to be alone in the house with Nancy. We called my mom and told her I was in early labor and we’d need her to take Nancy, and then I asked if Sarah could come over and stay with me while Matthew was gone. She did and it was probably the sweetest time of the whole ordeal.

Sarah was very excited for baby and reassured me that this was exciting news and I was probably right that this was the real thing (my greatest worry that it wasn’t, that it would all go away, or that it would take much longer than I hoped, maybe even all day) and that it would progress quickly. She even told me that Grandmama was here in our house—she felt her presence. That made me cry because during the middle of the sleepless night I got a little scared thinking about labor again and wanted to pray but couldn’t bring myself to pray to a male figure or father of any kind, so I simply prayed to “Mother” and I really felt like someone or something was there, a “Mother” of some sort. Sarah also said that Grandmama was watching over Nancy right now too, which we guessed explained why Nancy slept in for so long.
I can’t remember a lot of the rest of the morning, except that Matt had my phone and I had his (because his was timing the contractions) and I got texts asking if Matt needed to go home and to just go and leave the choir. Ha ha. Matt had apparently announced it at practice or something.

Matthew got home, skipping the last song, and my contractions were about 5-10 min. apart and getting a little more intense. I did not like being touched during them, which was unusual and different, and I couldn’t find a comfortable position. I just squeezed Matthew or Sarah’s hand and tried to breathe through them and not clench up or tighten my muscles or fight the sensation, which did seem to help a little. Labor felt low down and dull, like I remember it being with Nancy, but much more in my butt than I remember. Once the contractions had been coming at 5 min. intervals (or thereabouts—5 to 7 min) for close to an hour, I decided that was close enough and we needed to go to the birth center. It was somewhere between 11 and noon. Matthew had quite an ordeal trying to get a midwife to answer the hotline. He called, left voicemails, left texts, and eventually got a student at the birth center who called the midwife, who was in Salt Lake, but said she would hurry back and meet us there in about half an hour. The contractions were getting harder and I was getting a little nervous about being at home and having to possibly labor in the car without any help, so I got Matthew to call again and tell the midwife we were going to go to the birth center and wait for her there. The car drive was uneventful. I had one contraction about a minute after we arrived at the birth center, and then suddenly everything stopped, like David had sensed we were in a strange new environment and he wasn’t sure about coming here. I was discouraged again, and bored on top of that, and impatient, and ended up just lying down on the bed and trying to rest for about 20 minutes. 20 minutes of nothing, not one single contraction, not even a weak one. I was pretty upset and was going to have us leave and go home for a few more hours, but THEN I had a very intense, two-minute long contraction that would have made me make Matthew turn us around and come right back because I was suddenly sure that we were going to have this baby soon.
After that, the contractions returned, and we stopped timing them, just waiting for them and trying to endure. A doula and the midwife arrived and checked me (it’s always so uncomfortable but knowing how much I’m dilated is a huge mental boost) and said I was at a 6, which was pretty encouraging. Over halfway there! The doula’s massaging was pretty ineffective—her hands were cold—but I liked having her there anyway and she found a position for me that really seemed comfortable and helpful. I was on the bed on my knees leaning forward onto the exercise ball, holding her hands while Matthew rubbed my lower back. The contractions were intense and I was sweating or shaking through them so I felt like I was making a lot of progress, but after what seemed like a good long while, the midwife checked me again and I was only at a 6.5. A freaking 6.5. I was so annoyed.

By the way, I wasn’t sure why but I didn’t feel like laboring in the tub this time around. The tub just seemed too small and I didn’t feel like getting wet or going through the same experience as I had with Nancy. I liked the bed and the ball best.

After checking me, the midwife said I had a cervical lip. Not a surprise since I’d had one with Nancy too. Anyway, the best way to get Baby past it so the contractions would actually push Baby against the opening of the cervix was to have her hand up in me while I was having contractions. Supremely uncomfortable, but it worked. I sat on the super uncomfortable birth stool and Matthew and the doula held up my sides and my knees and I squeezed them like they were my lifelines because they seriously were. The midwife was very calm and seemed to know what she was doing, but I hated the way she didn’t communicate with me. She just acted like of course I should know what was going on and kept making comments about how I needed to lean further back or was pressing too hard against her shoulder or something—yeah, sorry, I know your comfort should obviously be the first thing on my mind here. And I was more than a bit angry at her when she told me to try pushing a little with the next contraction and I was like, no way! I’m not pushing. I’m at a 6.5! I’ll tear! And she said, no you won’t. You’re almost at a 10. I mean, my mouth dropped open. A FREAKING TEN?!?!? HOW LONG WERE YOU PLANNING TO SIT ON THAT? So yeah, I was flabbergasted—I’m almost at a ten? I asked, Can you feel the baby’s head? And she said yes she could. And I just kept repeating it—you can feel the baby’s head? You can feel the baby’s head? YOU CAN FEEL THE BABY'S HEAD? I couldn’t believe it. We were SO CLOSE to meeting our baby! It gave me a huge mental wave of strength at a time when I really could use it because the pain was very intense, more than I remembered even with Nancy (not surprising since my brain had to block that stuff out so I would even get pregnant again), and I just could not get comfortable at all once a contraction started. I did NOT like the birthing stool—I wanted to be leaning forward. But the midwife wasn't budging, so somehow I made it work—with the next contraction, I pushed. I hated pushing, by the way. I couldn’t really “feel” the urge or even the pushing itself. I just closed my mouth and held my breath and that sort of made it happen because the air that I wanted to let out in a scream stayed in and forced everything downward. I still did scream a little bit but not nearly like I had with Nancy. It was more a lot of shaky low moaning and whimpering. Still, the midwife told me to try to keep it in and hold my breath so it would all go to the pushing.

Finally, with one of these pushes, she exclaimed, “Ladies! We’re having a baby!” and I felt “stuff” come out and a shift or a drop from inside. So, presumably, Baby was now “past” the cervical lip. I got very excited but the worst part—CROWNING—was just around the corner. Suddenly all the midwife students were there in the room and there were towels everywhere all over the floor and then we were all just waiting and waiting for the next contraction. Oh my god it seemed like such a long wait. Then it came and I pushed because I was excited and I was at a ten *or almost* *who knows?* *maybe the midwife but of course she wasn’t telling* and HOLY HELL IT WAS THE WORST PAIN I’VE EVER FELT. Also, once I pushed it felt like I couldn’t stop. It really felt like I lost any kind of control I had and my body just took over and was like yep, yep, we’re getting rid of this, it doesn’t matter what happens to you. So yeah, I knew right away I was going to tear and I recognized it and I was like to hell with it I can’t do anything anyway. But yeah, it tore and burned and hurt every bit as bad as I remember with Nancy and worse. Strangely, though, I only felt it on one side. It seemed to take David a lot longer to actually come out than Nancy but it was still pretty quick. One thing that was different this time was that I definitely felt like a poop was coming at first, but then once I went with the “okay I’m going to poop” feeling it suddenly became very clear that it was NOT a poop and that’s when the burning and HUGE BABY COMING THROUGH sensation came and then I started screaming/crying because it hurt so much and I actually didn’t stop crying even when David came out at last and I heard his sweet little cry. Mentally I was relieved but physically I was shaken up all over again and traumatized and couldn’t stop crying because it was so INTENSE and painful and harder than I remembered. I had my eyes closed when he came out and kept them closed for a little while just to feel like I was protecting myself. Still, they handed him to me pretty quickly and holding him and sobbing for a while felt pretty good, like I could have done that for quite a while.

Finally, when I could stop thinking swear words and saying “Oh my God,” I turned to Matthew and said something I can’t remember like we have a baby or something stupid. They wrapped him in a towel and got both of us over to the bed and I still hadn’t delivered the placenta and didn’t want to ever be touched down there ever again, but after a few minutes the midwife gave my stomach a little push and “plooop” it came out like a jellyfish, more surprising than painful. I never actually got a good look at the placenta but it seemed smaller than Nancy’s.

7 pounds, 20.5 inches, born at 2:22 pm

It felt like we only got to cuddle for a few minutes before the midwife wanted to sew me up. I swear I was still shaking from the adrenaline. I was a little incredulous—now? Really?—but she was serene, obnoxiously so, and then she had the nerve to tell me I had to not kick her—like I had any control over my shaking legs while she was poking me all over down there. I asked them for laughing gas but she got in a few pokes before they brought it to me. Once they got me that, I calmed down a lot more and was able to relax. I can’t believe she started trying to numb me before they even got me the gas! Fortunately, there was one student there who was absolutely my kind of person. She had tattoos and her hair in cornrows and she was take-charge and assertive and vocal and communicated with me and looked me in the eyes and was like, “Ruth. Go away from here. Find another place you can go and just let it go.” She was everything I needed right then and I was really grateful she was there and wished she had been there sooner/through the whole thing. I’m sure the midwife knew what she was doing and was very experienced, but she just did not communicate enough with me or make me feel comfortable. The student just radiated strength and support and I was immediately comfortable with her.

Once they got me the laughing gas I did a lot better, as I said. I really like that laughing gas. It makes me talkative and a little bit "tipsy" (at one point I teasingly yelled at Matthew, "Take your shirt off!" so he could do skin-to-skin with David), but I still understood and processed everything going on around me. It just felt slower and a bit foggier and funnier. At one point, I said “OW” but didn’t feel the need to move, just to say “Ow.” I only had first-degree tearing, which I counted as a major, MAJOR blessing. I couldn’t remember how bad it was with Nancy, obviously, but after a day or so at home I knew that it had been worse with her because this time around I was able to sit, cross my legs, go to the bathroom, sit on my legs, sit in different positions, and I’ve already even almost stopped bleeding after only just over a week! I haven’t had to use nearly as many frozen pads, witch hazel, or anti-bacterial spray either.

After they finished sewing me up, it was nice to have the worst part over and then get back to snuggling with David and Matthew. David had been chewing on Matthew’s bicep and I wanted to let him latch on me. He actually did a pretty good job! Even though my nipples were like OW, they also remembered what it was like and it was a lot easier for me after having gone through all that crap with Nancy and pumping beforehand. Mainly I just wanted to look at him, of course. We took a lot of pictures and called our families. Last time I had spoken to Sarah she called me in the middle of active labor and I had to hang up on her because a contraction started. She was giving me a Nancy update and I was just like, “Okay, I have to go now, a contraction is starting.” Ha ha. It wasn’t quite as exciting to tell everyone this time because they all already knew that I had been in labor all morning. Still, everyone was excited to have a Christmas Eve baby! 

So there you have it. My second experience with natural childbirth. Worse than my first in some ways (the anticipation and fear going in were stronger because I remembered how bad it was and I couldn't help but compare it to my first, and then be disturbed/taken by surprise when things strayed from the first time) but better in others (I knew what was going on, knew what to expect, and had a much quicker physical/mental/emotional recovery and quicker bonding with Baby). Giving birth naturally is by far the hardest thing I have ever done, but I don't regret it, or being pregnant, even though I hate that last month of the third trimester, because I know how lucky I am to be able to get pregnant, to be healthy enough to carry my babies to term, and to have as few interventions as I've had to have my children. I have never felt such a deep, fierce, passionate love for anything in my life as I have felt for my babies and I can't imagine life without it. I have especially loved how quickly David has taken to nursing and how much of a bonding experience it has been for the two of us. At one point, I was sick but still nursing (wearing a mask and hand sanitizer) and Matthew said, "You're a little jealous of this baby, hon." I asked him what he meant and he said I had an expression that just said, "This is my baby and the world can go to hell." Ha ha. He gets me.

To sum up: David Charles Covington was born at 2:22 pm on Sunday, December 24, 2017, after I'd been in labor about 14 hours (but "active" labor only about 3 hours, and I pushed for just 8 minutes). I thought it somewhat fitting that Nancy had been due March 24, and came on the 18th, and David was due the 19th, and came on the 24th. They are so far opposites in everything. Through Nancy's pregnancy, I got a very distinct impression that she was a "strong" baby, and through David's, I felt impressed that he was going to be a "quiet" baby, though I still associate his quietness with strength and resilience of a different kind. I love them both. After having a baby in 2016 and another in 2017, my goal this year is to NOT get pregnant. I mean, look at this 40-week-pregnant face. 

40 weeks!

A week after giving birth. I lost ten pounds immediately, and another ten-ish the next week. Still have ten-ish to go, but not going to worry about it yet, because nursing makes me crazy hungry!