When Anna told me that I was about to begin pushing, I couldn't believe it. I was still under the impression that I was getting a c-section. I wanted to ask her, "pushing what??" I'd seen it in movies and heard my friends talk about "pushing," but it still seemed really crazy that I was about to be doing just that.
I'd say I pushed for about three or four hours. I remember looking at the clock off and on and thinking, "I will remember that I pushed so-and-so long." Nope, can't remember. I'm sure my mom can, though. I just know it was a long time, but it was actually a really nice relief. Pushing, though intertwined with contractions, is like a cake walk compared to just contractions. Instead of intense pain, I was just super, super exhausted. I'd been awake for a really, really long time, had some crazy painful contractions, been stabbed with needles, pooped on everyone, and I hadn't eaten, so I was pretty worn out. However, pushing was something that I could control. The strength and frequency was all mine. I could do it.
They had me switch from the "traditional" pushing position to a very strange one. The same doctor who had only spent a few minutes in my room, then declared "cesarean sections for all!!!" actually came back (upon Anna's request) and showed them a different position to put me in. Reeve had turned, but not dropped all the way, so this new position should help push him down.
So, I pushed when they told me to. And when Anna told me to try to push, not thrice, but four times during a contraction, I did. From there on out I pushed four times instead of the "traditional" three. I'm non-traditional, obviously. And I'm kinda proud of myself for mustering up the energy to push like that.
After pushing and changing positions and pushing some more, I finally got a little break. She let me skip a contraction and rest. I'm pretty sure I completely passed out into a deep slumber during those two minutes. Best sleep I'd had in 24 hours.
While pushing, Derick stayed on my left side and whispered in my ear the whole time. He also helped me "crunch" my head toward my chest, and he held the top of my leg while Mom held the bottom. That stupid leg was an issue. Though it was dead from the piece of junk epidural, I could still feel these CRAZY painful cramps during and after each contraction. If it weren't for those cramps, I'd say that aspect of labor was fun. Ok, maybe not fun, but not hell either.
Though it just seemed totally natural for Derick to be right by my ear, I realize now that he'd planned that part out for himself. All along, he's had no interest in being "all up in the action." He was happily content whispering encouragement and Marine Corps moto jargon to me. Ooo-Rah!
Though I couldn't hear or understand what he was saying in the beginning, I think Derick's encouraging words were truly what helped me push as long and as intensely as I did. He's always been my strength. The pushing was working, too. Reeve was dropping, and Anna told me after a check that he had hair.
I'd pushed for a really long time, and I was just so super worn out, when I saw even more excitement on Anna's face. She told my mom to "look." They could see Reeve's sweet little head. She asked me if I wanted her to get a mirror. I had tried to prepare myself for this question in the months prior. It's kinda weird, I think, to want to see a baby protruding out of your body. Well I thought that at one time, but when the question was actually directed at me, I said yes. I really wanted to see my son.
They brought in the mirror and had a hard time getting it adjusted just right so that I could see anything. I asked Derick if he could see, and he said no. He wasn't going to look. I knew better than to ask him. Such a party pooper. Finally, the mirror was right, and sure enough, if I looked really closely, I could see the top of Reeve's head. He was perfect to me even at that strange moment.
I made them move the mirror shortly after because it was distracting. Now I had some more motivation, so onward I pushed. And pushed...and pushed...Until Anna or someone went to get the room-preppers. Maybe the room-preppers had come before this, but I really think they came at this point. There were a lot of people in the room at the time, and one was my doctor. Tiffany Middleton had gone home, and Dr. Edwards had taken her place. I'd seen doctor Edwards a couple of times during my prenatal visits. He's the guy that said Reeve was a "tank."
Anyway, he came in along with a couple of nurses, and things started happening pretty quickly. They'd found out that Reeve was "meconium," as they kept calling it. I didn't know if that meant that he'd pooped or if he'd actually swallowed the poop. Apparently, he'd just pooped, but they told me when it came to the final push, don't push. Also they said I wouldn't hear him cry right off because they were going to suction out the gunk.
Dr. Edwards asked me if I wanted him to use the vacuum. Of course Google had freaked me out about vacuums when it came to child birth. I talked it over with Dr. Edwards, who said he delivered his own son and used the vacuum. Anna also said it was safe and used frequently, but I should expect a cone-head. haha. I finally said yes when Derick told me we should do it. I was tired, and we were ready to see our son. Plus, this educated man who could potentially be sued for giving me ill advice was pretty enthused about the vacuum, so I said let's do it.
The vacuum isn't a big Bissel Steamer. It's a little flat something or other that they put on his head. It vibrates, I push, and it pulls. Dr. Edwards told me that it was still 90% me, 10% vacuum, or some other percentage that seemed to be more dependent upon my strength.
I started pushing again, and it didn't take long for the vacuum to be inserted. I saw, at some point, Dr. Edwards grab some really long, silver shears and I remember wondering what those were for. Was he going to cut Reeve? I really didn't know at the time, but the stitches that came later ensured me that he'd performed an episiotomy.
On the final push that didn't really involve a push, I remember an immense amount of pressure being lifted off my body, and someone say, "it's a boy." I was like DUH. Anna said, "1631," and I strained to look at my tiny baby. So many hands and tools, and stitches, plus the weird way I was laying made it only possible for me to see his sweet legs and feet first. I was getting impatient. I wanted to see all of him. They suctioned him quickly, though, and when I heard that first cry, I couldn't help but to feel relief. So much relief. Our baby was here, and he could cry, and he was ok. He was better than ok. He was perfect. When I first saw him--and I don't remember the exact moment because my world was frozen--I saw my entire life, my everything, so, so much, right in front of me.
Someone handed him to me, and I remember saying over and over, "Hi, my baby. Hi, Mama's baby." Reeve was finally, finally in my arms where he belonged.
Anna told me that she wanted me to keep him on my chest for a while, just skin to skin, so they worked around me trying to get the hideous gown off so that I could hold him. She covered us with a blanket, and I wanted to stay just like that for the rest of my life.
I asked her when I could feed him, which was dumb, because he was my baby and I could do whatever I wanted, but I saw a little bit of urgency in her face, so I decided to ask. She assured me I could feed him soon, but she wanted me to hold him for a while. So I did.
They took him away for some reason, and asked me if Derick could hold him. My mom told me I was kinda snotty in my response. "Well, of course!"
I watched my two boys, standing in the sunlight of a Tuesday. My mom took pictures as Derick made sounds and talked to our baby. They were perfect. It was all perfect.
Anna saw Reeve a little later and told me, "he looks so much better. I told the nurses in the nursery that I had you lay him on your chest, and they said that was a good idea. It's amazing what skin-to-skin can do. You healed him."
I wasn't sure what she meant by healed him. It was more like he healed me. He made every sinful, ugly aspect of myself vanish away. He was part of me, and he was flawless. Apparently, though, Reeve wasn't breathing very well in the beginning, and just being close to me helped him calm down and regulate. Wow.
Because I'd developed a fever during delivery, they had to do extra tests on Reeve, so he and Derick were in the nursery for quite a while. He had a tiny bit of a temp, but not much, and it went down quickly. I was worried while I waited, but his Daddy was with him. Reeve was in good hands. The fever thing was scary, but once we were in the clear, I realized it was a blessing. Because of it, they couldn't put me in a shared room. So, we got a very small (but very appreciated) private room.
So, there you have it. That is pretty much Reeve's birth story, with a few slip ups, I'm sure. Giving birth was the single craziest, most painful experience I've ever been through. It was also the most incredibly rewarding experience, and I would do it all over a billion times for Reeve Roberts if I had to.
I'd written a birth plan in July, and it outlined everything *I thought* I wanted. I didn't want any induction meds. I didn't want an episiotomy. I wanted to walk around and do other "natural" things to bring on the birth before an actual induction. I wanted time to nurse immediately after the delivery. I had so many things planned out, but when it came down to it, I realized 1) I didn't really know enough about birth and medicine to question the professionals who did, and 2) sometimes, things happen that destroy our plans. Usually when that happens, though, the end result is better than anything we could have hoped for anyway. I'm grateful for everything that happened during Reeve's birth. Even though it was physically painful, the joy in my heart totally outweighs the pain.
Being Reeve's mama is the hardest, most fun thing in the world. But more on that later...he's ticked that I laid him down in the middle of a game of "giddy up horsey, go to town."
Enjoy one of Reeve's songs. I sang it to him while he was in my belly, and he still loves it...if he's in a good mood, that is;)
Morning Has Broken by Cat Stevens
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