***Disclaimer- This post was written by a guest blogger and are the opinions/ideas/views of the author and not necessarily that of Truly Fit. ***
Genevieve’s Birth: As told by Jessika Mason
Let me start by mentioning that I watched the Business of
Being Born before I was ever pregnant and was absolutely adamant that I would
NOT have any medical interventions. I was scared out of my mind that I would be
yet another frightened mama with the deer-in-headlights look on my face just
nodding and agreeing with whatever the doctor said to do. Pitocin? Ok, sure,
whatever you say. Just don’t hurt me. Epidural? Ok, just please make this
better. C-section? Y-y-yes doctor. If y-y-you think it’s for the b-b-b-best…
Well, I surprised myself. I won’t say it wasn’t that bad.
But I did it just like the billions of mamas who have gone before me over the
last however many years. My labor story isn’t special by historical means, but
by modern means it’s a rarity.
My pregnancy with Genevieve was fairly easy, compared to a
lot of the stories I’ve heard from friends. Barely any nausea, no back pain,
slept like a rock most nights, and my mood swings were pretty mild. (Or at
least that’s what my husband lets me believe.) Since she was my first
pregnancy, I thought it was the worst pregnancy ever. I was a bit dramatic, but
I felt like a stranger in my own body. I did not feel beautiful or glowing. I
felt like a gigantic ball of constipated crap. (Pun intended.) I could NOT wait
to be unpregnant! Do you know how much work it is to GROW a HUMAN?! Well, of
course you do, if you’re reading this. (If you don’t, just know that it’s a lot
of work. Painful work. Tiring work.) I wanted that baby girl OUT for more
reasons than just wanting to hold her and kiss her.
I was petrified of OB/GYNs. I did not want to end up under
the knife or be pressured into induction or an epidural. Luckily, my practice
had a midwife. (Yes, I said midwife. Don’t freak out, folks.) And she. Was.
AWESOME! It was all about what I wanted and making sure I and Genevieve were
healthy.
I believe I was a day or two away from my due date, which
was August 8. She checked me and found that I was 3cm dilated and about 90%
effaced. “I doubt we’ll see you back in here next week.” And thank goodness she
was right! I don’t think I could have made it through another week with my
sanity intact. I just wanted to be able to walk up the stairs without being out
of breath! And of course, I’m highly impatient. I wanted to know who she looked
like, what she smelled like, how she sounded, how it felt to kiss her tiny
noggin. Plus, I was tired of being constipated.
So, my due date came and went. I was bummed because my
grandmother’s birthday was August 8, and I would have LOVED for Genevieve to
share her birthday. No such luck! Contractions didn’t start until 4a on August
10. But guess what? No one had to put Pitocin in me to get them to start. That
was 100% natural, and it’s one of the very few non-induced pregnancies I’ve
heard of in the last 5 years. (I didn’t have very many “crunchy” mama friends
back then!)
We timed the mild contractions all day. I was bored out of
my mind. I will never time contractions again. Sitting around and waiting for
the next one to come while watching the clock was keeping me from getting
things done, which likely would have brought on more contractions. I was so
anxious to get things going and was getting so irritated that each contraction
felt the same as the last. I was ready for the pain! More pain meant less time
before I got to meet my baby! Bring it on!
Around 9:30, I’d had enough waiting and went to the hospital
to see if I had made any progress. We get there, get me in gowns, get me in a
room, check me, and… 3cm. Still 3 cm. I am much, much too impatient to hear
that I had not progressed at all! So, a very angry, pregnant mama walked out of
that hospital. I felt like I was going to be in labor for days on end. (Yes, I
was dramatic about it. But, like I said, I am not a patient person!)
I tried to go to sleep when I got home. Contractions slowed
down to every 10 minutes when I was resting, so I figured I could get a couple
of hours of rest. Then, about 2:30, about 30 minutes after I had laid down, my
water broke. All over my bed. I sat up, smacked my husband, told him my water
broke and to call the midwife, cleaned the mess, thanked myself for thinking to
buy a mattress protector just in case, and waddled to the car. Contractions got
more intense on the drive there, and I started getting this dreadful feeling
that I would be in a great deal of pain for a very long time, considering how
long it took to go from 3cm to 3cm. But at least I was in real pain! PROGRESS!
Thankfully, I was absolutely wrong. It took so little time
to progress from that point on that I think I made the night shift nurses angry
for making them do a delivery right before they were going home. I contracted
so hard that there was no break between contractions. The nurses were watching
the monitors and were astounded by my lack of screaming. I walked the halls and
barely made a peep until the last 30 minutes when the only thing that got me
through the constant contracting was humming. My midwife looked at me in
amazement, and my nurses couldn’t stop commenting about how calm I was.
I won’t lie. I shocked myself. I thought I would never make
it through labor without asking for medication! Well, ok, I did ask for
medication about 5 minutes before I got the urge to push. I kinda felt like my
body was imploding, but it was much too late. So, I took a deep breath and
said, “Ok FINE!” I just thought to myself, “This sucks, but DAMN I am AWESOME!
No epidural! BOOM! I’m a BEAST!”
My midwife then said, “When you feel the urge to push, let
me know.” I said, “What is that supposed to feel like?” She replied, “Like you
have to poop.” And we all got a good laugh because I happened to be laboring on
the toilet. At least I was in a good spot for taking a dump.
So 5 minutes later, I started pushing, and I am still extremely
bitter about this part of the laboring experience. Not because of the medical
staff. They respected my wishes and didn’t coach me. There was total silence
aside from my husband blubbering next to me. No one had told me that it was
going to feel like my body was being ripped in half! Oh mah gawd! That was
worse than the contractions! Not only did she have a big old noggin, her hand
was up by her face! Holy frijoles! My poor vajayjay.
I pushed for a whopping 15 minutes. I felt like my loins
were being ripped apart, but I’ve heard horror stories of women pushing for
hours on end. I felt like the luckiest mama in the world to have such a quick
delivery. Genevieve graced us with her amazing little life on August 11. She
was 8lbs 1oz, 21 inches long, and had only the tiniest amount of hair. I can’t
say that I remember her crying or even what she looked like in those first
moments. It was all a complete blur. All I remember is my husband crying and
thinking, “I’m not pregnant anymore! I’m a MOM!” I didn’t get to hold her at
first because I lost a lot of blood, but about an hour later, everything was
copasetic. I had my baby girl in my arms. My absolutely perfect and
unconditionally loved baby Genevieve.
And I did it with zero interventions. Because I’m a beast!
Jessika is a stay-at-home mother of two girls in a small country town outside of Buffalo, NY. Prior to starting a family, she assisted and educated developmentally disabled children and attended college. It is her dream, once they are finished building their family, to become a nutritionist who specializes in nutrition consultation and agricultural education.
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"A new baby is like the beginning of all things wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities." - Eda J. Le Shan
