Preface: For each of my children I
have written a birth story. Each has been unique with its own
triumphs and low points. Reading this any birth advocate might
think my intention is to brag about how I fought “the maternity
system” and won. Truthfully, that wasn’t my intention when I
wrote this. I am just recalling the events of my birth as they
impressed upon my brain and heart. The fact that I did have to
fight for the birth I felt was safest and most beneficial for myself and
my babies was disappointing (although not unexpected) but I’m
happy with my decision to do so.
Typical Friday nights at our home consist of controlled chaos, fun,
and then a calm feeling as we bond with and then shuffle our children to
bed. January 20th 2012 was no exception as the younger two were
having a boxing match in the living room and I was occupied with sitting
on my birth ball in an effort to open my pelvis and change the
“bottlenecking situation” of two baby heads competing for first
place. Earlier that morning I had a non-stress test and I had been
contracting on the monitor. The nurse told me “You have that
look in your eyes.” I knew the look she was referring to…a
glassy eyed, tired look that mamas get before they give birth. I
had been refusing induction because I trusted that my body knew when it
was supposed to give birth. The average length of a twin pregnancy
was 36 weeks and at 38 weeks was pressured to have an induction, which I
refused. So at 39 weeks and 4 days I was patiently waiting for
labour to start. It happened that my doctor was out of town until Sunday
so it was a good reason to try to hold off a couple more days. He
was willing to help me have a home birth like setting and I knew his
presence at my birth would make a huge difference.
Once the kids were down for the night my husband decided to stay up
with his buddy and hang out in the living room. I went to bed with
the same thought I had every night…that if tonight was the night I’d
better rest up. Besides, I had a wicked stomach ache that was
making me feel run down. A couple hours later my husband joined me
and started playing with his Nintendo 3DS in bed. I told him that
he had better not stay up too late because tonight could be the night.
He finally shut off his game at 1:30am.
At 2am I had a contraction that woke me out of my sleep. I
thought it was possible that my water had broken so I rolled out of bed
and headed to the bathroom. No sooner did I walk past the
footboard that I felt a gush that confirmed my suspicion. Chris
was sleeping soundly and I said the words that he had been waiting to
hear for weeks: “Chris, my water broke.” In firefighter
fashion Chris jumped out of bed in one single motion. Immediately
he started loading up the car, half awake. His brother came over
to stay with the kids and I calmly gave last minute instructions to my
very sleepy husband. I felt some contractions, but nothing
regular. I knew I could wait to go to the hospital but my gut was
telling me that this labour was going to pick up speed quickly. I
called my doulas and they headed to the hospital. I called the
hospital and informed them I was coming. Chris helped me into the
car and took off at a snail’s pace as not to jar me during
contractions. With a smile I reassured him he could go faster.
The car ride was spent calling family to let them know we were headed to
the hospital.
We arrived at the hospital and I was wheeled up to Labour and
Delivery. Luckily, I was able to get into a Labour room right away
instead of having to go to triage. I grabbed a birth ball and some
coconut water to drink and started rocking away. My friend Ana was
assigned to be my nurse. I was fortunate to have someone who
already knew my thoughts and feelings on birth to help care for me.
My doulas, Jen and Jessica arrived less than 15 minutes after I got to
the hospital. My mom arrived shortly after that. During this
time I was going through the admission process and my contractions were
starting to pick up. I sat on a birth ball as the nurses attempted
to get a good tracing of the babies’ heartbeats. In order to get
them on the monitor I had to lean back so they could reach under my
enormous belly. It was very difficult to achieve and my labour was
beginning to intensify. I knew that this was part of giving birth
in a hospital and I hoped that once they got a baseline they would leave
so I could labour in peace. I ended up back in the bed for an
admitting cervical exam and to verify my water broke (duh) and I was at
4cm and 90% effaced. Chris was at my side holding me tightly and
loving on me. I felt so much comfort when he pressed his forehead
to mine. At this point I was feeling the need to move around but I
was told I needed to have an ultrasound to locate baby B and verify her
position. I also met the attending doctor on call, who didn’t
seem too opinionated either way about my birth plan. I told him
what was most important to me and he said it sounded reasonable. I
really missed my doctor but told myself that this was the way my birth
was meant to go and that it would be okay. My contractions were
incredibly intense at this point, lasting over two minutes with only ten
second breaks in between. Some of them ended with back pain.
Every time the ultrasound wand would touch my belly to try and verify
where Baby B was I’d be unable to handle the sensation and it made me
upset. I told the staff that the babies were both head down prior
to labor starting and I felt that this procedure was unnecessary.
I tried to stay in my zone but I was being overwhelmed by the prodding
and unable to cope with the intensity I was experiencing. Being
upset turned into being frustrated and I started being very vocal about
my displeasure that my desire to be left alone was being ignored.
I just couldn’t understand why I couldn’t be left alone when I was
obviously in transitional labor and needed to fully focus. I
remember saying “This is why I didn’t want to come here!” and “I
miss my birth tub.” I cried, “Why won’t they just leave me
alone?” I even growled at the staff in my moment of sheer
frustration in hopes it would get the message across. I just
wanted to be heard. I was losing my composure and my primal side
was taking over. Finally, the staff left the room and I was able
to listen to my body without being interfered with. The first
thing I did was rip off the monitors on my belly. Hospital
policies be damned, I just needed relief! Then I turned around and
got on my hands and knees. When I did that my intense contractions
became more tolerable and I had a huge gush of water release from me and
intense pressure like I was going to need to push soon. At this
point I believe that Maisy (twin B) moved up out of the way and allowed
Atlee to come down and get into position. My body knew what it
needed to do and I had to listen to it or labor wasn’t going to be
effective. I bit the pillow as each contraction surged over me.
I knew the urge to push was coming soon. The staff came back in
and I’m sure they were not happy that I was no longer in an optimal
position for monitoring or ultrasounds. I don’t remember much
about the moments that followed except trying to communicate how close I
was to pushing. I don’t think that the residents knew what to
think as my doulas, mom, and husband tried to express to them how fast
I’d deliver if I got the urge to push. I actually debated for a
short time just giving birth in the L&D room and catching my own
babies, and then decided the chaos it would cause was too stressful.
Finally I got Ana’s attention and said “If you want me in the OR for
this delivery we need to move now.” Someone suggested a cervical
exam and I said “No, if you check me they will come out. We need
to go.” I refused to get back upright in the bed so they threw a
blanket over my naked bottom and wheeled me to the OR. I am sure I
scared the people waiting in the hall, but I tried to stay in my zone as
I said “goodbye” to my doulas and mom and faced birthing my babies
in the last place I really wanted to be.
The OR was just what I expected…cold and sterile and lots of
unfamiliar faces. I spotted the attending doctor and residents
behind their masks. They asked me to move to the OR table and I
refused. There was no way I could possibly push on that table!
So the bed was broken down for me and I begrudgingly put my legs up.
To be honest though I was so tired of fighting and I was ready to be
done so I just did the best I could to get into a comfortable position.
The attending had the ultrasound machine and the next words out of his
mouth changed the climate of the whole room: “Baby B is breech.”
Immediately, without having any discussion with me I began to be prepped
for a c-section. “What do you mean she’s breech?” I
challenged him. He had to show me on the monitor her head up near
my ribs to make me believe him. He started giving orders for a
c-section and I immediately said “No, we are not doing that.”
This turned into a bit of a standoff as I could tell that the attending
didn’t feel comfortable delivering a breech baby and I did. My
husband put his foot down hard and said “We aren’t doing a
c-section!” I asked what her heart rate was and nobody paid
attention to me. I asked five more times before I was told by the
resident “136.” I knew this was a normal heart rate and that
likely once Baby A was delivered that she would likely turn and go head
down. So I further argued against the procedure and the attending
said “Let me do my job.” At this moment I was so exhausted,
fully dilated, and ready to battle. Then I saw the NICU team on
the other side of the window and Mama Bear reared her ugly head.
“No!” I said with authority, “They do not need to be assessed by
the NICU team! They are full term at 39 weeks and I am a NICU RT!
They are coming straight to me! You are NOT taking my babies from
me!” Nobody argued with me, I don’t think they knew what to do
with me anymore. The attending got on the phone to get permission
to deliver baby A from a high risk doctor. The whole time this was
going on I was amazed at the zoo it had become. I was just giving
birth for goodness sakes and I knew exactly what to do. Why was
everyone else acting like I was a ticking time bomb? I longed for
my gentle birth at home in the water.
I was checked and found to have an anterior lip of cervix left so I
told the resident that I was going to push and she was going to move it
out of the way. She was concerned about using Betadine on me to
sterilize the area and I told her “Birth isn’t sterile.” The
attending started to argue with me about tearing my cervix and I
completely ignored him. I was ready to get this over with. I
pushed once and once the head passed my cervix I pushed once more and he
was crowning. I asked if he had hair and I was told he did.
The next contraction I pushed again and he emerged and was placed on my
chest, all warm and wet and crying. The cord clamping was delayed
per my request and I looked at my precious little boy. I was so
relieved he was finally in my arms. I heard Chris say “Hi
son!” and I glanced over and saw him crying with joy. For a few
moments I forgot where I was, I just wanted to look him over and meet my
sweet little love bug. My first thought was that he looked like
Chris. He didn’t look like a newborn as much as he looked like a
sweet little man, so alert and inquisitive. After minutes passed
and we had some bonding time I requested that dad hold his son for the
first time. Chris was so over the moon, it was the happiest I’d
ever seen him. He talked to his wide eyed boy and immediately
started taking pictures of him on his iPhone and putting them on
Facebook. Atlee Jacob Kal-El McClung had arrived safely into my
arms at 6:20am on January 21st, 2012.
The ultrasound following Atlee’s birth revealed that Baby B had
successfully turned head-down and was safely making her way down.
So we waited, and waited…and waited! The residents sat and tried
to stay awake. It was like we hit the eye of the storm and there
was nothing anyone could do but wait. I looked up to the window
and the NICU team was still there. In fact, a former co-worker was
looking at me through the window and smiling. I sheepishly smiled
back as if to say “Yeah, it’s me making trouble in here. Who
else did you expect?” The resident would periodically check me
and I finally said “You don’t have to check me, I will tell you when
she’s there.” Finally, after 40 minutes of waiting I felt
pressure and my baby was ready to be born. I was grateful for the
break but ready to be done with labour. What I didn’t anticipate
was having to have a few powerful contractions to reopen my cervix again
as it had started closing. I felt the urge to push slowly come
over me and gave a good push, another good push and the resident told me
to slow down but I couldn’t. I felt my darling daughter placed
on my chest, warm and gurgling. Maisy Nobelle McClung was born at
7:01am, 41 minutes after her brother. She was less than a few
minutes old when she crawled down and latched right on and started
nursing. Her eyes big and alert, her fuzzy head perfectly round,
she was the smallest of all of my babies, but my fastest to find her
mama’s milk!
Happy, exhausted, and triumphant I was wheeled out of the OR with
both of my babies. A nurse later told me that she had never in her
30 years of working in L&D seen a mom of twins leave with her babies
in her arms. I nursed Maisy all the way back to my room.
Atlee joined his sister, nursing like a champ. I couldn’t
believe I had just given birth to twin naturally in the hospital.
It was probably my hardest birth, but not because I had a hard labour
but because I had to fight so hard to have a normal birth. What I
cared about most was giving my babies a gentle, safe birth and I felt
that I had accomplished that. Of course I couldn’t have had a
better advocate and support than my husband. Chris was the most
loving, caring, and protective husband I could have asked for. He
even shed some tears for my frustration. I am so thankful to be
his wife and the mother of his children.
Despite being twins Atlee and Maisy couldn’t be more different.
They look completely different, act different, and even feel different
when you pick them up. However they seem to be familiar with one
another and I believe they were meant to balance each other out. I
know I have said this before, but now my family is complete. Twins
was a nice way to end things…sort of like going out with a bang.
I’m happy to be a mom of seven and I wouldn’t change one single
thing about my life. I am immeasurably blessed.