My Birth Story … The Dad’s Version – Thursday

Part 2: Thursday

If you missed part one click HERE.

20 Hours in

So, here we were, 20 hours into our birth story and my wife and I were feeling encouraged! The frequency and duration of her contractions had increased. The app I had downloaded earlier also continued to feed us encouragement and so, feeling confident that progress was being made, we called the midwives.

The midwife I spoke with on the phone was Nicole. She asked me what Krista was doing. I told her that Krista was alternating between kneeling on the bed, leaning over the counter in the bathroom, and throwing up in the toilet. Nicole then asked me to ask Krista what her contractions felt like. Krista told me that they were extremely sharp, painful pains in her lower back.

“Oh, back labor” Nicole said, “does she feel any pain in her lower abdomen?”

“No”, I replied after asking Krista.

Side note: From what I gathered reading books, watching videos, and from our birth class, back labor is the least desirable of labors. It seems to me that it’s sort of like visiting your local Ford dealer with the intent of getting their worst car in the best trim (Fiesta ST), but ending up with the worst car in the worst trim (Fiesta S).

Ford, if you’re reading this, please send me either version (ST preferred).

Call the Midwives

Anyway, Nicole told me that she and another midwife, Carol, were coming over to assess Krista and that we should also contact our doula, Heidi.

I called Heidi and told her all the same things that I had told Nicole.

Another side note: Midwives always work in teams of three to make sure two of them can attend the birth. One midwife is always assigned to the mother and the other is assigned to the baby.

Heidi, Nicole, and Carol arrived at our place shortly before midnight. Heidi came with snacks, massage devices, heating pads and, best of all, a warm positive attitude which we desperately needed after so many hours of labor. Seriously, such a great Calgary Doula!

Nicole and Carol arrived with midwife things; you know, like, 3 raven feathers and a bottle of witch hazel. I’m joking, of course, but I know for a fact that this is how some people view the practice of midwifery. Such a misconception. Midwives are highly specialized in all aspects of the birthing process!

Right away, I could tell from their body language that they didn’t think our birthing process was very far along but they offered us comfort, encouragement and peace of mind by making sure that Krista and the baby were doing well.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Checking the blood pressure and heart rates for both mom and baby adds a certain level of comfort, but we all know that the real business in birthing is the cervix opening… I would come to hate those checks.

Carol checked Krista’s cervix and, unfortunately, it was still slammed shut! Or as she put it, “Still a ways to go, honey. This is all part of the process”.

Now, I’m sure its normal for the midwives to see this little progress over 22 hours of labor but, after reading so many birth stories, this news was deflating for us. So many women describe waking up, hopping out of bed, feeling some liquid on her legs, going to the hospital and, 8 hours later, a baby.

Carol suggested Heidi draw Krista a warm bath and that I get a little bit of rest. The midwives left instructing us to contact them if anything changed or if we needed them for support.

Get Some Rest

So I lay down in the spare room which is separated from the bathroom Krista was spending the majority of her time in by a 4-inch thick wall. Needless to say, the rest wasn’t all that productive.

I sort of just lay there switching between feelings of guilt, for even getting to pretend to relax, feelings of anxiety, wondering how much longer this would go on, and feelings of complete uselessness, wishing that I could somehow bear some of the pain and struggle my wife was going through. In any case, this wasn’t an ideal state of mind for rest.

After finding a way to rest for some amount of time, (possibly 3 hours?) Heidi came into the spare room and said that I should call the midwives again. I got up and went to the bathroom. Krista was in visibly more pain than she had been when I saw her last. She was growling and clawing at her back during every contraction, which were coming every 4 minutes and lasting for over a minute. I consulted with my app which informed me that, if we weren’t almost to the hospital, to call 911.

I called the midwives again.

This time, when I spoke to the midwives I added guilt to my list of feelings. I don’t know why but I started to feel like our birth was becoming a nuisance to our midwives. They did absolutely nothing to make me feel that way; it’s just how I felt.

Anyway, I told them that Krista was feeling a tremendous amount of pain and wanted them to come back. So Nicole and Carole got back out of bed and drove to our house.

I’m Coming Undone

When they arrived, I apologized for the situation as though I had any control over it. They told me that visits during the night are normal with birthing. They stated that because oxytocin levels are naturally higher during the night, a lot of babies are born during this time (I didn’t bother to fact check).

Once again, they checked both Krista and the baby. They found that both heart rates were good, that Krista’s blood pressure was good and that her cervix was thinning, but still completely closed. I didn’t even know it was possible to be deflated any further, but I was.

We Need Relief

By this point, Krista hadn’t slept in 26 hours so I asked Carol what our options were. She suggested a small dose of painkillers to help her get some rest. I had reservations about going down this path because I was aware of the risks that it posed to both Krista and the baby, however, Carol and Nicole talked me through it and, ultimately, left the decision to us.

Krista was in favor of the painkillers and I came around to the idea, but it meant that we had to drive to the hospital since they couldn’t be administered at home.

When we got to the hospital, we went right into triage. At 6 in the morning on a Thursday, there were some interesting people in there and, of course, we could hear everything going on with them. One lady was having a baby but was also high as a kite on crystal meth. Another lady was having a baby and screamed as loud as she could during every contraction.

Nicole new What we Needed

Nicole was the midwife that was going to give Krista a dose of morphine to help her relax and hopefully get some sleep. Unfortunately, though, we first had to go through a gauntlet of checks to make sure the baby and Krista were in perfect condition. This took a long time and only added to our frustration. At times, the tension was thick between Nicole and us. Nevertheless, Nicole showed us patience when needed and was a stern voice of reason when needed and I respected that about her. She was there to make sure both Krista and the baby were healthy and refused to deviate from her plan of double checking everything.

When all the tests were cleared, Krista received a dose of morphine and we went home to rest.

Now What?

When we got home, we both just lay in bed not knowing what to think.

We had already been through so much and there wasn’t any real end in sight. We talked about stuff that I can’t quite remember. I do remember that it was nice. We would both fall asleep for a few minutes between contractions. When the next one would come along and wake us up, I would massage Krista’s lower back for the duration of the contraction and then we would sleep again. This went on for several hours.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep and missed some contractions, but I woke up to find Krista on her hands and knees on the bed, humming, eyes closed, making small circles with her body. She seemed to be in a good place so I remained still and quiet so as not to disturb her.

Eventually we started talking and, with the sun having just come up and shining cheerfully through the window, we decided that we were ready to have our baby today.

Our spirits had been lifted and we felt the strength to move through this process and begin the next chapter of our lives as a family of 3.

Even though Thursday had only just begun, I’ll take a break here and finish the story in Part 3.

Back to Part 1

My Birth Story … The Dad’s Version – Wednesday

Part 1: Wednesday

Around 2am Wednesday morning, March 2nd, 2016, my wife nudged me in bed and said, “I’m in labor!” Astoundingly, our beautiful baby boy, Benjamin, wasn’t born until Friday, March 4th, 2016 at 7pm … Settle in and pour yourself a cup of coffee. This is a long story.

We Planned and Planned

The months leading up to our “guess date”, we got as prepared as we could. I don’t call it a “due date” because, statistically speaking, not many births happen on the due date. So what happens if you go past it? Unnecessary stress! Here are some numbers:

“Normally, women are given a date for the likely delivery of their baby calculated as 280 days after the onset of their last menstrual period. Yet only four percent of women deliver at 280 days and only 70% deliver within 10 days of their estimated due date, even when the date is calculated with the help of ultrasound.” * 

Prior to our guess date, we did all the recommended things. We went to birth classes, got a midwife, and hired a doula. Okay, I guess we did all the things Ricki Lake recommended in the documentary, Business Of Being Born. Her ideas jived with us and, after eating a hot dog and fries while buying a poorly made side table from IKEA, we were feeling very Swedish (75% of births are attended by midwives in Sweden **

Dad Planning

The preparation didn’t stop there. Skimming through books like The Birth Partner and What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I read a book about what the first days with our baby would be like and books about how not to mess up our kid mentally in the first 10 minutes of knowing him. I glanced at my wife’s computer screen from time to time, seeing one of the hundreds of birth videos she was watching … It went on and on.

We ate at IKEA

We met with our doula and wrote down our birth wishes. Our wish was to give birth naturally at home, or at IKEA. Either way, it just had to feel Swedish. It’s called a birth wish, because calling it a “plan” can lead to regret and depression if things don’t go according to “plan”. We, of course, remained logical about the idea of having a home birth. Our midwives were especially trained to handle any birth issues and there was a room held for us at the hospital close to our home, should the need arise.

Maybe all this preparation somehow helped but nothing could prepare me for the emotional, mental, and physical (mostly my wife on this one) turmoil that comes with delivering a baby.

Okay, What Happened Already?

Okay, so, after my wife told me that she was in labor at 2 am on Wednesday morning, I mostly just fell back asleep. Not because I’m evil, but just because I’ve trained myself to fall back asleep quickly after my wife tells me something in the middle of the night.

You see, my wife likes to lie in bed at night and think about stuff going on in her life. I, on the other hand, try to think of nothing. Often, I’m woken up with comments like, “Do you even watch Netflix? We should cancel it.” Or “I wish we lived on acreage.”

Anyway, for the rest of that night (Wednesday morning), I slept while my wife laid in bed thinking about the day(s) to come.

There’s an app for That

When I woke up, things were still quite upbeat as we shared our excitement over the reality that we’d be meeting our baby boy soon. I had time to make a coffee, make breakfast and download an app for my phone that would make counting contractions easier.

The contractions were making progress but we tried to keep our mind off of them as much as we could. We went for a walk and had a bath. This is all recommended during early labor.

It just so happened that we had a midwife appointment that day at noon. So, the contractions, walking and bathing continued until then. We called the midwives and they determined that we were fine to come in to the clinic.

The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

When we got to the clinic, the midwives decided to check my wife’s cervix. For those who don’t know what a cervix is, its a magical door that needs to open for the baby to come out. Think “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe”. On one side of the door is your normal pre-baby life. On the other side of the door is a mystical, dream-like world filled with bright colors (kids toys) and weird creatures (hallucinations from sleep deprivation).

The cervix starts out closed and gradually (and from what I hear – unpleasantly), opens to around 10 cm. This is when the pushing starts and the baby makes his grand debut.
The midwife checked and before she said a single word, we knew that we weren’t going to like the news. No progress. After 10 hours of pre-labor, my wife’s cervix was still closed shut. So deflating!

Our midwife reassured us that this was fine but wanted us to get an ultrasound to make sure the baby was in the correct, head down position. The ultrasound revealed that our baby was head down, but looking towards my wife’s right hip.

So we went home.

So we Laboured

As the afternoon and evening progressed, so did the frequency and duration of my wife’s contractions. I continued to consult the app I had downloaded earlier and was provided with useful advice like “Make sure your bags are packed to leave for the hospital at any moment” and “Your baby will be arriving shortly”.

Feeling quite encouraged by the app and the now 20 hours of labor that had passed, we called our doula and midwife to get further advice…

Continue to Part 2: Thursday

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* https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/08/130806203327.htm

** http://www.who.int/pmnch/media/membernews/2011/2011_sowmr_en.pdf

Dads Don’t Cry … Well I Do.

Dads Cry
We all suffer when Benny gets sad.

We Need a New Way of Thinking

When I first was becoming a dad a lot of thoughts seemed to float around in my head about what it meant to be a dad. So as I do with most questions, I checked the internet.

A quick search of dictionary.com and this is what came up?! Wow.

Definition of a dad

As you can see, this is what is wrong with how we view men and dads … “having or displaying no emotion, sympathy, or sensitivity” … no longer current, relevant, or important” … I am not sure how “passed on/away, expired, departed, gone, no more” fits in but I think you get the point.

(side note: yes yes … I know I didn’t search the correct word. I like to make jokes and I am trying to make a point about a bigger subject … so bear with me.)

Growing up a Man

Growing up I felt the pressure from my parents and peers to show as little emotion as possible. A number of times I heard, “don’t cry, “man up” and “why are you so cool” … okay, one of those was made up … but you get it.

Around the time Benjamin was about to be born, someone gave me a couple of books to read called, ‘Raising Emotionally Healthy Boys’, by Michael Reist and ‘Tough Guys Have Feelings Too’, by Keith Negley.

I could babble on about what I thought the book was saying, but the except by Michael Reist does a far better job than I could ever do …

“From a very young age, boys are socialized to hide their emotions. Girls, on the other hand, are encouraged to learn a much broader range of emotional expression. The long-term repercussions of this imbalance are profound.

Many of the problems we face, both as a society and as a species, are directly affected by how we raise our boys. We are all products of nature and nurture combined. The conscious and unconscious lessons we give our children often enhance and improve their human natures, but can sometimes degrade them, too.”

Humans are … Human and Dads Cry?

Okay, so maybe you don’t agree with the dramatic repercussions society is facing from not allowing boys and men to have feelings … but as someone who has lived most of their life as a man … wait what … I can attest to the differences and knew the trend in my family would stop with me.

By the time I read these books, I knew that we were having a baby boy. I also knew that as much as I was going to provide the essentials of life to Benjamin, I was also going to try my best to allow him to have an emotionally healthy upbringing.

Now don’t get me wrong, when Benjamin is having big feelings I get the urge to sweep both his feelings and my feelings about his feeling under the rug and wrestle in some mud in our underwear … I hope you didn’t get confused because I am always confused, what’s sleep again? …

So What Should I Do?

So what does all this mean in terms of not being a dead dad? Well, first I try to create an emotionally safe home … I will not ridicule or shame my child for having feelings. It also means that I will be honest when I have made a mistake in parenting … good thing that won’t happen!

Second, I will not try to rush or hide my child’s feelings because they make me uncomfortable. For instance, a tantrum in a public place can be quite embarrassing. The peering eyes and judgment of parents and 15-year old employees at Toy’R’Us. But instead of shaming or rushing my child’s feeling away, I will try to remain a calm and supportive parent … until the 15-year olds call the cops, then we are out of there!

Finally and what I think is the most simple, I will treat my child with the love and respect that any human being deserves. When Benjamin came into our lives, he may have arrived with limited understanding of normal sleeping hours and completely limited understanding of computer coding … I heard Bill Gates could program before age 13, so I tried to beat that by setting Benjamin up at the computer at 13 days old … he just threw up on my computer …

Anyway, Benjamin may not have been able to do any of those things, but one thing was for certain he was a perfect tiny human. Not some thing we had, but an actual tiny human being. And again, from being a human for most of my life … What? I don’t get it either … I know that I prefer to be heard, have an input, and treated with respect … what human doesn’t want that?