My homebirth at the hospital

Here is my birth story.

My water broke at 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday, December 18. I woke Matthew. We called the midwife and then tried to go back to sleep. Later, I spent a little time working from home, but decided to call it a day around 2 p.m. when I started getting mild contractions. We planned to have a homebirth, so when the contractions got stronger, my midwife, Alice, and a student midwife, Juno, arrived at our house on Tuesday evening. Things were progressing normally and by about midnight I was into active labor. But then, my contractions sort of tapered off and became less frequent.

On Wednesday evening, Liz, my birth assistant and a doula, arrived. My birth team tried all sorts of things in their bag of tricks to stimulate contractions. I did a shot of castor oil. I took tincture of black cohosh. I drank raspberry leaf tea. I took showers. Matthew and I took several short walks outdoors. We slow danced. We made out. All of these things would work for a while and then peeter off again. Eventually, I was nearly 10 centimeters dilated, but my dilation was not complete because there was still a rim of a little less than half of my cervix that hadn’t totally opened up.

When Thursday morning rolled around and not much had changed, we decided that it was time to consider plan B: going to the hospital. I was very disappointed. Matthew was very worried about me. In the end, no one told us what to do. It was our decision. Finally, I accepted that it was the best plan. Since my water had broken, the risk for infection increased as time passed. Also, I had been up for two nights in a row and exhaustion was bound to set in. I could still try to have my baby at home, but if things didn’t change I might end up later having to transfer to the hospital as an emergency, in an ambulance. By going now, I could still be in control of my options. Alice thought a little bit of pitocin, an artificial version of the hormone oxytocin, which stimulates contractions, would help me open up the rest of the way. So, by mid-day on Thursday, we were all on our way to the hospital, in a very calm way, in our own cars.

I had a few things working in my favor. My water remained clear, which meant no meconium and probably no infection. The baby's heart rate was great the entire time, and my vitals were perfect. No one was in distress.

The other thing I had on my side was my team. They all came with me to the hospital and stayed for the entire process. I honestly don't think I could have done it without them.

At home, even though I wasn’t fully dilated, I was already having the urge to push. But, when I arrived at the hospital, the nurses and doctor made me stop pushing. This was so hard because my body wanted to go there.

Getting through these pushing contractions was very difficult, especially since they were so much stronger because of the pitocin. The presence and encouragement of my birth team and Matthew was so important as I managed the powerful contractions stimulated by the pitocin, fended off offers of an epidural that I had already very clearly stated I did not want, as well as a veiled threat of a c-section, and finally dilated the last bit.

Alice kept me focused on not pushing by helping me breathe. I'll never forget holding her hands and staring at her face and chanting with her. Liz vigorously rubbed my hips (called the apple shake) -- a sensation I desperately needed. Juno, the student midwife, kept sweetly encouraging me with her kind words. And, Matthew did all of these things throughout the process and then some. Getting an epidural did cross my mind more than once toward the end, when I was doubting I could get through it. (I know now this was a sign that I was just about ready to push!) But, my team kept me focused on taking it one contraction at a time. When they finally checked me and told me I was fully dilated and that I could resume pushing, I nearly jumped off the table with sheer joy!

But, I also knew my hard work was not done. With all my remaining strength, I pushed for about three hours. In the hospital, I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink, but Matthew and Liz conspired to secretly add honey to my cup of ice chips in an attempt to replenish my energy. At one point, my movements during pushing knocked out my pitocin IV. The nurse was going to leave it out since I had almost finished the bag, but Alice, knowing how low my energy was and how much I needed the help, spoke up and said, "We came here for the pit and we're going to get the pit." Then, the nurse scrambled to replace my IV. I certainly wasn't willing to push and use up my last bit of energy without a very strong contraction. I knew I only had so much left in me. Later, the nurse told Alice she was right.

I don’t know where I found the strength but I dug down and finally pushed my baby out without further medical interventions. I have never, ever worked so hard at anything in my life. When they put Jonah on my belly, and my sister and my dad came in the room, I think I was the only person in the room not crying. Maybe I didn’t have the energy, but I also think along with the joy of seeing our baby boy, I felt such a strong sense of accomplishment and pride. Having gone through what I've been calling my "homebirth at the hospital," I feel like I could do anything. It's a feeling I wish for every woman to experience. ~ Nicole