Hazel's Birth Story - Part Two

If you missed part one, check it out before reading on.

Finally, they got busy and had me in a room as quickly as possible. 

And not just any room, a water birth room that boasted a queen-sized bed and corner jetted tub in the spacious bathroom.

 

I paced and labored, labored and paced.  Unlike my last experience (in a different state), no one bothered me with stupid questions like, "for the 5th time, what is your DOB?  Sorry the computer keeps prompting me for it."  Nope.  Not this time.

Did they try to strap me down to a bed with the explanation of having to constantly monitor baby as routine?  Nope.  I was intermittently monitored with a portable device.

Was I given an iv?  Nope.  Surely at least a hep lock?  Nope!  I was instead offered juice and water and enjoyed the luxury of drinking and using the restroom whenever I saw fit.

The midwife and nurse literally said to me, "It's your baby and your birth.  You can do whatever you want."  And then they left, checking in occasionally.

It was hard to believe I was in a hospital. 

So I walked around, casually chatting with my husband between contractions. (My mom was out keeping the girls entertained and running back to the house to get my husband's forgotten glasses.  His contacts were killing him.)  Part of our conversation focused on how amazed and thankful we were in regards to how well we were being treated.  For the first time in my childbearing years, I was treated as an adult woman who knows her body (laboring or not), capable of making decisions in regards to birth rather than being treated as yet another medical emergency.   As a side note, I don't get too caught up in the "natural childbirth club," but I must say that being treated with such respect was very empowering.

They had drawn me a bath, so I decided to try it out.  However, the relief was so great that I felt I wasn't progressing as quickly in the water, so I got out.  Eventually, I asked to be checked again because I am a curious sort of person, even while in labor.  It was 10 or 11 p.m. by then, and I was dilated to 8 cm.

This is me at about 8 cm oogling over a tiny diaper and hat:

I felt pretty good, and continued just chatting away with my husband, and trying to resist his tempting coffee.  He must have been on his second or third cup, and it smelled wonderful.  I opted for my cranberry juice instead. My contractions were finally getting closer together.  5 minutes, then 2- 3 minutes.  It seemed like transition was coming quickly, and my discomfort was growing, so I got back in the tub.  

As soon as the water enveloped me, the strangest thing happened.  The contractions immediately slowed and became sporadic.  7 minutes, 2 minutes, 5 minutes.  As odd as it was, it was also quite relieving.  By this point, I was sure that our baby would be born on her due date, the 5th, as midnight was right around the corner.

Read the rest of the story, Part Three.