Margaret June, The Birth Story

Margaret June

The extremely long and detailed birth story. 

Her labor began so gently. 

And ended in a storm. 

It was Bible study day with my sisters-in-law at my mother-in-laws; our main outing and highlight of the week. 

As I sat on the couch I had a contraction mid conversation that interrupted my thought process, not notable enough to stop my conversing, but noticeable enough it stopped my mind; could be the start of labor, I thought. Fifteen minutes later, same thing. For two hours I had the same experience, 8 contractions total, never enough that I couldn’t continue life, but real enough that I knew it was going to be labor, unless it’s false labor, which is always my go to fear and thought. 

I texted Wesley. 

    ‘I do feel like I could be going into labor but we’ll see what happens when I get up and move. Suddenly I’ve been having really painful contractions just sitting doing nothing’

I gathered kids, it was time to head home anyways. Disrupted timeline but still contracting. I joked on my way out the door that I was having some contractions, maybe I’d have the baby tonight, realistically feeling like that would be too nice, this felt slow and gentle. 

On the drive home I had a contraction and knew knew, this is labor, ironically when I went into labor with Ozella I was on a similar drive home and had the same experience on that stretch of road. 

I got home, Wesley was working on dinner, I debated with him how seriously to take this stage, it hasn’t been long enough for me to have progressed, the last two who came SO fast after labor started had given me a good day of prodromal labor ahead of time, no surprise my body was ready, this time I’d had prodromal labor for a few hours a night for the last two nights, not enough to do much. BUT, the midwives would rather be here too long than not long enough…

I texted with Shay ‘have you let the midwives know? ….as in you should..’ 

No.. but I’m going to..

We had dinner, I decided to go change into comfier clothes, it’s labor, yes, I’ll call the midwives. Wesley came up to be sure I was in fact calling the midwives.

I let Barb know if she comes now it’ll probably be at least a few hours, maybe way more, it really was early early labor, but better early than too late, right? Right. 

My first notable contraction was somewhere around 3:00, the first ‘this will be labor’ contraction was close to 5. Midwife eta: 7:49. 

Once I called the midwife I verified with my mom that I had decided I was in labor and I’d called the midwife. My mom said “oh wow” so I assumed my mom thought it was too early.. and she had false labor on her #8 and called the midwife too soon… maybe I was about to follow suit..

Shay again..

‘You should call the midwife though’ 

So I let her know I did but if it peters out and I’m wrong, I’ll never call the midwives again.

I let my mother-and-sister-in-law text group know, I said I’d find out once the midwives arrived if it’s labor and get an idea on progress to know when they could expect actual updates. 

Contractions continued, mild enough to question how much, if any, progress I was making, but strong enough and regular enough to believe they were doing something. 

For this baby I had a whole party attending; my mom, Wesley’s mom, one of my best friends who is 6 weeks away from her own first baby, our family photographer offered to photograph our birth for free - her first homebirth experience, and our own kids. I had been planning and hoping for the beautiful quick “easy” version of birth I had had last time, that’s the birth everyone should experience and normalize, I imagined no cervical checks, no pushing, just me peacefully laboring, eventually knowing it was time, and breathing my baby earthside; I’d done this before. 

Barb arrived. 

“I’d like to be checked, see if I’m progressing at all so I know when to call people to come. If it’s anything more than 3, I’ll be happy.”

Wesley joked with her that she’d better at least tell me 3 then. 

 “7-8, stretchy to complete”

How? I felt like I’d just had a handful of contractions, most of them I could ignore, only every few contraction made me cry and want to run away and hide. One contraction made me hit the wall and cry “I don’t want to do this again Wesley, WHY do I keep doing this to myself?!” Shouldn’t all my contractions feel that way if I were making such progress? 

Now I was worried everyone wouldn’t have time to arrive, once complete my babies usually arrive. 

I decided I should lay down and wait it out, maybe rest. Turns out that was a mistake. While I lay there I felt the baby roll, instantly I knew her position had changed too much, she suddenly felt posterior, too high, I had no contractions. I asked the midwives how likely it is to stall labor even once complete: possible, but I shouldn’t worry, baby will still come, it doesn’t matter to them how long they’re waiting. 

But it matters to me, I always have a labor timeline in my head, as much as I preach that every labor is different, you should let your body take its time, I don’t believe it, I believe if I do all the “right” things I can predict and except exactly what I want. Turns out, I can’t. 

The mom’s were here, my friend, the photographer almost.. 

I got up and started to walk, hopefully I could make contractions start again, and they did, slowly, here and there, if I were moving. Something about this contraction pattern felt different and discouraging, I may be close to complete but I didn’t feel close to breathing a baby out, the baby didn’t even feel low, for a contraction she would, and then I felt as if she just floated back away, out of reach, beyond hope of exiting. The baby was somewhat posterior, if I could get her to move up and turn maybe I’d get more productive contractions. I did forward incline, no contractions, I gave up, I guess contractions and birthing a baby in a wonky position was better than stalled completely. 

Pacing the hallway, eventually a contraction, willing it to be doing something more than it felt like it was. 

I decided to see what would happen if I consciously pushed during a contraction, maybe I could make myself birth a baby if I were complete; it felt wrong, the baby felt far away. 

I just kept pacing the hallway to cause contractions, every once in awhile one felt worthy of labor and progress. Finally for a few contractions in a row I felt pushy, although it wasn’t the involuntary urge I’m used to having, just so much pressure, higher and in my backside instead of at the pubic bone like I’ve typically felt. I decided to push, forget breathing the baby out, I was done and I wanted this baby NOW. 

I pushed standing and knew I felt too weak and exhausted, I wasn’t going to breathe the baby out like usual, I wasn’t even going to be able to stand like usual. 

Wesley supported my weight for me for a few contractions while I pushed but it still wasn’t enough support. The birth stool was mentioned, I’ve never felt comfortable on them but maybe this time. 

We tried. Not great but better than before, the contractions were less powerful feeling again though but I didn’t care, this baby was exiting, contractions or not. 

I vividly remember screaming at the baby “come OUT baby. You HAVE to come OUT!!” 

Pray for a contraction, pray this would be the one. Pray the baby out. This was the least peaceful I have felt in the last several births, I think Margaret’s exit was fueled mostly by anger. 

When pushing still didn’t feel productive like I’d expected I asked Barb to check while I pushed, maybe she could identify the problem, hung up by the cord? Hand up? Something was different this time. 

With the next contraction she said she could feel a lip, the baby’s head just wasn’t descending well, she predicted a hand up by her face keeping her chin from tucking causing the uneven pressure and a lip. 

I’ve had cervical lips before, before I “knew what I was doing” and would have my baby in the right position ahead of time. Oh well. 

I knew the options: stop pushing, labor in different positions to adjust the head and pressure, or have her manually hold and stretch the lip while I pushed through it. 

“Hold the lip back, just hold it for me, I’ll push anyways.” 

No calm easy labor, no standing, no breathing baby out; go ahead and intervene, I’m done. 

I didn’t even know if I was contracting any more, I just pushed. It burned, it hurt, it felt horrible; it felt like birth. It wasn’t the beautiful raw involuntary birth I hoped for;  it was intentional, painful, angry birth, and somehow they feel different and the same. 

Barb:

 ‘11:14 ROM’ (rupture of membranes). 

 head

 shoulders 

 ‘11:16, baby’

“I did it, Wesley, I did it”

I didn’t even open my eyes, I just held the baby placed in my arms. 

“Did someone say it’s a boy?”

No, they just referred to it as a he out of habit. 

I opened my eyes, ‘can we see? Is it a boy?’ And everyone helped position the baby so I could see. It was a girl, Ramona’s longed for Margaret June was here. 

She did have her hand up, tucked under her chin, head tilted back, and a nuchal cord, making me work hard for her delivery. 

And I wish that’s where this birth story ended, but it didn’t. 

I had my pitocin shot, active management. 

Everything transitioned away from my anger fueled delivery, I moved to bed, held my baby, kids peeked at her asking when we could cut the cord. Midwives dismantled the birth room, gathering supplies. 

Jerusha cut the cord, Sam weighed and measured her, final pictures were taken, Bre the photographer left. Shay on FaceTime called it a night. Jennifer headed home, Ashley too. Wesley put kids to bed, my mom helped clean. I went and tried to pee, a couple small clots, everything seemed okay. I lay in bed, little Meg latched well, the midwives gave us cytotec instructions, my uterus wasn’t continuing to react well, without constant massaging it was getting soft again, if I wanted to avoid taking the cytotec I needed to constantly massage it; I felt like that was worth it, first of all, cytotec’s side effects are awful, second, intervention, can’t my body do better this time?

No. No it couldn’t. 

After we were all set up with instructions and a plan Wesley went to fix me toast and I asked Barb to go ahead and take me to try and pee again, that way she could also reassess the bleeding one more time before they left. 

On my way to the bathroom I felt blood clots filling the chucks pad, I sat on the toilet, more clots, a steady stream of blood. Barb asking if I was peeing. 

‘No, it’s blood’

And then my body started to go into panic. 

“I don’t need toast, I need Wesley. I just need Wesley.” I think my body felt like I was dying, I was fixated on seeing Wesley before that happened. I closed my eyes and the world in front me was like a snow covered scape, everything was shining and glittery, bright, peaceful, calm perfection, and then from somewhere my body reminded me I couldn’t leave, I just had a baby, she needs me, and I didn’t see Wesley yet.

“Haley, are you with us?” Barb

Then I was on the bathroom floor, Wesley standing above me, midwives administering more pitocin, taking my blood pressure, discussing calling 911, prepping to try for an IV. 

My blood pressure was 60/40 my veins nearly nonexistent, they couldn’t get the needle in for an IV. 

I started to revive, I wasn’t about to transfer to the hospital, I know that’s what it’s there for but if I could just will myself better maybe I could stay home. I asked to be carried back to bed if I were stable enough. The pitocin was working again, my bleeding currently managed, cytotec also administered for longer term management. Barb really wanted an IV in to add TXA to the mix to keep my blood clotting on top of keeping my uterus contacting. 911 was called, Barb was confident they could do an IV, even if that meant transferring, that was my best option to control the situation. 

Okay, but maybe they’ll do that and let me stay home, I hoped. 

My blood pressure was coming back up, they carried me to bed. 

EMT’s arrived and checked my vitals, BP 100/60, HR 91, oxygenation 100%, things were looking up. 

Paramedics arrived and rechecked everything, I was stable, they agreed that if I had TXA the situation was safe. Barb began administering the TXA, the panic and fear subsided, it looked like I was going to be okay, we thanked all the first responders; it is humbling to have called them at all, but a relief that they showed up quickly and worked so kindly with my desires and the midwives input; in the end I am beyond grateful that they didn’t have to take me to the hospital though. 

Why do I continue to struggle with hemorrhaging?

This oddly mild labor pattern didn’t help. The uterus NEEDS to have those strong powerful contractions during labor to keep it going afterwards. Maybe it is because my babies are “too close together” maybe my uterus is tired, or maybe the baby’s position threw my whole labor off. Maybe the cord caused her distress and she came ahead of my body being ready. 

Birth comes with a lot of unknowns. 

We do know though that once again the Lord was gentle and merciful to us, gracious beyond words. Our little one is here, safe and healthy, and that’s a grace never to be taken for granted.