Birth Story

My pregnancy was wonderful but it certainly didn't want to end! At 41 weeks, my son was positioned stubbornly face-up and did not want to budge.  I was dilated 1 cm, no signs of contractions, not even a Braxton Hicks that I could feel.  My baby was happy to stay in my uterus as long as he pleased, thank you very much. 

As much as I wanted him to come naturally, as I got further and further past my due date, induction seemed like the best option.  My doctor personally did not like letting pregnancies go past the 41 week mark, due to the increased risk for the baby as you go past your due date, and though my son looked healthy, the ultrasound scans estimate that he was all ready 9 lbs, and with him being face up, if I let him grow  in there much longer, they were saying a c-section might be the only option.  I knew that heavier babies had been born naturally, but I also knew his positioning would make things more difficult.  Not to mention the way he was pressing against my back and arteries made it so laying on my back for a long period of time made me dizzy or faint.  Even staying still long enough for the NST was enough to make me light headed. 

So, for all those reasons listed above, it was decided I would be induced at the 41 week mark.  Unfortunately, this coincided with my doctor being away for three days on a conference!  I really dislike seeing doctors other than my own, because even through out the pregnancy, I found most other doctors didn't agree with my views, and tried to push their own views on me. Still, I didn't want to wait so long that I'd be forced into a c-section, and knowing that my son would be monitored while I was in the hospital prior to delivery put my mind at ease, because I was getting to the point where I was feeling something was wrong.  I was feeling nauseous all the time, and more and more I was being told it wasn't safe to carry beyond 42 weeks.  And again, I feared the longer I waited, the more likely I was to end up with a c-section. 

So, on the morning of September 27, 2010, I went in to the hospital to begin induction.  I had read so many accounts of mothers who were in the same situation as me, who weren't progressing naturally, and a few hours of pitocin were enough to put them into full labor and have them deliver within 6-10 hours.  I was hopeful, probably too hopeful, that things would go smoothly.   I knew it could take much longer, and while I was OK with that, I was excited to see my son. 

I went in at 730 am.  It was slow.  Hours on a pitocin drip and I still wasn't even feeling contractions, though I had dilated to 3 or 4 cm.  I was confused.  I was at the max level of pitocin and I still wasn't feeling anything.  The monitor was measuring some contractions, but nothing huge.  I sat there, hoping to feel something, but the only thing I felt was hungry.  It's recommended that you don't eat the night before an induction, so the drugs will work better and so any anesthesia you may require won't make you sick and vomit. This is the first thing I regret listening to.

I was starving.  How could the really expect me not to eat, I was 41 weeks pregnant!  If I went into labor naturally, I would not have known ahead of time that it was coming, I would have eaten.  Yet they still give you anesthesia then don't they? But I was worried, that if something should go wrong and they needed to get my baby out right away, that I shouldn't create any unnecessary complications.  I don't think I'll bother next time.

So there I sat, starving, wishing to feel anything but hungry.  I shouldn't have wished so hard.  As I've now found out, the problem with pitocin is that it is administered as a steady drip, where as the natural oxytocin your body releases to start labor is released in bursts- much better at creating contraction. 

I knew pitocin contractions could be more painful, but I did not expect it to effect me like it did.  I felt like I got hit by a train.  In a matter of minutes, the level of pitocin in my body must have hit that magic level and I went from feeling nothing, to cramping, to feeling pain all over my body.  It wasn't that feeling of tightness over my uterus and maybe around the bottom of my spine I was expecting.  It was everywhere.  My stomach, my entire back, my head.  And I was still starving.  Everyone told me once the contractions start I would forget my hunger, but I didn't, it only added to how terrible I was feeling. 

It wouldn't have been that bad, but the pain didn't go away.  That was the one thing that I thought was guaranteed about labor pain.  It was supposed to come and go.  Every technique I knew about dealing with pain had you focus on each individual contraction, and to focus on either the time until the contraction was over, or how this contraction was different from the last, or something along those lines.  But after half an hour, the pain still hadn't developed any hint of lessening or worsening.  I didn't know how to handle that. It just made me think that something was wrong.  The monitors said my baby was fine, but I still felt like things were not as they should be.

My husband was worrying, and hated seeing me in pain.  This was supposed to be a happy experience and while we knew it would be tough, the unexpected nature of my pain had us both worrying.  At my last check I was still only 4cm, and despite my pain the contractions on the monitor didn't look any stronger.  We decoded after about an hour and a half of the constant pain, that getting an epidural would help me get through the process a lot easier.  I took it fully expecting to be in labor for quite a long time to come, and had lost all hope of it ending any time soon. 

After getting the epidural, I went up to 5 cm, and stayed there.  I watched TV, and watched my monitor that was still going along at the same level of contractions, relieved that I could once again feel nothing but hunger. I was allowed a popsicle and  some ice chips, and tried every position under the sun my nurse could think of the help me progress, but still to no avail.  Around 8 pm at night, the epidural started to wear off.  The pain was dull, but this time it did have a sense of getting stronger then weaker and so forth, which I took as a good sign, though I was getting worried that the pain was all ready coming back and I was getting no closer to giving birth. The doctor who was working the floor that day said she was getting concerned about my lack of progress, and that we'd start talking about 'other options' if I hadn't dilated any further after an hour. 

I wasn't sure what 'other options' were, and figured I had plenty of time to think about it after she came back and talkd to me.  I hoped I would dilate in that time and that we wouldn't have to discuss anything at all, and put the idea out of my head, instead watching House while being propped up on a birthing ball, looking like what I'm sure is one of the most ridiculous things my husband has ever seen.  Because of my returning pain, I was given a button I could press once every 15 minutes to administer more medication through the epidural sight, and I stay focused on making it through each 15 minutes to get that extra boost.

The hour passed quicker than I realized, and again I was still at 5 cm.  The doctor then told me that she wanted to give me a c-section, because between my son's size and position, it seemed as if he was not coming out.  I was taken completely off guard.  My doctor had made it clear that she expect labor to possible take over night, possibly into the next day.  What was going wrong that made my doctor want to start a c-section this early?  Admittedly, I had been in labor for 11 hours, but that was nothing compared to what other women had been through. 

The first thing my brain started to ask was how long she wanted to wait before starting the c-section, to which she replied that she wanted to started immediately.  More panic and shock that something might be wrong stopped my mind in its tracks, and she told me she was leaving to page the anesthesiologist before my mind had a chance to catch up with what was happening.  A nurse started asking me to sign papers and explain to me that because the epidural was wearing off I was going to be getting a spinal, which would completely numb me and I wouldn't feel and thing.   I started crying and I was told not to worry, that  I'd see my son soon. 

By  the time I was done signing the papers, the anesthesiologist was in the room to give me a spinal and my husband was taken to get prepped to go in the operating room with me.  Not once was I asked if I wanted a c-section.  I felt that I didn't have a choice, and what with them rushing into it, it seemed as if it was an emergency, like something was wrong.  I tried to ask why I was getting a c-section and I was told I'd have to talk to my doctor, whom I didn't see again until I was all ready in the OR. At 930 I was being wheeled in to the OR, less than half an hour after I was informed I would be getting a c-section.

My husband still wasn't there.  I kept asking where he was but they said they had to wait before letting him in, I asked why and they just told me he'd be there soon.  By the time my husband walked in, I was all ready opened up, and he got a nice view while coming in the door. I was having mild trouble breathing, so I had to use most of my energy to keep myself calm.  I couldn't talk above a whisper.

My son was born at 1002pm.  They started to lower the curtain so I could see him, but as they started to lift him towards me the doctor said he was making too much of a mess and told the nurses to go clean him off.  I saw his little purple foot and blood dripping onto the curtain before they stopped and took him.  He was on the other side of the room, where I couldn't see around the curtain. My husband could see him, and was whispering in my ear reassuringly the entire time. 

When I asked to see him, they said the nurses were checking him out and he looked healthy.  At 1020 they announced they were taking him back to my room and said my husband could go with them.  He looked at me, but I could all ready see them wheeling the cart out the door of the OR and told him to go with our son, barely getting a glimpse of his now pink skin wrapped in white from across the room.

I started crying, but quickly realized that crying only made it harder to breathe and focused on staying calm.  I could feel my body shaking quite a lot and I was told that was normal. I could hear them talking as they finished removing the afterbirth and sewed me back up, but I didn't understand most of what they were saying. It was 1050 before I left the OR and was wheeled back to my room, and I was dying just to see my son and hold him for the first time. 

He was in a cart under one of those warming lights while the nurse taking care of him was typing on a computer, and my husband stood next to him and held his hand.  I asked if he had gotten a chance to hold him yet, and he said yes.  I asked to hold him and the nurse said that I could once she was done with whatever she was doing on the computer. I was too tired and numb to make much of a fuss, and being able to see my son, albeit from a distance, was enough to keep me calm.

It was 1101 when I got a chance to hold him for the first time, almost a full hour after he was born.  Once he was in my arms he didn't leave them until they had to bring me to a different room later that night.  He fed enthusiastically despite all the medication that had been in my system, though it would take a while for him to latch correctly.  I didn't care about anything else but holding him and feeding him.

I loved the nurse who was there that night in the recovery ward.  She was in every 30 minutes to check on us, while my husband slept.  It was very helpful as there was no way I was sitting up, never mind getting out of bed.  From that time on, it was all about my son.  I spent 3 and a half days bonding with him and feeding him as much as he wanted. 

I actually recovered very quickly from the c-section, and after the first 24 hours of sleepiness wore off, my little boy was just as active as any naturally born baby.  I still look back and wish I could have had him naturally.  As it would turn out, there was no emergency.
 
I haven't had depression since having him and I don't cry often, but when I do think about it, it's one of the few things I cry about.  And my baby will just look at me and smile as if to let me know it's all OK, that it didn't hurt him.  He's a very happy, active baby now and (as far as we can tell) there have been no long term effects on him.  He's so well behaved, and he rarely cries.  I've been blessed with this perfect little boy and I love him with all my heart. 

UPDATE: I'm sorry that this comes across as such a negative experience.  Once I had my son I kind of pushed all the negative thoughts I had about having a c-section out of my head, and I just never really knew how to bring it up to anyone after to talk about it, so now that I'm writing about it a lot of those feelings are coming out.  The c-section was painless, and more convenient, it makes sense why it's an option, but I just wish is was presented as a option and not a necessity, and I want anyone else out there who may find themselves in the same situation in the future to know that they do have an option. 

I'm not trying to say not to get a c-section if it's an emergency, but try and make sure your doctor takes the time to talk to you about what's going on.