Wren's Birth Story

It's long, but I know some of you like this kind of thing. I know I do! It also contains DESCRIPTIVE BIRTH EVENTS, so if your squeamish you might not want to read.

The Birth of Wren Emilia

Wren’s official due date was August 2, 2010. But by week 37, July 12, 2010, I was consistently having inconsistent contractions. The doctor called it “pro dromal” labor, which google said was “false labor”, but I said tomato/tomatoe, the whole thing was a sham. I’d been into the hospital for a non-stress test, but the ordeal just increased my level of stress. If my uterus was determined to contract fifty times a day for no good reason, then I was going to fight back with indifference and mistrust. I decided to ignore my body all together. It couldn’t be trusted. So, I stopped making note of contractions, painful or not. I also stopped timing the suckers, even when it seemed like they were coming all the time. I believed labor would come whether or not I was a neurotic impatient mess, and I preferred to escape the neurotic mess portion if I could possibly manage.

Instead if timing contractions, I kept myself busy. I cleaned, a lot. The kids and I picked berries. We made jam, we made pie. One day we made two dozen delicious cupcakes from scratch, just because it was something to do. We went to the park and rode bikes. We went out on the boat and watched Liam tube for the first time. All the meanwhile it felt as if the ligaments in my pelvic girdle were turning into goo. My uterus still contracted, and I also lost little bits of what I think was my mucus plug. When my 38 week appointment, July 22^nd, a Thursday, came, I was very curious as to the progress my cervix had made. After a week of feigned indifference, I really couldn’t help but hope for some sign of labor “down there”.

Dr. Farley’s assessment was, hmm, a little lack-luster. I was 2 and half centimeters dilated (up from 1.5 the week before), and 50% effaced. He said I could go into labor “anytime”. But what is “anytime”? One day or two weeks? Both, really. So, I kept the same blasé mantra. Nothings gonna happen. This girl isn’t coming out any time soon. La la la.

That afternoon, Crystal Logan came by to visit. I noticed I was having some contractions. They felt different, too. A little lower, maybe, and somehow connected to my cervix. Each contraction induced a strange scratching, or tickling sensation in the nether regions. I tried not to get excited, but I did time the contractions a little here and there. They seemed to be coming every 6-9 minutes. Not a big deal.

I told Billy about the contractions when he came home around 4 in the afternoon. He thought they were a bigger deal then I did. I talked about going to visit my sister in Salem the next day, and he looked at me like I was crazy. “If you’re not in the hospital, you mean?” Then I looked at him like he was crazy. I was sure these contractions would fade and die out, just like the others had.

We had burritos from Rigobertos for dinner, and the kids went to sleep easily. By 8 o’clock we had retired to our room. We snuggled, watched a movie, and did some other stuff. I was contraction-free the whole time, and a little disappointed that I’d been right. Everything seemed to have gone to sleep with the kids.

Around midnight, they kicked back into gear. Nothing too notable, however. Billy was asleep, so I quietly did some laundry and took a bath. Around 1 in the morning, I decided to at least try to go to sleep. The contractions were coming every 6 minutes, but the pain level was still minimal. Maybe a 1 or 2? I feel asleep without out a problem.

I woke up around 3:30-4 ish with contractions. This is the first thing that alarmed me. Going to sleep always stopped my false contractions. However, these puppies were coming every 6 minutes. I am pretty sure my body woke up just to use the bathroom, because the contractions weren’t very painful. Yet.

I laid back down in bed and played a word game on my iPhone while timing the contractions. They were consistently every 6 minutes. Dr. Farley didn’t want me calling or coming in until they were every 5. It was also in the middle of the night, so I didn’t want to come in unless I had no choice in the matter.

A little after 4 am, things changed. I had a very strong contraction. This contraction seemed to push the baby further down, because I suddenly felt a lot of pain and pressure on my cervix. I didn’t get the pushing sensation—but felt a flicker of remembrance.

I was in labor, I knew it. Just to be sure though, I waited for the next contraction. It came four minutes later and was just as bad. I leaned over and nudged Billy awake. He was drowsy, and it took a minute or too for me to get his attention.

“This is real, Billy.” I said. “I’m in labor and we have to go to the hospital, now.” I felt like he didn’t really understand, but my next contraction came about 3 minutes later, and the pain had really picked up. This made me panicky. I was up and getting dressed fast. My hospital bag was mostly packed, but I added my insurance card, my laptop, the cameras. Billy caught on to the reality when he saw how painful the contractions were. I couldn’t walk through them. I couldn’t talk through them. They scared me. I didn’t feel any sense of giddiness or excitement, only the pressing need to get to the hospital.

Billy called his parents, I called Christal Houghtelling. Bless her heart, Christal was up and ready to take the kids. No questions asked, even though it was 4:35 am. I will love her forever for her kindness. We dropped off the kids around 4:45, the Snyder parents were on their way to pick them up, and we headed to the hospital. Billy broke all speeding laws, and I was grateful. The contractions were coming fast, so fast I didn’t bother timing them, and they HURT. I was scared.

The nurses at the birthing center let me into a room right away. They must have a sixth sense about who is-and isn’t- in labor. No questions asked, they brought me into our room and checked my cervix. I was 7 centimeters. I asked for an epidural, and was concerned when they said I had to wait for a liter of fluid to drain into my IV first. They said it would take 15-20 minutes. “What if I can’t wait that long?” I asked. The contractions were picking up, both in pain and frequency, and I felt very, very scared. The nurse, Dannika?, was very kind. She was short and pudgy, and when I leaned forward she’d hug me into her soft breasts. She gave me some Fentenol to take the edge off the contractions, and while they didn’t do much for the pain, the medication did ease my growing sense of panic. It made me feel like I could handle what was happening. It faded quickly, but I did get another dose right before the epidural.

The epidural took awhile. My scoliosis made it difficult for the nurse anethestician to find a spot, but he did after 20 or so minutes. The medication worked right away. I could feel the contractions, but the pain was gone. It felt like the perfect concoction.

Dr. Farley arrived while the anethestician was still in the room. My water hadn’t broken yet, so Dr. Farley went ahead and broke it. With his hand still up there, he checked things out. “That really hurts”, I told him. I was surprised I could feel so much with the epidural. “That’s because it’s time to push” Dr. Farley said.

There was meconium in the fluid, which scared me. And the lack of pain relief near my cervix and in my vagina scared me as well. Dr. Farley said increasing the epidural wouldn’t help, the baby would be born too soon. The nurse showed me where the Epidural bolus button was, but Dr. Farley was right, the pain didn’t go away.

The next contraction started, and he told me to push. Push I did, and I could feel every sensation. The baby’s descent felt like she was cracking my bones and burning my vagina along the way. I pushed as hard as I could for maybe 15-20 seconds, and then they told me to stop. The break wasn’t much of anything, maybe a minute, and then they were yelling for me to start again. This time, Dr. Farley said “okay, she needs to come out RIGHT NOW, Rebecca. Push her out right now!”. The nurse would count to ten, but then she’d start right over and have me keep pushing. The whole thing is really a blur, but I remember screaming out in pain, saying something like “this really hurts!” and then looking at Billy for reassurance. He was really good and just gave me the sweetest look of compassion and love and said “you’re doing really good.” Or something like that. The pain was unreal. It surprised me and scared me. It hurt to push, I wanted to stop really bad, but the nurse and Dr. Farley were practically screaming “now! Now!now!”. I could feel her head slip through, a pause, and then her shoulders. After that she wiggled right out of me, and it felt like a wormy fish slipping through my fingers. I looked down and saw a bunch of nasty brownish green water, and her little body covered in the meconium. She wasn’t moving.

They brought her over to the delivery table and lights just a few feet away, but all I could see were her motionless legs, brown and green. I was very scared. Why wasn’t she screaming? Why wasn’t she moving. I looked at my mom, who told me everything was okay. Dr. Farley was still working on me down there, and he seemed confident the baby was okay. This helped take away most of my anxiety, but I was still concerned. Why wasn’t she moving?

They said she had been born so quickly, she was just in shock. They whisked her away because they wanted to make sure she didn’t breathe in any of the meconium. They didn’t want her to cry until they’d suctioned it all out. Dr. Farley wanted her born so quickly because her heart rate dived during the first push session.

Her APGAR was an 8, surprisingly enough. She weighed 7 lbs 1 oz, and was 19 inches long. As soon as she was clear of meconium, they let me hold her. She was very alert, so I spoke to her for a couple of minutes before I tried to nurse. Her Spirit is very strong, and I felt her love for me penetrate everything. She nursed right away, like a pro. Of course. All my babies are excellent nursers.

Billy and I had a few names in mind. Margaret, with the nickname Margot. Adair. And lastly, Wren. As soon as I held her, I knew she was Wren. It was Billy’s favorite name, so as soon as I decided, it was practically official. We gave it a day to practice out, but eventually decided on Wren Emilia Snyder. I personally think it is just a gorgeous name.

And we think she has red hair?