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My story is a tad different
from many women. I knew what I wanted from my birth experience.
I knew from the very beginning that my body was made to do
this so I treated my pregnancy as a blessing. In month 4 I
went to my OBGYN and handed over the rough draft of my birth
plan to see what their thoughts were. I was a member of a
practice of 6 doctors, 5 women, and 1 man. The doctor during
this visit sat down with me and said “You are going
to need some sort of classes to help you get through your
first birth naturally. Try either Bradley Method or Lamaze
classes. But you’ll need something. We get a lot of
women that want to do it naturally…..until they get
into the labor suite. Women who prepare have a better chance.”
That afternoon I got on my computer, contacted Melissa, the
local Bradley instructor, and by 6 pm I was sitting in week
3 of a 12 week session. I got all the materials I needed and
my partner, Anthony, and I looked forward to how the class
would prepare us for the birth of our child.
Weeks went on and on and Bradley Method graduation
day came. After completing the course I started toying with
the idea of switching to a birth center birth though I planned
on a hospital birth. Unfortunately, due to my pregnancy history
of anemia, I was risked out of that being an option. Because
of this same reason I did not consider a home birth because
our house was too far from a hospital should anything go wrong.
I had my final birth plan approved by the obstetricians who
were on call around the time of my due date, I had two wonderful
doulas, bags were packed, and I was prepared to deal with
a hospital staff who may scoff at my desires to do things
naturally.
At 7 pm June 18th my contractions began. They
were not bad by any standards and I was able to talk and move.
I must have baked 6 pounds of brownies for the hospital staff
to enjoy. Comfort was an elusive state for me. My labor was
not painful, just very uncomfortable. No position was the
“right” one. The night passed and early morning
came. Megan, one of my fabulous doulas, was called at the
un-Godly hour of 4:00 am. She arrived at 5-ish and sat up
with us all night/morning as we talked and joked. Labor progressed
and contractions started to get more rhythmic. Their interval
timing decreased and I started to get shaky. When I began
heaving and vomiting regularly with contractions Megan was
sure I was entering transition and we should leave to the
hospital where my doctors would be waiting for me. We called
ahead and arrived at roughly 9:00 am. I went to the office
of the OBGYN practice and had a vaginal exam. Charlie, doula
number 2, met us here. At this time I was I was 4 cm dilated.
I was sent down to triage and family started
arriving to await the baby’s arrival. I was hooked up
to a monitor to assess my progress. In my birth plan I clearly
stated I wanted AS LITTLE INTERVENTION and MONITORING as possible.
Though, to be fair, they informed me an initial monitoring
would be required to see “where in the labor process
my body was”. While this monitoring session was taking
place I started to notice it was quite lengthy so I asked
if everything was okay. The nurse replied “Well, the
baby’s heart rate showed a deceleration and we need
to monitor it to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
If we can go for a full half hour with no decells we’ll
be in the clear.” Let me prepare you now…..this
is where it all started. Also, keep in mind these monitors
are highly uncomfortable belts that strap around the largest
part of your belly and squeeze whether you are contracting
or not.
After further monitoring the OB on call, Dr.
R, arrived and read the findings as they were being sketched
out by the machine. Dr. R was not thrilled. She suggested
we go ahead and move to a room and keep me on the monitors.
I told her I would not like to stay strapped down in a bed
and asked politely if this was a possibility. She was happy
to put me on mobile monitors that were wireless and even waterproof
so I could labor in the tub. When I arrived to my room the
nurses were told laboring in the tub had been approved by
my doctor because my bag of waters had not broken. Apparently
a tub labor is very rare at this establishment. But they sanitized
everything and when I was all “monitored up” I
got in. When in the tub, covered with a towel, family members
trickled in and out to say hello and comfort me. I was only
allowed 3 people in the room at a time so many people traded
off.
While the tub was a wonderful place for me,
the nurses were having a hard time letting me enjoy it because
every time the baby would move they could not clearly hear
the fetal heartbeat and they were under the impression it
was decelerating. They claimed this was happening “too
often for their comfort”. So out of the tub I went.
I was laid down in the bed for another vaginal exam, as it
had been about 2 hours since the first one. Still 4 cm. At
this point the staff was starting to get slightly annoyed
with my wishes to be mobile. When they would leave the room
I would get up and move to my heart’s content. I continued
laboring in the best way I saw fit.
I decided the tub was where I needed to be so
I got in. I also decided the monitors were a little too much
for me at this point and they came right off. They were causing
too much discomfort and unnecessary panic from the staff.
Of course when there was no reading being emitted from the
machine a nurse rushed in quite panicked until she saw me.
She asked me to return to the bed, even though I was clearly
in the middle of a contraction, she tried assisting me up.
Anthony told her politely to please wait until I was finished
with the contraction before trying to help me into bed. After
the contraction ended I told her the tub was where I was going
to stay and that if I absolutely had to, I would hold the
monitor responsible for the fetal heart rate reading to my
belly and move it as the baby moved to be sure they could
hear everything properly. Straps were not an option any longer.
They baby continued to kick the monitor as if to say “Get
that thing out of here.”
Another hour passed and the nurses were getting
quite worried about the baby. Charlie, my second doula, informed
me “What they failed to inform you of is that heart
decelerations are normal during contractions due to constriction
and that a few are nothing to worry about.” She was
reassuring me that everything was ok and to listen to my instincts
about the baby. These instincts also reassured me things were
perfect. My last little bit of confidence came from the fact
that the baby was moving and that even when she moved you
could hear a faint heartbeat coming from the machine at an
obviously NOT slower rate than before.
Even so, Dr. R came in and informed me they
were going to start IV fluids and oxygen. I told her no. Anthony
told asked her “Why?” In my birth plan I specifically
outlined IV fluids were not an option. She asked us why and
my explanation was evidently not good enough for her. For
the next 30 minutes Dr. R and the nurse argued with Anthony,
myself, and Charlie about IV fluids stating they were needed
to help keep the baby’s heart rate up. They did not
relent just because a contraction came. They did not relent
when Anthony and Charlie asked them to please stop talking
to me during contractions. Eventually I consented to wearing
an oxygen mask for a few minutes to get them off my back and
they gave up about IV fluids. I then went back to mobile laboring
and the machine kept pushing out readings.
After this oxygen treatment failed to work to
their liking, they went off to a corner of the room. There
was a decent amount of whispering as they reviewed my birth
plan. Charlie informed me, after eavesdropping, they were
going to start asking me to consent to things I previously
told them I would like to avoid. IV fluids were once again
brought up. I was asked to return to and stay in the bed.
I did neither. I continued to move around. I continued to
do what felt natural and right for me.
When Dr. R returned for the 5th time and completed
the third vaginal exam I was still 4 cm. It had now been 5
hours. At this point the serious conversation which led to
much insult towards myself began. I explained to the nurse
who was “caring” for me that I disagreed with
the reading coming from the monitor. I knew that movement
was a good sign and told her “the heartbeat only decelerates
when the baby moves into a new position and the monitor can’t
get a good reading. I think it’s slightly misgiving.”
She seemed to not hear a word and pressed on with the issue
of heart decells. Anthony interjected with a similar statement
to mine but she cut him of to say “We go to school for
YEARS to learn to read these machines. I think I know when
I see a decell in a fetal heart rate.” At this point
we knew in what direction things were headed.
Dr. R started telling me that if there was no
progression within the next few hours we would have to start
considering breaking my bag of waters. In a previous office
visit I asked how many hours they would wait during labor
until deciding it was necessary to break the bag and this
same doctor told me to my face “18 to 24 hours depending
on the condition.” Again, it had been 5 hours. I didn’t
object, just listened to what she had to say, knowing what
I was willing to do to get my ideal birth. Contractions came
and went, Dr. R and her nurse came down hard about starting
interventions I was not comfortable with. Finally the exchange
of words which can be called no less than a one-sided argument
as I refused to let myself become flustered by their persistence
came to a zenith when my own doctor, whom I hired, voiced
to me verbatim “I can get an order of non-compliance
to properly treat this child,” It was this statement
which lead to my decision to go home.
I stopped talking. Dr. R said her peace. The
nurse continued to monitor me and the baby. After a few minutes
the nursing coordinator for the hospital was sent in to try
and convince me to stay. She was very nice, but then again
someone had to be in order to get me to stay. I knew I had
to maintain with her my viewpoint that I needed to be in a
caring and nurturing environment in order to properly deliver
my child. I told her the hospital had been nothing but stress
since the moment of my arrival and that it was my belief that
this was the cause of my failure to progress. I told her there
was no other option for me but to return home. I looked my
doctor in the eye and told her I was sorry if she felt I was
insulting her expertise, as that was not my intent, but for
the health of myself and my child it was in my best interest
to leave.
I can honestly say I don’t remember the
ride home. According to Anthony I slept through most of it,
awaking only when I had a contraction. At home our tub was
sanitized and Charlie prepared me a wonderful lavender oil
filled bath to labor in. I got in and slept a bit. After no
more than 30 minutes my labor started getting much harder.
My moaning got much deeper and new instincts came over me.
I wanted to get out of the tub. I wanted to stand, I wanted
to be on all fours, I wanted to sit on the toilet and try
that. I could not get into a position I was okay staying in.
My restlessness eventually landed me on all fours, with my
head against a wall for support. Anthony helped me then sit
and sat behind me to help me. After another 30 minutes of
position “musical chairs” I settled on all fours
again. While all this was happening my father was having a
panic attack after listening to what the nurses and doctors
told him while we were at the hospital. So he decided he needed
to come into the bathroom where I was laboring with Anthony,
Charlie, Megan, my mother, and my best friend to tell me I
was being irresponsible and should get my ass back to the
hospital. He neglected to recognize my calm efforts to tell
him this was not the time and continued to upset me to the
point of sending me into a contraction. It came on hard and,
this time, with the sensation I needed to use the bathroom.
I looked at Anthony and told him to get Charlie
and Megan. I told them I thought we should go. Since I had
not yet experienced a feeling of “I can’t do this”
and they didn’t want to leave too soon to the hospital
and risk a repeat of that morning, they told me they thought
we should wait a little longer. A minute later another contraction
came on and I looked Anthony in the eye saying in all the
seriousness I could muster, “We need to go now”.
As I was contracting I reached back and felt the baby crowning
along with a strong urge to push. I calmly tried to control
my breathing and the head went back up into the canal. We
packed into the car. Anthony drove his SUV as my mom rode
shot-gun. I was in the back bent over the car seat on all
fours once again. We sped off t the hospital hoping no cops
would try and stop us while Anthony did 80 mph in a 40 mph
zone. We ran one red light (after stopping and checking for
oncoming traffic).
Halfway there the baby crowned again.
I told my mom “Look.” She turned over her seat
and said “Oh my God, that’s the head.” I
was able to again, keep calm and let my baby go back in. As
we had the hospital in view I finally felt the contraction
that wasn’t going to be controlled. I told my mom to
tell me how far out the baby was and she said “Ok the
nose is out, you need to push.” I pushed and out came
the head. One more push and I heard my baby crying. We were
in the hospital parking lot. My mom proclaimed “He’s
here! He’s here!” I said “It’s a boy?!?!”
She replied “No! It’s a girl!!!” My daughter
was finally here. Anthony flew out of the car to get nurses
and doctors and after we got all situated on the stretcher
with a crowd of onlookers amazed at the rare event of a “car-baby”
we were wheeled inside. I kept my daughter held close with
the umbilical cord still in tact as her APGAR scores were
taken. Anthony cut the cord. I was given a small private room
just outside of the ER to deliver the placenta. As soon as
that was done Anthony carried in our daughter with the most
awe-struck expression on his face. We looked down at her in
pure amazement with full knowledge our lives had just been
changed forever. Mirielle Airi Diez De Andino was born at
6:54 pm on June 19th 2009 weighing 5lbs 10 oz and measuring
19 ¾ inches long. The smallest angel I’ve ever
seen. She’s the love of my life.
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