Labor: a not so pretty but beautiful story

Six weeks ago and some I gave birth to my beautiful son, Flynn. It was an experience. That is it, an experience. I wish that I could say it was wonderful and enlightening... blah blah. I also wish that I could have taken pictures right after and looked like “no big deal” I just had a baby. Of course we see pictures on facebook of ladies in the hospital after they have given birth, they are happy, look great… well of course they do! They took that picture with the intent of putting it on facebook. We only show the best to all our facebook friends. Here is my story, a real story of labor.

First off, I went a week over. I think we all secretly hope for our baby to surprise us and come a few days early. (I would like to take a quick break to point out: waiting a little while longer is okay. I think of my friends who have had babies come dangerously early, and I would wait an extra 2 months rather than have my baby before it is a good and safe time.) I was scheduled to be induced on the June 3, 2014, a Tuesday. Collin and I went in at 7:00 P.M. I was scared, anxious, pumped, determined, and focused on the challenge ahead.

(I don’t want to be extremely thorough with all the details and such, but enough that the points I want to make get across…. so endure if it seems wordy.)

The nurses strapped me up to all these monitors, put an IV in, and started me with a pill placed behind my cervix with prostaglandins, which induces labor. Slowly my contractions began. I couldn’t really feel them at all, but I was feeling for the wrong thing. I was under the impression that I would feel them like cramps down in my lower stomach. Oh no! All my labor was in my back. Once I could feel it… I could really feel it.

I was planning on an epidural. I am tough, but not that tough. I continued to have contractions all night long. Collin slept. I bounced on a ball, and then I got an epidural at 5:00 A.M. That was nice. It took the edge off of the increasing pain, and I could relax a little.

Through all of this, I wish the nurses would have never told me, “Oh, I think you are getting close. We are going to have a baby pretty soon.” I think I was told that three times within a 12 hour period. I wasn’t really close. They don’t really know, and meanwhile I just wait thinking something isn’t quite right, because I haven’t had this baby yet.

Morning came. Collin woke up. I drank some juice. My parents arrived around noon, and they talked to me for a while. I could feel the contractions again. They seemed pretty strong. I thought they were getting stronger from before, but really my epidural was wearing off.

There were so many people in the room. I had so many nurses being trained. There were so many different hands inside of me checking things. I felt really overwhelmed, and I just tried to stay cool and and in control. I felt like I was dilated to an 8 forever. My cervix just wouldn’t quite finish effacing out. I finally felt something that seemed to be like his head coming down into the birthing canal. I begged them to let me push.

They checked me, and agreed that it was time. I started pushing, and pushing, and pushing. After an hour or so I could tell everyone in the room had gotten impatient - like - “you should have already had this baby, and instead we are all still waiting.” They decided to have me try a different position. They all got around me to help me turn around; I didn’t need any help. I moved all by myself no problem at all. My epidural was gone by this point. I didn’t even realize it. We tried the new position while someone went to get the anesthesiologist. I began throwing up. I remember feeling so helpless and stuck. I felt like the pain wasn’t going to ever stop and I would be stuck in this horrible state for a long time. I kept throwing up, and pushing, and trying my hardest to stay in control. I knew that I couldn’t panic or start to cry. I had to be in control if I was going to get this baby out.

We went back to that traditional position that you see on T.V. I had nursed on both side of my legs pushing them back when contractions would come. I was so irritated with the doctor. He kept telling me that I was pushing through because it was starting to hurt, and I would stop. How in the heck did he know that was what I was feeling? I assure you that wasn’t how it was. The anesthesiologist finally came back, shot me up with something, that helped just enough so I couldn’t feel the doctor pulling and pushing in side of me. That hurt more than anything. I screamed at him so many times, every time he touched me. He informed me he thought I was more numb than that… guess I wasn’t.

I kept waiting and praying for strength in between every contraction. You get like a 30 second break. I thought of it as the MOST intense circuit workout I had ever done. I had to believe there was an end, and that I could make it to the end. I was waiting for them to to tell me they could see his head, and that I just needed to give it one more big push. It finally came. Three hours after I had started pushing.

I wish I could report feeling an intense amount of love and relief once I heard my dear baby scream his first breath. But, I don’t. In fact, I passed out because I lost so much blood. The room went black, my ears began to ring, and I was spinning. After a while, I am not sure how long, I got to hold Flynn. It was surreal. At some point, I remember Collin squeezing my shoulder and saying, “Thanks for getting him here, Saige. You did great.” That meant a lot to me.

I was completely beat. My body was hashed. But, I couldn’t sleep. I was so anxious and worked up, I couldn’t. I just lay there feeling like I got hit by a train. That night I got up to go to the bathroom for the first time. The nurses help you and show you how to take care of everything down there. That first time you stand up, you look down and see a puddle of blood on the ground. That’s alarming. I walked to the bathroom with the nurse. As soon as I got there I passed out. We tried walking back to the bed, and I passed out again. Every time I stood up, I passed out. It was a struggle.

I finally got some sleep and woke up the next morning around 5:00 A.M. They had bathed Flynn, and brought him in for me to hold him. He looked up at me with his beautiful eyes and just looked like the most, precious, pure thing I had ever seen, and he was mine.

I again went to the bathroom. This time with two nurses help in case I passed out once more. I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t even look like me. My color was gone. My eyes were swollen and dilated. I looked dead. I wouldn’t have even dreamed of taking pictures at that point. No amount of makeup and hair doing could make me look better. I didn’t want documentation of me at my lowest point. My body was beat. (FYI you still looked 6 months pregnant right after birth because your uterus isn’t back to size yet.) I have never felt so unattractive.

I was so relieved to be able to go home. They were going to keep me an extra night and give me blood transfusions, but decided that I didn’t NEED them, and I could build up blood on my own. I was so happy to be on my way. At this point I realized that I hadn’t slept for 48 hours straight, and that I had been in labor for 22 hours. I wanted to sleep so bad, but I just couldn’t. I was way too stressed and anxious. I had a baby that needed me It took me a really long time to recover. In fact, I would say that I am just now back to where I really feel like me, 6 weeks later.

Having a baby was hard. Taking care of a newborn was hard. At one point, I just broke down and sobbed. I told Collin I couldn’t do it, and I was going to go home to have my parents help me. I just wasn’t tough enough. I felt so bad, taking his child away for a while. But, I couldn’t do it. I was going crazy and felt completely helpless. I had really wanted to breastfeed, and it just didn’t work out. He wouldn’t latch, I couldn’t feed him, he would cry, and I felt so alone. It was all hard.

Looking back, I wish I had taken a few pictures during the process. Mostly so everyone could see that labor is hard business. There are ladies out there that do look great after labor. Please, don’t expect that, and think that something is wrong if that isn’t the case for you. It is okay. I have NEVER looked worse in my life. I am amazingly more grateful for my own mother than I have ever been. I had no idea what it took to be a mother. I am also thankful for the opportunity to be a parent. I get to feel a very tiny amount of the love that my Father in Heaven has for me. I can’t even imagine. I also am thankful for the the opportunity to sacrifice my body and life for a spirit child of God. Of course it isn’t the same, but I feel that it is a way for me to be like Christ. I gave life to a spirit, I allowed him to come to earth, receive a body, and progress. My testimony of the Atonement and the Plan of Happiness was intensely and deeply strengthened. I love my baby. I love my husband, Collin. We have grown together in so many ways. I love my family, and I know that through righteous living and good choice I can be happy with them into the eternities. This is my goal. With all that… I am not in that big of a hurry to have another. It may take a while for me to forget the experience enough to take that on one more time;)