On Friday, 11/18, my water broke somewhere around 6:40 a.m. at the same time I started noticing time-able contractions. Right away they were 3 minutes apart and lasting 45-55 minutes. I called my midwife at that time and she asked me to time them for an hour and to call her back. I called her back at approximately 8:00 a.m. to let her know they were still 3 minutes apart lasting almost a minute. We also called my doula and they both got there by 9:00 a.m. My midwife checked me at 9:20 and I was at 3 cm but she said, "What color has your fluid been?" and I said, "Clear, streaked with red." And she said, "Not brown? Look at this." So I got up and looked at the pad and it was totally brown. I wanted to cry! She said it was meconium and I told her it did not look like that earlier and she assured me it just meant they had to keep a closer eye on things and would listen to the baby's heartbeat more often. I was a little nervous but figured she's seen this before. Throughout the day it did seem to get less brown and more of a yellowish color. When she checked my BP she also said it was "up" but said it was OK and did not tell me what it was. I was a bit nervous about that because at my appointment two days prior it was also "up" and I thought that it was at the level where a home birth was no longer safe. I guess I felt if I had to go the hospital I'd rather know sooner than later.
I labored for what felt like forever, in the tub, out of the tub, in the shower, taking walks around the neighborhood, upstairs, and downstairs. It seems strange but my favorite spot seemed to be the toilet. At one point my doula put a pillow on the back of the toilet and I straddled the toilet (with lid closed) backwards. I knocked a candle off the back of the toilet which fell and chipped the porcelain right off the tub! Oh, well, I have my battle scars and the tub has its battle scars. My doula fed me bites of food in between contractions and urged me to sip on drinks after each contraction. I drank several bottles of water, Gatorade, and Recharge while in labor. I even threw up a few times which the doula assured me was a good thing. The contractions were intense but I feel I was handling them well. At the next check I was 5 cm (1:15/1:30 p.m.) and at the next check I was 7 cm (4:45/4:50 p.m.). While I was being checked I felt like I could keep going as long as I was making progress but I did say all the typical things like, "Who would do this a second time?" and "I can't go on." At one point I said an epidural would be delightful and could someone remind me why I didn't want an epidural. My doula laughed at me and rattled off a bunch of reasons to which I kept nodding. Everyone was there to encourage me and tell me how great I was doing. I had my husband, my mom, my doula, and the two midwives. The midwives were pretty hands-off just kept checking in on me once in awhile but giving me privacy. My doula was with me for the most part but she left me alone for a bit a few times as well.
At approximately 6:30 I was in the shower and I remember screaming that my butt felt weird. Everyone assured me that was good, that the baby was moving down. I did not like that feeling one bit but liked that it meant progress!
At approximately 8:30 my midwife gave me a tincture. I did not ask what it was. I had sort of withdrawn at that point, was just concentrating on labor.
At my last check (around 11:30 p.m.) my midwife took my BP, listened to the baby's heart rate, and checked my cervix. After the BP and HR checks the midwives just looked at each other. I caught their glance and remember just knowing something was wrong. After the cervix check (which showed I was still at 7-8 cm after hours of being there) my midwife started talking and said she had a few concerns. She reminded me how our goal was "safe birth, not home birth." 1) My BP was up to 160/100. 2) The inside of my vagina was very hot. 3) There was still a good amount of meconium in the fluid. 4) The baby's heart rate wasn't good (hovering in the range of 160-170). She said it was time to think about going to the hospital. I said, "OK, where are we going?" because we had two back-up plans: Plan B, where things were going OK but moving too slowly where we'd go to the "home birth friendly" hospital an hour away, and Plan C, where we went to the nearest hospital. My midwife said we were going to the nearest hospital. I said OK and then said, "I never even packed a bag." I was so sure it was going to work out at home I guess. They assured me I did not need much, just my toothbrush if I wanted it and not to worry about clothes. I threw some things in a bag very calmly and we went downstairs. I was so calm in fact that my midwife said, "See how calm you are now? When you get to the hospital, you cannot act that calm." I think my contractions literally stopped when I found out I was going to the hospital. I was down on the first floor at this point waiting for everyone else to gather all their belongings and I said, "I know I'm having a C-section." My midwife reassured me that was not necessarily the case, that out of her clients that have to transfer, 50% are still able to deliver vaginally. (She has a 10% transfer rate.) My husband and my mom and I got in my husband's car, the doula left (after explaining to me the midwives would act as my doulas at the hospital), and the midwives went in another car. In the car I lost it. I started getting hysterical saying I knew something was wrong with my baby and I'd never forgive myself. My mom and husband quickly assured me he (we still didn't know it was a he) would be just fine. My husband even ran a red light which made my mom and me scream!
We got to the hospital and checked in. I followed my midwives down the hallway to triage. Someone told us I could only take one person with me so my husband said, "She's my wife, I'm going." We left my mom and the midwives behind. I was so focused on the baby I never even turned to look at them. The woman who took us back showed us to a curtained-off area and said for me to get undressed and put on a gown. I asked her if I could use a bathroom first and went in there. Then I went back to my little "room." I got undressed and lay down the bed. A nurse came in and put a monitor on my stomach for the baby, inserted an IV in my right hand, and put a blood pressure cuff on. Different doctors came in and asked me the same questions. The contractions were unbearable at this point because they forced me to lie down because my BP was so high. At first they continued to talk about a vaginal delivery and I thought at this point I'd have to get an epidural because I didn't know how else I could deal with the contractions. At least at home I could move and change positions. Someone did ask me if I wanted an epidural and said they assumed I did not (I guess knowing how I felt about natural delivery since I had been trying to have a home birth). I asked about the risks and asked if I had time to think about it and they said yes.
I never got to see my mom or the midwives after that point until after my baby was born. I can't remember why. I know they kept asking for updates. I think we were told they could not come back. I (always the people pleaser) told my husband to please go out and tell them they could leave. I hated feeling like they were just sitting out there waiting but in hindsight I wish I would have asked them to stay a bit longer or fight to have them brought back but I don't think there was much time and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have let them no matter how much I pleaded.
I was transported to another room (later was told by my midwives it was likely L&D) where I experienced the worst pain ever when they tried to insert a monitor on the baby's head via my vagina. I had about three female doctors and multiple female nurses around me. I don't know why I noticed it but it did seem funny how it was all females. I screamed, "Is that a needle?" I really don't know what it was but it felt like needles repeatedly stabbed into my vagina and it nearly brought me to tears. The baby wasn't responding like they wanted and my BP had gotten even higher. (I think my husband said it was up to 176/100 at that point.) So they recommended C-section and I readily agreed. I was worried about the baby but I also was getting to the point of exhaustion where I couldn't remember what I wanted anymore; this was all new to my husband and we had no support people there to center me. I just remember thinking, "It will soon be over." One nurse had the fun task of shaving my nether regions. It's weird how I remember this but she said, "You did a good job." It was funny because I had attempted to do that a few days before but could not see what I was doing so I had no idea if I had succeeded! Apparently she thought I had.
My husband was told to change into scrubs and that they'd bring him back later. They wheeled me into an OR (I think it was OR #1) and the room was cold. They got me on to the table and the anesthesiologist told me he'd give me the spinal between contractions. I remember going numb shortly after. They put something over my arms (it looked like plastic tubing) that pumped heat over my arms. So I was nice and warm even though the room was so cold. I kept telling someone that I couldn't see to remind my husband to get the camera. That was all I could think about. I kept staring at the clock on the wall too, so sad that I had missed having my son on the 18th. (It was well after midnight at this point.) I love the number 18 as our wedding day was 10/18 and I thought it would be cool if our son had the birthdate of 11/18.
Eventually my husband came in and sat on a chair marked "Dad's chair." I said, "Do you have the camera?" and he assured me he did.
My sense of time is way off here. I have no idea how long I was in triage, how long I was in L&D, and how long I was in the OR. I remember certain things very clearly but the timing is not one of them. I only was able to insert times on most of these happenings because my doula and midwife kept notes. Once I got to the hospital I have no idea!
I did not even realize the surgery had started. I heard the doctor say, "Congrats, Dad, you have a son!" My husband was very shocked because he thought it was a girl. He went and took some pictures and cut the cord and brought me a picture of my screaming baby boy on the scale. He said he looked like my 3-year-old-nephew and I had to agree. His hair looked so blond in that picture but after he was washed up we saw it's much darker. They brought him over to me for a glance and then someone (a nurse I imagine?) brought him right up to my face for a kiss. I kissed him and it felt so surreal. I couldn't believe he was MINE.
So my little boy was born via Cesarean section at 2:17 a.m. on 11/19, weighing in at 9 lbs., 2 oz., and measuring 21 in. He is gorgeous, has dark hair and big bright eyes. They look blue for now but I imagine they could change. He has my husband's nose and is a good mix of both of us. (His birthdate, height, and weight are all 1s, 2s, and 9s. Maybe he wanted to wait until the 19th to be born.)
Even after delivery my BP did not go down for awhile. I had to be on "mag" for 24 hours which was horrendous but I got through it. They started that when I was in recovery around 5:00 a.m. and said I had to be on that for 24 hours and I was not allowed to get up at all so I had a Foley catheter inserted. They said the "mag" was to keep me from having a seizure. Then I developed an infection (no one ever told me what it was exactly but I wonder if it had to do with the "hot" vagina and the meconium/amniotic fluid issues) so I was on antibiotics til Tuesday morning. My little guy was on antibiotics until sometime on Monday. I was so glad when his IV could be removed. Every time he rooted he would start sucking on it! We were released Tuesday afternoon.
It took us most of the day to name him. We had a name chosen for a boy and a girl since before we were even married. Once I got pregnant though it was hard to stay settled on a name and I came up with another boy name which my husband also liked. So when it was a boy we did not know what to name him! We did decide sometime before the day was out though and went with our original choice. Our son's middle name is my husband's first name.
Going back to the birth, I did not really get to see and hold the baby until a few hours later, I'd say sometime after 6:00 or 7:00 a.m. I was upset to hear the nursery staff had told my husband that the baby had low blood sugar and had him feed him a bottle of formula (while I was still in recovery). I wound up allowing him to have formula a few more times though over the next few nights when I was unable to take care of him. I gave him formula once the first night we were home but he hasn't had any more since. I've been strictly breastfeeding since then.
While at the hospital I had several episodes of "sweats" where I'd soak through the sheets. They said it was from the "mag" as well as hormones. Thank God it's only happened once since we got home. I had to have an ultrasound on my legs one day to make sure I did not have blood clots; I was taken to that by stretcher. I think that was Sunday afternoon at 3:00. And then the next day I had to have a chest X-ray at 11:00 and I was taken to that by wheelchair. I took my cell phone to my ultrasound but did not take it to the X-ray because the ultrasound was so quick and I was back in no time. What a mistake not to take it to the X-ray. I was taken right in to the X-ray and then parked in the hallway. I was still so tired from the "mag" that hadn't all the way left my body yet as well as the Percocet that I fell asleep in the hallway by myself. I was shocked when I was finally rolled back into my room at 12:25 nearly an hour and a half later. My husband is saying, "We have a problem, the nurse is upset you haven't fed the baby so they made me give him formula but he keeps pushing it away." I burst into tears because of course I wanted to feed my baby but someone had left me in a hallway on a different floor in a different building of the hospital! I took the baby and nursed him immediately but then someone was coming in and trying to put my antibiotics on. I was on three different antibiotics while I was there and some lasted 30 minutes and one was an hour. All I wanted to do was get a shower and no one would let me because of the strict antibiotic schedule. I fed the baby and the nurse said he was rooting and was still hungry so I fed him on the other side. I was a little peeved at her for being upset I wasn't there to feed him but for not doing anything to find me! And then a lactation consultant came in and told me he was still hungry even after that and was trying to give me all these tips. Someone else was trying to draw blood. I was just done! I gave the poor girl trying to get my blood and my nurse both an attitude and told them I needed to get a shower as I had guests coming and I could not give them any blood or take any antibiotics right then. Yeah, right. I had no say in the matter! I was basically told I was sick and I had to get better and I was not having a shower. It was kind of a shock to me. I did not GET that I was sick, honestly. I just thought everyone felt like crap after having a baby. My husband told me later that he was so freaked by my blood pressure. He has asked them if they noticed it and they said, "Yeah, we're trying to get it down before she has a seizure." Scary!
I felt kind of tricked by my one nurse. She had acted like I could get up after I got off the mag which should have been 5:00 a.m. on Sunday. But I did not get taken off for hours after that. And then she never came back to help me get up. When she finally did I was in the middle of another room switch. (I was in three different rooms while I was there.) I think some nurses did finally come and help me wash myself off and wash my hair. I couldn't actually shower yet.
When I got a shower on Monday afternoon I noticed my milk had come in. Wow! My boobs felt huge and heavy and warm. I had to show my husband. I was so pleased because I had heard with PCOS many women don't get milk or do but don't have enough.
We did have guests every day we were there except the last day. My parents, youngest sister, oldest brother and his wife came the first day. The next day a friend visited, then my mother-in-law, and then another friend. The next day my brother-in-law came, then one of the midwives, then my friend from the previous evening came back, and my parents and youngest sister returned as well.
I love my little guy so much. I cried on the way home. I couldn't believe we were going home and that he was mine! And my husband is a great dad and has been such a huge help to me! Nursing is going pretty well considering he was fed two formula bottles before I ever even got to hold him. He seems to eat a lot but I don't question it. Every time I see him start rooting I feed him. My milk came in on Monday afternoon when he was about 2.5 days old. I feel very full all the time, never seem to experience "letdown." But he has the right amount of pee and poop diapers so I know he's getting enough. He has his days and nights mixed up and does not like his Arm's Reach cosleeper bassinet at all. Every time I think he's settled at night (after nursing on both sides) and I set him in there he wakes up crying in mere minutes. My mom suggested swaddling him tonight and said maybe it's that and not the bassinet itself so we'll see. We just have a few things to learn. I just LOVE being his mommy though. I cry often when I look at him, when I think of how a year ago I was so depressed while trying to conceive & battling infertility, then how I finally got pregnant, and then how I could have lost him (although my husband keeps telling me I was in more danger than our baby ever was). He is just the most precious gift I've ever received and I'm getting teary just typing this!
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