Hard to believe it, but today is Ocean's six-month birthday. In a funny way, it both seems like she was born yesterday and that she's been with us forever. In honor of her big day, I've finally put together her birth story.
Dear Little Cat,
You were born at 1:17 am on Sunday, August 10, 2008, six days after your due date. I started having contractions the Friday beforehand, 8/8/08. I went to the pool that afternoon, and swam half a mile, and realized that my contractions were getting somewhat regular – I had one every four laps. It was such a nice and sunny day, and no one else was in the pool, and it felt so good to float around in the water with you inside of me, knowing that it might be the last chance I got to swim for awhile. I had been hoping that you would be born that day, since 8/8/08 seemed like a great birthday to me, but by Friday evening it became clear that you weren’t coming, so Jack and I went to a wedding instead. We spent the evening eating, dancing, and talking with our friends, and all the while, I was having periodic contractions. I spent a lot of time dancing during the reception, in hopes that it would spur you along, and lots of the older ladies there came up to tell me how radiant I looked.
The next morning I woke up, and the first thing I said to Jack was, “She’s coming today!” My contractions felt different all of a sudden. They still didn’t really hurt, but I knew that the intensity was building, and that you were on your way. We spent the next hour or so in bed, trying to rest, and enjoy some time together, knowing that we’d be short on both of those things for awhile during labor.
Around noon I decided to bake a cobbler with all of peaches that I had in the kitchen. I figured that you were coming and we weren’t going to have time to eat them all before they went bad. And, I wanted to have a treat ready for the birthing team. While the cobbler was in the oven, your Uncle Jenny and I went to Whole Foods to buy some homeopathic caullophyllum, which a friend suggested taking to get my labor moving. While we were in the store, I was having occasional contractions and grabbing Jen’s arm. She kept asking, “Oh my god, are you having a contraction now??” We got back home around 3:30 or so, and sat down to watch the Olympics and wait for labor to begin in earnest.
By 4:30, Jen had left, and Jack and I were lying on the bed. My contractions had begun coming every 5 to 6 minutes, and we called Mary, our midwife, to let her know. She gave us instructions to stay at home and call her again when things got more intense. We called your uncles Jonna and Rocket, who were the rest of the birthing team, and they said they’d be over soon. I asked Jack to make me some toast and cheese and apple, but then found I could barely eat any of it.
After that, I began to lose track of time. Jonna and Rocket arrived, and Rocket brought me a bowl of mung beans and rice to eat between contractions. I remember that I didn’t want to eat, but that it tasted surprisingly good. Jonna sat in the living room, watching the Olympics with the sound turned off, and I lay on the bed, alternately squeezing Jack’s and Rocket’s hands. Jack brought in a huge mason jar full of water, and I sipped at it through a straw. I remember laughing because he had teased me about those straws when were cleaning weeks ago, and tried to get me to throw them away. I had insisted that I would use them, and felt vindicated that they were finally coming in handy!
At some point, my contractions began to really hurt. I wasn’t prepared for how intense they were, and how much pain I experienced. I spent a lot of time laboring on my side, and on my hands and knees, still on the bed. Jack and Rocket kept urging me to sip at the water, and asked me if I wanted to listen to music, or a relaxation cd, or a meditation script. I just wanted the quiet, though, and the three of us stayed on the bed in a very calm and peaceful silence. The only lights on were the Christmas lights hanging on the windows, and at some point I realized that it was getting dark outside, and felt surprised by this. Several times, I went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet during my contractions, rocking back and forth. Jack told me later that whenever I did this, he and Rocket ran into the kitchen to try and eat a few bites of food before I came out again. At one point, Jack came in and announced, “Michael Phelps just set a new world record in swimming!”, but I was too out of it to care. When I went back to the bedroom, I got my yoga ball, and sat on it, draping my body and my arms over the edge of my bed. I had a bright pink down blanket wrapped around my shoulders, because I kept getting cold in between contractions. However, I’d get hot each time a contraction came, and would throw it down to the floor.
Jack called Mary again to check in. She told him to call her when I felt like I wanted to push. She said we’d have about an hour after that, so not to worry about heading into the hospital before then.
By that point, the pain was excruciating. I honestly did not know how I’d be able to keep going. I remember feeling panicked when I realized that there was no way to stop this process. Except, of course, to go through with giving birth. All of the techniques for letting go of pain we had learned in our Hypnobirthing class seemed ridiculously inadequate at that point. Though I generally have a high pain tolerance, this was the sort of pain that couldn’t be breathed through, that I couldn’t let go of. I remember gasping to Jack and Rocket in between contractions, “Pain-free childbirth my ass!” and “This is why gays shouldn’t have children!” At another point, I remember squeezing Jack’s hand and saying, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” He squeezed my hand back and told me that I could. At that point, I was so scared of the pain and the intensity, but having Jack and Rocket right there kept me calm, and centered.
Sometime after 11pm I went to the bathroom again, and saw that there was blood on my underwear. I walked out of the bathroom in a daze, and kept saying over and over again, “there’s blood, there’s blood.” “Good,” Rocket said, “that’s really good.” If he was at all freaked out, he didn’t show it. Both he and Jack were amazingly calm and confident. I felt so safe with them.
I knew then that it was getting close. I also knew that if we waited too much longer, I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to get into the car and get to the hospital. I asked Jonna to take Harvey, our dog, out for a walk. Then, suddenly, I felt the urge to push. It wasn’t a strong urge, and it felt almost like needing to go to the bathroom, but I was willing to count it. “I want to push!” I yelled. Jack immediately called Mary to tell her we were coming. I had just been wearing a tank top and my underwear, and Jack and Rocket helped me take off my top and put on a sundress. We grabbed the hospital bag, and got ready to go. As we were leaving, I remember asking Jonna to bring the abandoned plate of cheese and apples back to the kitchen, so that it didn’t collect ants in the bedroom.
We took two cars, and I asked Jonna and Rocket to call my mom from the road and tell her that we were on our way to the hospital. Walking down the staircase in my apartment building, I remember hoping that I wouldn’t run into any of my neighbors, because the thought of trying to talk to anyone was more than I could handle.
The ride to the hospital was awful. I was in so much pain, and my contractions seemed to be getting even more intense. The seatbelt felt like it was constricting me. I was hanging on to the handle over the door and screaming with every contraction. Jack was trying to balance driving safely with getting us there quickly. I think he was scared by how loudly I was screaming, especially because I’d been so quiet at home. Something about the car just opened up the screaming space for me, though, and I felt like if I yelled with each contraction I’d let go of some of the pain. Even though I had felt very committed to a natural childbirth, while we were driving, I told Jack that if we got there and I wasn’t very dilated, I wanted an epidural. I just couldn’t imagine handling too much more of this pain, and I was getting tired. I felt like I needed a break so badly.
When we arrived at the hospital, we pulled up to the front door, only to discover that it was locked. We had to drive around to the emergency room entrance, which wasn’t marked. As we pulled out of the main parking lot, we had to wait at a traffic light. I wanted us to go ahead and turn right before the light changed, but the person in front of us wasn’t moving. I remember reaching over and honking the horn repeatedly, hoping that they would go. Finally we found the entrance, but there was no one inside to help us. At the emergency room station, which was under construction and again, unmarked, the person at the desk distractedly asked us to sit down and take a clipboard. I remember yelling, “NO!”, and Rocket running to go find a wheelchair. We kept asking how to get up to Labor and Delivery, but no one was there to tell us or take us. Rocket and Jack were wheeling me down the empty hospital corridors, and several times we got lost. Someone gave us the wrong directions, and sent us to broken elevators. Finally we found an orderly who brought us upstairs.
When we finally got in to the Labor and Delivery ward, it was just midnight. I was so grateful to see Mary, our midwife, sitting there calmly, waiting for us. “Get this baby out of me,” I shouted, and she took us into our delivery room. Then, my friend Kristina appeared. She works as a labor and delivery nurse at the hospital, and had just gone off duty, but offered to stay and help me breathe through my contractions. Even then, in the midst of my labor, it was hard for me to say yes, I need your help, please stay, but I did. She sat down on one side of my bed, and held my hand, while Jack was on the other. “It’s going to be okay,” she kept saying. “You’re doing great.” At that moment, it was so important to hear that from someone who had given birth to babies of her own, and helped to deliver hundreds of others.
The nurses tried to get me to put on a jonnie, and I refused, instead laboring naked on the bed. Mary checked me, and told me that I was just about fully dilated, and could start pushing at any time. By then, I'd forgotten about my desire for an epidural. I knew that you were coming, and that I could do it. Mary helped me on to my hands and knees, and I labored that way for a while. The nurses were having trouble keeping the fetal monitor in place, and so it was taking longer than usual to get 20 minutes of a reading. It felt so constricting, I just wanted it off, but Mary had some concerns about your heartbeat, and insisted we keep it on. I started pushing gently with each contraction, and though it still hurt terribly, it felt really good to be doing something active, instead of just letting each contraction happen to me. Mary asked if I would let the residents come in and observe, but I felt like there were already too many people in the room. The nurses kept talking about their backaches and their weekend plans. I just wanted calm and quiet, and so I said no.
Finally Mary suggested I get onto my side and push from that position. Kristina was next to me still, and coached me to just keep pushing, even through the burning sensations. At that point, I began pushing hard, and yelling loudly with each push. Jack was squeezing my hand, and I remember looking at him and feeling so lucky to have a partner who could support me so lovingly and unequivocally in a moment like this. The next thing I knew, there was a huge spotlight shining down on me, and Jack was at the foot of the bed, supporting one of my legs. Rocket was next to me, holding my hand. There was a tv set over the bed, and in the reflection from the screen I could see your head begin to appear with each push. Jack said, “I can see hair!” I asked what color, and he said, “Wet!”
Finally, after about 20 minutes of intense pushing, I knew it was time to get you out. I took a huge breath, mustered all of my strength, and kept on pushing. Mary was there, guiding you as you emerged. I felt a huge pressure as your head and then your shoulders came out, and then suddenly, everything felt so much better. The next thing I knew, Mary was placing you on my chest, and you were so little and wet and warm and wonderful. I was vaguely aware of the fact that you were crying, but that seemed somehow removed. I was just so in awe of you, and the fact that you were really here. It was 1:17 am, just an hour and a quarter after we arrived at the hospital.
When it was time to clamp the umbilical cord, Jack did the honors.
Then the nurses were asking me questions and filling out paperwork, and they took you briefly to the other side of the room to weigh you and give you a shot. Jack and Rocket stood vigilantly over you the whole time, making sure that nothing bad happened to you.
You weighed 7 pounds and 7 ounces. We thought that was a good number.
Eventually, a nurse helped me get out of bed, and walk over to the bathroom. You had pooped all over my arm, and she helped me to clean it up, and to clean up the blood and fluid all over my legs. Finally they brought you back to me, and it was time to go to our recovery room.
I wheeled you down the hall in a little bassinet, and when we arrived at the room your grandmother and Jonna met us there. I ate some fruit loops and an English muffin. I was so dazed, but also just so happy that the experience of labor was over. You slept on my lap in a little bundle. Grandma tried to open the champagne that Jonna and Rocket had bought, and realized that she’d accidentally grabbed the sparkling apple juice instead. Somehow, it was 4 a.m.
Everyone went home eventually, except for you, me, and Jack. We slept for an hour or so, and then it was morning. The nurses came by to check on us repeatedly. We were the only patients on the ward. You and I practiced breastfeeding, and then the three of us snuggled in the bed and watched the video on parenting that the hospital insisted we view. We were, however, so exhausted that we all fell asleep, and missed the entire video. Grandma came to visit, and Jonna and Rocket too. I took a hot shower, and it felt amazing.
Finally Mary came and examined you, and we asked if we could go home. She signed our release papers, and we left the hospital around 4p.m. We had been there for less than 24 hours, but it felt like we were walking out into a whole new world. I remember feeling the warmth of the sun and thinking, “My god, you’ve never been outside before.”
We went home and Jack took a shower. I put you in your carrier and we took our first walk around the block. The sun was beginning to fall in that early evening late summer way, and I could barely believe that you were really here.
Now, six months later, I can’t believe how much you’ve grown. Happy birthday, Little Cat.
