It was a typical Friday afternoon. I had finished work for the day, and was out in the garden working on my squash patch. Elizabeth was also done with work and was getting ready to go for a walk. She was eager to get this baby on the outside, but it just wasn’t cooperating. She felt maybe a good long walk would spur things along and was getting dressed to head out.
It was about 5:00, I had just grabbed a beer, and I was trying to weed all the dock that had overtaken everything. I thought I had heard my name being called, and I realized I didn’t have my phone on me. I knew I should have that nearby in case something happened and she needed me. I was walking back up to the house, and El was standing on the porch wrapped in a towel. “I think my water broke!”
This was a big shock, and suddenly everything got VERY real. She was nervous and trying to figure out what was going on, and I just went into management mode. We reviewed the notes from the doctor and they said to call the birthing center if you think your water broke. They all but confirmed that it was likely her water that broke. The problem was she wasn’t experiencing any other signs of labor. Just some minor cramping, no true contractions. They advised us that we didn’t need to come in right away, however with the water broken, there was now a chance of infection. We knew that would be a bad scenario.
It was always our plan to labor at home as long as possible, but this threw a wrench in that plan. We let the center know we were going to stay home a while and see if labor would start going on its own. We hoped that in the next few hours she would show signs of true labor, and we could deal with that in the comfort of our own house. They advised us that anything beyond 18-hours or so, the risk of infection gets higher and higher. I knew that while we wanted to stay home as long as we could, we would need to be in the hospital by early Saturday morning.
El decided to take a shower to relax, I cooked us a nice dinner, and then she went to bed early in hopes the contractions would begin soon. I took care of some last minute household stuff, and let my parents know what was going on. I went to bed about an hour later, but I couldn’t get any sleep. I was nervous and excited. About 11:00-PM we were both awake. El still wasn’t feeling much in the way of contractions. We talked it over, and while it wasn’t what we really wanted, we decided to play it safe and head in. I brewed some coffee, got everything loaded in the truck, and just after midnight we were making the drive to Cooperstown.
We got checked into the birthing center and the doctors came in to see where everything stood. Unfortunately, things were not moving along much. She was still just at 1-cm, and contractions were very small and maybe 10 to 20 minutes apart. But there was no going home now as the safest place to be was there where we could monitor the baby, El, and make sure everything was ok. At about 2:00-AM Saturday morning, we turned out the lights, and tried to get some more sleep figuring Saturday would be the day.
We were awoken about 5:00-AM by the midwife coming in to see where things were. It had been 12 hours since her water broke, and typically things would be moving, but sadly they were not. She gave us some options on how to start encouraging things along, but we declined. We didn’t want to intervene unless really necessary. We said come back in a few hours, and we would try to get some more rest. We tried to doze some more, but sleep wasn’t really in the cards.
About 7:30-am, the midwife returned, but the news was the same, no change. It was time to start being proactive. We wanted to start as minimally as possible, a breast pump can stimulate things and might just be enough so we went that route. We gave manual pumping a try, but it really didn’t do much. Just about that time, El’s sister Sarah showed up to provide us with additional support.
By 11:00, it was clear the manual pump just wasn’t cutting it. We still weren’t ready to go with any drugs, so we decided to give the electric pump a try. After two rounds of pumping, things were picking up, but nowhere near where they needed to be. She was still just 1.5-cm, and the contractions were few and far between. While Sarah popped out to get the two of us some lunch (the daytime midwife said El couldn’t have a bg lunch), we gave it another cycle of pumping , but it still wasn’t doing enough.
It was now 1:50, 20.5 hours since her water broke, she was just 2-cm dilated, and things were not moving. It was time to start augmenting labor and El was hooked up to a Pitocin drip. We decided to start the dose at the smallest possible, and just go up by one unit. At 2:30, we increased to 2-unit/hr, 3:30 went up to 3-units, 4:30 went up to 4-units, and by 6:00-pm, 25-hours from when her water broke, we were up to 5 units. The contractions were getting bigger and more frequent, but they were still only about 5-minutes apart and we needed them to be 2-3 minutes apart.
By 8:00, the pitocin was up to 7 units, and the night midwife came in and checked how we were progressing. We were still at just 3-cm. We left the pitocin alone, and just hoped things were progressing. The contractions were getting stronger, and staying between 3-5 minutes apart, but it was clearly starting to weigh on El.
The next three hours we tried walking, a shower, different positions; anything to relieve the pain and maybe speed things up. This baby however was just taking its sweet time coming along. The most comfortable position El found was sitting on her exercise ball, but the exhaustion was setting in and in between contractions she was falling asleep sitting on the ball. I would have to catch her so she didn’t fall. I was doing all I could to support her, and Sarah was an invaluable asset helping both of us with encouragement and making sure we all were staying hydrated and fueled as El kept powering through.
By midnight, El was tired, in pain, and when the news hit she was still just 5-cm dilated I could tell she was utterly defeated. Sarah and I were tired, and watching her go through this was just tough emotionally knowing there was only so much we could do. Sarah needed a break and went out to her car for a quick nap while El and I discussed it and decided to go ahead with a dose of Nubain, a sedative that should be just enough to take the edge off and maybe allow her to get some rest. It did the trick; and while she still woke up to some contractions, the next one to three hours she could at least lay down and get a little rest and some sleep.
It was now 2:30-am on Sunday, the Nubain had worn off, we had gotten an hour or two of sleep, and we were right back at it. They had increased the Pitocin to 7 while we were sleeping to keep the contractions on track. When the midwife came in at 4:00-am, we were so disappointed to hear that she was still just at 6-cm. Things were moving forward, but at what seemed like a snail’s pace. Sarah came back in with some much needed coffee for me along with a snack to fuel what we hoped would be the final stretch.
The next few hours were just a blur. Monitoring the contractions, keeping El going, they upped the potosin to 9, then again to 11, but it was tough. She was really getting close to throwing in the towel as the pain was unbearable and the exhaustion was really setting in. But we kept reminding her that things were moving forward, and she wanted to do this naturally. Around 7:30, the night midwife came in to do a final check before her shift changed and this was the best news we had received in hours. El was 9.5-cm, and things were nearly there. The midwife recommended some new positions that might get us across the line, except they were the ones that had proven to be the most painful.
El was champ tho, and did what needed to be done despite being at the end of her rope. We changed positions multiple times while the contractions got more excruciating in waves every 2 minutes. The Sunday Midwife came in around 8:30 and we were there; 10-cm, fully dilated, and ready to start pushing.
The midwife had to leave to go take care of another woman, knowing that pushing would take some time so between 8:45 and 9:30am, it was us with the nurses following along with the contractions and getting her to start to push.
When the midwife returned, we were making very little progress. El was exhausted, in pain, and wasn’t sure what to do. But Sarah and I just kept reminding her that this was the final stretch, and we had made it that far doing things how we wanted and we couldn’t give up yet. El beared down and found another gear and did what most can’t. She kept at it, no meds, just grit.
The midwife helped direct El on how to push, but even as we continued to increase the pitocin to 13, then 15, 17, and even 19, the contractions continued to slow to only once every 5 or 6 minutes. El had to push between contractions and was struggling, fear that a potentially 9.5-lb baby was getting stuck had sunk in. Luckily the monitor was showing a happy steady baby so we knew we could keep going. The major hurdle was getting the head past the pubic bone. Before that stage, it’s 3 steps forward, 2 steps back. The head was right there, and this full lock of hair was clearly visible; El just needed one more final umph.
We all kept on encouraging her, and it seemed like we were getting nowhere when the midwife said we were at the final step, the “ring of fire”. It turned out the pubic bone was already long behind, and now it was just bringing the baby out. El was at what she felt was her limit, feeling like she couldn’t go on, but she knew she had to. A few more rounds of pushing, and the worry was setting in again. The midwife paused and gave us the option for a small episiotomy, A small cut and the baby would be out. At that moment a contraction hit, and El emptied the tank. In an instant the head was out, the shoulders came through right behind no problem, and it was over. We heard a cry, and I got to call it, “It’s a girl”. My daughter was brought into the world on Sunday, June 15th, at 1:32-PM. It was father’s day, opening day of bass season, and now my daughter’s birthday.
What seemed like chaos to me, I’m sure was a well oiled machine with the hospital staff. People everywhere with equipment and medical stuff. Prepping areas for the baby and things for El. After a few minutes of El getting to hold our daughter, I cut the cord, and sat with her in my arms while El passed the placenta and they proceeded to clean her up. They did what they needed to do to care of El then I passed our little baby girl right back into mom’s arms.
The marathon was over. 44.5 hours since her water broke, 24 hours of labor, the last 4 of which was all hard pushing, and we were now parents. What followed next was phone calls, text messages, and pictures. When the dust settled, and we finally had the room to ourselves, we got to discussing names. We had already narrowed the girl options to Beatrice or Gwenevere (Guinevere). I was still torn, but El knew in her heart it was Beatrice. We looked over our list of middle names, and it all fell right into place. Beatrice Myrta Fish.
Be it in my kayak, off of a dock, or standing on the ice; no 21”, 8lb-13.5oz Fish will ever compare to the one I held in my arms in the hospital that day!
A Sweet Fishing Life 