Thursday, February 11, 2010

Labor tales: Part 3 (and the end)

Okay, I'll wrap this up.

I napped for a couple hours until they checked me again.

"She's right there!"

"There" meaning the crucial area, apparently. Nice work, Harps!

I assumed the position again, this time sans iPod. The music thing was not working for Team Cowan.

This time, pushing was a lot less sucky. Each push was actually making visible (though very small) progress, so I wasn't losing the will to live. Not that I saw any of this visible progress; I was asked muliple times if I wanted to "feel her" or "see her with a mirror" to which I always answered:


Now I sort of wish I had looked, but at the time it wasn't my thing, so - meh. It's probably for the best.

After another hour and 50 minutes of pushing, I was really close - but Harper just wasn't making her appearance. She can't help that her brain's so big! I was exhausted and my back was starting to seize up again. Up started the cliched GET THIS BABY  OUT OF ME's. It's all I could think. GET HER OUT.

The OB kept telling me to focus focus focus, but I was! And it wasn't the numbing of the epidural slowing us down, because I still had quite a bit of sensation in the...pushing area. If lady didn't come out in the next few pushes, they were bringing out the vacuum to suck her out.

"It only holds serious side effects for 1 to 3 percent of babies."

Clay and I look at each other. Not really fabulous odds?

So as a last ditch effort before busting out the Hoover, they cut me up a lovely (dun dun dun) episiotomy. Sigh. For those who don't know what this is, they gave me a quick slice to make more room for beefcake's exit. I was slightly bummed, but it proved the right move, because with one or two more BIG pushes...she was out!


A person! Just! Came out! Of me!

And it felt like it.

Clay, who had remained pretty quiet through the whole pushing process, holding my hand and focusing with me, saw her heading my way and went:

"Holy SHIT!"

It was awesome.

Soon she was up on my tummy, bluey and covered in cheese and quiet. Once the placenta slithered out, the umbilical cord had stopped pulsing (the one alternative birthing thing I was adamant on) and it was cut, little Harper June started crying and mugging and cuddling and cramming her way into our heart cavities for good.

I couldn't stop staring at her and then looking at Clay, staring at her and looking at Clay. I honestly couldn't believe it had all happened so "fast" (24 hours later) and she was suddenly here with us! Holy shit was right.

And then there were three. Snap!


  1. I love this! Harps' epic journey. Proud of you Amy - YOU JUST BIRTHED A HUMAN BEING! Not like you'd birth anything else, but SERIOUSLY!

  2. you're a superwoman, d'loof! i knew you'd rule!

    i agree with freaking pushed our a PERSON. i don't understand how it is done.

    (off to google this umblical cord thing. not sure i know about the pulsing?)

  3. Yep, they asked me if I wanted to touch his head when he was crowning and I was thanks. They also asked if I wanted to see the placenta. What is wrong with these people???

  4. Scariest comment? - "And it felt like it."
    Youch. I don't think I can handle that reality.

  5. thanks, ladies! it really is a strange, strange thing to have accomplished. whew! glad it's over with. (for this round at least...)

    @beth - i'm glad you felt the same way! they asked me if i wanted to see the placenta too???? WHY WOULD I WANT THAT. i did end up seeing it, laying there in a bucket, and kinda wanted to yack. can you believe peeps EAT IT?!

    @meredith - i didn't mean to scare! it's more just feel something HUGE come out in a big WHOOSH? not like it's the worst pain of all time. it's soooooo satisfying that it only feels like YES! you could totally handle it. :)

  6. ames... cry cry cry is all i can do. i love you - and your delicious nose clay, and perfect baby girl. can't wait to meet her.

  7. here i was, before leaving for class this morning, happily reading along with your little journey, bouncing my head side to side, "la la la la la," as i read...

    and THEN:

    "Once the placenta slithered out"



    oh, hai, my routine morning throw-up that i haven't dealt with in a couple of weeks. it is nice to meet you again since i am IMAGINE A PLACENTA SLITHERING AROUND.


    and i have another question.

    how disappointed is clay that your perineum is not in tact? did you have an appropriate mourning ceremony for it?

    love you. kisses. and i'm glad it's all over & she's hereeeee to stare at!


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.