Happy Birthday Birth Story

I wasn't sure if I was early or overdue. The first date they had given me was December 15th, at a later appointment a nurse told me December 8th, when I questioned my doctor she replied "Sometime in December, let's not worry about dates." I began to worry. Christmas was fast approaching and I was more uncomfortable by the day. Preferring to do things the natural way I feared my OB would get induction happy and push for me to schedule the birthday; I had heard horror stories about pitocin, with that drug flowing in my veins how could I avoid an epidural? By this point I had weekly appointments that I tried to stretch out to every 9 or 10 days giving my body time to do it's thing.
At one appointment my blood pressure was slightly elevated, something I had never had problems with. "Lay on your left side" the nurse urged, "The doctor will be in in a minute." I prayed like never before, fearing the worst, hoping for the best. By the time Dr M came in my pressure had dropped; she examined me; not much had changed. "Make your appointment for Monday (she had caught on to my stretching strategy) my gut tells me you won't need it!" She left smiling, it was Wednesday.
The next couple of days were uneventful. The Christmas shopping was done, the family gatherings still a ways off. Slight cramps kept me hopeful but didn't develop into anything productive. Friday night Brian and I took the kids out, walking seemed to really bring on the cramps but only for awhile. Finally at home we all settled into bed. It was a restless few hours for me. My dreams were weird and painful. I got up at one point and took some Tums to try and relieve the discomfort. Around midnight I half-way sat up to a gush of warm fluid. I shook Brian, "my water just broke." This time around he jumped into action (I had trouble convincing him with Noah) I called the doctor while taking a hot shower. "We are on our way." I informed him. I didn't get to talk to my beloved Dr. M but I figured she would meet us at the hospital, that is always what she had done in the past.
The drive was uncomfortable but quick. Contractions were coming every 4-5 minutes but not lasting long. The staff in the ER was ready for us and we were quickly admitted. Upon examination the nurse declared I was dilated to a seven but the baby was still very high, she was impressed at how well I was doing and explained that she was going to call Dr G, the doctor on call to let him know what was going on. I was heartbroken. I had a good relationship with Dr M; she had delivered my first two babies, and she was a women. What exactly do men know about birthing babies?
Dr. G arrived and though he was very nice, not what I wanted. He promptly came in waited for me to have a contraction so he could do an internal exam during the peak of pain (my words not his) said I was barely a six and broke my extra bag of waters to bring the baby down. He wanted to get this show on the road but he was not as optimistic as the nurse.
The next few hours progressed slowly with little change on my end. Madeline remained high, I remained at a six/seven (depending on who you asked)and my back pain was awful. Our wonderful nurse brought in a birthing ball and I rotated between the bed and the ball changing positions, trying to get comfortable and trying to encourage Madeline out. Dr. G came and went, sometimes sitting in a chair simply watching me or asking questions. As time progressed he grew impatient, okay we all grew impatient. He started urging me to get some pitocin. "Your contractions aren't strong enough." I looked at the nurse, "How does he know, he is not feeling these contractions!" I blurted. She sympathetically explained that he only had my best interest in mind. Whatever, I staunchly refused the pit, however an epidural was starting to sound wonderful.
At 5:30am Dr G came back in, I was on the ball, Brian by my side, the nurse was on the floor holding the monitor on my belly. The contractions were definitely more intense, I did not want to be bothered as I was having to concentrate, forcing myself to relax and stop fighting the pain. "Check her progression at six" he told our nurse then left the room. Mentally I told myself that at six if nothing had changed I could have an epidural. I was exhausted. This was my hardest labor yet. I wanted relief.
Madeline moved, a huge twisting movement and suddenly there was relief, no more back pain. Wow! I thought, that feels good. I stood to empty my bladder. Brian and the nurse being so used to my moving around they didn't even help me to the toilet. I sat down and it hit me. AAAAHHHH! I screamed, "I am pushing!" The nurse flew into the bathroom, hit the alarm switch and said "NO!" She quickly jerked me off of the stool and flung me into my bed throwing my feet in the stirrups. Other nurses, beckoned by the alarm swarmed the room and someone quickly paged Dr G. "breathe, breathe, breathe" they kept telling me, NO, absolutely no pushing just breathe. The doctor arrived and had time to don his mask and gloves all the while repeating the nurses chant, "No pushing just breathe." This brings me back to: what exactly do men know about birthing babies? I HAD TO PUSH!
Madeline Joy Henke was born at 5:45am weighing 8lb 9oz and 20 1/2 inches long. She hasn't ceased to delight us with her loud personality, funny faces and delightful grin. Madi Joy is a trooper and puts up with much taunting from her siblings, I know that someday she will get them back. We love you Madeline! Happy 1st Birthday Sweetheart!