Blythe Ellen- Urban Nebraska hospital with a Certified Nurse-Midwife
{Story contributed by Blythe's mom, Sarah.}
It was a dark and stormy night.
No, really….it was a dark and stormy night.
On Saturday morning (June 5th) at 4:30, my water broke. I woke up feeling as if I were peeing myself, and quickly jumped out of bed and waddled to the bathroom.
I called the nurse’s line and was told to head on in to the hospital. Ryan and I showered, finished packing up our hospital bag, and loaded everyone into the car, dropping Oscar (our dog) off at my parents on the way.
We arrived and checked in around 6:30 a.m. At 7 or so, a resident, senior resident, and student (it’s a teaching hospital) arrived to confirm that my water had broken. After shining the massive, blinding light in the general direction of my nether regions, the resident declared loudly, “yes, see right there, her water has broken – notice the glistening fluid on her thighs.” Fabulous. I was 1 cm dilated.
Sometime between 7:30 and 8 my midwife arrived. As I wasn’t having any contractions, she presented the options of either cytotec or pitocin to move me into active labor. I chose cytotec, as I had heard and read from multiple sources that pitocin tends to make the contractions stronger, more intense, and more frequent. Cyotec involves 3 rounds, one every 3 hours – a dissolvable pill was inserted, and I had to lie flat on the bed while the pill dissolved. Following that time, I had to stay in bed (but could sit up) for 30 minutes, then labor on/around the bed for 1 hour due to the requirement of fetal monitoring. During the third hour, I was free to walk and roam throughout the hospital. Once the cyotec had done its job, I was free to labor however I would like subject to intermittent fetal monitoring.
I received my first round of cyotec at 8:30, shortly before our friend Erin arrived to be part of the big day. Typically the first round doesn’t do much, if anything, in terms of dilation. In my case it advanced me to 2 centimeters. Walking the halls during the final hour of the first round was uncomfortable but not painful, in that I continued to walk without needing to stop or lean on anything. I also utilized the birthing ball (draped with a massive towel thanks to continuously leaking fluid).
Round 2 of cyotec began at 11:30, and the “uncomfortableness” advanced to mild pain. It didn’t help that Blythe’s heartbeat was so low in my pelvis that the fetal monitor couldn’t stay in place. At one point I had to hold the monitor on my belly while undergoing contractions, so that the nurse could get a solid 20-minute read of the heart rate and clear me to walk the halls. This round of walking saw me leaning heavily on Ryan every time I encountered a contraction. We ended up heading back to my labor and delivery room early, and I labored on the birthing ball and in the rocking chair.
I delayed Round 3 of cyotec because I was in increasing pain and didn’t relish the thought of having to lay flat in bed for at least 30 minutes. As a result, this last attempt to advance me into “active labor” (I felt like I was in active labor already, for pete’s sake!) began at 3:30ish. Sometime during the “hang out in bed” period, I threw up the measly amount of goldfish crackers I had eaten. I opted not to walk the halls during this time period, and the cyotec had officially boosted me into active labor at 4 cm dilated.
From here on out, the timeframes become less and less clear, but I do know one thing for certain: I had contractions consistently every 2-3 minutes, lasting at least 1 minute long, from this point until I delivered. For some reason I was anticipating more time between contractions, but clearly my body had other plans.
To manage the contractions, I rotated utilizing the birthing ball (large yoga ball), rocking chair, and Jacuzzi tub. I found rhythmic rocking and vocalizing to be most effective in helping me to manage and stay on top of every contraction. When on the birthing ball, I grabbed onto the hospital bed rails and rocked back and forth; on the rocking chair: rocking; in the tub: staring at the bathroom tiles and moaning.
As Ryan and Erin will confirm, I most definitely vocalized. Loudly. I was rarely in true screaming mode, but I did feel the need to verbalize with various moans and phrases. Halfway into active labor I found the word that most helped me manage each contraction, and it was “Ho.” Yes, Ho. I found it to be the perfect word to keep my voice lower and slower (higher pitched, fast noises make it easier to lose control). In hindsight, I clearly had MANY other options beyond "ho" that would have done the trick and would have been a little less insulting to those around me!
I also did not want to be touched – Ryan wanted to be as supportive as possible, and did rub my shoulders and/or encourage me between contractions. Once the contraction arrived, though, I smacked his hand away and occasionally grabbed him with a vice-grip as I chanted “ho” over and over. Every now and then I would enter the reality in which everyone else was living, and realize that Erin and Ryan must be out of their minds with boredom from hearing the same word repeatedly for hours. I would glance over at them to give them some sort of acknowledgement or greeting, but have since been told that I was really shoot them zombie death stares.
Sometime shortly after 9 p.m. I had a mild breakdown. My midwife helped move me to the bed to check my progress, and at the same time I experienced a 3-minute long intense contraction. At that moment, I nearly gave up (as if “giving up” is an option in childbirth). The combination of being checked and enduring a marathon contraction nearly did me in. I must have freaked even my midwife, because she said, “I don’t normally do this, but if you need something to help with the pain, I can put in an order.” I regained my senses, landed on the birthing ball, and found the will to carry on with my “ho” chants.
Just before 11:30 p.m. I needed a new position, and moved from the rocking chair to an “all fours” position on the bed. I then felt the the universal signal that a hugely pregnant laboring woman probably needs to push - the urge to use the bathroom. We moved to the bathroom to confirm that I needed to push out an actual baby and not a deuce. I then moved to a birthing stool – my midwife offered to help me back into the main area of the L&D room, but I needed to use the geriatric bars along the bathroom for support (note my previous coping mechanism of rhythmic rocking). So, bathroom it was. With the nurse in the bathroom, my midwife seated in the doorway, and Ryan standing just behind her, I pushed for what seemed like a very short 26 minutes, and little Blythe Ellen entered the world at 11:59 p.m.!
It was a dark and stormy night.
No, really….it was a dark and stormy night.
On Saturday morning (June 5th) at 4:30, my water broke. I woke up feeling as if I were peeing myself, and quickly jumped out of bed and waddled to the bathroom.
I called the nurse’s line and was told to head on in to the hospital. Ryan and I showered, finished packing up our hospital bag, and loaded everyone into the car, dropping Oscar (our dog) off at my parents on the way.
We arrived and checked in around 6:30 a.m. At 7 or so, a resident, senior resident, and student (it’s a teaching hospital) arrived to confirm that my water had broken. After shining the massive, blinding light in the general direction of my nether regions, the resident declared loudly, “yes, see right there, her water has broken – notice the glistening fluid on her thighs.” Fabulous. I was 1 cm dilated.
Sometime between 7:30 and 8 my midwife arrived. As I wasn’t having any contractions, she presented the options of either cytotec or pitocin to move me into active labor. I chose cytotec, as I had heard and read from multiple sources that pitocin tends to make the contractions stronger, more intense, and more frequent. Cyotec involves 3 rounds, one every 3 hours – a dissolvable pill was inserted, and I had to lie flat on the bed while the pill dissolved. Following that time, I had to stay in bed (but could sit up) for 30 minutes, then labor on/around the bed for 1 hour due to the requirement of fetal monitoring. During the third hour, I was free to walk and roam throughout the hospital. Once the cyotec had done its job, I was free to labor however I would like subject to intermittent fetal monitoring.
I received my first round of cyotec at 8:30, shortly before our friend Erin arrived to be part of the big day. Typically the first round doesn’t do much, if anything, in terms of dilation. In my case it advanced me to 2 centimeters. Walking the halls during the final hour of the first round was uncomfortable but not painful, in that I continued to walk without needing to stop or lean on anything. I also utilized the birthing ball (draped with a massive towel thanks to continuously leaking fluid).
Round 2 of cyotec began at 11:30, and the “uncomfortableness” advanced to mild pain. It didn’t help that Blythe’s heartbeat was so low in my pelvis that the fetal monitor couldn’t stay in place. At one point I had to hold the monitor on my belly while undergoing contractions, so that the nurse could get a solid 20-minute read of the heart rate and clear me to walk the halls. This round of walking saw me leaning heavily on Ryan every time I encountered a contraction. We ended up heading back to my labor and delivery room early, and I labored on the birthing ball and in the rocking chair.
I delayed Round 3 of cyotec because I was in increasing pain and didn’t relish the thought of having to lay flat in bed for at least 30 minutes. As a result, this last attempt to advance me into “active labor” (I felt like I was in active labor already, for pete’s sake!) began at 3:30ish. Sometime during the “hang out in bed” period, I threw up the measly amount of goldfish crackers I had eaten. I opted not to walk the halls during this time period, and the cyotec had officially boosted me into active labor at 4 cm dilated.
From here on out, the timeframes become less and less clear, but I do know one thing for certain: I had contractions consistently every 2-3 minutes, lasting at least 1 minute long, from this point until I delivered. For some reason I was anticipating more time between contractions, but clearly my body had other plans.
To manage the contractions, I rotated utilizing the birthing ball (large yoga ball), rocking chair, and Jacuzzi tub. I found rhythmic rocking and vocalizing to be most effective in helping me to manage and stay on top of every contraction. When on the birthing ball, I grabbed onto the hospital bed rails and rocked back and forth; on the rocking chair: rocking; in the tub: staring at the bathroom tiles and moaning.
As Ryan and Erin will confirm, I most definitely vocalized. Loudly. I was rarely in true screaming mode, but I did feel the need to verbalize with various moans and phrases. Halfway into active labor I found the word that most helped me manage each contraction, and it was “Ho.” Yes, Ho. I found it to be the perfect word to keep my voice lower and slower (higher pitched, fast noises make it easier to lose control). In hindsight, I clearly had MANY other options beyond "ho" that would have done the trick and would have been a little less insulting to those around me!
I also did not want to be touched – Ryan wanted to be as supportive as possible, and did rub my shoulders and/or encourage me between contractions. Once the contraction arrived, though, I smacked his hand away and occasionally grabbed him with a vice-grip as I chanted “ho” over and over. Every now and then I would enter the reality in which everyone else was living, and realize that Erin and Ryan must be out of their minds with boredom from hearing the same word repeatedly for hours. I would glance over at them to give them some sort of acknowledgement or greeting, but have since been told that I was really shoot them zombie death stares.
Sometime shortly after 9 p.m. I had a mild breakdown. My midwife helped move me to the bed to check my progress, and at the same time I experienced a 3-minute long intense contraction. At that moment, I nearly gave up (as if “giving up” is an option in childbirth). The combination of being checked and enduring a marathon contraction nearly did me in. I must have freaked even my midwife, because she said, “I don’t normally do this, but if you need something to help with the pain, I can put in an order.” I regained my senses, landed on the birthing ball, and found the will to carry on with my “ho” chants.
Just before 11:30 p.m. I needed a new position, and moved from the rocking chair to an “all fours” position on the bed. I then felt the the universal signal that a hugely pregnant laboring woman probably needs to push - the urge to use the bathroom. We moved to the bathroom to confirm that I needed to push out an actual baby and not a deuce. I then moved to a birthing stool – my midwife offered to help me back into the main area of the L&D room, but I needed to use the geriatric bars along the bathroom for support (note my previous coping mechanism of rhythmic rocking). So, bathroom it was. With the nurse in the bathroom, my midwife seated in the doorway, and Ryan standing just behind her, I pushed for what seemed like a very short 26 minutes, and little Blythe Ellen entered the world at 11:59 p.m.!
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