On Tuesday morning-the day of his due date-I woke up at 7am to get ready to head to the hospital for my induction. After my shower, I felt a little gush of warm, clear fluid. And then I felt a second gush, so I stuck the towel between my legs and ran to the bathroom. As soon as I sat down on the toilet, I felt another gush. I assumed my water had broken, so I called my husband, who was on his way to work, and he came back home. I called the hospital at 8am and asked when they wanted me to come in. They asked when I could make it and I said around 9:30-10, so they said to come right in. My mom arrived at our house around 8:30 and we hit up the McDonald’s drive thru before driving to the hospital.
After paying for parking, we headed up to the 3rd floor where the maternity unit is. When we got to the front desk, we had to check in and answer a bunch of intake questions. After that, we were taken to the fetal monitoring room, where I lay on a bed and was connected to a contraction monitor and a fetal doppler. I was in that room from 10-12:30pm, and during that time, I saw the O.B. and her resident, as well as the nurse. They asked me some more questions about my pregnancy and the nurse and O.B. checked to see if I had in fact lost any amniotic fluid. It turns out that my water was still intact-so not sure what those three gushes were. The O.B. also checked my cervix a couple of times, and they determined that I was 2cm dilated, but that my cervix was still long and closed, and that the baby was high up. Because of this, they determined that they would place cervadil in my cervix for 24 hours, but I would have to remain in the hospital because if my water broke while his head was so high, there was a risk of cord prolapse.
So I was admitted to the hospital around 12:30pm and I was given the best room on the floor! The staff call it the princess suite, because it was a large corner room with four large windows. Unfortunately, the bed was extremely uncomfortable, as it was a delivery bed and was made to change into a variety of different positions. No matter how I lay, there was always a metal rod sticking in my back. Once I was checked in, I was given my hospital bracelet, as well as another bracelet with my allergy information on it. At this point, Jamie and my mom had gone home to pick up some more stuff since I was in for a longer stay than I had anticipated. At about 2:30pm, the O.B. came back in the room to place the cervadil in. Amanda, my doula, came over later on in the evening to keep us company and to walk around the hospital with me in hopes of getting labor started. Well nothing happened whatsoever that evening and I went to bed. That night I felt some minor contractions, but they were ineffective and fizzled out. In the morning, they checked the cervadil at 10:30 am and said that my cervix was shorter and thinner and that baby had moved down a little bit. Another cervadil was placed and they said they would check this one after 12 hours. That day was pretty boring as well. Lots of sitting around and waiting for something to happen. To pass the time, I tried to rest and sleep as much as I could and I watched a bunch of movies on my laptop. That evening, my doula came over again and brought us Chinese food for dinner-which was a nice treat because hospital dinners are nasty. Amanda and I walked around the hospital some more, in hopes of getting the baby to move down. Later on, I was able to leave the hospital and Jamie and I went across the street to get slurpees. Later that evening, my cervadil fell out and a couple hours later, the O.B. came in to check my cervix again. At this point, she said that I was 3cm and had made more progress and I was finally ready to begin oxytocin! At 2:30 am, oxytocin was started and I went to sleep before the contractions would kick in and keep me awake. I slept until around 4:30ish and at that point, I was feeling some pain. At 6am, my O.B. came in to check my cervix and as I got out of bed, my water broke all over the floor. When she checked me, she said I was 5cm already and I was fully effaced! Soon after, contractions were coming strong and close together. I was barely getting a break in between them. Because of the oxytocin drip, I was confined to the bed with the contraction and fetal doppler monitor going. Around this time, I decided to try the gas in hopes of getting some pain relief, as I was unable to try to labor in any other positions that may have helped with the pain. Unfortunately, it did nothing for me and I found that breathing through the contractions was more effective. I am proud of myself for handling the contractions so well. By 7:30 am, my doula was there, I had two new nurses enter my room, and my midwife showed up shortly after. I also had the Obs coming to check in on me once in a while. Since the gas was not working, I asked for an epidural, and thankfully, the anaesthesiologist arrived shortly after to put it in. Man was it hard to lay cramped up in the fetal position having contractions while waiting for the epidural to kick in. They say there is no dignity in child birth and they are right! I felt like I had half the hospital poking and prodding me and staring at me in all my laboring glory. Honestly though, by this time-I honestly did not care at all, I just wanted the baby out! Because the baby’s heart rate kept dropping, I had to have an internal heart rate monitor placed on his head, and because of the epidural, I had to have a catheter. It seemed that I progressed fast and by 10:20ish, I was fully dilated. We waited until 12pm to start pushing in the hopes that the baby would continue to move down. After two and a half hours of pushing in different positions on my back and on my side, the Obs came in at 2:30pm and said that the baby kept moving positions and would not descend into the birth canal. Prior to this, they had come in and two Obs manually turned the baby in hopes of changing his position, but he continued to move. It was also difficult for them to determine which position he was in, as he moved so much. Because he was so high up, there was no way they could use any other interventions such as forceps or a vacuum.
They told me after 30 hours of cervadil, 12 hours of labor, which included 2.5 hours of pushing, that I would have to have a C section. The ob answered all my questions and then had me sign consent waiver forms. Soon after, I was transferred to a stretcher and wheeled down to the operating room. Once there, they transferred me onto the operating table and started setting up. They put my arms out to the sides and they placed the sheet over my chest to block my view of the operation. The anaesthesiologist gave me a bunch more freezing medication in my epidural and then they briefed each other on my case before they started my surgery. Once they had started, I felt nothing except for the uncontrollable shaking in my arms from the freezing medication. Also, I had a cramp in my chest, but I was assured that it was normal and the midwife massaged it so the pain went away. I also threw up during the c section, which was no surprise, considering that I had been vomiting all throughout my labor and delivery. Soon after, Jamie came in and I felt a lot of tugging and pressure on my belly. After a couple minutes of that, I heard my son crying and I saw him being taken to the warming station to be weighed, measured, and cleaned. They passed him to Jamie to hold and he brought him over to me. I was too weak to hold him but I got to look into his scrunched up little face and talk to him. At the sound of my voice, he stopped crying and opened up his bright blue eyes to look at me. Jamie and the baby both left, while they finished my surgery. I layed there for what felt like another half hour while they sewed me up. I heard them talking about how much blood I had lost, and they explained that since I was in labor for so long, my uterus was tired from contracting, and because my son was so big, they had to cut a larger hole in my uterus to get him out. They were trying to determine whether or not I would need a blood transfusion, and they tried to place an IV in my arm. I was so out of it that I couldn’t tell them I have horrible veins and needed a specialist to put it in so they poked me four times in my right arm and once in my left before they finally got it into my left hand, right above my oxytocin IV. 10 days later and my arms are still bruised.
After this, I was wheeled into a recovery ward where there were a bunch of other patients recovering from surgery. This was by far the worst, most traumatising moment-perhaps of my entire life. I was stuck in some random hospital ward with a bunch of other sick people, violently shaking from the chest up and numb from the chest down. I was probably more exhausted than I had been in my entire life but I couldn’t sleep-I felt like I was awake, yet asleep at the same time. I kept asking for my husband or my baby and no one would tell me anything. I had no idea where they were or if they were okay. I had no idea how much my son weighed or how long he was. I was wondering if my husband had told family and friends all his stats and I would be last to know. I was wondering if my parents had already met the baby and had I missed out on that too. I was wondering how many people had gotten to see and hold my sweet baby before me. I was wondering if they were feeding him already, without my consent. My midwife came down to check on me and told me she would be back with some information, but she never returned, even though I asked for her. I was told that I couldn’t be transferred back to my room until I could bend my legs so I was wiggling them as much as possible, praying that feeling would return soon. Finally, after a couple hours, my husband was allowed to come visit me and he did such an amazing job following my wishes. He had simply told my family that me and baby were recovering and that he would update everyone once I had a chance to meet and bond with my baby. My parents had not seen the baby and the only people to hold him were my husband and my doula. No one was sent any pictures or information and the baby was not bottle fed. I will be eternally grateful to my husband for safeguarding as many firsts as possible. Thankfully, at this point I could move my legs enough and I was wheeled to my room with my husband beside me.
I was able to finally hold my sweet boy once I got back to my new room. I counted all his fingers and toes and kissed his little nose. I saw the color of his hair and noticed he had mommy’s nose and lips, but daddy’s hair and chin. They told me he weighed 9 lbs, 2 oz and was 21 inches long. He is the most beautiful baby boy I have ever seen and I am so in love with him. The midwife helped me breastfeed and express some colostrum to feed him with a syringe.
Looking back, I cannot think about his birth story without crying. I don’t know what it is-perhaps it is the post partum hormones or the mixed emotions I feel surrounding such a momentous occasion. I had been dreaming about becoming a mom for so long, and I had nine months of pregnancy to plan and prepare for the biggest moment of my life. But nothing went according to plan and I wonder if I had just been more patient, and waited for labor to begin on it’s own, if I would have been able to have the birth experience I had wanted.
Originally I had wanted an all natural water birth. I had wanted to be able to walk the baby down and move into different positions during contractions to alleviate the pain and pressure and to allow my body to progress and open up. I had wanted to labor and deliver in the tub. Most of all, after such a journey, I wanted my sweet boy to be born into the world and placed on my chest for me to marvel at. I had dreamed of the moment when I would be the first one to hold him, where I would look over at my husband and together we would cry tears of joy. Where I would feel the euphoria of having conquered labor like a champ and having the sweetest reward to show for all my hard work.
Don’t get me wrong, I will always look back on August 8th, Jaxon’s birthday with so much joy. I am eternally thankful to have such a beautiful, precious gift-a son. No matter how he was born, I am lucky to be healthy and to be holding a healthy baby. It is hard for me to accept my choices and wonder if it is my fault that I ended up with a c section. I was assured that all the factors leading to the operation were unavoidable and that I did everything I could to push the baby out-but at the same time, this nagging doubt lingers.
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