Dash’s Birth – Part Two

January 16th, 2010

We arrived at the hospital at 6:45 am for the scheduled induction. Less than half an hour later, my water had been broken, the Pitocin had been injected into my IV drip, and I was in labor.

The first few hours were uneventful. I called my mom to give her an update on my progress, I ate a popsicle (the only food that I was allowed to eat other than ice chips), and I read a short story by Stephen King. The nurses checked on me periodically, and Eric and I watched the baby’s heartbeat and the pattern of my contractions as they were printed on a monitor next to my bed.

Dash’s heartbeat on the top and my contractions on the bottom.

During those early hours, Eric signed some forms and completed the application for Dashiell’s birth certificate. We decided – rather spontaneously – to change Dash’s middle name from Emmett to Lane. We both liked the name Lane when we were considering baby names, but I expressed concern that Dashiell Lane Newman sounds like Dashiell A. Newman when spoken. After I decided that the A stands for Awesome, I agreed on the name change.

After about three hours had passed, the contractions had established a pattern. They were consistently two minutes apart and they began to feel especially painful.

I refused anesthesia because it can make laboring longer and more difficult, as well as can negatively affect the bonding experience with the baby immediately after it is born. So without an epidural, I distracted myself from the pain by reciting in my head the lyrics to a song that I’d been listening to almost exclusively during the week leading up to this day (Grinderman’s Get It On, if you’re interested). The pain usually subsided before I could finish the first verse, and I savored the few minutes between contractions when I felt repose.

I started feeling exhausted and maybe even a little disoriented from the pain toward the end of the morning. I guess labor was progressing fast because when my cervix was dilated seven centimeters, the nurse called my ob/gyn to let her know that she should hurry to the hospital from her office across the parking lot.

The nurse told me to ignore the urge to push until my ob/gyn arrived. This was not easy. But when my ob/gyn arrived and she told me to start pushing, the pain had become so intense that I wanted to suppress that urge. They had to remind me to breathe between pushes, but then they told me to hold my breath and bear down during each push. It was so confusing!

I remember being surrounded by people, even though my husband was the only family member that I allowed to be in the room with me. There were at least three nurses in the room in addition to my ob/gyn and Eric – the labor and delivery nurse, a student nurse who was observing the labor, and a nurse from the nursery who was preparing the heat lamp and other items that Dash would need immediately after being born.

When my ob/gyn told me that I needed to push just one more time, I didn’t believe her. Later, Eric told me that I gave her attitude. I thought that she was trying to encourage me by convincing me that it was almost over. I had no idea how long to expect to be pushing – for all I knew, it could be hours – and I wanted to take a break, catch my breath, and restore my composure.

Sensing that I was struggling, my ob/gyn told me to reach down to touch Dash’s hair when she saw his head crowning. Feeling his head for the first time provided me with the motivation that I needed to keep pushing. And anyway, there was no going back at this point.

Eric was standing directly to my right and he was holding my hand. Among the chorus of voices that were coaching me through the pushing, his was the only one that didn’t sound distant and detached. I could hear him loud and clear, so his voice is the sound that I focused on during those last few pushes.

Fortunately, it turned out that my ob/gyn wasn’t kidding about “one more push”. Dash’s head was out, and my ob/gyn told me to stop pushing to give the muscle a chance to stretch slowly and prevent tearing, but at that point I physically couldn’t stop pushing! The rest of Dash’s body slipped out instantly.

She laid Dash on my chest, and the agonizing and excruciating pain that had me screaming and moaning for over an hour was instantly gone. Instead, it was replaced by an extreme wave of euphoria.

Just minutes after Dash was born.

Dashiell Lane Newman was born after only five hours of what was a remarkably simple labor with no complications. I felt full of energy and happiness when my ob/gyn placed Dash on my chest. He was naked, screaming, and covered with blood and gunk, but I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around him and touched my face to the top of his head. I was in love.

After Eric cut the umbilical cord, the nurse took Dash off my chest so that he could be weighed and measured, and I immediately craved cookies. I was ravenous because I was not allowed to eat before being induced.

When the nurse returned him to me, I was able to breastfeed him and hold him for about an hour before they took him to the nursery. Two at a time – due to a rule the hospital implemented to prevent the spread of the swine flu – our family and friends who had been waiting in the lobby were permitted to visit. After all of the visitors left and less than two hours after giving birth, I was out of bed and walking around. I felt amazing.

After reading so many books and blogs that depicted labor and delivery as terrifying, I worried that giving birth would be such an unpleasant experience that I would be discouraged from doing it again. Fortunately, my labor was not only short and manageable, but the rewarding feeling of accomplishment that I felt when it was over was so fulfilling that I am eager to experience it again.

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