My Birth Stories
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I got induced with first born at 41 weeks and was in the hospital on Pitocin for 1 ½ days before I delivered. During my stay in the hospital, I sat majority of the time just waiting for labor to progress as I was only 2cm dilated when I arrived. At one point, a nurse came in and told me that if I walked the halls, it may help me dilate faster. I did that for a couple of hours, and nothing had changed in progress. Within that first day, I felt discouraged that I was not dilating fast enough. I eventually agreed to have my water sac punctured, which had to have happened again a few hours later, because my doctor didn’t fully puncture it the first time as she thought she had. A scalp electrode (a spiral wire that is placed on the fetus’ scalp by hooking it underneath the top layer of skin) was suggested to monitor my baby's heart rate more precisely, which I denied as I felt it was not necessary since the monitor did not show any complications with my baby’s heart rate. I was offered many other interventions, which I denied, but felt as if they wanted to experiment on me or was getting tired of waiting for when I would have my baby. Eventually, I gave in and allowed my doctor to use an intrauterine pressure catheter to determine how strong my contractions really were. I had my cervix checked more than a handful of times and finally got an epidural towards the end of labor when I couldn’t handle the contractions any longer. The topic about pushing had not been discussed prior to this and although I was on epidural, I was still able to feel the contractions and the urge to push. When I wanted to push, I was told not to and was directed when to push. Every time I pushed, I felt my doctor using her fingers to pull down my vagina to help open it up for my baby to come through. It was VERY uncomfortable. (I did not know at the time, but I now know that my doctor shouldn’t have done that.) After 40 plus minutes of pushing, I finally delivered my precious baby boy.
With the unpreparedness of my first labor and delivery, I told myself the second one was going to be better because I knew what to expect already. As I was admitted into the hospital, I was about 4-5 cm. After a few hours, I was told that my baby’s heart rate kept decreasing as each contraction came. The nurses had me lay on my sides to see if that’ll help, which it did not. After a while it became worrisome. The OB came in and told me to try pushing, I wasn't sure why, but after I did, she automatically said we had to go into the operating room(OR) right away. I knew at that moment I had no other choice. I recall being so scared and crying that this wasn't what I wanted. I can see my husband was also scared too and that made me more anxious. My doctor assured me that everything would be ok, that everything would seem fast as they got me ready and transferred to the OR, but that was normal and to not be frightened. All I could think about was how disappointing this was. Growing up I was always under the impression that cesarean was frowned upon because you didn't really "birth" your baby and the emotional and physical connection won’t be there. I've seen many movies where emergency cesareans led to the death of moms and/or baby(s) and that scared me even more. I was afraid that something terribly wrong was going to happen. My mother and sister were on their way to the hospital, and I questioned if we would be able to wait until they arrived, as I felt like I needed more support at the time. The OB told me we couldn't wait any longer, but there were plenty of staff there to help me feel comfortable during the process. The procedure went well, and they made sure to remind me continuously how good I was doing and how everything was going well. I felt all the tension go away the minute I heard my baby cry. Although this birth was not what I expected, I realized it was not as scary after all. I just needed reassurance and more education on cesarean births.
My next pregnancy was the hardest emotionally and physically. I was so excited to be pregnant again as it's been a few years. Somewhere deep within me, I had a lingering feeling that something may have been wrong. I never spoke of that ill feeling because I did not want to jinx it, so I went on with my days and enjoyed my baby growing. I had a mother’s tuition that I should wait to get the first ultrasound done and convinced myself that it was ok since it was my third pregnancy. I was over 3 months along with this pregnancy before I went in for the first ultrasound. Later that day I received a phone call from my doctor stating that unfortunately my baby has anencephaly, (a birth defect where the baby is born without parts of the brain and skull) and there was nothing they could do to help my baby, but that they would support me through this process. It was not until later that night that I felt all sorts of emotions all at once: anger, frustration, depressed, defeated, like the universe was so unfair, and that I had failed to be a mother and to provide for my child. Although I had the option to carry on full term with my baby, I had made the decision to deliver my baby at about 5 months as it would be too hard on me emotionally if I went longer. The last 2 months were so cherished, and as I held my angel baby boy in my palms, I knew he loved me just as much.
About 8 months after I had my angel baby, I finally conceived again. As happy as I was, I was also scared of all the imaginable things that could go wrong. So, with this pregnancy I did everything that I could to have a safe and desirable pregnancy. I was definitely more prepared but also knew that each labor was different and that there was still so much I did not know. Along with learning to cope with grief, I’ve started to meditate and learned that I was in more control of my body and mind than I thought. I had my birth planned out and planned for the unexpected. I knew I wanted as little time as possible at the hospital so I stayed at home until I knew I couldn’t any longer. Active labor kicked in at about 4 in the morning. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so my best friend was a birth ball and the toilet. After 2 hours, I went to the hospital and was 8cm dilated with a +2 station. I receive a small dose of fentanyl right before I started pushing, which I consented to but did not really know at the time what was asked as I was not focused on anything but my contractions. I remember saying yes to “this will help you feel better” per the nurse. I had a spontaneous rupture of my water sac and soon after, baby girl arrived. Labor, delivery, and recovery was the best one by far compared to the others. I felt even better after giving birth and still had so much energy left. I truly believe that being prepared and knowing how to calm my body and mind during active labor was what helped the most. I am thankful that I learned how to support myself this time around and cannot wait to continue learning more.
Baby #5 Birth Story To Be Told...
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