My Surprise Unmedicated Labor and Delivery Story

I’m what they call a “frequent flyer” to the emergency room. In the past, it’s been: shingles (at 19, no less), a concussion and sprained neck, some mysterious viral infection, repercussions from being rear-ended, the list goes on. The following to say: I’m no stranger to pain. And yet, I had never seriously considered an unmedicated birth. But as life and God would have it, I ended up having unplanned unmedicated labor.

Here’s how it happened:

Week 38 + 39

The latter weeks of pregnancy rolled around, and things were not progressing, besides an ever-inching scale. My doctor visits were disappointing; I was barely 1 cm dilated, and the baby was high. He did not feel high.

At my 39th Week visit, my doctor suggested booking an induction date. She picked 12/22/20 and quickly called the hospital. Silently, I hoped that I would go into labor before the date, even though it didn’t seem likely. I left reminded of the obvious reality that I could not control when the baby would come. To be honest, I was pretty discouraged as the date was uncomfortably close to Christmas, and it guaranteed an extra week of pregnancy that– let’s be real– no one, especially I would look forward to.

Week 39 + 2 Days

I woke up a little before 5 AM for my usual morning pee and crawled back into bed sensing a bit of cramping. It didn’t feel like Braxton Hicks and they felt quite low. Figured I was just being hopeful, I tried to fall back asleep, but the cramps continued. I hadn’t downloaded the contractions timer app like my doctor advised (if you’re expecting: download one now) and went old-school by tediously recording on my Notes app.

The cramps increasingly got more “intense” or what I would imagine as a contraction. I quietly laid in bed, timing my contractions and waiting until a full hour went by to wake my husband. Soon, they came every 2-3 minutes for at least a minute long. However, I stubbornly still couldn’t believe that this was 100% labor besides, the doctor had said the baby was still very high. To be safe, I called my doctor who alerted me to head to the hospital as soon as possible. Not what I expected since because of COVID, I figured they would tell me to labor at home as long as possible.

After the green-light from my doctor, we rushed to get ready, including throwing last-minute additions into our hospital bag and a regrettable quick shower. Then, we woke up my mom for the second time, because she had returned to bed shortly after checking in with us. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t convinced about labor

Even my optimistic husband offered to stop along the way to pick up breakfast, but I knew honestly, we couldn’t stop. Wilder was awake from all the commotion and sent us off with a kiss to the hospital.

7:00 AM

By the time we got to the hospital, I had been “laboring” for about two hours, and I was in serious pain. Even on the drive, the slow burn of regret trickled in as each contraction seemed to grow in intensity. We got our temperatures checked, strapped on our masks, and waited in the lobby for someone to take us up to labor and delivery—another COVID precaution related step. All I wanted was some pain medication ASAP.

7:15 AM

I stripped off my leggings (if you’re in labor: don’t wear leggings) and braced for another contraction in the bathroom. The doctor was already there, and the nurse began going through the admitting questions. They told us, unfortunately, we had to wait for the COVID test and blood work before I could get my epidural. Sounded easy enough. Once the doctor checked me, I was 6-7 cm dilated. I felt justified in my panting and countless “OMG”s. In my mind, I figured maybe, the baby would be out by noon.

7:30 AM

I had my dreaded IV inserted during a contraction. My intense contractions kept me distracted even as the nurse dug through my arm. I honestly thought the IV was the worst part of my first delivery. Within moments, the blood work was done and sent to the lab. All we had to do is wait. Perfectly fine, if my contractions weren’t so intense. I struggled to breathe through my contractions and mask. My nurse kept reminding me to breathe, but all I could do is brace for the impact of each strangling contraction.

7:45 AM

Completed my COVID test. Not painful, and again happened during a contraction. Contraction definitely wins. By this point, I’m in tears and seriously, dreading the progression. Panicking since, all I wanted was some pain medication and never, imagined going through this without any. The doctor shook his head and told me only the epidural would help. But it was still on stand-by along with the anesthesiologist on the floor because my blood work was in progress.

7:50 AM

The pinnacle of pain. A few breaths away from a certain anxiety attack. I was not ready. The urge to push was intense, and I couldn’t help it. The doctor and nurses advised me not to. But then a new nurse (a heaven-sent angel) checked me and alerted everyone I was at 10 cm. I reached a new level of despair, as it dawned on me: I was going to have to do this without the epidural. 

Here I was, in the most pain that even mere words can’t describe, and having no choice but to push this baby out.

8:03 AM 12/11/2020

I will say, pushing was incredibly relieving. Getting to 10 cm was pure agony, but pushing was the sweet release of all the pent-up pain. I pushed for seven short minutes, and then– our son was born. My legs were shaking and the culmination of all the pain was marked by the wiggling miracle on my chest. Less than an hour after being admitted into the delivery room, our BEAUtiful baby entered our world.

Other notable highlights:

• While pushing, the nurse asked me if I wanted to see the baby’s crowning head, twice, and I screamed, “NO! JUST GET HIM OUT!”
• Going through my intense contractions and gripping my nurse, to the point where she desperately said, “OW! You’re hurting me.” I apologized shortly after. I was a woman in pain, but not an animal.
• Ripping off and consequently, breaking my mask during one of my contractions. Futile, because I had to put another one on right after.

Takeaway

I’m still in shock that I delivered Beau without an epidural. And the funny thing is, besides the epidural, it was the ideal delivery I had prayed for. I wanted a weekend delivery, labor mostly at home, and a quick timeline. In hindsight, the birth was a blessing. But at the moment, I struggled to see it that way. Once Beau was on my chest, I was in disbelief—that the pain had ended, that I had survived. Not the ideal, cue the tears and endorphins of meeting your child. Of course, he was perfect and already had his distinct little face. There’s definitely a soft spot for my boy, who came out “fast and furious” style putting me through the most intense pain of my life.

Next time, I’m preordering my epidural (not a thing, they should make it a thing) and heading straight to the hospital the moment things get regular. Half-kidding, although I’m seriously reconsidering have any other winter babies in case, I get snowed in and for whatever reason, can’t make it to the hospital. The sheer terror. And to be honest, I still shudder sometimes thinking about the progression of pain I endured, and the trauma of having no choice haunts me the most. But thankfully, I’ve mostly recovered physically and mentally. I mean we still hope for more, so I guess that’s still good news!

Whether your labor story sounds something like mine, intense, unexpected, or not similar at all, every story is valid and important… I mean, there’s a new life (or lives) at the end of it! Hoping my story will encourage you to a) rush to the hospital if things get regular and b) embrace whatever imperfections your story has.