Elizabeth's Birth Story - Part 2

Baby Ethington was due on the 29th of June, 2010. Every book under the sun says that the first baby tends to cook a little longer than normal, so I was expecting an early-July delivery (even though I was still gunning for a solstice launch). Catherine thought she would come just a little before the due date. Needless to say, neither of us was expecting any surprises on the 16th of June. In fact, I hadn’t even posted a delivery stats poll on our blog or taken Catherine’s “full-term” glamour shots.

Back to the story. I discovered an ironic twist when I pulled the sheets off of the bed. Catherine had laid mattress pads and towels down on her side of the bed in case of a ruptured membrane. Not 15 minutes before the actual rupture did she move to my side of the bed. Appreciating the irony, and settling into a blissful state of shock, I grabbed the camera and took a picture.

From there, I wasn’t really sure what to do. Every once in a while I would hear Catherine giggle in the shower and express her excitement that this moment had finally arrived. I opened up the book, “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” to figure out if we needed to go to the hospital right away, or if Catherine could get some sleep through early labor and go in the next morning. We determined that a call to Oasis Hospital might be the best approach. I made the call and reached an Arabic receptionist. I told her, “my wife is pregnant and her water just broke!” I was expecting some words of encouragement or congratulations, but instead she deadpanned in her thick Arabic accent and said, “she must come in immediately.”

Well, that settles that. We had the hospital bag all ready to go from weeks before, but there were still a few things to grab before being fully prepared. Though excited at the notion of finally becoming parents, I tried to remain calm and composed to keep Catherine feeling cool. It was only when she told me that I was just acting really weird that I took a deep breath and attempted to be normal. I was surprised by how unusually calm and cool we both were, considering the circumstances. We packed our things, Catherine ate the second half of a peanut butter sandwich, and I took some last minute pregnancy photos. I was feeling some serious self-pity for deciding against a bowl of chocolate muesli around 10:00 PM, but we had some Nature Valley granola bars at the ready for just such a miscalculation. Yayussss!

One last thing before we headed off to the hospital – a priesthood blessing for Catherine. The Lord spoke peace to our hearts and minds as Catherine was reminded that this would be a painful but spiritual experience, and most importantly, she and baby would be protected and safe.

And so, Catherine and I loaded up the car with our bag, computer, camera, video camera, and yoga ball. Yes, a yoga ball. Oasis Hospital is less than two miles from our house in downtown Al Ain. We arrived at the Birthing Center just after 12:00 AM and began the registration process. There were several deliveries going on that night/morning, so we were immediately moved to a curtained-off “room” where we would go through the first stage of labor (at least until Catherine reached 3 or 4 cm). Catherine’s cervix was at an immature 1 cm and limited effacement at the first check. So slow? Hot dangit!

Okay, so of course we’re naïve and green about all this labor stuff, but that didn’t stop Catherine and I from coming to the hospital loaded with birthing preference and baby care documents to share with all the staff. The gist of the documents was, “Please don’t interrupt me, make noise, ask me about pain, or offer me any drugs, and leave my baby alone when she gets here.” I just about flipped my lid when the head Obstetrician said she would need to induce Catherine if there wasn’t sufficient progress by 5:00 AM. Our midwife, Rita, was a great advocate for us and promised to help us proceed as we had planned.

5:00 AM. The new goal. Catherine and I weren’t really certain where to start. Should she sleep to get some needed rest before things got really serious at the risk of slowing her labor, or should she walk around and exert herself to progress sufficiently by 5:00 AM? We decided to take a walk through the Shaikh Zayed Majlis while we were strategizing the game plan. Catherine was starting to experience the contractions more regularly, so we slowly paced the halls of the Hospital until around 2:30 in the morning. Catherine was drained, I was loopy, so we changed back to the sleep-for-energy plan.

Failure. Even with Catherine’s super earthy HypnoBabies “Peaceful Sleep Now” track rocking her iPod, she didn’t catch a wink. I sprawled out on some ridiculously uncomfortable cushions in the majlis, but the spotlights were right on me, and I was paranoid about getting robbed. So yeah, that whole burst of intelligence that we would catch some shut-eye was a complete and utter failure. Hrmmm. . . . what’s next?

Back to the hallway for rhythmic breathing and contractions. Catherine was feeling quite weak at this point, so we didn’t last long before heading back to our “room.” By the time 5:00 AM came around, we were both anxious to learn of Catherine’s progress. The good news? Advanced effacement. The bad news? 2.5 cm. We both looked at each other like, “ya kiddin’ me?” The welcomed news? Some of those crazy ladies that had been moaning, yelling and screaming in the delivery rooms all night had finally vacated, leaving us with a private delivery room with a bathroom (and a door, even!).

Once we were settled in, the next phase of contractions quickly progressed. Catherine took her position on the (yoga) birthing ball – knees against the delivery bed, hands holding onto the rails, gentle rocking back and forth, eyes closed, and mind in a deep state of hypnosis and relaxation. She and I had been practicing breathing and hypnosis for several weeks, and now her preparation was paying off. The only sounds in the room were baby’s heart beat and Catherine’s low tonal voice as the pressure waves ebbed and flowed. The nurses hadn’t really seen this method before, but they were extremely impressed with how calm and composed Catherine was. The CTG was all hooked up, showing that her contractions were now happening every two to three minutes, escalating to as high as 79 kPa (we were told that once the contractions hit 100 kPa, it would be time to push).

Unfortunately for Catherine, there was little time for rest in between contractions, and this phase lasted from about 5:30 until 10:30 in the morning. Exhausted from the travail thus far, her concern for how much longer this would last took greater hold. We concluded that if she was nearly finished with the first stage, she would follow through unassisted by an epidural or other medication; otherwise, we would ask for medication to treat the pain. The doctor checked Catherine’s cervix, but her progress report was far from ideal. “She’s fully effaced, but still only dilated 3 to 4 centimeters.” I think our hearts sank at the same time.