Sybil's Birth Story: Part 2

So, after being at the Birth Center only about an hour and a half or less, I started pushing. I pushed in different postions; in the tub, on my side on the bed, on my back, on all fours, etc. Each time I would change positions (aside from all fours) Sybil's heart rate would go down. So, I had to stay in one position--on my hands and knees--for the entire time. As I pushed, Andrew and Carlie were right there by my side encouraging me and helping me breathe. I had no concept of time. I was in the zone, determined and ready.

At this point my parents had arrived and were in the waiting room, along with Stefan and Tristan (Andrew's friends). My dear sister-in-law Becky was in the room with me as well as my two midwives and one nurse, and Andrew and Carlie. I had everything I needed and I pushed with all I had, but Sybil was just not coming down. After four hours, Mary Signe my midwife said to me, "Linds, we have to do something else; she's not coming down and we can't change positions because her heart rate is going down. We need to transfer to the hospital." Immediately I felt defeated.

Here I was trying to have an all-natural birth with as little medical attention as possible, and suddenly that wasn't possible. I was in the midst of pushing, with one contraction on top of the other, and now I had to get up and walk to the hospital basically (the hospital was across the street). So, slowly I got up and walked to the car, while stopping to push in the middle of the hall and the driveway on my way. I pushed once in the car too as I sat on my knees and held on to the headrest behind me. I was so miserable but still determined to get this baby out. I thought I might even be able to push her out in the car before we got to the hospital. We pulled up to the hospital doors and they had a wheelchair ready for me. How was I supposed to sit in a wheelchair when there was a baby coming out of my crotch?! I somehow sat down on my side and held myself up--with the little strength I had--on the side of the wheelchair. Martha wheeled me in through the doors and as we hit the lip of the doorframe, I lost it. It hurt so bad I started crying. I had hit my physical limit...and emotional.

Seeing the faces of those I loved looking at me terrified apparently scared the crap out of me too--and gave me insight into what I might look like. I saw my mom and dad with indescribable looks of sadness and pity. I saw Tristan and Stefan with horrified faces as they wheeled me through the doors. I started bawling. They got me up to the room and made me sign a bunch of papers and answer a bunch of questions. Then they told me what my options were--c-section or vacuum extraction. I looked at my husband and told him he had to make the decision, but I really wanted to get her out. We both decided c-section. A few minutes later the drugs they gave me kicked in and I was able to speak and smile. A nurse came in and encouraged us to at least try vacuum extraction before we did a c-section so that I could try to have her vaginally one more time. I reluctantly agreed. They let me rest a few minutes and then applied the vacuum and I started pushing again. I was still shaking uncontrollably from being weak and exhausted. I hadn't eaten since 5 pm the day before and I threw that all up. And I hadn't had any water for about an hour. So, physically I felt depleted.

They made me push with and without contractions and a woman was pushing on my tummy. The vacuum popped off and we had a failed attempt. She put it back on and we tried again and failed. Then she said, "Lindsey, we will try one more time and if it doesn't work, we have to do a c-section." We failed again. After that point, everything was a whirlwind. I signed more papers, they prepped me and gave me more drugs, and cut me open within minutes it seemed.

Andrew and Martha were in the operating room with me. I felt such a peace from the Lord, even though I could've been so scared. Sybil was coming. I was about to meet her now. When they cut me open, she reached her hands up and started crying before they even pulled her out. Her cries were the sweetest sound to my tired ears. I started to cry, but this time, tears of joy. There she was--full head of hair, long and skinny--just as we had predicted, just like her father. They wrapped her up and put her next to my cheek. I kissed her and my tears ran onto her tiny face. She was finally here and nothing else mattered.

I thanked the God who created her and sustained me, and rested while they sewed me up. Martha stayed with me and cried with me while Andrew went with Sybil. She was safe and was with daddy. I could rest. To be continued...