Birth Story: Felix Rose
I hadn’t thought much about labor. Or post-labor to be honest but that's a story for a different time. I lost my first baby with a traumatic miscarriage. It changed me. I guarded myself from my second baby throughout my pregnancy. I don’t know if that’s why I thought so little of labor. Maybe part of it. But truth be told labor never really concerned me. Though I did have some preferences. Well just one I suppose. I wanted to try unmedicated and see how it went. But I was open to an epidural if that’s what I wanted in the moment. Who knows. All I all, I thought what would happen would happen.
During a weekly check up with my midwife, 5 days before my due date, she asked if I wanted a sweep. I had heard about them and thought why not. She did it. It hurt. I went home and cleaned my apartment.
My parents arrived in NYC that night from Australia, visiting for a few months to help with the baby. We met for dinner at 7 and parted ways around 9 - us to our apartment and them back to their hotel. My husband and I sat on the couch, watched TV, then went to bed around 10:30. A busy day distracted me from the lack of labor onset from the sweep. I laid in bed thinking “maybe tomorrow” and closed my eyes. About 10 minutes later I felt a cramp in my lower back. Weird, I thought, and kinda painful. I closed my eyes again, trying to fight through the more familiar pain of heartburn. 5 minutes later, another cramp. This one definitely hurt. I was intrigued. I knew the general rule of contractions - head to the hospital if they are within 5 minutes of each other and last 1 minute. I downloaded a timer app. A few minutes later, another one, more painful and lasting 30 seconds. I tell my husband I think I’m in labor. We sit up. We wait. 4 minutes later, another one, guess what? Stronger, lasting longer, you get the point. I was in labor and it was progressing. Fast.
I call my mom. We planned for her to stay at our apartment to care for our dog while we were in the hospital. It was Covid times so we were worried whether we would be able to leave during and after labor. She doesn’t answer. I call my midwife. She says to time the contractions and head to the hospital when I’m ready, or something of the sort. Honestly I’m not sure because at this point, 30 minutes into contractions, I’m curled over the table every 3 minutes for a minute each time.
We call my mom again, and again, and eventually beg the hotel staff to ring her room. She answers, surprised, and rushes over. My husband is giving her instructions for the dog and I’m in fetal position on the floor, reaching for my labor bag and telling my husband we have to go. My mom agrees and gives me a hug.
50 minutes into labor. I need this pain to stop. We call a cab. The hospital is a 3 minute drive. I have two contractions in the short ride. We get in the elevator and arrive at the front desk. I’m on the floor, I can barely lift myself up. They get me in a room to determine if I can be admitted yet. I lay down and ask for an epidural. They tell me to wait a bit longer, first I need my midwife and my cervix checked. I’m screaming, not at anyone in particular, mostly barbaric noises, the pain is everywhere, my body feels broken. The nurse checks how dilated I am. She only gets 45 seconds to check, that’s how long the breaks between the two minute contractions are. I can’t breathe. The nurse finished the exam. She seems confused, but doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t matter to me, nothing matters besides this pain ending. I beg my husband to get me the epidural. He’s trying.
Another nurse comes in. Asks me how long I’ve had contractions. 1.5 hours at this point. She waits for the next contraction to end. I'm delusional. She does another exam. I’m 8cm. Now I'm confused. At the midwife appointment I was 0.25cm dilated and showed no signs of labor. Whatever, can someone get me the epidural now?
They admit me into the delivery room. I’m hooked up to machines. I clench my jaw and whisper epidural, the only word I have energy for, in between contractions, now 30 seconds apart and lasting for what feels like eternity. I’m losing my desire to live. My husband asks me if I’m ok. I give him a look that only a wife in labor would give a husband when he asks if she is ok. A win in my book. Ugh, now I’m paying for it. A contraction to end all contractions (I wish), I’m on all fours. It’s just me and my husband. I feel everything. I feel my baby, he’s coming out of me. I tell my husband. He runs to get the team of nurses and doctors outside my room discussing whether I can get the epidural. They fly in. Put my legs where they need to go. And tell me to breathe. The bestial noises coming from somewhere in the room, my mind has severed from my body at this point, get louder. A kind woman next to me tells me when to push. It’s during the pain. Great, I think. Something to do other than scream. I push. I feel my baby again. He is coming. Close. My husband glances down and tells me he can see him. The next contraction I push again. I feel his head pop out. I feel his shoulders come out. I feel his toes slide out. I feel the umbilical cord stinging my raw insides, lingering. He is here. My baby. 2 hours after my first contraction. The pain is better. I’m still outside of myself but maybe it’s ok if I start heading back in. I lay there, my baby on top of me. The nurse showing an empty version of me how to breastfeed. I'm almost back, I feel his skin, I see my husband, he is looking at our son. We say his name, Felix, and I’m finally back. There he is. That’s all I can muster, an acknowledgment of him. They take him for measurements while I push out the placenta, I feel how raw I am, they give me numbing shots and sew me up. I feel everything and nothing. I rest. My husband brings my son back. We did it. I did it. I hold him. Quiet, calm, finally unguarded.
Alex lives in NYC with her husband and 2 year old son. She is a research and data analyst. She spends her weekends upstate chasing her son, 11 chickens, 5 cats, 2 sheep, and 2 horses around at her rescue farm.