Baby B's Birth Story (Part 3)

(...continued from Part 2)

6:40pm Christy performed another cervical check, and I was finally dilated to 7cm. She was about to go off shift but called my OB to discuss the next course of action. The proposal was to restart the Pitocin at 1 unit and gradually increase while monitoring. When Christy left the room, Jacob and I discussed what we thought was best and agreed that we would try 1 unit but really wanted to hold out and not bump up to 2 units without ample monitoring of how my body responded. We were in no rush! We talked about the peace of God which transcends all understanding (Phil 4:7). It was so helpful to recall Scripture and remind ourselves that God was in control regardless of the circumstances. I was so thankful to Jacob for bringing that verse to mind, as it was important for me to step out of the chaos mentally and remind myself of the Truth.

7:00pm Christy introduced me to our new nurse, Liz, who would be with us through the night.

7:30pm Liz restarted my Pitocin drip at 1 unit, and the contractions started back. Baby B responded favorably (for awhile).

9:00pm Liz explained that she had to reduce the Pitocin level to .5 units due to hospital protocol because the contractions were lasting too long again (around 90 seconds). We weren’t at the 3-4 minute duration that led to the previous scare, but the contractions were getting too long. She said we’d do another cervical exam at 9:30pm. We maintained the Pitocin at .5 units, and the contractions evened out. Liz could not believe the level was so low and still working!

9:30pm The cervical exam proved that I was 100% effaced, ~9cm dilated, and +1 station. Since we knew Baby B could not tolerate me lying on my right side or getting up to sit on the ball, we moved me to a position that had me sitting up a little straighter (albeit still on my left side) in hopes of helping him move further down the birth canal on his own. Liz left to update the OB but told me to tell her when I started feeling the urge to push or really strong downward pressure (how was I supposed to feel the urge to push when my whole torso and upper legs were numb?!). The OB advised Liz to perform another cervical exam around 11:15-30 or when Baby B’s stats ramped up to show he was ready to make his entrance, so we waited some more. Another popsicle (grape) and more ice chips...

11:15pm Liz came in and performed another cervical exam when she saw Baby B’s heart rate drop noticeably, the timing between contractions get shorter, and the intensity of contractions increase. Finally, I was 10cm dilated(!).

Time to *practice* push. Okay, *practice* pushing = real pushing in my book. We used three contractions in a row to practice pushing with three pushes per contraction. With the first one, I seriously felt like I was doing nothing even though I was trying. In fact, I felt like I was trying to try, I looked at Liz for some kind of reassurance that SOMETHING was happening. She coached me through the three contractions, and we got Baby B’s head to crown. Then....Liz told me to stop while she called the OB.

STOP?! While he was right there ready to come out?! Wow…I don’t know that I will ever be able to articulate what that felt like!

11:48pm The OB arrived and prepared for delivery, checking the table of tools a nurse had set up. There were a bunch of tools I hoped she wouldn't have to use (forceps, vacuum, etc.), and then there were the scissors. We had discussed beforehand that Jacob would cut the cord, so she handed him the scissors - so cool!

And then, we waited. And waited. Annnndddd waited. We had to wait for another contraction, and of course it took forever.

11:58...11:59…

12:00am It was time! I used this next contraction to start pushing, Four pushes, and our son James came out at 12:02am on 5/4/16, weighing 7 lbs. 8 oz. and measuring 19 1/2”. He was beautiful and perfect, covered in a thin layer of vernix and announcing himself with a cry that was music to my ears.

The rest of the events unfolded really fast. James was placed on my chest almost immediately after birth, and I was overcome with emotion. I was laughing and crying, and I just could not believe he was finally here! In my arms!

In the meantime, I had asked to see my placenta, so once it was delivered, the OB held it up for me. (I had to confirm with Jacob whether or not the doctor needed me to push another time, but he said she was able to just guide it out without any additional pushing.) What an incredible organ! Created specifically to provide nutrients for James. It was his lifeline! And it was HUGE! (Yes, we did get a picture, and no, I’m not going to post it out of respect for those of you with weak stomachs.)

The OB informed me that I had a second degree tear - completely normal and nothing to worry about. She stitched me up, and congratulated me on a smooth and quick delivery.

While I was being tended to, Jacob went over to the warming station with James for his Apgar test, footprinting, etc. James rocked a 9 on the Apgar!

Then, the nurse brought him back to me, and I tried nursing him for first time - what a foreign experience, and yet...it came naturally! I was able to get a little bit of colostrum in him before they wheeled him off to the nursery for a bit more cleaning up and testing.

Now it was time to get me unhooked from all the machines and take me down to the postpartum wing. Liz unhooked the catheter and epidural and asked me if I needed to use the restroom. I couldn’t tell, but she said I needed to try. She and Jacob led me to the toilet (with a measuring bowl in it - lovely) and turned on sink water to help. She said that if I didn’t use the restroom, I’d have to get another catheter (NOT what I wanted to hear). So, I determined that I would and took my precious time.

It took about 5 minutes, but I was able to go! When I stood up, I got really dizzy, so Liz tried to use my IV line to inject more fluids. Unfortunately, the line had rolled out of my vein, so the drip caused searing pain as it released into my arm. I cried out and she stopped the drip. Another nurse ran and brought back apple juice to help get me some electrolytes/sugar. I gulped the carton, got in the wheelchair, and we proceeded down the hall to the postpartum wing.

The next two days were full of joy and love, beeping monitors and feeding little James, pictures and lullabies, little sleep and taking care of my own recovery as well. But those are stories for another day!

Praise God for His gift of life and protection for little James! My heart is full.

Baby B's Birth Story (Part 1)

This is the story of our firstborn son’s labor and delivery. We affectionately called him Baby B during the entire pregnancy.

At 39w2d, I had been experiencing contractions for two weeks. That’s right: two weeks! These were not the typical Braxton Hicks “practice” contractions but they also weren’t full-on, painful labor contractions. Over the phone, my OB’s nurse calmly (and perhaps with a little sarcasm) explained to me, the first-time mom, that the contractions fitting the infamous 5-1-1 bill (go to the hospital when your contractions are five minutes apart, lasting for one minute each, and have been occurring at that rate for one hour) would be painful.

Okay, let’s get some perspective on the word “pain.” As a former athlete who has shattered her left wrist in seven places, dislocated her shoulder twice, broken both feet and her elbow in one graceful fall...in Olive Garden...on a date (a story for another time), and is currently experiencing chronic pain that began a year and a half ago, I’ve got a pretty high pain tolerance. What if my pain threshold is different than the norm? What if I don’t know what they mean by “pain” and actually end up having Baby B at home because I don’t make it to the hospital in time?

When I went in for my 37-week appointment, the OB monitored my “contractions” and with a look of surprise came to me saying I really was having real contractions. Feeling somewhat justified, I waited for next steps...but the advice remained the same: wait until the contractions were painful. The alternative two signs of true labor would be bleeding or my water breaking.

I was disappointed, to say the least, and still worried I wouldn't be able to distinguish “painful” from not-painful contractions. So, I started fervently praying that my water would break so there would be no doubt when I needed to go to the hospital. It turns out only approximately 15% of women actually experience their bag of waters breaking on its own at the start of labor. For most, the doctor has to break the bag manually after labor begins (with either “painful” contractions or induction). It was a very specific prayer, but I prayed it regularly: at mealtime, before I went to bed, every hour in the middle of the night when I woke up to go to the bathroom because Baby B was apparently squeezing my bladder in utero, etc.

The OB also said that I was 90% effaced and 1 cm dilated (see here for definitions), so I felt like I was at a really good point and hoped to go into labor soon.

The last two weeks before Baby B arrived were the toughest. He was positioned well: head down, facing my spine, and deep in my pelvis. This last piece - being deep in my pelvis - led to heightened hip/back pain on top of my pre-existing pain and ultimately put me on crutches because I could no longer support my own weight on the left side of my body without excruciating pain. While it was ALL worth it, I simply could not wait to go into labor, and my prayers became even more intense.

When there was no visible progress made by my 38-week appointment, I was deeply discouraged. At this point, I was hardly able to hobble to the bathroom on the crutches and had my heart set on hearing the magic words “Go to the hospital - you’re in labor!” The OB had actually said on two occasions now that there was only a 50/50 chance I would even make it to see her at my next appointment but more likely at the hospital...in labor. I held it together while the doctor was in the room but fell apart when she stepped out. I SO wanted to meet our little guy but I also wanted him to come on his own, in his own time, as naturally as possible. More waiting lay ahead.

The night before my 39-week appointment, my prayer was answered in the wee hours of the morning. I was awakened by the ever-present, hourly need to use the restroom and grabbed my robe when I got out of bed. As I put on the robe, reached for my crutches, and hobbled my first step, the robe swished against my left leg...and felt wet. I took another step with the same result. Surprised, I finished the 10-step hobble to the bathroom and (without going into too much detail) discovered a very obvious clear fluid drip...my water had broken! Praise the Lord!

Below is a time-stamped outline of the events that transpired.

3:45am My water broke - hallelujah! Since we are currently living with my parents while trying to sell our house after moving back to TX, I woke up my mom to get some initial confirmation on my water breaking (since her water broke with my sister and me). We were both fairly confident that is what had happened. Excited, I woke Jacob up, called the after hours line at the OB’s office to confirm I should go to the hospital, and we got things together to leave.

4:30am We arrived at the hospital. In my excited but definitely still preggo-minded state, I confirmed the L&D floor with the security guard downstairs (who can remember little details like that at a time like this?), and we headed to the second floor. When we got to the L&D registration desk, I received some sympathy glances from the nurses since I was hobbling in on crutches, but I also got the “Awww, it’s a first time mom who thinks her water has broken” response when I provided my information. A nurse took me back to a triage room, handed me a gown, and told me to get changed while she gathered a few items.

Once I was changed, another nurse came in and explained that she was going to test my fluid to ensure my water had truly broken. She pulled out a piece of green litmus-type paper and explained that when it came in contact with the fluid, the paper would change to a bright blue if it was amniotic fluid (the result of a broken bag of waters) or would not change color if my water hadn’t broken. She barely touched the paper to the fluid, and it turned bright blue - confirmation! I was relieved that we were in it for the long haul, knowing we wouldn’t leave the hospital until Baby B was born.

The next step was for the nurse to perform a cervical exam to confirm my current state of effacement and dilation. While trying to perform the exam, the nurse said she actually could not find my cervix… Which meant that she went to get another nurse to try.

Let's just say that having two cervical exams back to back is not fun.

Anyway, the second nurse was able to find it and determined that I was 1 to 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. This was not what I had expected because my OB had been telling me I was 90% effaced for two weeks. However, I have learned that because cervical exams are a little bit opinion-based, the results can be different from person-to-person. The nurse did say that the baby’s head was so low she didn't know how I was able to walk. I felt a little bit more justified in using the crutches for the past two weeks!

(As Paul Harvey always said, stayed tuned for “the REST of the story…”)