WHAT REALLY HAPPENS DURING LABOR

After going off the air since October 8th when my wife was knee deep in labor, I am able to return to DadsDecoded.com and continue my learnings as a new father in search of answers to be a better dad.

Looking back at my last post, it’s surreal to see where my head was at and what actually happened in the delivery room.

As you may remember, after 3 1/2 hours of Valerie trying to endure and work with induced contractions, the nurses were relieved to hear Valerie say she would accept an epidural. And within 20 minutes she was doing so much better. She could once again carry on a conversation, smile and even eat lemon ice from a cup.

And then night turned into morning. And then the afternoon followed. Still, the contractions were not powerful enough to help the baby descend. And as the afternoon begin to see the sun set again from our picturesque MGH window view, 32 hours after labor had begun, Valerie had finally dilated to the point where the final push could begin. It was 5:00pm. We all hoped it might take an hour but the truth is, most first time pregnancies can go for as long as 3 hours. Well, I just figured my red-headed Irish wife wasn’t like most women and we’d birth this baby in one hour. All I can say is, all the hours of birthing classes and birthing videos wouldn’t prepare me for what I was about to witness.

The nurse began to explain to Valerie how she was supposed to push. The idea was to wait until a contraction began to build. As it builds, her job was to take a deep breath then push with all her might. Then do it two more times in the course of the 40-60 second contraction. Then rest up for the next contraction which could come within 2 minutes of the last one.

And so the first contraction began to build. And Valerie took a deep breath and started her push. My eyes got huge. I’ve never seen my wife in so much pain as she gathered her strength and pushed. My adrenaline started to rush and I wondered, “What the hell can I do to help my wife? Shit, look at her trying so hard.” And the nurse coached her, reminding her that this was the real deal.

And with that, I remembered the breathing exercises from class, the hypnotherapy classes I took as a college student, and even the coaching from my tennis days. At that moment I decided to become my wife’s personal breathing coach.

The next contraction was starting and she was no longer breathing alone as I was there to breathe with her. I told her to take a deep breath and then to push with purpose. To push with a focus of where that baby was coming out. She gulped in a fresh breath of air and began to push. She turned red, her eyes closed, she grimaced and pushed with more might. I told her to focus. To be strong. She let out the last of her breath and sucked in another and pushed again. I was six inches from her face telling her to do it for Conor. It was time for him to come out. She pushed like a mother does when she’d do anything for her child.

The last of her air escaped like a hurricane on crack and she quickly sucked in another breath. I reminded her it was the last push and then she got to take a break. She started the next push. And I whispered to her that she was a strong woman and could do this. I told her I believed in her and was right there with her. As she began to run out of air, the nurse told her to hold it. I told her to give Conor that extra bit of air. She kept pushing beyond her comfort zone. And then I told her to let it go. She started to cry but I knew that crying would take her out of the zone. And she was definitely in the zone like I’ve never seen her before. So I quickly told her, “That was great honey. You’re in control of your breathing. Slow it down now. Slow it down. This is your time. This is your time to relax. That was Conor’s time. Now it’s your time. You get to relax. Slow those breath’s down now.” And Valerie, as a great athlete listens to her coach, slowed her breaths down. And when I asked her to take a deep breath to increase the calming affect, she did so with great control and authority.

And the next contraction began to build. She would whisper ever so softly, “Here it comes,” and the nurse would get down where she could see things and start her coaching which would set me into motion six inches from her face. I would say, “Okay, your time is now Conor’s time. You need to push and get that boy out of there. It’s time. And she would take her breath and push with meaning. I would say, “Focus that breath. That breath has a purpose. Be strong. Push, Push, Push, Valerie. Good. Let it out. Take another big breath and let’s do it again.” And again, she would grab a big breath out of the air and use it for herself, focusing it downwards where the baby needed to come out. And I would tell her kindly, “Push, push, push. Be strong, be strong Val.” Earlier in her pregnancy, Valerie had told me that her name means, “healthy and strong” so I had tucked this phrase away knowing I would use it on this day so that this as a private bonding word that would give her extra strength for the most important moment of her life and that of our first son.

It worked with more meaning than I could imagine. She dug extra deep. Again, it was time to rest. Again, Valerie needed to cry from the excruciating effort she was asked to muster. I never took a break from my job as coach. Just as in the moments of pushing, the moments of relaxing were coached by me. I reminded her to stay in control even as she relaxed. To take deep breaths. Get rid of the old air and breath in fresh air. Out with old, in with the new. Slow. Deliberate. Relax. This is her time. The other breaths were Conor. These breaths were for her. Every breath is renewed strength. In just a few breaths she would have the exact amount of strength as when we started. I told her she was not getting tired but getting stronger.

Well, this repetition went on for 3 hours without fail. The clock was directly above her head so I watched every minute roll by as I hovered over her bed. My back hurt. My feet hurt. I was concerned from the lack of progress made by Conor coming down the birth canal. I was devastated at the pain endured by my wife. But my focus never waivered.

Our nurse, Susan was excited by the intensity of the process and at some point invited me to look at the progress of Valerie’s efforts and I will admit that in spite of my brother instructing me not to “look south or else you’ll faint,” I looked to see my son’s head and hair not far from this world. He was getting close to being born. This caused me renewed vigor to coach my wife into breathing with determination and focus. And she responded like few people would do. And remained in the zone as she had done with her first breath over three hours ago.

Finally, the doctor came in to see how close the baby was to birth. Her news was not good. We all took a break to hear her description of the situation. She reported that the baby had moved into the birth canal but had not come down far enough for her to use other techniques to coax the baby out. She was getting concerned. She asked Valerie if she was ready to call it quits. She said that most women who had pushed for three hours were ready to give up and she would recommend that we strongly consider doing the same.

Valerie said that she wanted to give birth without surgery if at all possible. The doctor looked exasperated but wanted to be true to Valerie’s wishes, too. She was clearly concerned and was trying to balance the safety of the baby and the wishes of Valerie. She took about 10 seconds to think it over. She then said that her staff was leaving the room for two minutes and for Valerie and I to talk it over. But to realize the health of the baby would soon be at stake. Val wanted to ask her another question as the doctor began to leave but the doctor turned around sternly and said, “You have two minutes to think this over. It’s your decision but I won’t put this baby in danger. Time starts now,” and with that she turned on her heels pulling the nurses out with her. I was surprised at the doctor’s attitude but realized she was sending the body language to us that this was serious and that bedside manner be damned.

Valerie and I were left with deep questions to answer that affected the life of our baby and the health of Valerie. I first asked Val what she wanted to do after hearing the doctor’s recommendations. Valerie said it meant so much to her to have a ‘traditional birth’ that she didn’t want to have her baby surgically removed. I told her that she had been strong. That she had been brave. That I loved her so so much for everything she had done to bring our baby into this world. And if she wanted to try for a little longer that I would back her. But that if she was ready to get this whole ordeal over with that I would back the decision to have a c-section. She said it would mean a long recovery and she might not be able to care for the baby like she planned. I told her I would take up all the slack and that she would never have to worry about the baby being taken care of. She said if the baby’s health wasn’t at risk, that she’d like a little more time to push. I asked her if she had the strength to do it. She said she was ready. I called the nurse back in.

We told the nurse if our baby wasn’t in danger and could safely take another series of pushes that we wanted to keep trying but not at the expense of our baby’s health. The doctor was surprised. “You want to keep trying even after 3 hours of intense pushing, Valerie? I’m telling you, no one’s going to blame you for giving up after 3 hours.” Valerie looked at the doctor and said, “I’m not giving up. I want more time. I can do this.” The doctor was impressed and shook her head with appreciation. “I’ll give you 1/2 an hour more time, Valerie. We can do that much safely. After that, if there’s no change in Conor’s progress, I’m taking over the decision making, okay?” We both whole heartedly agreed to give her the last say after this.

And the pushing began again. The coaching started anew. And this time, Valerie didn’t cry between pushes. Instead, she gathered her wits, her breaths and her courage. And pushed with a determination to which I never knew she had. I call it the American pioneer woman spirit. I was always impressed with how the female pioneers of America would cross the country in a wagon or walking and do so without whining, crying or collapsing. They would give birth along the way, endure starvation, go weeks without a bath and walk in dirty clothes and crappy shoes. I like a beautiful woman as much as the next man but I like to know my wife has what it takes to survive if the time ever demanded it. My wife in this last half hour proved to me that I had married a woman who was 100% woman when times allowed and had that pioneer spirit when that was asked of her.

After 1/2 hour went by, the doctor glanced at the clock and studied Valerie’s determination. And with renewed interest began to coax Val to push as hard as she ever had pushed in her whole life. And as Valerie pushed, the doctor showed excitement and my adrenaline began to pump even more as I saw her interest in what was happening. After 50 minutes, the doctor told us all to take a break. She then pulled off her gloves and gave us the latest; “Valerie, you’ve been pushing for another 50 minutes and while you’ve done everything I’ve asked you to do and your pushing was textbook perfect, Conor’s just not coming down the birth canal. I can’t tell you why he’s not. I only know he’s not moving. Maybe he’s too big. Maybe he’s positioned in a way that not right with how your pelvis is shaped. But it’s time to get Conor out of there now. We’re going to do a c-section and we’re doing it right now. The baby is still safe right now. His heart rate has not changed. He’s taking all this in stride. Let’s get him out of there before we have any sort of surprises.

I’m going to get ready and the nurse is going to explain what’s going to happen next. Next time I see you, you’ll have a brand new baby boy. And with that, she turned and left.

(SEE NEXT BLOG FOR WHAT HAPPENS NEXT)

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