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Ryland Alva's Birth Story
I think it was Halloween when I started to really think he may be born soon. I was at the last big party at 319 A Street in Fort Point, dressed half-heartedly as Juno and just felt very pregnant that night. A lot of people asked when I was due and I said "now." I was technically only about 38 weeks at the time but I knew it could be soon--both based on how I felt, the fact that the baby was in fact full term and both of my sisters had gone into labor at about 39 weeks with their first kids.



That Wednesday, October 5th, I went to work as usual and was having what felt like minor menstrual camps all day. I took note of them but also kind of disregarded them thinking it was best not to get too excited given first labors can be very slow and drawn out. None the less when Jarina, my coworker, asked if I would go with her and a couple of other work friends to dinner at the Publick House, I had to really think about whether or not it was a good idea. I talked to Robbie about it and told him what was up and after thinking it over figured the worst that could happen is it would speed things along or kill some time while things were getting going. Besides, as soon as I thought about their mac & cheese I had to have it and I don't think I was really believing this was labor starting.

At the restaurant I was definitely feeling crampy - but again, it was nothing that was ringing out to me as "labor" and more like, "sure seems like labor could be any day now." Oddly enough, I ended up ordering the beef stew, not the mac & cheese despite craving it all day. I think this was some how fortuitous. Regardless, my workmates now call the boy the 'beef stew baby.' After dinner, I said good bye with all three saying, 'good luck if you go into labor tonight!' Of course Jarina, anyway, had taken to saying this to me every day I left work for at least a week prior.

I got home that night at about 10 o' clock and Robbie and I sat talking at the kitchen table. I told him about the cramps with the same lack of enthusiasm I was honestly feeling. He, in turn, told me about the dream he had had the night before in which he was passing around our son and sharing to everyone in the room that his name was Alva. We looked up the name and found out that it means 'brightness' in hebrew, has some portugese ties (at least according to a few baby name sites) and is Thomas Edison's middle name. We also both thought of Tony Alva and liked that connection too. I tend to put a lot of stock in dreams and with no other middle name really jumping out, felt good about agreeing to making this his middle name. (For the record, Ryland we got from Ry Cooder.) We stayed up a little later than usual talking about this and our days and I think we finally got to bed around 1 a.m.

Some time between 5:30 and 6 a.m. I woke up to the sensation of a slight fluid gush. I have no idea why this woke me up it was so subtle. My first thought was, 'was that my water breaking?' and so I tried pushing on my belly to see what happened and sure enough, it forced more fluid out and then I knew it was amniotic fluid and not discharge. I woke Robbie to tell him my news and after showing his excitement, he went back to sleep. It was, after all, 6 in the morning and he knew from Hypnobirthing and our conversations that this was just the beginning of a potentially very long haul and his strength would be needed later.

I wanted to go upstairs to use the bathroom but got the sense I would make a mess on the floor so got up very carefully. When I did make it to the bathroom, a good amount more fluid came out. It was a little cloudy but it didn't seem to me that there was any merconium in the water so I had every intention of chilling at home until I no longer felt chill. I went into the kitchen to get myself some food and caught my dad leaving for work. Surprised to see me up so early, he asked what I was doing up and I told him, "my water just broke." He had been jokingly asking me if I was in labor for days now so I don't think he even believed me. But asked if I wanted him to wake my mother. I said no, and off he went to work.

I got out my laptop to email work and let them know I wouldn't be in and then made myself some toast with peanut butter and planned to go back to bed to get some more sleep. It was only about 6:30 at this point. I'm pretty sure I was having minor contractions throughout all of this but I don't really remember them.

My first real memory of labor starting is when I attempted to lay back down to sleep. I was surprised to find this really uncomfortable already. Robbie and I had planned all along to relax in bed through early labor and I immediately could tell this wasn't going to fly. I just wasn't comfortable lying down. Instead I went upstairs and got in the shower. I had a few contractions in there but they were totally tolerable. I was mostly in the shower to kill time and enjoy the hot water, not because I needed pain management. After about 15 minutes I got out, dried off and went down to our sun room where I would stay for the next three hours or so. It was then that I realized I may want to call my midwife and let her know what was up.

This is when things started getting tougher. I would guess it was around 9:30 now and I realized I didn't have my midwife's number written down anywhere convenient (dumb!!). I got the computer out again and looked up the office and called the main number only to be put on hold. The contractions where definitely getting stronger and I no longer felt like I could talk through them and had no idea what I would do when the lady came back on the line. So instead I hung up and tried to find another number -- I knew there was a hotline somewhere for women in labor. Fortunately right about then, Robbie came upstairs and I put him to the task of trying to find that number and make the phone call. I think he was honestly shocked I was already so agitated. Neither of us believed things could really be progressing as quickly as they seemed to be.

Valaree was the midwife on call that day, the one my mother hoped we would have because she's the most experienced. She wanted to talk to me to gage where I was at in labor and I had a two contractions while on the phone with her that she helped me through. I think they were about 5 minutes apart by then but we had been timing them kind of casually and I initially told her they were fluxuating. So like us, Valaree expected it might be a while and suggested I sit tight. I had no problem with this suggestion. I had wanted to labor at home as long as possible and it had only been a few hours so far. I figured I had a long ways to go still and felt I was doing ok. Robbie went and got my hypnobirthing CD and let me chill on the couch listening to it through contractions while he got stuff ready.

I sat there hugging a pillow with a blanket over me zoning out to the CD and it really seemed to be doing the trick. The contractions came in waves, just like we had been told in class, and only got really unbearable at the peak. In between I tried to rest/sleep. I felt very calm and not the least bit stressed about labor or birth.


Me and Robbie in the sunroom while I was midway through labor. FYI: The black eye was from something hitting him in the face when he got up in the middle of the night to check his blood sugar. Not from me! My facial expression in this kills me.

Around 12, 12:30 I wanted Robbie's help getting through contractions. Which initially only meant keeping me company but eventually meant applying counter pressure to my back and rubbing my legs and feet. By this point, my mom was up and had already gone to the gym and come back. They brought me water to drink and Robbie made me some more toast with peanut butter and brought me a banana that I could eat only a bite of before it grossed me out. ("Make this go away" I said to him, which has been one of several jokes from this day since.). My mom timed my contractions for a while and I think they were about 3-5 minutes but I was coping well and felt good.

My mom, knowing how important moving around is for getting the baby to move down, suggested I get up and try and walk around. This did NOT feel good. (Which of course usually means it's helping progress things more quickly.) I immediately wanted to get back on the couch but my mom encouraged me to tough it out. Robbie helped with counter pressure here but I told my mom around then that I thought we should think about going to the hospital soon. She tried to assess how far along I was and I think because I had been so calm on the couch she figured it couldn't be very far. Throughout all of this I was feeling very calm -- especially between contractions -- this paired with everyone's expectations of a first labor gave my mom the sense I should wait it out a while. (This is a common theme of my labor). I just insinctively knew things were moving quickly and reasoned it would be nice to not be in hardcore labor in the car. But oh well, it all worked out for the best.

To help pass time, and because she had laundry to finish, she suggested I get in the tub. Robbie came up with me, I got in and made it through maybe one contraction before wanting out. The tub felt way too small and there was no way I was getting comfortable in there. My mom came up and I sat on the toilet thinking I had to go I guess? In reality, all the bloody show i had left was coming out and my labor now felt extremely active with maybe only a minute between contractions. Now we were ALL in agreement, it was time to go.

My mom helped me get dressed while Robbie gathered our stuff and we all got in my mom's car and headed to Newton Wellesley. It was about 1:15 and labor was hardcore now. I spent the whole drive on my knees demanding back support from Robbie through the contractions. Sitting was no longer an option. It's only about a 15 minute drive to the hospital but of course we had to run into a construction site on the way! And naturally, the cop working had to use the portapotty right when we pulled up. My mom just went ahead and drove through and we were at the hospital by 2 p.m.

Robbie and I were dropped off and made our way up to the 5th floor, stopping every minute to weather a contraction (and fend off orderlies insisting on offering me a wheel chair. Sitting down was essentially my idea of hell at this moment. After telling the first three people who asked that no, we did not need a wheel chair, Robbie stopped the fourth one short before they could get the words out saying, "I dare you to ask her.") The whole harried transistion took maybe five minutes and then we found ourselves in antenatal, aka the 5th circle of hell, waiting out my 20 minute strip.

This stands out as one of the most challenging moments and in hindsight, this was probably transition. I knew from class that I had the option to use a ball or something other than being flat on my back on the table through this but things were so active now it was tough to cope with moving and I think in my head it would be over faster if I just toughed it out in the assumed position. But the contractions must have been particularly tough because my hands were getting numb from breathing too rapidly. Valaree came in to see how I was doing and she and my mom helped me through contractions. Valaree left to get the tub in my room filled but before I knew it, I was involuntarily pushing on the table. I asked the nurse if she had what she needed and by then Valaree was back, just in time to see me push through a contraction. It was clear to everyone I was definitely truly in labor, and clear at least to my mom and Valaree that I was probably fully dilated.

We headed to the birthing room and this time they forced me into a wheel chair. But they had no luck forcing my ass into the seat. I instead rode to the room on my knees facing backwards, butt first.


This was when we first got into the birthing room and is the only picture of me in that jonny. It was off in a matter of minutes I was just too hot!That's my midwife Valaree, seeing how I'm doing. I was pushing at this point and took the first few contractions standing up.

My mom helped me get undressed and a nurse helped me into a jonny but I was so hot from labor that I almost immediately ripped it off and threw it on the floor and spent the rest of my time naked. Unfortunately, I never got to test out the tub Valaree had filled. I was regularly pushing through contractions now, taking the first few standing while leaning on the bed. Robbie busted out the fan we had brought with us -- basically the only thing we packed in our 'bag o labor tricks' that we actually used. Of course I think my mom also suggested Robbie put my Hypnobirthing CD on at this point but it was long past the time when it was actually helpful and it was almost annoying. I wish I had thought to request some music I like to be on during pushing but I hadn't thought to do that before hand and by now it was way too late. But Robbie must have somehow sensed the Hypnobirthing CD wasn't the right thing and switched to a yoga CD we had, "the bamboo flute music" as he calls it. Definitely better.

Pushing was not what I was expecting and thinking back I realized that I had focused much more preparation on labor thinking pushing was all instinct. It is for the most part but I found it much more physically difficult than I had thought and might have benefitted from reading more about different women's experience pushing. All I had in my head was stories of women pushing for 15 minutes, or only X number of pushes and on the other end of the spectrum, my sisters' 3 hours of pushing. Valaree did what she was meant to do and had me try a bunch of different positions but in the moment, I started to worry she was doing this because what I was doing wasn't working. This was ALL me. First of all, true to tales, you lose all sense of time so what seemed like close to three hours really was not even an hour. But I wasn't vocalizing what was in my head so no one was able to tell me what was reality.

After the first few standing, involuntary pushing contractions, we got on the birthing stool. It seemed like such intense force between what my body was doing on its own and my intentional baring down pushing. And yet I felt nothing that made me feel Ry was coming down. It just seemed to me like I was exerting a lot of energy and getting no obvious indication it was doing anything. I don't know why I needed this validation now given I made it all the way through labor not worrying about knowing anything about dilation. But I definitely psyched myself out a bit during pushing.


The second of several positions we tried pushing. On the birthing stool with Valaree and Robbie supporting.

We moved from the stool to the bed, set up for squatting and tried some contractions on my knees, leaning against the bed and then some in the supported squat position with the bar to rest on. About now it seemed like the involuntary pushing totally stopped and when a contraction came it was all me doing the work. Valaree went ahead and checked me at this point, the one and only cervical check I had my entire pregnancy, to verify that I didn't have maybe a lip of cervix left or something and confirmed that not only was I fully dilated, the baby's head was right there. She prompted me to reach in and feel for myself and sure enough, there was a squishy baby head, not even that far in there. And yet STILL, I was feeling discouraged. It wasn't even like I was impossibly tired. I must have just thought this part was going to go faster and was both worried about actually feeling the whole 'ring of fire' thing and the possibility that I would go past the 3 hour mark and be told I needed a section. I actually even thought at this moment, 'I can't do this, maybe I should just get a section.' Fortunately I did not actually say this outloud and soon after I finally felt his head come WAY down.

In the supported squat position, resting between contractions on the squat bar.

Holy crap is that a sensation. All I can say is 'rock hard bowling ball in my pelvis.' Once you feel this you need no further motivation to keep going because the idea of his head staying in that spot is unbearable. But it also felt a bit like the unmoveable mass and it was at this point that we got into that head rocking in and out game. Valaree asked for a mirror thinking a visual might help me over the final hump but when all i could see was a black circle maybe the size of a half dollar I wanted no more of that. The visual I had in my head was much more reassuring.

Finally Valaree and my mom suggested I try the classic, on your back and holding your knees position and it was really affective. (Which much like with the walking around from earlier in labor also meant it was much more intense feeling.) I didn't want to push like that again but it was undeniably getting the job done. Before I knew it the nurses were gathering the equipment necessary for Ryland's arrival and my mom, Robbie and Valaree were urging me on. As his head was ready to be born, Valaree had me breath for a while to let my perineum stretch and then with the next push the head was out. One more strong push for the shoulders and there he was, being handed to me on my stomach and screaming his arrival. When Valaree announced the time of birth I was shocked, 3:26. It was still totally early and I had been pushing not much more than an hour. My whole labor was 9 hours and 26 minutes from when my water broke. Pretty fast for a first baby.



One warm and wet Ry fresh out of the oven.


Robbie cut the cord after it had stopped pulsing and we had time to get to know each other.

The first moments after he was born are kind of a blur of activity. It's really just a shock when you're done with all of that hard work and periodic pain and are handed a baby. Robbie and I just basically stared at him, held his hand and my brain eventually came back to reality. I finally felt present and very alert as I imagine the endorphins of what I had just gone through kicked in. Unfortunately this is also the point when my generally smooth labor took a minor detour towards problematic. I birthed the placenta and was hemorhaging quite a bit becuase my uterus didn't seem to want to contract. The nurse and Valaree took turns massaging it but it wasn't doing its thing. Valaree theorized my bladder was really full and pressing on my uterus preventing it from clamping down. They tried a shot of pitocin in my leg and then cyotec suppositories in my butt, but that didn't do it so she asked if I could get up and try and pee. As soon as I stood up I knew I was going to pass out. I had lost quite a bit of blood (every time they pushed on my abdomen there was a big gush) so they got me back up on the bed, brought me more juice and suggested they do a straight catheter. This is basically a catheter inserted in your urethra long enough to drain your bladder and then it's removed.

At this point I didn't care what they did to me although every prod was really irritating after going through labor and birth. But my priorities about interventions were mostly centered around what Ry was going to be getting, not me. Now that he was out and in my arms I didn't care what they used on me. And the catheter, perhaps combined with the cyotec and pitocin, did the trick. And now all that was on my mind was food and hanging out with my two boys.


Me after he was born, having some juice while Ry was checked out and weighed.

My Mom took a ton of very gory pictures including birth's equivalent of the money shot. I'm grateful for the pictures because it's interesting to see what everyone else was seeing while I was in my head experiencing it (though seeing the head coming out is gnarly). But there are not many pictures of Robbie and I getting to know Ry that are very great. They're all taken from really weird angles and have my boobs in them. Oh well.

As things turned out, my dad was on my way home from work at this moment so mom had him stop by the hospital to meeting his latest grandchild. Eventually we were wheeled to our post partum room, Robbie was sent to get himself some food from the cafe downstairs and I sat there watching Ry sleep obsessing over the grilled cheese I had ordered. I was totally starving. And it was so bizarre to me that it was not even dinner time and there I was holding my son, watching the evening news. Robbie came back with his food and an 'It's a boy!' balloon for me. I ended up eating half of his sandwich while waiting for mine. But finally my food came, a huge tray filled and I ate nearly all of it and continued to eat like this until I left the hospital. The blood loss definitely left me feeling drained and it felt like the food was critical to getting my strength back.

I could go on and on about the details of the 48 hours we spent in the hospital (was it even that long?). A lot of people have very vivid memories of the moment their first child was born. For me my strongest memories are of this time with Robbie, Ry and I in the hospital.