Little Dude's Birth Story

Throughout my pregnancy, I knew I wanted to avoid induction.  I'd been induced with the Sunbean, and while the experience wasn't terrible, it wasn't what I wanted this time around.  Yes, I'm one of 'those women' who want a 'birth experience'.   I just really wanted a chance to see what my body could do on its own.  My doctor was totally on board, and said she'd only have to schedule an induction if I got to 42 weeks.

When I was dilated, effaced, and put on bedrest at 35 weeks, I just totally assumed I'd have Little Dude soon after I was released from bedrest.  37 weeks rolled around, I hopped up off the couch....and walked around dilated to a 4 for 4 stinkin' weeks.  But that beats a NICU stay.

As my due date crept closer, I started to put together my birth plan.  I really wanted to labor at home as much as possible, but I tested positive for the Group B Step, and so I needed at least two rounds of an antibiotic.  The two rounds would take about 5 hours {they are given 4 hours apart}, and so my doctor instructed me to run, not walk, to the hospital as soon as my water broke or I was having regular contractions.  The Sunbean came pretty quickly after things started moving, and she wanted to make sure I had time to get the antibiotics, especially since I was already significantly dilated.

Anyway, Friday of Memorial Day weekend rolled around, and I woke up pregnant.  I'd been walking 3 miles a day for the past two weeks, trying to convinced this little guy to get out already.  MacGyver's family was coming into town that weekend from Detroit and Chicago, and we headed over to his parents' house Friday afternoon.  In the evening, I went with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law to deliver a meal to a friend who had just had a baby.  As we got into the van {my sister-in-law's new Honda Odyssey}, I felt a little somethin' and wondered if my water was leaking.  I made a joke about it, and figured it was probably nothing.  As we left to come back home, the same thing happened.  Hmm.

Not long after we got home, I stood up to go to the bathroom, and my water broke.  I was so happy for three main reasons:  the only thing that got dirty was my pants {not the new Honda Odyssey}, I was almost done being pregnant, and I *knew* I was in labor {none of the annoying guessing games}.  I came out and announced the news, and MacGyver and I headed home to finish packing our bags.

The final 'belly shot', taken right as we were headed out the door.

We got to the hospital, and were placed in a triage room.  The bonehead nurse that admitted us tried to tell me that my water didn't actually break.  I think I somehow attract these type of people.  I pretty much told her I wasn't leaving, and so she checked me.  I was at a 5, so that helped convince her.  I was so happy....a 5!  Halfway there!!

Facebooking in triage...before the pain set it.

She busies herself getting me admitted, and I called my wonderful friend and doula, Anna, and asked her to come on in {and bring me a snack while she was at it}.  This nurse, and another nurse that was even more ridiculous, stuck me 4 times before they finally gave up and put my IV {needed for the antibiotics} in the crook of my arm.  I'm nearly two weeks postpartum and I still have bruises.  Sheesh.

After the dynamic duo got done admitting me and such, they informed me there was only one open room.  I opted to wait about an hour for one of the natural birthing rooms {sooooo glad I did}.  After it was available, we headed in and got set up.  My nurse there was seriously fantastic.  She didn't push me to stay in bed or even in the room.  She made herself available, but stayed out of my way.  Love, love, love her.

By this time, I'd had round one of the antibiotics, so I put on some of my own comfy clothes and walked the halls with Anna and MacGyver.  It was getting pretty late at this point, probably around 11 or so, and the halls were mostly empty.  It was so nice to be in control of my body, and to be walking around to help my body progress.

I was so giddy with excitement at this point.  My body and my baby were deciding when it was time.  My body was progressing without the help of anyone or anything.  If  you've never gone into labor on your own, and you have the opportunity to do so, do it.  Such an awesome feeling.

For the next few hours, I alternated with walking around, a birth ball/heating pad combo, and the whirlpool.  I've heard the whirlpool called a 'midwife's epidural', and I totally agree.  I think being in the hot water cut the pain in half.  Still toe-curling, mind you, but slightly more manageable in the pool.  At this point, I was really feeling the pain, and my contractions were about every two minutes.

At around 4am, I asked to be checked.  I was dilated to a 7, and I had an overwhelming desire to get an epidural.  I can't tell you what changed my mind, but all I knew is that I really wanted an epidural.  I was dealing with the pain, and progressing well, but I just knew I needed that epidural.  Anna and my awesome nurse tried to convince me that I could do it without the drugs, but I insisted.  After seeing how everything played out, I really think Heavenly Father helped me make that decision.

By 5:30am the epidural was in and I feelin' good.  MacGyver was snoring on the couch, and Anna was nodding off in the recliner while I chatted her ear off.  What a good sport.  By 7am, I was ready to go.  Little Dude was still pretty high, though, so they let me 'labor down' for an hour.  Not that I cared....I wasn't feeling much.  At around 8, the new OB/GYN on call came in.  Let's just call him Dr. McAwesome.  He decided that since the baby wasn't moving down on his own, I should try pushing for awhile.  Let me just interject here and remind you that I only pushed for about 15 minutes with the Sunbean.  This would prove to be a different birth on all accounts.  So I started to push for awhile.

 I always get mad at MacGyver for taking pics while I'm in labor, and then I always love looking at them.

Like, for 2 hours.  At the end of those two hours, things started getting a little hairy.  Little Dude's heartrate was dropping into the 40's and 50's.  That's less than a beat per second.  And it's really, really frightening.  Dr. McAwesome decided that I needed to rest for an hour, with the hopes that the baby's heartrate would stabilize.

At the end of the hour, Dr. McAwesome also decided to turn down my epidural a little.  I was skeptical, but I already had this man so high on a pillar I could barely see him.  He calls the anesthesiologist in, and asked him to turn it down to a 10.  For reasons unknown to anyone but him, this ridiculous anesthesiologist decided 6 would be better.  I don't know anything about what these numbers mean...I just know that 6=pain.  Like might-as-well-have-not-gotten-the-freaking-epidural pain.  Well, that made my heartrate go up, which made the baby's go down.  Not.  Good.

Dr. McAwesome stepped in, and they upped the epidural, plus gave me a boost of something else.  Phew.  I started to push again, and just totally started losing control.  The pain was unbearable, and I was so stressed about my baby.  Hearing your child's heartrate drop to dangerously low levels with each contraction is just plain scary.  They starting waving consent forms in front of me for a c-section, which just freaked me out even more.  There was about 30 minutes of mass hysteria as everyone tried to calm me down, figure out what on earth was going on with my baby, and as they screwed around with the levels on my epidural.

It got to the point where I was so scared that I was begging for a c-section.  I was just frightened, and needed to know that my baby was okay.  I honestly felt like he would be safer out than in, and I just wanted to get him out safely.  Dr. McAwesome to the rescue, though.  He decided to crank the epidural back up, and also give me another injection of who-knows-what to help me relax.  Love.  That.  Man.

Everyone but MacGyver and Anna left the room for a moment.  MacGyver gave me a priesthood blessing, and that was when everything started to turn around.  There was peace in the room, and peace in my heart.  I was still in pain, I was still very worried, but I was calm and in control.

Dr. McAwesome and a few nurses came back in and set up for delivery.  At one point, a nurse started to get the stirrups out and pull down the big overhead light.  Dr. McAwesome said, "Women have been delivering babies for centuries without stirrups and lights.  We're not using them today."  Seriously.  Is he not the most perfect doctor for me?

I pushed for another hour and a half.  For the last half hour, I felt every little thing.  And, pardon me, it hurt like hell.  I hadn't slept in over 30 hours, and I'd been pushing since 8am.  It was now past noon.  That last half hour was so frustrating.  During every contraction, Little Dude's head would appear, and then pop back up when the contraction was over.

At the end, his heart rate was terrible.  I'm still surprised they didn't take me back to the OR.  Finally, finally, finally, his head was out.  You'd think the work was done.  Oh, no.  This boy has shoulders.  Ouch.

I looked down, expecting to see a pink, screaming baby.  What I was was a silent, dark blue baby.  Nothing on earth prepares you for that moment.  Nothing.  I realized then, for the first time, that I might not come home with a baby.  It had never occurred to me that things might not end well.

Little Dude's cord was wrapped tightly twice around his neck, and then around his body and legs.  Dr. McAwesome couldn't even get his finger between my baby's neck and the cord to loosen things up.  Thankfully, just a few tugs here and pulls there, and Little Dude was breathing on his own and pinking right up.  I understand that it was just a few seconds - 30 at the most - but those few seconds were an eternity to me.

So we finally knew what had been happening.  With every contraction, our little guy would move down the birth canal.  But the further he moved, the tighter the cord got.  His heart rate was dropping because he couldn't get the oxygen he needed.  Little Dude's Apgar scores were 9 and 9, so he's just as healthy as can be.  But for 30 long, terrible seconds, we just weren't sure.

From there, everything went just like I wanted.  I held and nursed him before anything else happened, and he was assessed and cleaned from my arms.  He latched on just like a champ, and hasn't really stopped nursing since.

So here's what I think.  I think that had I not gotten the epidural, I'd have had a c-section.  My body wouldn't have been able to settle down, and Little Dude's heart rate would have dipped even lower.  Without the line for the epidural, I would have likely been put under for the c-section.  Faced with those two options, I'd choose the epidural again.  That's why I like to think that there was some divine intervention happening there.

I also have to credit Dr. McAwesome.  With another doctor, I think I'd have ended up with a c-section.  He was calm and reassuring.  I loved his approach, and appreciated how much he allowed my body to remain in control.

And of course, Anna.  Without her, things would have been different, too.  She kept me calm and in control, and she has at least a one-third ownership of my child.

My recovery has been quick and pretty painless.  I'm loving life as a momma to two cuties, and I'm thankful that I was one of the lucky ones to got to bring home a healthy and happy baby.