Before I begin, I think it is important to give a little background into our lives leading up to the birth of our third child, Anson. You see, on New Year’s Eve, 2007, my husband and I were laboring with our second child, a little girl we had named Ava. It was a planned home birth. After a difficult 16 hour labor, over 2 hours of pushing, and heart rate decelerations, the decision was made to transfer to the closest hospital. En route to the hospital, we completely lost Ava’s heart beat. She ended up being delivered in the ER, with forceps, no anesthetic, fundal pressure, and all of this with no pain medication whatsoever. After Ava’s birth my poor body took months to heal from the physical trauma, and even longer to heal from the emotional trauma. The kind Dr who delivered her explained to us that she had a lot going against her; she was in a posterior position, and had the umbilical cord around her neck 3x. He advised us not to beat ourselves up over what had happened, because it very well could have ended up the same way had we already been at the hospital. Needless to say our little girl ended up with a severe brain injury from the lack of oxygen, and today is dependent upon a ventilator to breathe, and depends on a home health nurse (and us) for everything.
To say our lives changed would be an understatement. I quietly hoped that some day I would have the chance to do it again. Ava was my daughter and I loved her dearly. But I yearned to end my child bearing years on a positive note. In October 2011, I would see that wish become reality. My husband and I had decided to quit using birth control and just ‘see what happened.’ I literally became pregnant with the month. I was so excited! I just KNEW God would bless me with a problem-free, amazing pregnancy also! …..Uhhh…WRONG! Let me just stop here for a moment and confide a little something. Because we had been through so much with Ava’s birth, I guess I sort of felt I deserved a perfect pregnancy. So when, at 6 weeks, morning sickness hit with a vengeance, I was bummed to say the least. I had morning (noon & night) sickness until the 7th month of pregnancy, severe shortness of breath, pregnancy induced sleep apnea, and my entire pelvis just ached constantly. I seriously felt like a big wimp. The OB I was going to just added to my pregnancy blahs by reciting the same tired line at every appointment, “Well Mrs. Ballenger, you ARE advanced maternal age. That’s not saying you’re old…” At 30 weeks gestation I was really starting to worry about delivery with this Dr. So after a long talk with a close friend who is also a midwife, I made the easy decision to switch to a practice in Westerville, Ohio. Over the course of the next 10 weeks I would meet with Becky, Emily, and Cassandra, all of whom were so friendly and warm. Never one time did they focus on the fact that I was ‘advanced maternal age,’ or make me feel like a high-risk mom.
So in week 38 I was given an ultrasound to check baby’s size and position. All appeared good! Becky said that baby was in a good position for delivery (which was important to know since my last baby was posterior and had gotten wedged in my birth canal) and looked to be around 8 pounds. She also asked if I had been having any contractions. I told her I had been having strong Braxton hicks for several weeks. When she asked if I wanted checked I agreed as I was curious if all this ‘warm up’ stuff had accomplished anything. When she checked me she said I was a “good 3 maybe 4cm and 80% effaced.” I still didn’t get too excited because I had been 4cm and 80% with my daughter and had to have my membranes swept to get labor going. When I told my husband and few close friends about my progress, they all said I would have a quick labor. I just didn’t feel that way, or maybe I didn’t want to get my hopes up, either way I didn’t allow myself to get too excited. It is probably worth mentioning at this time that I had battled anxiety over this birth the entire pregnancy. I tried not to allow what happened with my daughter affect my feelings toward this birth…but it did. No matter how hard I tried to block it out, it was always there, lingering in the background, I woke up the morning of my due date with no signs whatsoever of impending labor. I decided I would not worry about it. Women went over their due date all the time, and if I did…so what? So I got my 6yo ready and headed to Polaris for his 9:30am Occupational Therapy appointment. I think his therapist was slightly surprised to see me, and jokingly said as we were leaving, “Your water will break when you get home.” I laughed it off and told her I would see her at our next appointment. My son was focused on the ice cream cone I promised him if he was good, so we drove through McDonald’s for ice cream and continued on our way home, both of us enjoying a vanilla cone. As we turned into our driveway (time was approx. 11:00am) I grabbed my purse and jumped out of our truck. And I do mean this literally, I drive a 4x4 Suburban so there is a little distance from the truck to the ground. When my feet hit the ground I felt a slight twinge of pain in my pelvis, but didn’t pay it much mind since my pelvis had been hurting from the 6th month on. I walked into the house through the garage entrance, and as I walked up the steps into the kitchen I felt as if I had slime in my pants. Sorry for the TMI. All the sudden I just felt weird, I can’t even explain it. I wasn’t contracting at all, I was in no pain…I just felt odd. I headed towards the stairs and our bedroom. My husband was standing at the foot of the stairs talking to my daughter’s nurse as I walked by. He must have noticed the serious look on my face because he asked me if I was ok. I didn’t even answer, I just headed to our bedroom. As soon as I walked into our room, I stripped off my jeans and underwear and sat on the toilet. I heard a ‘PLOP’ and looked down to see the remainder of my mucous plug. At the same time I noticed I was leaking amniotic fluid. I also felt like I had to poo and, for a moment, sat there waiting for it to come. All of a sudden I stood up thinking that kind of ‘pressure’ could also be the baby’s head. As soon as I stood up I had a very mild, but definite contraction. I decided to call the OB office. When I called I was connected to Emily who asked me a few questions about my contractions and such. I knew she was also listening to how well I talked through my contractions. At that time I was barely in any pain at all, but I did tell her that I was feeling anxious and wanted to go ahead and come in. She said that was fine and would let the hospital know we were on our way. About that time my husband comes up just in time to witness me grab the bottom of my stomach with another contraction that took my breath away. I whispered to him, “We need to go.” He was evidently already on it and was getting the truck loaded. I went ahead and got dressed, walked down the stairs, and started putting my shoes on. Our home health nurse was trying to joke with me about something, I don’t think she realized how quickly things were picking up. I headed out to the Suburban where my husband had everything packed and ready and was hit by another contraction. “These are getting close,” I thought to myself. After it passed I climbed into the truck and pulled up a contraction timer app I had downloaded for my phone and started timing them. I also sent out a text message to close friends and family, letting them know things were starting. About 10 minutes into the trip I noticed my contractions were 3 minutes apart and lasting 45sec to 1 minute. I sent a message to my doula friend to let her know things were progressing quickly. She was already on her way.
So we pull up in the maternity turn around at St. Ann’s Hospital and I get out and start to walk inside. I am stopped in my tracks by another contraction. My husband by now has a concerned look on his face. When the contraction passes I send Kenny back to the truck to get my purse as I continue on into the maternity lobby. As I walk inside I see a man sitting at a desk and start to ask him where to go when I am hit by another contraction. This time the contraction makes me double over. This kind man could see I was in very active labor and goes to get a wheelchair. Bless him for doing that!! As I sit down in the wheelchair, my husband arrives back inside, and all of us take the elevator to L&D. We go up to the desk to check in, and by now I cannot find a comfortable position. Sitting hurts, standing hurts, everything hurts. I am doing my best to answer the receptionist’s questions, but am struggling big time. My sweet husband sees this and is doing most of it for me. As I am leaning over the counter I look down and notice beads of sweat on my hands. “Holy cow,” I thought, “when did I start sweating?!” After what seemed an eternity they finally took my back to triage. As I walked into my triage room I looked up to see Emily walk in. I was SO happy she was there. Evidently my doula had called her and informed her that my labor was progressing quickly. She checked me and announced I was 5-6cm and 100% effaced. I know this sounds strange to say, but I was not phased by that. During my daughter’s birth I was stuck at 5-6cm for almost 12 hours. All I could see what dealing with these contractions for several more hours and I felt myself start to get slightly panicked.
After Emily checked me I was escorted to a L&D room, and was pretty bummed to find there was no tub. I was, yet again, experiencing back labor, and had been really looking forward to the warm water. Oh well, I thought, the shower will feel nice too! Emily said they needed to get a 20 minute strip on the baby and then I was free to assume any laboring position I wanted. I remember looking at my nurse and telling her I would get into bed but I would not be laying on my back. So I basically got on my hands and knees and clung to the head of the bed and rode out the contractions this way while they hooked up an IV line and monitored the baby. Once they were satisfied that the baby looked good I was cleared to get in the shower. Oh man the water felt good! My sweet husband stood right beside me making sure the water was the right temperature and that it was hitting my back where the pain was. I stood this way through about 3-4 contractions, all of the sudden I could no longer get comfortable. I felt that panicky feeling coming back. I asked Kenny to go get Emily. When she came in I told her I did not mean to sound whiney but I really didn’t think I could handle 12 more hours of this pain and that I wanted to scrap my plans for a natural birth and get an epidural. You see I was still thinking that this was going to be long like my daughter’s labor. Emily smiled and said she didn’t think it would be 12 more hours and said she could check me to see how I was progressing. I came out of the shower announcing to my doula that I was getting an epidural and how sorry I was to disappoint everyone. (snicker snicker). I think every one in that room saw that I was in transition except for me. Emily checked me and found me to be 8cm and 100% effaced. She said it would take at least 45 minutes to get an epidural going, and that I would have to have 2 bags of fluid beforehand. So I go ahead and crawl back into bed and find a somewhat comfortable position and wait for the nurse to hook up my IV fluid. (snicker snicker again) I was in such denial, ha-ha. So as I’m riding through wave after wave, I notice the pressure in my bum building and building and next thing I know I start curling around my belly and pushing for all I’m worth. I pushed for awhile side lying. Then pushed through a few contractions squatting. It didn’t feel like anything was happening. Emily wanted to check my again, and when she did found there was a lip of cervix left. She said she would hold it back the next time I pushed. This worked, and I immediately felt the baby move down. Once I felt him start moving down the urge to push really became strong. I remember very vividly when his head went under my pubic bone, and I could not stop pushing. I remember Emily asking me if I was having a contraction, and I replied, “Nooooo” in this grunty, I-am-pushing-anyway voice. I felt his head slip out and I thought it was almost over. Wrong. Next thing I know I can feel Emily trying to free the baby’s shoulder and I knew right away what was happening. His shoulder was stuck. As a nurse myself, I knew he had to be born quickly or there was a big risk of oxygen deprivation. I remember at that moment I went into like an animal mode. I pushed for all I was worth. I was damned if anything was going to happen to this baby! It felt like an eternity, but in reality his shoulder was stuck for 90 seconds. Emily freed him and laid him on my belly. I remember I just laid back on the bed and kept rubbing my sweet baby and saying “Thank you” over and over again. I am not sure who I was thanking. Maybe God, maybe Emily, maybe both? I just know that there was such a sense of relief that no words can describe. My baby was here and he was breathing and healthy.
As Emily was working on me and making sure I was okay, everyone in the room turned their attention to newborn Anson. My doula was the first to say it, “He looks big, he’s no 7 pounder, more like 9.” We held off weighing him until we had taken plenty of time to bond and breastfeed. Finally after an hour, the nurse put him on the scale… 9lb, 1.6oz.
Phew! Had I really given birth naturally to a 9+ pound baby?! With no tears?! Oh and I forgot to mention Anson’s time of birth…2:42pm. Just over 3 hours from the first phone call I made to Emily. I suddenly felt like I had just conquered the world. So in the end God DID bless us with a beautiful, natural birth and a healthy baby. Thank you Emily, and the rest of the staff and Women’s Contemporary Health Care, for being a part of our miracle
1 comment:
What a beautiful ending girl, I knew that all of the prayers that had went out were going straight to the throne room of our Lord :)
Your Firend,
Rhonda
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