It always seems difficult to decide where to start. Where does one life event begin and others leave off when everything seems so intertwined? So I will take a stab at a beginning, but the foundation for this journey has been built on years of events that happened before.
Our dear Madeline arrived into the world July 27th 2005. By a planned pre-labor cesarean section due to doctor fear of macrosomia, AKA big baby. To sum up the events, my pregnancy was high stress, high intervention, and completely driven by the OB team I had chosen. It ended in the intervention of all interventions. Needless to say, I do not feel that I have completely healed from the emotional aftermath from that experience, but have grown enough, learned enough that we vowed to never repeat that path again.
It took a good two years, including a move three states away, a job change, and a new house before we even considered going down the path of trying for another child. We had fertility issues and miscarriages before Madeline and knew that most likely those would persist. In summation, we mourned the loss of three more angels after we started trying again. The third ended in my second D&E at 10 weeks. We decided to stop trying. To put away the thermometer. To stop the drugs. I stopped paying for the $$$ a week acupuncture and traditional Chinese herbs. I started looking into adoption, unable to continue with the heartache.
And then the miracle happened. Somehow, after baby dancing just once, somewhere in my cycle, we found ourselves expecting. Best guess states that it was around Easter. A miracle. We followed our early pregnancy with our Reproductive endocrinologists office, and had the serial HcG monitoring and repeated ultrasounds till 11 weeks. At which time we chose to avoid further interventions. It was hard, to walk away from what became such a dependent part of our lives, relying on doctors, technology to somehow get us through to finding the strength to rely only on my body and the will of our Lord.
But we did it. We found an OB/MW practice about 45 minutes from our house, 15 minutes from my work that supported VBAC. No other practices in the area would support a VBAC, and we would pass two hospitals by on the way to the only hospital that sort-of supported VBAC (sort of because the hospital is a VBAC ban hospital due to all other hospitals banning them, and in addition to enforce this, the anesthesiologist group refuse to provide epidurals to VBAC moms). I liked the OB's, I liked the MW's. And we were able to decline most testing. I was also able to stay on the Metformin that might prevent me from developing gestational diabetes. We did look into a local birth center, but with my history of insulin resistance, PCOS, they wanted me to travel to a diabetes clinic multiple times a week in order for them to feel comfortable serving me. I felt that was more intervention than the MW/OB group. DH and I did dream of a homebirth, and sort of played it out in our mind as this wonderful peaceful event. And I did contact a couple of homebirth midwives in the area. It seemed that I was conflicted on what path to take. DH was the most comfortable with the hospital option, and I truly did not feel strongly one way or the other. I honestly could not make up my mind. In the end, we decided to stay with the hospital team, but we always kept the homebirth midwives phone numbers in hand, in case the OB group pulled the bait and switch at the end.
We hired a Doula who is a wonderful woman and has great strength. I looked forward to her support during my labor. DH was really nervous about birth, and had a lot of fears, a lot of unknowns. His answer was to have lots of care providers to rely on. Even if we were gong to go the homebirth route, he wanted midwives and doulas to be there.
Overall, I had a healthy, happy, low stress pregnancy. I started wearing maternity clothes early, felt like 10 weeks! And I was proud. Proud of my growing baby, proud of my body. I was at peace with my body, this baby. I was able to enjoy every moment. Every movement. And I did pass the diabetes testing! So I was able to gestate in peace, enjoying this miracle within me. I gained only about 17 pounds!
I was seeing a Chiropractor trained in Webster technique, primarily because from about 12 weeks on I was suffering from extreme SPD, and had a hard time functioning. But after just a few adjustments, I was in much less pain! Each visit he would tell me how well my pelvis was aligned and how I would have a quick and easy birth. And my MW appointments concluded that the baby was indeed head down and doing great.
I started having painful braxton hicks contractions at about 35 weeks on and off. Nothing serious but enough to work through. I also had purchased the Hypnobabies class material and was trying to get through the 6 CD's of material. I was able to get through about half way, and found it difficult to make time to practice every night.
At 37.5 weeks, on December 22nd I found myself in L&D up at WDH. The night before I was having the normal set of sporadic contrations, and feeling a bit off. DH and I had gone into our primary care physician due to a lingering chest cold that would not go away. He gave us both amoxicillin. After a hearty dinner at our favorite Chineese restaurant, I took my first pill, and then started thowing up everything at 9:00pm. This set me into an irregular contraction pattern as well. I could not keep anything down all night long. In the am, I was still vomiting the water I sipped. So we went to L&D. I ended up hooked to the monitors for hours, and four bags of IV fluids, one with dextrose later, I was sent home with a prescription for anti nausea medication. The MW had checked my cervix and I was still long, firm, and no dilation. The fetal heart monitor and the goop they used completely irritated my skin and left a swollen red rash in a perfect circle for days.
I continued to have sporadic painful contractions on and off, for days. Then on December 28th, I definitely had an irregular set of contractions but after taking a bennadril and going to bed, they all went away. On the 29th I had a routine OB/MW appointment, but instead of seeing the midwives, I was scheduled to see an OB. The appointment was a disaster. The OB was concerned because the baby was measuring 41 weeks, and I was only 38.5 weeks. She gave me the scare tactics about high amniotic fluid levels and the dangers, etc. My blood pressure was oddly elevated when the nurse took it, so the OB wanted bloodwork, even though my urine screen was fine. She ended up retaking my BP and it was normal, so decided to not do the bloodwork. She then told us she wanted an ultrasound. DH and I protested. Stating we did not want one, that we did not want to know how big the baby was. She persisted and told us they would not tell us! I countered but you would know, and then use it against me later, while in labor! In the end we consented to the ultrasound, but my sweet DD had her head engaged in my pelvis, so they could not get an accurate head diameter! WOO HOO! The ultrasound did tell us she was engaged and in the most perfect labor position, LOA, left occipital anterior, or facing my spine! Another good thing! So we did not have a vaginal exam, primarily because they did not offer, and I would not have accepted anyways. Too much risk of accidentally rupturing my membranes, and honestly the information is useless. I remember the anxiety with Madeline where each visit the OB's would consult each other to decide how much I was dilated after an exam. And it meant nothing! So in the end they scheduled me for my next appointment, a week later.
So I went back to work after the appointment and worked a bit late, to about 5:15. I remember my boss was not in, but his boss was in, and he had joked to me to “go home” when he left. I must say all of my co-workers were convinced I would drop the kid right there at work any moment, but I was not due till January 8th! On the way home, I had sporadic painful contractions, and found it difficult to stand still waiting at Walgreens for my prescription refill. I wrote it off as being dehydrated and tired. I made it home around 6:30, and DH had picked up a pizza with Madeline. I ate a slice and really still felt crappy, with contractions happening every so often. Soon I threw up my pizza and started to get nervous, that I was still sick and now would end up dehydrated again! We called our Doula and told her what was going on. I really felt this was yet again more prodomal labor like the night before. We decided to take some bennadryl and try to get some rest. DH and I looked up the signs of active labor again, and the Doula had reminded us about how to know what is active labor. So far I met none of those guidelines. So we decided it was just prodomal labor. She had recommended a warm bath, but the thought of getting in and out of the tub just made me tired. I puttered around and dealt with contractions and got mad that I could not sleep at all! DH started timing my contractions here and there. They were all over the place. Some were 8 minutes apart for 30 seconds, others were 10 minutes apart for 20 seconds. Nothing was coordinated.
I had not lost my mucus plug and had no mucous show or bloody show at all. I just felt pissed that the contractions were not letting up! I completely believed that I was way too early, that I had time. DH honestly thought I would not go into labor till 41 weeks! But now he felt that I might actually within the next day or two. So did I.
I had lots of anxiety, my house was in a post Christmas disaster! The place was a mess! Boxes, toys, laundry, you name it, it was all over the place! Recycling up to my ass, junk mail coating most flat surfaces. Bathrooms a disaster scene! You could not walk through the den at all. I COULD NOT be in labor right now! NO way did I want anyone coming to my house! Can you say denial?
By 10:30 or so, I was feeling really crappy and getting chills. I decided to call my Mom. We talked on the phone and she had to remind me to breathe through some contractions. I kept on getting chills. Still DH timed my contractions and they were still about 8 minutes apart, and only lasting for maybe 30 seconds. They started down low and worked upwards, much different than the top down dehydration contractions I was having, but not the back to front contractions from the textbook description of active labor. Still no mucous plug.. So we stayed home.
In hindsight, we probably should have called the MW and the Doula at this point, but we were both convinced this was not active labor, but early labor. The kind that lasts you know hours. Everyone told me that since I did not labor with Madeline, that this would be like a first time labor. And people asked about my mother's and sisters labors, because mine would most likely be similar. My mother labored for days with me, and a long time with my sister. My sister had a 36 hour labor after her water broke. So we honestly thought it would be hours, days even.
We did pack a simple bag, not everything, but put in some bath essentials, some clean clothes, etc and sat it in the corner. I found myself mad and angry because I was so tired. All I wanted to do was sleep. So the bag went neglected in the corner. Nothing set up for DD1, no baby clothes, no camera. I had DH bring the birth ball upstairs and found myself sitting on that next to my bed, and having to get up to go pee all the time. Rob would sit there on the bed and time my contractions. I remember getting a bit pissed because it seems that he was so focused on his watch!
At some point I went to the bathroom and had pink tinge in some mucous after wiping. This sort of made me feel that nope, no sleep tonight damn it! That I was in early labor! That within the next 24 hours or so we will have our baby girl with us. Little did we know... And for some reason, I still did not call the doula or the hospital. I really think not wanting to go in too early, not wanting to be tied down to those monitors played a role in my subconscious unable to accept going to the hospital. And quite honestly, the contractions were no worse than the pains I had when I miscarried at 11 weeks in 2004. So my mind was telling me, no, this is not labor, not yet.
The last time point I remember was 1:30 in the morning, sitting on the birth ball, pissed because why was the hypnobabies not working! Mad at myself because I should have practiced more! Mad because I kept on falling asleep during the CD's! DH was sitting on the bed in front of me, and I would squeeze his hand during the contractions. I remember saying to myself “WHY WON'T MY LIGHTSWITCH WORK!”
And then the next thing I remember is this urge to have a bowel movement! I sat right up off the ball and told DH I had to go to the bathroom. I made it into the bathroom and sat down. As I did there was this loud pop and a small gush of fluid exploded out of me! DH exclaimed “What the hell was that!” I looked down into the bowl which now contained redish mucous and some yellow fluid all around the toilet. I could not believe it. I told him my water broke!
At which point he went into emergency mode! We still felt there was time, so we started making plans to get dressed and get in the car. DH called the Doula and told her my water broke and we were going to the hospital. Then he called the MW's. As he talked to the MW's I found myself having to push! This was just two-three minutes after my water broke. I could not stand up, the pressure was surreal. I found myself grunting, I could not help it. I could not stop it. There was so much pressure! DH was on the phone with the MW stating he was bringing me in. She exclaimed “NO! By the sounds I hear your wife making, you do not have time to drive here! Call 911!” DH yelled at her! “NO I am bringing her to YOU!”. Finally he gives in and calls 911 on one phone and uses our cell pone to call a neighbor to come over to take care of Madeline who is somehow still asleep in her room!
I find myself unable to communicate, I am grunting, my body wants to push, I feel so much pressure. I am in complete disbelief that this is happening. I am unable to think straight. I find myself thinking only of the incredible pressure. DH is on the phone with 911. He is panicking. They are yelling for me to get off the toilet. I can hardly move. My body does not want to move. I can take three or four steps before I am overcome with the urge to squat and push. Each time the urge comes, I find myself grunting, yelling out. I make it into the hallway as I meet my Madeline at her bedroom door. I calmly tell her “Maddie, you have to bring Freddie, (our new kitten) into your room and keep him safe, the firemen are coming and you need to keep him in your room.” She states OK and takes off to find her kitten. I do not know how I stayed calm enough to talk to her. I did not want to panic her, I was already yelling and vocalizing.
DH is yelling at the 911 operator, they are asking stupid questions, like if I am breathing. He is getting nervous. The 911 operator tells him the ambulance is on the way. Instructs him to get towels, blankets, a shoe string. I am making it down the stars no way do I want a troop of firemen in my bedroom! I manage to get into my living room and throw a towel on the floor, we had no supplies, so no shower curtain or anything to put down. DH is telling me to lie on my back. I am still having contractions and pushing. I yell at him NO. There was no way I could lie on my back. My pelvis hurt so much! He is screaming where is the ambulance! I get on my hands and knees screaming and grunting as my body pushes on its own. I remember my neighbor coming in the front door and just looking at me, as I kneel there in the family room, screaming. She asks if she should get Brian. We have no clue who Brian is! Turns out he is a neighbor who is a paramedic. Rob tells her no, just go watch Maddie, the ambulance is on it's way.
I felt the head go down with a push but then come back up. For a moment I panic about rebound being the sign of a rupture and I start to get scared. I remember yelling out 'Oh god NO!” and pushing with all my might during the next contraction, and I felt her drop down and stay down.
The 911 operator tells him to check me, I am still screaming. I remember him being told to push on my Perenium, and he asking “what the hell is that! Where is that!” He fumbles around down low with his hands. I scream at him as another contraction causes me to bear down, I can feel the head right there, the pressure, the burning, and he is pushing on me! It feels like he is trying to push her back in. I yell for him to stop touching me! He starts to panic even more. “I see the head! Oh my god! I see the head! Where the Hell is the Ambulance!” I am so wrapped up in grunting, screaming and pushing.
He yells, “I can see eyes! Oh my god! She is out to her nose!” I reach down and touch her head with my hand, so warm, wet. As the front door explodes open and in walks two EMT's from my fire department, Mike and Brenda. I remember Mike putting his hand on my back and telling me I was doing great. I was screaming. I could hear they were nervous. I could feel her head halfway out. I was so completely out of control. My body was pushing. I was so tired. At this point I could hear the EMT's getting nervous, telling me to keep pushing. I was getting tired. I started to get afraid of her getting stuck. I knew she was at least 9 lbs. So as the urge to push overcame me one more time, I pulled my right knee up off the ground and lunged forward. The baby slid right out and into Brenda's hands. Sheer exhaustion took over, I dropped my face into a pillow and cried. I was listening for the baby, but there was no noise.
I hear Rob stating “she is so blue! She is not breathing! How come she is not breathing!”. At this point the EMT's are trying to clear her airway with their fingers, the cord is still attached to me, still pulsing. I hear them talking to eachother, I can hear the fear in their voices. Then Donna our Paramedic comes in with the ambulance supplies, and starts directing for suction, oxygen, and then I hear the baby scream and cry. I hear DH cry out and then run to our bathroom. I hear him break down and sob. I am so tired. I try to look around behind me where they are trying to warm her up. But do not see much. I am just in shock. It has been 20 minutes since my water broke. Eleanor Noelle was born at home, at 3:36 am December 30th 2009.
The fire department brings in a stretcher and get me onto the stretcher with tons of blankets. Donna has the baby, rubbing her down, giving her blow by O2. We all head out in the fridgid snow to the ambulance. DH went upstars to gather up some stuff to go to the hospital. We did not have a baby bag packed, no clothes or anything.
They drive us to Exeter hospital the closest one. On the way Donna sits next to me, holding Eleanor talking to her, trying to get her to warm up. They try getting her on my chest, but I am cold and she is cold I am shaking. Donna starts putting hot packs around Nora in the towels. They take vital signs on me, do a quick rhythm strip. I am so weak, yet elated. I feel like I am high. I am thanking everyone for being there, for helping me.
The hospital meets us with a team of nurses and pediatric nurses as they rush us up to L&D. I am transferred to the hospital bed as Eleanor is handed off and put under the warming lights as the hospital staff takes over. One of the firemen congratulate me, and then jokes “So, you will be back riding the ambulance in a week or to right?!” I have to laugh! As it is determined we are both stable and doing good DH gets a round of hugs from the EMT's and congratulations.
All the nurses are great. Everyone is in shock and cannot believe that I delivered at home. When they find out I am a VBAC there is amazement in their voices. Eleanor is put through the round of normal hospital birth routines, but I decide to not fight it off. She is warm, healthy and alert. They wheel in a scale and weigh her. The nurse cannot believe it. 9Lbs 9oz. They are amazed I had such a big baby, so fast at home without any medication! I knew she was going to be big, but did not expect 9.9!
Our Doula arrives. She had traveled all the way to our intended hospital, just to find out we were not there, and the ambulance had brought us to the closest hospital. She has her camera, since we did not and took pictures.
The on call OB walks in about an hour after we arrived. She is hard to read. She tells me how dangerous it was for us to do what we did. A VBAC at home. I ignore her. She gets right down to business since my placenta had not delivered, and I was not having any noticeable contractions. They hang a bag of pit and break down the bed. Even with the pit, I still do not remember having any painful contractions. I was in a considerable amount of discomfort in my nether regions, and her poking around was really hurting. She started pulling on the cord, and telling me to push, even though there was no urge to push, no contractions. She started asking me about my medical history, two prior D&C's for miscarriages, and a cesarean. I knew what she was thinking. She asked if I had any ultrasounds besides the 20 week anatomy scan. No. I knew she was thinking placenta acretia. But one or two pushes with her pushing on my belly and yanking on the cord, and I felt the placenta right at my perenium, which burned like hell. She then went about the repair work.
I had two minor lacerations on both sides going up towards my urethra, and a small second degree midline tear at the entrance internally, did not even tear the skin outside. The injections of lidocane were unbearable, especially the ones up front. Overall the repair took about 10 minutes tops and was not bad at all. I had asked if I tore so bad because I was unassisted, and her frank response was “You had a 9lb 9oz baby, chances are if you were in the hospital it would have been worse.” Which made me believe she was a liberal use of episiotomy type OB. She also commented that the bleeding was not that bad, and how she would not subject me to a scar check exam.
So after my nether bits were put back to some semblance of order, I finally got to hold Eleanor and try to nurse her. It has been at least an hour and a half, so not exactly my “immediate to breast” plan I wanted, but hell, I was still riding the “holy crap, I pushed a big baby out of my vagina” high. She did not want to latch, but was definitely rooting around and making the motions. We tried various positions and eventually got a latch, but for a short period of time.
After I was all cozy in bed, with some motrin, and about a gallon of orange juice to drink, our Doula drove DH home to get more supplies, and our DD. I had the chance to just lie there with Nora, hold her to my breast and let her root around. She did latch and nursed for 15 minutes. The experience brought tears to my eyes. I was breastfeeding! We were doing it!
Soon DH came back with Madeline, and she was so excited to see baby sister. She was so happy, she just climbed up onto the bed and sat with us.
It was about two hours or so after the birth when I told the nurses I had to get up to go to the bathroom. The nurses helped me sit on the side of the bed, and when I went to step down, my left leg buckled out from underneath me. I could not walk. It felt completely numb from my thigh down. My foot dragging. The nurse felt it was probably pelvic separation, but did not think anything of it. I managed to get to the bathroom and had not a problem going to the bathroom. But boy did those tears burn!
I spent a lot of time in bed with Nora, nursing and drinking tons of orange juice and water. The pediatrician came in and told me that Nora was great. She had some broken blood vessels in her eyes, but that was from the fast delivery. She did not even have any moulding. I think her head looked more symmetrical than my no-labor cesarean baby! The pediatrician then told us that because she was born in a “dirty” environment they were going to draw blood cultures from her and we would have to stay in the hospital for 48 hours to get the results back before they would release her. I thought about fighting it, but decided to say ok, as long as the baby never left my room, they would have to draw the blood in the room so DH could hold her and comfort her.
The hospital had a group meeting for about four of us new families to go over the baby instructions and the mommy instructions. The pediatrician was great, but the nurse was a bit of a snippy one. She had stated that we all should be kegeling right at the moment and keep on doing it. I think she got a nasty look from every new mom in the room! The best part was that all the babies in the room were all so small compared to Nora, the parents just kept looking at her! On the walk back to my room mrs snotty nurse commented on how large she was and then stated “well you are walking around great for a cesearean!” I just laughed and told her “Nope, had her at home!”. She just gaped at me... Well Keegel that!
In the end, she did not have any fever or infections, the blood cultures were fine, and we went home in 48 hours. I wanted to be out of there sooner, but it all worked out.
Hard to find what is the end... Probably could go on forever.
