My birth story
By: Eden Wen
Tags: Motherhood, Birth, Baby

My birth story

Our room for 72 hours

I never thought that labor and delivery would be something I would write about. Don’t you just go into the hospital and then come out with a baby? And yada yada yada. But this was so special and, upon further reflection, spiritual too.

Greg and I woke Monday morning and finished the last bit of what we needed to pack in order to make it to the hospital at 6:45 AM. After getting there, we checked in and then we met our first nurse and intern. They were tasked with putting the IV in me, and ouch. My beluga whale skin and tiny, rolly veins did not make it easy. They poked me once in my right wrist (which didn’t even bleed when they took it out), second in my left hand, and then finally another area in my right wrist. They had to call in two extra nurses to help me out, the one who finally was successful used to be an ER nurse. It stung pretty much the whole day and I hated looking at it.

I got really clammy.

It was around this point when they informed me that I was high risk for hemorrhaging, which was news to me. I knew Maternal Fetal Medicine wanted to induce me because they wanted my blood type, with my specific antigen, on hand “just in case”, but they never mentioned “high risk” at all. The big hemorrhage box stay parked in our room the rest of the day, and at some point, they said they would need to stick me with another IV. I wasn’t too concerned, though, because MFM is a highly conservative group of doctors and I probably was a lot lower risk than everyone said.

Greg and I just hung out all day. It was non-eventful, the intern only coming in to increase my Pitocin two notches every 30 minutes or so, adjust my monitors whenever they slipped, and take my vitals.

Not sure if they knew, but all the photos in this room had Asian models

We napped, watched the first episode of 2020’s Great British Baking Show, played Sudoku, listened to The Dark Tower, all while I bounced on a birth ball or used the peanut ball to get baby’s head in an optimal position.

I was finally at the 19th notch (whiff? dose? out of 20) of Pitocin probably around late afternoon, but I had only progressed from a 2.5 that morning to a 3.5, maybe. My midwife Renee was at another hospital at that point and recommended they break my water. Having heard about contractions getting more intense after breaking water, I consulted with my (virtual) doula Lindsay and then asked to have the Pitocin turned down before breaking water. But because I hadn’t progressed, my midwife declined.

When she arrived, she checked my dilation again and my cervix had not budged. She broke my water right there and the suddenness of it all felt almost violating—I think I expected a countdown or something before it actually happened. A flood of water came gushing out and kept on coming out and it was unexpectedly warm. Like, I wouldn’t last in a bath that warm, warm. I needed to pee, but because fluid kept coming out with any movement I made, I ended up just peeing in bed. It was wet anyway.

At that point, our first nurse’s and intern’s shift ended and our new nurse and intern came in. I didn’t realize the shifts were ending and so I was a little bummed that the people I spent the day with weren’t going to be with me through the end.

It was around this point that woof, the contractions were starting to kick in. Ok, ok, ok, I thought, this is what people were talking about when they said “pressure”.

Except, pretty soon, the contractions were insane. Like a thousand charley horses galloping and bouncing off my uterine wall. I started counting to 10 over and over again like in Kimmy Schmidt— “A person can stand just about anything for 10 seconds.” Then, I couldn’t even count anymore and had to have Greg count for me. I heaved heavy sobs as I leaned over on the bed while still on the birth ball. The nurse and intern had to come in several times to readjust my monitors and I tried to do some birth breathing, which later my nurse said confused her because they had just broken my water and I couldn’t have been that close to delivery.

“I feel like she’s right there,” I said to Greg, feeling pressure on my cervix between the contractions. The nurse told me they would come check my dilation at 7. It was 6:30.

I cried and decided to call it quits.

I planned to go unmedicated, but the pain right then was too much. I asked Greg to talk to our doula about fentanyl and getting an epidural because of my sister-in-law’s recommendation.

We asked the nurse, and she told us the anesthesiology team had already left for the day, and it would take them half an hour to come back and another 20 minutes or so before the epidural kicked in. As for the fentanyl, both she and my doula agreed that we needed to check dilation because fentanyl can do things to a baby if it’s too close to birth. The nurse and Greg helped me onto the bed when another contraction was ramping up and I was flat-as-a-board stiffened with pain while the nurse checked me. Greg said she looked shocked.

“Either she’s at a 10 or I can’t find the cervix,” she said in her walkie talkie. The charge nurse came in to confirm that yes, I was ready, and my midwife was just 15 minutes away. The delivery team assembled immediately.

The only lights that were on in the room were the ones right above my face. The nurse leaned in, face inches from mine, and started tenderly talking to me, stroking my head. I don’t remember exactly what she said to me—something along the lines of “You did so good getting here” and “We’re almost at the end”—but whatever she said, it felt sacred, like she was giving me a blessing, and i began to feel an immense love build up within me. I was ready to meet my baby, and I sobbed with relief. It was finally happening. Greg said later both he and she were tearing up.

It felt like a movie set, my midwife at the center of it all with the spotlight coming from behind her, Greg to my left, and my nurse and intern to my right. That’s when the hypnobirthing/upright birthing stuff went straight out the door. The contractions kicked my butt so bad, I was so tired and I did everything the first class of hypnobirthing taught me not to do — delivered on my back, held my breath, and pushed. Even now, I can’t imagine doing it standing up or squatting or whatever. In the moment, it felt like the most natural thing to do…and hey, isn’t that what hypnobirthing is all about?

Side note: something that surprised me was that where you push is literally the same as the poop muscles hence, inevitably, the hemorrhoids. I think I said this out loud at some point. “It’s the poop muscle.”

I had my eyes closed and could only hear the voices of those nearest to me. My midwife was at the foot of my bed, encouraging me and describing the progress I was making. I can’t help but feel as if she and the nurse were proxies for Heavenly Mother, telling me how awesome I was doing at bringing my daughter into the world. To have them there with me and Greg, and to have everyone watching for my contractions on the monitor to help count down, I just felt that same immense love from Her mixed with a conviction to get this baby out.

Close to an hour later, the head was coming out and I heard Greg gasp and say he sees the cute little hairy head of hers. I pushed, and knew the head was out. I had one more in me to push the rest.

At 7:57 PM, I hear, “Open your eyes!” And there she was — perfect baby. All I could say was, “This is crazy! This is crazy! Wow!”

She was holding her breath the first minute and was pretty blue. The respiratory doctor was there so they took her, and Greg went over and hung out with her as my midwife stitched me up (second degree tear, babyyyy).

Me and my two babes

In the end, I had the unmedicated birth I was hoping for, and so much more. Truly, the most painful part were the contractions, and who knows if maybe I could have handled them better if they progressed more naturally/slowly rather than all at once.

The rest of the night was a blur (first bathroom trip, lightheadedness, breastfeeding (blah)), but here we are now, less than two weeks old, so in love, and still crying over the beauty of it all.