My birth story

I've always wanted to write about Myles' birth. Even before he was born I had planned on coming home from the hospital and writing a cute little story about how long it took, how many pushes, and how funny dad's face was when he saw his new baby boy and share some pictures of us waiting, my cool hospital gown, dad pacing, our helpful nurses, my angry face when I hadn't eaten yet after hours of labor....you get the point. The problem with plans though is that they never quite pan out the way you want them to. You can make a birth plan, fill in the blanks and check the boxes of the options you want; epidural: duh, episiotomy: ouch! no!, pictures: gross! no!, mirror: seriously? no! I almost feel like the birth plan is more of the "what you don't want to do during birth" plan.

**DISCLAIMER** If you read after this point I can not be responsible for you being offended, grossed out or over informed. I am putting my birth story on the blog because its therapeutic for me and as each day passes I remember less and less about the 3 short hours it took me to have my son. Also, if you are pregnant now please DON'T read this. There are some very serious and scary things that I talk about and I don't want to spook you. I have been holding off on writing my story because of the close friends we have who are pregnant but again, each day I lose more memory and I just wanted to collect my thoughts and put them into words before it's too late.

 Being the planner that I am I of course had a birth plan and I had it filled out and in my hospital bag at 38 weeks. This was the first time I REALLY thought that Myles might make his grand entry. If you've followed the blog you know that I had a somewhat complicated pregnancy for being an otherwise healthy young lady and being in decent shape. By 38 weeks I had already battled placenta previa, Myles being breech, and multiple kidney infections. By the grace of God none of my infections put in to pre-term labor, my placenta previa migrated away from the cervix enough to allow for a vaginal delivery, and Myles turned head down! Praise the Lord! We got the good news at my 37 week check up and after a quick exam my Dr. determined that I was 2 cm dilated and 60% effaced (softened cervix)-WHAT!!?? I couldn't feel anything changing-other than peeing a million times an hour. Could I be going into labor soon!!?? She smiled, told me to pack a hospital bag and said "Of course babies decide when they are ready to born, not us. But if I had to guess I would say it will be sooner rather than later with the way you're progressing already. I think it's a good time to at least have your bags packed and ready just in case." I was ecstatic! especially because I had just gone on maternity leave and wanted to use as little of it as possible actually being pregnant so that I could have more time with our new baby boy!  I continued to have Braxton-Hicks contractions on and off that weekend and then Monday morning at 0300 I started having really intense, uncomfortable contractions. I tried to reposition myself and go back to sleep but I just couldn't. "These contractions have got to be the real thing" I thought to myself. So, to make sure, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a large glass of water. The last few kidney infections I had caused contractions and drinking lots of water made them better. I decided to try water and a snack before waking up Dean. Two hours later and I was still having the contractions and at this point they seemed stronger and closer together. 7-10 minutes apart. I woke Dean up and told him I thought it was time to go to the hospital. In a sleepy haze he dressed and drove me in. While up in L&D (labor and delivery) I was hooked up to all the monitors and watching my contractions go. Could this be it? Could I really be leaving the hospital with a baby this time. As every contraction came I winced, breathed a little harder, and shifted my body. "This isn't fun, I don't want to do this" I thought. After about an hour of monitoring the on-call resident came in and told us that I had yet another kidney infection but that if I wanted to walk around the hospital a little bit they could see if my labor was progressing. I decided to wait. These contractions were different. I thought that it had to be a coincidence that my labor was starting with the infection, or maybe because of the infection? Another hour and the resident came in to check me. I hadn't progressed AT ALL. It was going on 0800 and I just wanted some sleep. Five hours of these annoying contractions and nothing. So, we went home. I took some benadryl, a warm bath, and then a nap. That Thursday I went back to the Dr. for another exam, visit, blah, blah, blah...She came in smiling "Well, as I said. A baby can come at any time." She gave me the "OK" and said she would see me in another week. I was still 2cm but now my cervix was 70% softened. She also let me know that she was on-call that weekend and so if the baby were to come she would still be the one to deliver. This made me feel better as I was SURE that he would be come before my 40 week appointment. BUT NO. My Dr. was pretty insistent on not scheduling a C-section or even an induction until we were sure the baby would not come on his own. In fact, something that I always liked about her was that even when the odds were against us she let me hang on to the hope that I would have a vaginal birth and not a surgery. However, if you have ever been pregnant you know the discomfort and general pain that is carrying a small human inside of you. So, when the day came that I was 41 weeks I had had enough. I hadn't progressed any more since my 38 week appointment and I thought for sure that after 3 weeks of not progressing that this baby was never leaving my womb willingly. I was tired, sore, uncomfortable, irritable, and irrational. I wanted to do anything I could to have this child! I tried EVERY home remedy to induce labor (SERIOUSLY, EVERY ONE THAT GOOGLE COULD FIND!) and none worked. I thought I had lost my mucous plug (I know, eww.) weeks prior but during my 41 (ugh) week exam the Dr assured me that my membranes were still in tact. Yet another sign that I was destined to be pregnant forever-FOREVER! So with request she stripped my membranes as a last stitch effort to send me into labor and set me up with an induction a few days later in hopes that I would go in to labor before she would have to induce me. Looking back on it I really should have just trusted her more and stayed pregnant. My Dr. was not only a reputable and experienced OB, she had spent years prior to med school as a labor and delivery nurse. If there was one person in this room that knew pregnancy it was her-not me. But my vienna sausage-like toes and fingers and the human that was doing somersaults in my belly reminded me that I was tired of being swollen and tired and blurred my better judgement. I showed up at Via Christi St. Joseph campus for my induction on January 31, 2013 at 0645. My induction was scheduled for 0730. I was ready to have this baby and decided that I would NOT be pregnant in February. Not happening! It was really weird honestly. I walked up to L&D (there was really no need for the theatrics of a wheelchair at this point) and checked in at the desk. "Hi, I'm here to have a baby." Because that's how most people enter L&D:) After getting gowned up, set up for monitoring and stuck (way too many times) with an IV it was time to start my induction. The pictocin was started at a very low dose (so I was told, I didn't care to ask). Just a little FYI when a woman naturally goes in to labor the hormone oxytocin is responsible. So, using a synthetic form of it intravenously like pitocin is said to mimic the effect. I had ice chips in hand and decided to wait for my labor to start. My awesome L&D nurse (who had a canny resemblance to Heather from Real Housewives on New York-yes I told her that) told me to rest while I could because once my labor began I would really need my strength. She began going over my birth plan with me and even joking with Dean about cutting the umbilical cord. "Um..nah I'm good" was his initial response. She kept telling other nurses and residents that Dean was cutting the cord he just didn't know it yet. It was time for shift change and sadly my housewife was leaving. Our next nurse was equally as awesome though and continued the banter about Dean cutting the umbilical cord. Apparently its a must-do moment?? Dean's response was quick and honest, "I'm just here to be her cheerleader and to stay back here at all times." Meaning behind my legs aka away from the "danger zone". My sweet, sweet husband had no idea what he was in for. Just as we were joking about his role in this process my first real contraction came. I'll be honest with you, after this point my contractions are a blur. I don't remember times (other than the time they tell me Myles was born) I don't remember how many I had or how far apart they were. I remember pain. Mind numbingly, piercing, rip-your-body-apart, pain. These were NOT the contractions I had with my kidney infections. Holy labor were these contractions awful. My entire body tightened and contracted with each wave. I was rolling side to side to get some comfort or relief or something-anything! I don't recall holding my breath but I know my breathing was not regular because what I do remember, very clearly was the nurse constantly telling me to breathe and that if I didn't calm down a little more and breathe through my contractions that it was going to harm the baby. Harm the baby? My mind raced. I had to control my breathing. It seemed nothing I did was working though. There are a lot of things that I can't remember from that day but two things I will never forget are the looks that my mom and Dean gave me during my contractions. My mom had stopped in for an innocent, pre-baby visit when she was met with my screaming and writhing. I didn't have to say a word, her face was white as a ghost and she left the room before entering completely. The nurse questioned my pain as I assume she was about to offer an epidural. "7/10" I replied. I really felt like it was an 11/10 but being a nurse I knew that 10/10 is SERIOUS SERIOUS pain and I assumed that I still had some pain left before I got there. I remember this as clear as day because now looking back on it I am thankful for this pain, I know that this pain was NOT normal and probably contributed slightly to my son and I being so healthy even after birth. My nurse looked at me and said "Now Ashley, you've just started having contractions and it could be a long day. If you think you're at a 7 you're probably closer to a 4 because after your water breaks and the baby started to come you're pain will be much worse." I was FURIOUS! How in the H*E#L did she know how bad my pain was!? I was even underestimating! I have never really wanted to harm another human being until that very moment. The contractions continued and suddenly I felt a little wetness. If women poo themselves during labor I thought for sure it was possible that I peed a little during my last horrific contraction. I told the nurse that I thought I had peed and wanted to change the pad under me. She obliged and lifted the sheet, probably thinking that my water was breaking and she would find clear fluid all over the bed. To both of our surprise, there was blood instead. My sheets never got changed.

The nurse picked up her cordless phone and while calmly saying to me "Ashley, it looks like you've leaked a little blood with that last contraction. I'm just going to call the Dr. and update them on how your labor is going." I'm not exactly sure what happened next or what the medical staff had decided at that point but the nurse came back into the room with an anesthesiologist, nurse anesthetist, the resident on-call, and another nurse. Man, babies sure do bring a crowd! After getting to my bed side she told me that they had contacted Dr. Breit and she wanted me to have the resident check me and possible go ahead and insert my epidural if I was dilated to 3cm or more. Now, I didn't tell anyone this but my magic number was 4, maybe 5 if I could handle it. I knew that after getting an epidural many women wait much longer to have their babies because it's a relaxant and it does just that to the body and the baby. After checking and bringing out more blood (I had no idea birth was SO bloody!!) the on-call reported that I was at 3cm. On comes another contraction, more blood, and I decide 3cm it is! Bring on that magic epidural!! I continued to have contractions pretty severely while the anesthesia team set up and with rightful concern for accuracy and safety they (the people in charge:)) decided that I should lay on my side in the fetal position-funny huh??- to keep from jerking or moving while they inserted the catheter (epidural catheter). As the contractions started I felt like I was seeing red, no maybe it was blue, or black....was I blacking out? I know that the nurse was holding my legs still as Dean held my arms and shoulders and I was just trying to keep the pain inside and not move. I can honestly say I have no recollection of how it felt to get an epidural. I don't remember it burning or hurting or pinching or stinging. The pain of the contractions I was having was so overwhelming that I couldn't think about or focus on anything else. As the anesthesia team finished up I was told that I could try to roll back to my other side for possibly a little more comfort (ha! comfort!) As I straitened out my body (I was no longer being restrained) and rolled to my back I felt a pop. My water broke! FINALLY!!! GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME! Also, thank God I just got that epidural-WHEW! Little did I know the party wasn't about to start the way I planned. Here we go again, the plan that didn't go as planned. Cute huh? Now from this point on I remember bits and pieces. I remember faces and phrases but not exactly the entire account. I do remember that after my water broke there was blood EVERYWHERE. It was on the floor, on the bed, on my sheets, on my gown, literally on everything. I remember the resident rushing in (I assume the nurse paged her) and she said "Oh wow, you're at a 10" in a quick, matter-of-fact tone. She told me that my Dr. was on her way and would be here soon but that the hospital laborist was going to help me "practice" pushing until she could get here. Hm...that's odd I didn't know you "practiced" pushing.....ah well. I followed command. I didn't have much time to think about it as the staff pulled out my bed and raised the stirrups. This.is.getting.real. I couldn't feel anything waist down so the staff had to raise and hold my legs in place. They all looked so busy running around the room and I remember my nurse grabbing Dean's arm and saying "Here! Hold her leg!". Um....that wasn't in Dean's birth plan...excuse me...he was supposed to stay behind the danger zone, not deliver our child! Flash forward past more events I don't remember and I have an oxygen mask on. A non-rebreather mask in fact. This must be serious. I start to get really scared. "his pulse is at 80" I hear a nurse say. Now I'm really scared. Why is his pulse dropping??! "Ashley he's crowing, I'm going to use the vacuum with your permition to help him out. We need to get him out in 3 pushes or we'll have to go to the O.R."

HOLY CRAP! This just got real. This is NOT a normal labor or a normal birth. This is serious. I clamped down and used what little energy I had to push but I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't feel a baby, I couldn't feel me push. I had no idea if I was helping or hurting. Quickly the laborist threw a pair of scrubs at Dean (I knew what that meant) and told me that the vacuum wasn't holding suction on Myles' head and we would have to head to the operating room quickly. There was no waiting for a response, no assuring me that everything was going to be ok. This was it. I don't remember going to the OR or leaving the OR after Myles was born but I do remember clips of the events. I remember entering through the double doors into a bright, sterile room. I remember the HUGE light that hung above me and my weight when they transferred me from the bed to the table: 176lbs. I remember my Dr. arriving and yelling "Ashley! I'm here! don't worry! I'm scrubbing in now". I assume by the time they had me prepped and ready that my Dr was ready because I heard her voice talk me through everything. And then, he cried. Praise Jesus our son was ok! "He's crying! Dean he's crying!!" I'm honestly not sure that I actually remember the moment that he cried or the sound but I remember feeling so helpless and knowing that in the other room there was a team from the NICU waiting for my baby. All I could do was try to stay awake (it was really hard!), not throw up (I had already done so several times), and pray. I am not exaggerating when I say that I prayed harder in the short amount of time I was in that operating room than I may have ever done in my entire life. He was born at 10:26 am on January 31, 2013. I know this because it says it on his birth certificate, not because I have any idea what time I even entered the operating room! Dean brought Myles in to me after he was cleared by the neonatologist and I'm told that I doted on my son and was glowing with joy but sadly I don't remember. I don't have a memory from the time I heard him cry until an hour later when I woke up in recovery and nursed Myles for the first time. I missed his first bath while I was "out". Luckily the nurse guided Dean through it and he did an awesome job. I was still pretty lethargic and disoriented when the nurse told us the good news that we would be leaving recovery and heading to our room. Little did I know the room full of people waiting to hold Myles would be more detrimental to our recovery than helpful. We were so happy that our family was able to be meet Myles so soon and be present for his delivery; especially me, being that my parents are divorced and not often at events together-let alone the same hospital! A lot of my memories of the first two days are just as hazy as the delivery. I was in a lot of pain and very weak and tired from all of the blood loss. I had lost 2 liters just on the operating room table! I was very dizzy and had thrown up numerous times that first day. It seemed every time I opened my eyes that the room was spinning faster and faster. It was so thoughtful of our family members to come to the hospital and help out, holding Myles while I slept (which I did a lot of!). But it was also hard on our nursing relationship. For the first few days the only time I held Myles was when I was feeding him. The family members only had a limited time with him so I wanted them to be able to fill up on their Myles love:) I just wasn't aware that the skin to skin contact I wasn't getting could be so detrimental to my milk supply "coming-in". Myles was jaundice and losing too much weight (almost a full pound in 3 days!). We ended up staying a fourth day in the hospital because of Myles' condition to be on the "safe side". I was FREAKING OUT! I know the stress wasn't helping my body to recover but I couldn't help but to worry about this little miracle that had come into our lives. Thankfully day 3 in the hospital we got an awesome lactation consultant who really gave me some amazing tips! (Thanks Deb!) I followed her recommendations and the next morning started seeing results. Myles had gained 1/2 lb back and we were on our way to discharge! It was an emotional roller coaster to say the least and I'm truly sad that I don't have pictures or videos to remind me of that day but in the end I know have it down in writing and a memory is a memory if you make it one:)