Well, for those of you interested in hearing how my prodromal labor experience turned out, here is the full story: chock full of any birth story’s twists, turns, surprises and elations…
I awoke on Wednesday morning, May 5th, to the same prodromal labor contractions that I had been experiencing relentlessly for 8 weeks. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I say this for all of you women out there who not only experience prodromal labor but who have been told constantly that what you are experiencing is not “real” labor. I am proud to exclaim that yes, in fact, prodromal labor is real labor.
***As a side note, many women said to me upon hearing of my prodromal labor: “Just you wait…when you’re in REAL labor you’ll know what a contraction feels like…”. What I have to say after experiencing both prodromal labor and hard labor is this: there was no difference whatsoever between the contractions I experienced during prodromal labor and those I experienced during hard labor. The only change was that as my hard labor progressed, my contractions became closer together and more intense. Nothing about the type of contraction or the way it made my uterus and body feel was any different. With that said, I will continue with Gabe’s story…
I was due to meet a friend who had delivered her baby just two weeks before, but because babies are incredibly unpredictable, she had to cancel. Good thing! Because in a matter of hours I would be in hard labor!! I decided, instead, to spend my time that morning and afternoon lazing about on the deck, checking email, taking care of my electronic to-do’s. It had been awhile since I last sat down to actively time contractions, as with prodromal labor they may change from day to day, but the contractions are usually always there in some form, and even intense and close together activity does not necessarily mean that hard labor has begun. This day, however, I was inspired to time mine and just get a peek into what my body had decided to do today. My contractions were six minutes apart on the dot. I felt slightly crampy in the lower part of my abdomen (think menstrual cramps) and there was plenty of tightening going on on the top and middle of my uterus. I think it is important to point out, that while I had been experiencing many early labor symptoms for weeks (Zero constipation…if you know what I mean, cramping, nausea, etc.) I had not yet had any bloody show. I was waiting on the edge of my seat for that (quite literally)!
I timed the contractions for about an hour with a watch, from about 10-11 am, and then for the rest of the day was just mentally timing them. Nothing seemed to change until I went to pick up my 11 year-old stepdaughter, Kate, from school at 2:45 pm. Upon arriving at the school, I suddenly had the desire to stay in the car and hope that she would come to me today. Typically, I look forward to picking her up, chatting with her friends, my friends, and all of the wonderful teachers at her school. Today was definitely different, and I actually felt relieved at the sight of her being walked to my car by her teacher. I packed her in and began the five minute drive home. After getting her settled in the house, I left to go get her 14 year-old brother, my stepson, Nick, at his school 20 minutes away. Upon reaching the end of my driveway at approximately 3:24, I felt a big contraction. This one really got my attention. It wasn’t too intense, it just was “loud” enough for me to take note of the time and look out for the next one. Sure enough, three minutes later, I had another. And three minutes after that, yet another. And so they continued all the way to Nick’s school. As I said, they were not intense enough for me to pull over, just more noticeable than the others I had had so far today.
Upon arriving at his school, I was pleaded with to let a friend jump in the car so I could taxi him to the local skate park. Of course, I obliged, as it is a little known fact that when in labor up to a certain point, we women can be easily persuaded=) In other words, I did not have the energy to say no. On this particular day, it just so happened that my husband and I had taken our car, with the baby seat in it, to the shop to get an oil change, so by the time I reached the skate park, the thought occurred to me that, yes, I might just be entering hard labor, and that it would be an excellent idea to call my husband, Colin, to ask him if I could come get him early from work at 4 pm before I was unable to drive myself. Honestly, I felt a bit foolish because prodromal labor can give you so many false-starts, I wasn’t entirely sure by any means that this was “it.” I called him anyway, and he must have sensed the benign panic in my voice, as by the time I got to his office 5 minutes away, he was standing on the street corner, briefcase in hand, readily awaiting our arrival. At this point I kicked Nick out of the front seat, where he had been timing contractions for me, and had Colin take his place in the passenger seat. Apparently being in the state of entering into hard labor also makes me quite stubborn, because I was sure I could drive and I refused to have Colin take over. Colin began timing contractions, and noted that they were 2-3 minutes apart, lasting 1-2 minutes in duration. At this point, they all had the same high level of intensity. I do believe that for those of us who experience prodromal labor, everyday tasks while experiencing contractions become much more run-of-the-mill and much, much easier once one becomes used to what labor feels like. A woman who goes into labor 12-24 hours before having her child cannot often comprehend driving, grocery shopping, chatting with friends, enjoying a leisurely dinner, or paying bills during her labor, whereas a prodromal laborer has become used to doing everyday tasks through her contractions, and therefore often can continue doing these tasks deep into her labor. This was definitely me.
Once home, the time was about 4:30 pm, and we began walking around our backyard as a family, quietly enjoying these precious moments leading up to the birth of our newest member of the family. About 15 minutes into hanging out with everyone, I had a very intense urge to sit on the toilet, not to go to the bathroom, but to just sit. When I did, I noted that not only did I feel better, like loads of pressure was being released, but that I was finally experiencing bloody show, which I announced to the entire family whether they liked it or not! Perhaps it was the psychological sighting of the bloody show, or maybe my labor was just really kicking into high gear, but around 5 pm things really started to happen quickly. I realized it was now or never to go get the car from the dealership. Almost instantly and ironically, we received a call from the dealership stating that our car was ready for pick up, and off Colin and I went to go bring our car home for its inevitable ride to the hospital. Once at the dealership, a 10 minute drive away, I had to stay put in our other car, carefully and slowly getting up only to move to the driver’s seat. I was aware that my labor had definitely entered a more intense state. This baby was coming and coming fast. Driving home was challenge. I will admit that there were times when I knew a contraction was coming on and I was actively searching for a place to pull over. I did not pull over, however, and made it home by 5:30 pm.
Once home, Colin and I decided to embark on our walk. “The” walk which was one we had romanticized for months. The one that you read about other couples taking through woods and across streams. Sigh…what a romantic way to spend those last moments of labor with your partner. Well, we were certainly not destined for that! We made it about 100 yards down the path that leads from our house onto a neighboring farms and woods. At this point, I was either squatting during contractions or wrapping my arms around Colin’s neck and allowing my body to go limp and heavy. The contractions were so on top of one another that I could neither speak a full sentence nor really express any thought at all. I was beginning to go into myself in that deeply focused state that only a laboring woman can experience. I was also feeling a very peculiar pain, that had the look and air of a contraction, but only lasted a few seconds and actually hurt, even becoming excruciating at times. Colin and I both were unsure of what this pain was, and I began telling myself that it was just one of those really hard-working, progressive contractions, that dilates you a few centimeters at a time. At this point, I felt like all I was experiencing was a mixture of painful contractions and intense contractions. My uterus felt like it was hardened constantly with no break whatsoever. Little did I know what was really happening during those “painful contractions.” Realizing we were not going to enjoy our walk, we made our way back to the house, where I began stripping my clothes along the way and got into our hot tub to labor in the water.
At this point, I recall behaving very “Transitionally.” I was naked and didn’t care. I was beginning to wonder how much more I could take. I was frank and honest and was certainly not laughing or making conversation. Surprising even to me, I began making the deepest, most guttural sounds I had ever heard out of my mouth or anyone else’s. For every intense contraction AND every different, painful contraction, I would fight the panic in my head, that fight-or-flight mentality, by letting out deep groans which helped very much to get through the intensity of each contraction. I found that the deeper and longer my vocalizations were, the easier it was to get through a contraction. I experienced about three contractions in the hot tub, all two minutes, all on top of one another. I asked Colin to call the midwife, but since he felt we had not been in hard labor for that long, he wanted to put off our call to her for a bit longer. I was polite at first, then not so polite, when I looked him in the eyes and said, “call the midwife now.” If I could have, I would have picked up the phone myself. At this point I knew I was in Transition with a capital T. My midwife knew it, too. It was about 6:30 pm and she asked us to meet her at her office at 7:30 pm. I knew I couldn’t even wait that long, but got out of the hot tub, changed into a loose sundress, and spent my time sitting on the toilet waiting as my family dashed around the house getting everything ready to go. The suitcase (complete with laboring tools, towels, water bag, rice bags, etc.) and the cooler (ready to be filled with OJ, popsicles, cool washcloths, etc.), which had been ready for weeks, now seemed pointless. I knew I would not be needing any of these items!
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we piled into the car, the kids having been warned of the strict necessity to not talk or ask me questions in the car. The car ride was the worst, as I often hear it is for those of us who like to labor at home for a longer time than in the hospital. I began feeling the urge to push. I, in fact, asked Colin to pull over at one point so that I could have the baby on the side of the road. He did make it, however, in twenty minutes time to our midwife’s office, which is located within walking distance to the hospital.
The kids made the switch to their aunt and uncle’s car, patiently awaiting our arrival, as Colin and I said goodbye and made our way into our midwife’s office. I proclaimed that I would go sit on the toilet, and she was happy to meet us there to check the baby’s heartbeat and position, as well as my dilation. Gabe had been, just one day before at our last appointment, head down and almost fully engaged, with a very normal heartbeat. Actually, Gabe had been head down since 22 weeks! When Donna, our midwife, went to find Gabe’s heartbeat in the same spot as it had been in for the entire last half of the pregnancy, she came up with nothing. Not alarming us, yet, she continued up my belly until she got about 2 inches above my belly button. She finally heard his heartbeat there, and we were all a little confused and very stunned. She then did an internal exam and discovered what she thought was either a foot or a hand pushing through my cervix! My bag of waters was bulging and I was only two centimeters dilated. At this point everything happened very, very fast. She excused herself, made a call to her OB that she works with directly, and had him meet us at the hospital. Colin and I were told to go straight to the emergency room, where she would meet us and escort us up to L&D on the 4th floor. At this point, I was experiencing the most of the painful, “other” kind of contractions, and surprised even my natural child birthing self by thinking that I would need to get pain medication if this kept up.
I was strapped to two monitors, where the doctors and nurses, and of course, my midwife, were finally able to ascertain what was happening. My baby, after so long in the head down position, had flipped and become footling breach. He in fact had only flipped in the last hour or two of hard labor, and the painful, “other” types of contractions I was feeling weren’t contractions at all. Thanks to our monitors, everyone was able to figure out that what I was feeling was the baby moving: turning completely upside down and pushing with all of his might onto my internal organs. When a normal, intense contraction came on, the monitors picked that up, too, and I was able to get the affirmation that a) the contractions I was feeling were of Transitional strength and b)I was handling them beautifully. I had essentially gotten all the way to the Pushing Stage, but because my baby was breach, everyone made the unwaivering call to perform an emergency c-section. I was shaken up to say the least. As a huge Bradley Method proponent, I felt like by having a cesarean, even one that I couldn’t argue with, it was equal to failing as a mother, wife and woman. According to everyone providing my care, they were most concerned that if my water broke during labor, the baby’s umbilical cord would prolapse, resulting in compression of the cord and a depletion of oxygen via the cord to the baby. It was decided that instead of having to rush to the emergency OR, I could wait 45 minutes for a current cesarean procedure to finish before I would be wheeled into the L&D OR to have mine performed. Those 45 minutes were excruciating. Given a drug intravenously to stop the contractions (which didn’t work), I was still left with the painful feelings of Gabe’s strong attempts to defy the heavy, hard contractions that were arduously working to bring him down into the birth canal. We knew three things: Our baby had a strong will to live, he was extremely strong in both character and physicality, and that what was happening was happening for a reason and completely out of our hands to judge or attempt to control. I was given no pain medication at all during this time.
At 9:30 pm, I was brought into the OR and my surgery went underway. I was given a spinal anesthetic, which as I had read and researched, did cause me to feel nauseous and to shake uncontrollably, so much so that once Gabe was born I could not hold him very calmly on my own. At 9:46 pm, with Colin by my side and our midwife standing next to us taking pictures (she is truly an angel in disguise), the doctors were ready to break my strong bag of waters (all that Bradley protein) and pull baby Gabe out. As Colin stood to watch his baby being born, I watched my husband’s eyes intently, trying to take in every lucid moment. However, the process seemed to be taking much longer than it should, and I began to notice that the room had gone silent. Colin’s eyes also looked very still and troubled. The next thing I knew, my baby was crying, Colin was announcing that he was a boy, and I was able to see him as he was brought over and laid in his little bassinet to be checked. I began to hear murmurings that Gabe had had his cord wrapped around his neck and his body, and because of this, his cord had not only been compressed during contractions, hence his decision to move and turn breech, but that because of the cord being wrapped around him so many times, it would have never been long enough for Gabe to pass through the birth canal head first OR feet first. As it was, during the cesarean it took both doctors pulling and pushing with all their might to get Gabe’s head to the point where the OB could reach into my uterus, hook his thumb in Gabe’s mouth, and pull him out that way. Due to the shortening of the cord, it was necessary to clamp the cord right then and there while Gabe was being held out of my uterus by our doctor’s thumb. We requested no bath be given to our son, and Daddy was allowed to hold Gabe’s hand the whole time and even swaddle him before bringing him to me. Gabe scored an 8 on his first APGAR and a 9 on his second. He was pink, kicking, and all screams. I could not have been happier to see my little fighter there next to me. It wouldn’t be until the following day until I would discover just what a strong fighter he had been.
I was able to attempt to nurse him within 20 minutes of his birth, which was challenging given all of the shaking I was experiencing, but I still felt it was important to have skin-to-skin contact with him, so from twenty minutes after his birth on, he never left Colin’s or my side, and was cuddled, caressed, fed and kissed at every possible moment.
It wasn’t until the following morning, when our midwife stopped by for a visit, that we finally began to understand the complexity of the situation we had just experienced. Donna said that she had come to say thank you to Gabe, having canceled all of her appointments that day. We asked what she meant, and she began to tell us a truly heartbreaking story. Three days prior to Gabe’s birth, another patient of Donna’s who was due two days before me came in to see her. She was not in labor, but from her prior visit, Donna knew the baby had been almost fully engaged and head down. When Donna listened for a heartbeat, she found none. When it was determined that this woman had lost her baby, a cesarean was performed to deliver the stillborn baby, and the baby’s cord was found to have been wrapped tightly around its neck. Once this baby became fully engaged, it did not make the choice to turn breech and avoid having its cord compressed. Donna has always said, “I trust babies.” In this case, she lost her sense of trust. She could not understand why the baby did not turn to avoid cord compression. When Gabe came in presenting the same way, Donna was determined to not have the same thing happen. But Gabe turning on his own strength and free will redeemed the trust that Donna has always had in babies and hoped to have again. We are so deeply sorrowed by what the family before us experienced. Their experience so deeply influenced us in more ways than we can say. For me, one of the greatest gifts it gave me was to be able to accept the fact that I had a cesarean, and that in my case, I was not in any way a failure or less of a woman somehow. Instead, our cesarean saved Gabe’s life, as even if we had tried to deliver him breech and vaginally, he would have not made it out of the birth canal and could have potentially become too compressed to receive the proper amounts of oxygen. I now do fully understand the importance of c-sections for medical emergencies, and will never in my ignorance discount their importance again. I will say that on the operating table I discussed with Donna my desire to have a VBAC for my second birth. And because I experienced all aspects of labor but the pushing, she said that she 100% wants to ensure that we can both have a VBAC together.
For now, I am thankful for my supportive and loving husband and family, to my midwife, Donna, for her unwaivering support, the care I received at the hospital to help bring Gabe into this world, my Bradley Method teacher, Jenny, for preparing me for everything, and Gabe, for teaching me that the best laid plans never go as expected, and that most importantly, babies are to be trusted at all times for their strength (thanks, Donna, for teaching me this important lesson), wisdom, and the natural creation that makes this beautiful miracle possible.
***I think it is vital to note that I have not once classified labor contractions as painful. I can honestly say that they were not. Incredibly intense? Yes. Lots of pressure? Yes. The only time I experienced pain was when I was forced to lay back on a hospital bed or when little Gabe was turning breech. Moving around for each contraction and attempting multiple positions helped immensely. The contractions themselves were difficult, intense, all encompassing, but NOT painful. I truly think this is so important to recognize as we are taught as women to fear labor. For me personally, I cannot wait to do it again.
For the record, I was 38 weeks when I delivered Gabe. Gabriel Peter Steele is now 3 months old. He is strong, stubborn, willful, and happy…just like his Mom.
