GEORGIE'S BIRTH STORY: LOVE & (LOTS OF) OTHER DRUGS
Childbirth is WILD, y’all. Fair warning, I had a very positive birth experience, so if you did not, and don’t want to hear about one STOP READING. If you’re expecting, and want to hear a happy, blessed, and heavily medicated story about a healthy baby girl coming into the world - you’ve come to the right place. I know these stories can be very sensitive, and we all have different opinions and wants when it comes to childbirth, so please understand this is my journey and my opinions. I want every woman to have the birth they’re most comfortable with! But if you’re a man reading this, let me make one thing very clear, you don’t get to have an opinion about your partner’s birth experience. It’s her decision and if you don’t support them, I quite frankly, think you’re a monster.
A note on BIRTH PLANS: I don’t love ‘em. No one is a bigger planner than I am. I love a good a schedule, a routine, game plan, etc… I find tremendous security in it. So, I shocked myself when, at six months pregnant, the idea of coming up with a birth plan felt completely overwhelming to me. I knew what did not want: home birth, birth center, water birth, etc. None of those things are for me. I grew up surrounded by modern medicine. I trust it, and I’m comfortable with it. In fact, I was terrified to have my baby out of a hospital. What if something goes wrong and you can’t get to a hospital in time? I have zero risk tolerance when it comes to the health of my baby and myself. I wanted people with medical degrees and a NICU close by in case anything went wrong. My mother had a very traumatic birth experience that she’s lucky to have survived, so I was very aware of the fact that things can go wrong no matter how smooth your pregnancy is or how many risk factors you do not have. There’s an interesting episode of Armchair Expert with Dax Shepard during which Lake Bell talks about two different home birth experiences. One went smoothly, but the other one ended in extreme disaster. All this is to say, I felt safest in a hospital. If this is not your opinion – totally fine! Remember how I said I want every woman to have the birth of her dreams? I mean it.
38.5 weeks pregnant. Swollen, covered in acne, ready to get that baby out.
I started watching YouTube birth videos every night before bed. I think this was my way of planning. I wanted to know absolutely everything that could go wrong (or right) so I was totally prepared. And I’m so glad I did because I learned so much. I had no idea that epidurals are now a drip. I always thought they were one injection that could wear off after a while. I had no idea what cytotec was. I had no idea the husband is sometimes asked to leave the room for the epidural. I had no idea lots of hospitals won’t admit you until you’re 3 cms along. I had no idea about stripping membranes, mucus plugs, etc. Essentially, I realized I did not know enough about childbirth to even know what questions to ask my doctor.
Now, I was (still am) absolutely in love with my OBGYN. She’s such a badass. She listens. She takes her time with you. And obviously she’s smart AF. One day, I asked her if I needed to come to the hospital with a formal birth plan since I saw on YouTube that lots of women write theirs out and give them to the nurses. She responded: “I am your birth plan.” This instantly relaxed me. I knew absolutely anything could happen in childbirth and I just felt that in trying to plan for it I was setting myself up for failure. In that one comment, my OB instantly took that responsibility away from me, and I was so grateful for it.
My OB then asked me if I had any fears. Um, about fifty million. I told her I really wanted to avoid a C-section She pointed me to a great study out of Northwestern that finds inducing labor at 39 weeks is the best way to avoid a cesarean and reduce fetal complications. Now, I love a good study. I also talked to one of my best friends who is an OB in New York. She went to Northwestern, had her baby there, and actually tried to be a part of that trial. The research really set well with me, and we tentatively decided if I hadn’t gone into labor already, I would be induced at 39 weeks. Since my mom went into labor at 35.5 weeks, I was fairly certain I was going to have that baby early. Spoiler: I did not.
My mommy and my BFF, Katy, having a great ol’ time watching me huff and puff around Brentwood. Not pictured: our golden doodle pulling me down the sidewalk.
At 38 weeks, I started having contractions. Now, when you’re a first time mom, it’s very hard to differentiate between real contractions and Braxton Hicks. After talking to my OB and hooking up to a monitor, we realized I was, in fact, experiencing real contractions. They felt a lot like extreme menstrual cramps, but they were very far apart. She told me to sit tight and that this could go on all week. And it did. I had random contractions, then I would have clusters during which they’d become regular (2-3 minutes apart) for about 30 minutes. Then, I wouldn’t have any for hours. During this time I also had my bloody show and lost my mucus plug.
Hospital glam might not have been practical, but it sure made me feel good.
At 38 weeks and 6 days I had another appointment with my OB. She checked me for the first time. (Ouch!) I was 3cm dilated and 60% effaced, which was a lot further along than I thought I’d be. My OB stripped my membranes. My bestie (also a doctor), Katy, held my hand because - also ouch! Instead of inducing me the next day (39 weeks), we decided to wait the weekend because my OB was pretty sure I’d go into labor on my own. Katy, mom and I had the best weekend waddling me around everywhere. My contractions got more intense, but stayed inconsistent. By Monday morning they were five minutes apart, and my OB told me to go to the hospital at noon. So what did we do? We loaded the car (I looked like I was moving into the hospital), got breakfast sandwiches at Belwood Bakery in Brentwood, and then Katy and I went down to the Dry Bar and got our hair done. Mama wanted to look good for her baby!
Getting checked into the hospital was a breeze (pre-register people!) and I was hooked up to the monitor in no time. My contractions were still five minutes apart and I was dilated 4cm - and that is how I stayed. So they decided to give me cytotec. Now, I’d watched a lot of YouTube birth videos right? Well, in all the ones I saw, the cytotec was vaginal. So I said to the nurse, “Should I take off my underwear?” She laughed and said, “No, it’s oral.” So… we were off to a great start, and I had just given my husband a lot of ammunition to make fun of me. Like he needs it.
At this point, contractions weren’t too bad, and I was still enjoying my mom and husband. Katy had to catch a fight back to Dallas for work. My OB came to visit us. I hadn’t dilated any more but I was more effaced. She sat with Andy and I for a long time, which I loved. Since the cytotec wasn’t doing anything for me, she decided to start me on pitocin. Her only advice was to get the epidural before I thought I needed it.
My mom went home so one of us could get a good night sleep and take care of our doggy, Heather. Andy went to the gift shop and got me candy. Oh! Fun fact – my OB let me eat during labor. A lot of places don’t. I had a tootsie pop and some other hard candies and watched Amy Schumer’s Netflix special Growing. I highly recommend this for labor entertainment. Highly relatable content.
Around midnight, the contractions really started ramping up. They were coming every 2.5 minutes and were steadily increasing in intensity. Going to the bathroom (which I did often with 7lbs of baby sitting on my bladder) was so uncomfortable. I was also getting tired, and I just feel like everything is emotionally heightened when you’re exhausted. Andy was asleep by now (we brought a comforter and lots of pillows for him, so he could attempt to get some sleep on his little bench). I was starting to think, “Oh, I’ll probably want the epidural in the next few hours,” but I still had enough rest time between contractions that I was okay. When m nurse, who I loved btw, came in to check on me, she saw me clutching the side of the hospital bed and asked if I wanted to get the epidural. I HAVE NO IDEA WHY I SAID NO AT THIS POINT. Big Mistake. Huge.
A short 30 minutes later, dozing between contractions, I felt a huge pop during a particularly intense contraction, like a rubber band broke inside me. It hurt. Bad. I frantically woke Andy and told him I thought something was wrong. I thought I’d pulled a muscle maybe? But in the following seconds, water gushed everywhere, and I realized that pop was my water breaking. I could not believe the amount of amniotic fluid that came out of me. I mean, it truly was the Niagara Falls of water breaks.
Instantly, the contractions were on top of each other, and they were fierce. All those moms who talk about “riding the wave” – good for you all, but I was not riding any such wave. In fact, I could not even identify anything wave like. I simply felt as though someone was taking a machete to my uterus. Andy called the nurse and told her very sweetly, “I think our water broke!” At which point I shouted, “Tell her I want my epidural! Tell her now!”
SIDENOTE: If you know you want an epidural, ask your nurses how long it generally takes to get one. I’ve had friends ask for their epidural and wait for HOURS. When I checked in, my nurse told me they have an anesthesiologist on the floor 24/7, and no one else in labor, so it would not take long. Maybe twenty minutes.
Didn’t think VS had granny panties? Think again.
At this moment in time, with ZERO breaks between contractions, twenty minutes felt like a lifetime. My nurse and husband helped move me to the edge of the bed, so she could change my sheets, and I could get in position for my epidural. She also brought in two bags of fluid - you need fluid prior to the epidural to reduce the chance of a drop in blood pressure. I asked about 80 times how much longer it would take for the anesthesiologist to arrive. Now, I never thought I would be a vocal laborer. Welp, I sure was. I was moaning and groaning and squeezing my husband’s hand and saying, “oh my god,” over and over again. My nurse kept reminding me to breathe, which resulted in me basically blowing air out as hard as I could and sucking it back in quickly. Then, I started violently shaking. Then, I threw up.
To recap, I’m now sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking, moaning, vomiting, holding both my husband’s hands with amniotic fluid gushing out my who-ha. He took this moment to lean in and whisper, “Are you enjoying our staycation?” This made me laugh, which in turn, made more amniotic fluid gush out. (I’m telling you – it was endless.) The nurse then covered my hair to create a sterile environment for the epidural, but it wouldn’t stay, so I had kinda half a hairnet on, at which point, Andy looked me up and down and goes, “I gotta tell you, honey, the dry bar was a mistake.” Man, I love him.
I have never in my life been happier to see anyone than that anesthesiologist. Not only was this woman absolutely fabulous at her job, but she was also hilarious – and humor was really helping me. I told her I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to hold still long enough for the epidural because A. I was shaking so badly and B. PAIN. I was gripping Andy telling him not to let me move, but the doctor promised she would find a good window and told me I did not need to add that to my list of things to worry about.
I think about thirty minutes had gone by since my water broke when she started my epidural. I was laser focused on staying still. She told me I might feel an electrical pulse, but I truly felt nothing. When I say nothing, I don’t mean, “it was nothing in relation to contractions,” I mean… NOTHING. This girl was amazing. Miracle worker. My nurse, the doctor, and my husband helped get me comfy in my clean sheets. The anesthesiologist had me lay on one side for some time (I can’t remember how long?) and then she shifted me to the other side so the epidural was even. She told me multiple times she was committed to making me as comfortable as possible, so if I had any issues to call her back in. I was so grateful she said that to me, because let me tell you something, I was also committed to making myself as comfortable as possible.
I couldn’t believe how fast it worked. My nurse put in my catheter, which I did not feel at all thank you very much. Remember how I said going to the bathroom was a huge pain before? Well, I underestimated how amazing it would be to have the catheter and not need to get up to pee. I’d had to pee for about nine months now, so this was a huge epidural bonus!
One little snag - there was an area on my right side that still hurt like a motherfucker, and I was back to clutching the side of the bed. In two minutes the anesthesiologist was back, and within five minutes I was in zero pain. She put me on my right side and gave me a tiny boost of meds. God bless the epidural. So now, my contractions are still coming like crazy, but I’m in zero pain and I don’t have to pee. I instantly fell asleep.
I woke up at 7am to the nurses’ shift change, which I was extremely nervous about because I loved my night nurse, and I didn’t want to deliver my baby with a nurse I didn’t like. Well, lucky me, I ended up absolutely loving the next nurse, too! I slept a little longer and then around 9AM, she checked me (I was at a 6) and then told me how the morning/day was going to go.
…Just thirty minutes before Georgie was born.
She told Andy and I that she had a feeling I was going to progress quickly, so we called my mom and told her to think about coming back to the hospital. Crazy nurses have these instincts! I couldn’t move my legs on my own, so she called the anesthesiologist in to turn down my epidural. I did not like the sound of this one bit, but I also knew I needed to feel to be able to push. There was also a new anesthesiologist on call, and I didn’t like the sound of that either. I wanted my girl back.
So the new guy enters the room, and it was like a cast member from Grey’s Anatomy walked off set and into my room. My mom’s face was priceless. He explained, in detail, that he would turn it down and come back in twenty minutes to see if I could move my legs yet. He also told me if at any point I was in pain to call him immediately. Needless to say, Andy was out. This guy was in! (KIDDING)
Well, after about a half hour, I could wiggle my toes, move my legs, and I could feel the contractions, but they were like mild menstrual cramps. I’ve truly have periods worse. So I told the doctor, I was feeling great, and if I had any issues I’d let him know.
Mom, Andy, and I had coffee (she brought the good stuff from home) and watched The Today Show. I may have dozed a little too. Around 11:30AM, I called my nurse in and asked if she could help me use the bathroom because I needed to poop. She got a quizzical look on her face and lifted up my sheets. Sure enough, I had already pooped. She said it’s very normal to feel like you need to have a bowl movement when the baby is getting really low. She checked me again, and sure enough I was 10cm dilated. “The baby is right there,” she said. “Do not push.”
She called my doctor who, considering I was at 6cm only a few hours ago, had gone about her day and was in the middle of an appointment a few buildings over. I was so chill and comfortable with my mom and husband I didn’t mind waiting at all, but you better believe my nurse was not leaving that room. She was worried the baby was going to fall out of me. She took the time to explain to us what was going to happen. She said when the doctor arrives, things will get really exciting, and she didn’t want me to feel like I didn’t know what was going on around me. (Appreciate that!) She said we’d do skin to skin right away before cleaning her off and weighing her, which is exactly what I wanted. She said we’d cut the chord and the doctor would repair any tearing I had. Then we’d try to get the baby to latch.
Is Andy’s face not the cutest thing you’e ever seen?
About twenty minutes later (by this time I REALLY had to poop) we could hear my doctor running down the hall. She entered the room and within seconds was ready to go. A few things I love about my doctor. She does not let you push without her there. She wants to be present for the whole thing, which I really loved. She also sat on the edge of my bed (I hadn’t seen this before) which felt really warm and personal to me. She had me hold back my legs with my husband and my nurse helping. She took one look at my who-ha and said, “Oh yeah, we are having a baby!”
You guys… I got to reach down and pull her out.
I started pushing, which felt natural to me, and which I actually really enjoyed. I could feel her coming, but I wasn’t in pain – which I thought was amazing. One of arguments “against” epidurals is that they say you can’t feel anything and therefore you can’t push properly. Well, I could feel lots of stuff happening down there, but I felt like I was able to control my pushing so much better because I wasn’t screaming in pain. I cannot imagine what pushing would have been like without the epidural: my pre-epidural pain + vaginal tearing? No, thank you. I felt in total control with my epidural, and after three, big pushes with my husband counting to ten, my doctor told me to put my hands down and pull my baby out! As she was coming my husband’s face was absolutely priceless: jaw on the floor, holding my leg. It was so precious.
So there you have it. That’s how George Philippa Fickman came into this world. My mom filmed the whole thing, but as you can see from the above screenshots I’ve edited, I can’t post the video anywhere because it’s literally JUST of my vagina. It’s like National Geographic called Jan and said, we need the most visceral birth video you can get. Let me tell you, she got the shot… and I’ll treasure it for always.
