Thursday, March 15, 2018

My Induction Birth Story!

It's been three weeks since Benson's birth. 

T H R E E weeks. 

How is that even possible? I don't know where the time has gone. 

Well, I do know... A lot of diaper changes, breastfeeding/pumping, and laundry. (btw why do newborns go through so much clothing? Our record is four changes in one day. FOUR.) Tonight I have a few spare minutes to myself, so I thought it would be a good time to share our Birth Story... before a little person starts crying, lets dive in. 

I had my 39 week prenatal appointment on February 19th, 2018 at four pm. It was your basic baby check up... they weighed me, checked my blood pressure, took a urine sample and then I undressed so the doctor could come in and do her thing. After what felt like ages, my doctor came in and checked me. I was still sitting at 80% effaced and had made progress... 3cm dilated! I was excited that my body was headed in the right direction, but after a long discussion we decided we were going to move forward with a 39 week induction. (Our reasoning and decision making process could be an entire post on its own, so I wont get into that here.) So I signed the paperwork as she called the hospital to let them know that I would be coming in at 7am the next morning to get things started. I was excited, nervous, and so so so ready to meet our baby... but I was also struck by how sad I felt. It was officially the last night I would be pregnant, ever. I tried to soak in every kick and movement as much as I could while I tied up loose ends around the house and finished packing our hospital bags. 

I decided this time I was going to be rested and ready to go for this delivery. After all, I knew when he was coming, so I had an advantage this time.However life, as it often does, had other plans. Brandon woke me up at 11pm (an hour after I went to sleep) yelling for help because our toddler was throwing up. Cool. right? Impeccable timing. As anyone that has dealt with a sick toddler already knows, I got no sleep. I'm talking like two hours, and that wasn't straight through. When my alarm went off at five I was ready to cry, I was so tired and overwhelmed. Nevertheless, I got to the hospital with time to share and was registered quickly, put in my room and met with my RN. Right as I went to the bathroom to change into a gown, I lost my mucus plug! I wasn't surprised as I had been having contractions on  and off since the doctor checked me the day before, but it still grossed me out a little bit! 


Funnily enough, we were in the same room I had Elizabeth. The familiarity was comforting as they started my IV and hooked me up to the monitors. I was already contracting, so we decided to wait a while to start pitocin, hoping they would pick up. Unfortunately the monitors kept losing his heart rate, and contractions weren't consistently picked up either. After discussing it with the on call doctor, we decided to break my water so she could put a monitor directly on his head so things would be more accurate and consistent, and then we would start the pitocin. I was a little worried about having my water broken, but it was very quick and didn't hurt. The relief I felt after they did it was UNBELIEVABLE.

Obviously I knew once my water broke the contractions would become more intense, but I was enjoying the sweet relief while I could. At this point it was around ten am, and I was measuring at five cm. I was still up walking, rocking, and doing whatever I could to be get through each contraction. I had Brandon applying counter pressure to my back and hips, which helped SO much. They were bringing me water, ice, and other "clear" liquids and I ate ice chips and chatted with Brandon and my Mother In Law to pass the time. I would get up and walk around to try to help things along...Brandon had to follow me with a towel because I was still leaking EVERYWHERE hours later. 

Around four pm I needed to pee, and unfortunately when I got up the monitor came off his head. I called for my nurse after I was back in bed. She and another nurse came in and had to put it back on his head...and lets just say she was not as skilled as the doctor. Half way through the process the aid said "Wow, you must have a high tolerance for pain..."
Yall. I am not a violent individual... but I wanted so badly to kick her square in the face. I have never been in so much pain in my life, and my daughter was a dystocia delivery. I could barely move after that I was so uncomfortable, on top of the fact that my pitocin was now at an 11. After two hours of laying in bed feeling like I was going to be sick with every contraction, I called my nurse and asked for an epidural. It's a process, and they had a c-section scheduled, so it took a while for the anesthesiologist to get to me. She checked me right before he came in the room and said I was at a seven...and that I was probably in transition.

I sat up and made way to the edge of the bed to make room for the doctor and all his supplies and realized it felt like I was sitting on the baby's head. I literally couldn't stand to sit down, it was so intense. I waiting in a almost squatting position over the bed until they were ready to get started, and tried to be as still as possible through the procedure. Once he was finished I got back into a comfortable position in bed and realized I could still feel my feet, and could (barely) lift my legs off the bed. I couldn't feel my contractions anymore though, so the nurse didn't seem concerned. She had me lay down in an attempt to get some rest. Almost immediately I felt discomfort in my chest, so I called her back in and she sat me up and called the doctor. I ate some ice chips and by the time she made it to my room I felt fine! They think my epidural leaked and caused the pain... I'm just glad it wasn't anything more serious.

At 9:40pm I felt an odd sensation in my bottom that continued to build. When my nurse came in at ten to check me I told her something had changed, and asked to be checked. She did her thing and said "Let me set up and call the doctor, it's time to push!" I was shocked. My labor with my daughter was thirty seven hours long, so I was expecting to have a long labor this time as well. She asked me how long I pushed with my daughter, and when I told her three hours due to dystocia she calmly said she wanted to do a practice push, just to try to see if he was in the same situation. She held my leg and Brandon held the other as I grabbed the bars and pushed to the count of ten three times. Thankfully he came right down and they could see his little head! I asked if he had hair, and she went to get a mirror so I could see what was happening. I remember looking up at Brandon and seeing him look a little teary. I didn't understand why at the time, but looking back I imagine he must have felt some anxiety (and excitement) as well.

I pushed a few more times and she made me stop halfway through my last contraction to wait for the doctor. Brandon asked "Oh, you're not trying to deliver a baby tonight?!" she laughed and joked that it was above her pay grade. My doctor came in ready to go, and asked where I got my yellow hospital socks because she wanted a pair... and believe it or not, we spent my down time between pushing talking about socks.

Yeah. Socks.

Two contractions later, after pushing for just a few minutes, she asked me if I wanted my baby on my chest. Of course I said yes, pushed again, and Benson Reid was born at 10:39 pm. I remember hearing the nurse say "Well that didn't take three hours!" as I opened my eyes and saw the doctor holding him in the air to take off the monitor from his head. My first thought was how little he seemed... especially in comparison to Elizabeth. She put him on my chest and chatted with Brandon while they waited for the cord to stop pulsing. I honestly couldn't tell you what they were saying, I was so absorbed and wrapped up in the new little baby on my chest. The doctor asked Brandon if he wanted to cut the cord and he declined...but after some encouragement from myself and the doctor he took the scissors and did it! He was unable to do that with the other kids, so I think that experience made this birth a little extra special and made him feel involved in the process. For whatever reason I was (and still am) so proud I could have burst.




After some snuggles they took Benson to weigh him and check his vitals. He weighed 7 pounds, 13 ounces and was 20 inches long! SEVEN pounds! After having a nine pound baby, that seemed so small to me. After I received stitches from a first degree tear, and my epidural was taken out, they had me up and walking to the bathroom to try to pee. Things went well and I was wheeled to my postpartum room by midnight.

We were finally discharged on February 22, and I couldn't wait to get home and introduce Elizabeth to her baby brother. She wasn't super impressed, but I think I will save that story for another post. I hope you all enjoyed reading our birth story... I definitely have enjoyed sharing it. I tried to keep it brief but include all the major events! I will post Benson's one month update soon, so keep your eyes peeled!

Bless.

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Maira Gall