My Birthing Story

Any day now
As I neared my due date, the baby was in position. However, on a doctor’s visit she informed me that the baby was not only quite big, but was now breached. Since I was just a few days away from my due date, she asked me to consider a scheduled c-section. Bill and I were disappointed and quite concerned about having major surgery. My ob-gyn then sent me to Lutheran Hospital to see another doctor that specialized in moving the baby into position. Now, I was scared about how painful that was going to be. The doctor there said she needed to do an ultrasound to see exactly where the baby was and to see if there was enough room for all the maneuvering. Just as she was about to do the ultrasound, the machine broke down, and so she went off to get another one. Let’s just say, things changed during that transition. So now with a another machine in good working order, she sees that the baby is no longer in a breach position, but head down facing back. Perfect! : ) What a relief! She also said that the baby was in fact a big baby boy, but that he had plenty of room for moving around. Great. : / I was advised to keep using the maternity belt to “secure him in place”. Okay. Two days later, I had some spotting (I had read about this), so we went to Lutheran hospital with our bags packed and all. We were told that I the baby was fine; I was not in labor, I had not dilated, it was no need for concern, and that I should go home. Okay. The next day, my water broke at 2:30 a.m. so off we went to the hospital, again with our bags, and this time they did tell us that I was in labor. Okay! This is it! Get me some ice chips and let’s get started.
The Delivery
To make a long story short, and to spare you of all the details of this one very long blog entry, I ended up having a Cesarean section. William John (a.k.a. Liam) was born on January 17, 2007 at 7:12 a.m. weighing 8 lbs-6 oz and was 21 ½ inches long. You may now scroll down to the next title if you wish.

What follows next is for all those enquiring minds only :) who really wanted to know the specifics.

We came prepared with soothing music and photos. I mostly held onto a really funny photo of Bill that I took on our honeymoon. I was given Oxytocin to get things going. The contractions became more regular and quite strong, but weren’t long enough. In all honesty, I can say that I could tolerate the pain really well. I just had a problem with the examinations. To my relief, my ob-gyn ordered that I not be examined unless she requested it on account that since my water broke, she wanted to avoid the risk infection. Thank you!

An acupuncturist and her assistant came in at one point during that day to suggest that I try it for the next few contractions, to see if it would “alleviate the pain and hopefully speed things along.” I can’t say that it helped very much, only minimally. I thought the funny photo of Bill was a lot more helpful. Again, I could tolerate the pain just fine; I just really wanted to dilate faster and that was precisely the problem.

After about 20 hours of labor I only dilated all of two centimeters, so the doctors then suggested that I get the Epidural so that “my muscles would relax” and I would dilate.

Throughout all of this, I must say that Bill was great. He even became my nurse when one could not be found to help me.

All along I made a concerted effort in being very friendly to all the staff. I just wanted to make sure that I would be well taken care of; the same went with the anesthesiologist (Anabelle?). First of all, she asked Bill to step out of the room. It must be said that the moment she came into my room, it was apparent by her demeanor that she was upset. Maybe she was having a bad day? As she was “prepping” me for the epidural, she whispered to the nurse and then she said quite audibly that she hated this hospital. Not good, I thought. The nurse immediately shushed her as a reminder that I could be listening. No sooner than the anesthesiologist had finally finished expressing her dislike of the hospital, when I heard her say, “Damn”. I immediately asked what was wrong, and she said that there was just a little bit of blood in the catheter, but that it was normal and then she left. I was very uneasy especially since I was alone with the nurse and the anesthesiologist. When Bill came back into the room, I told him what had happened, but we decided not to be too alarmed by this and just be positive and think happy thoughts at the prospect of holding our baby very soon. Since the anesthesiologist numbed the area for the needle, I didn’t feel much of the next two or three contractions. Soon after, I began feeling them a lot stronger. They were in fact stronger, but still not long enough. I also began feeling nauseous and very uncomfortable. I kept explaining that it didn’t feel right; I didn’t feel well at all and that I could also feel each contraction exactly as I had felt them before the epidural. It was as if there had been no epidural at all and I reported this to the nursing staff. Another anesthesiologist came in and quickly dismissed my feelings saying that all this was called labor and that I was supposed to feel some pain. She also said that all she could do was put a “topper” which meant more of the same medication. She must have thought that I was just chicken and that I didn’t want to feel any pain or discomfort at all, which wasn’t true at all. I just wanted to dilate once and for all. Shortly after that “topper” I kept feeling even more nausea.

My ob-gyn came in to see me at around 9 p.m., and I told her crying that I tried to do everything by the book and that I felt I had to accept the epidural, but that I wasn’t feeling well. I grabbed her hand which took her by surprise, and she smiled and said that it has been a long labor and that I was tired, but that I would have my baby soon. I kissed her hands and said, “God bless you, doctor”. This surprised even me. She smiled once again and then left.

In the hours that followed, I felt worse with a splitting headache and the same nausea, on top of a very nervous feeling. The baby was doing really well, though. His heart was strong and at the right level on the charts. I just had that scared, uneasy feeling that something was not right with me. I cried and cried and finally said to Bill, after 28 hours of labor that I could not take it anymore and that I wanted the c-section just to be on the safe side. The time now was 3 a.m. My ob-gyn was called and she said that she would be in at 6 a.m. She ordered one last examination and which point it was determined that I had only dilated three cm “stretched to four,” and that no more Oxytocin needed to be administered. My contractions after that became irregular. My baby boy was still strong and doing just fine.

The same anesthesiologist that came in to put the epidural in came back to administer the dosage necessary for the surgery. Bill was with me as they wheeled me out of the room. Now comes the scary part for me. The moment I was moved, everything began to spin around like crazy. I knew instantly that something was very wrong and I screamed and yelled out, “Stop! There’s something wrong! I can’t see, everything is spinning like crazy.” The doctors turned me over slightly to view the catheter and said that there was blood. All that medication had shot right up to my head! That's what was making me so sick! At that moment, they said, “We need to take care of this right now in the OR. We’ll take it out and do a spinal block (instead). Let’s move her, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Bill was then whisked away to get dressed for the OR. My speech then became slurred! I was terrified! I knew what I wanted to say, but I could not get the words out. I honestly thought I was having a stroke or something. On top of the spinning around, to make matters worse, it seemed like they banged the gurney into just about everything they could find in their path on their way to the OR. Then I was lifted to the operating table. Then the anesthesiologist came back and I was told I needed to sit upright for the spinal block. I asked her why this was happening to me and what went wrong, and she wouldn’t speak to me. I insisted on her telling me, and then finally she said that she had “missed the mark”, and that I would feel better and talk better after removing the epidural. The spinal block was put in and then she left. Missed the mark?! I could have been paralyzed! My doctor came in and I tried my best to explain to her what had happened, but my speech was still slurred. It didn’t occur to me that she might have been updated on what had happened. When Bill came in, I started crying. I had never been so scared in my life. My speech was getting a little bit better, enough for me to try to explain to Bill what had happened. He was also very scared for me. The room was still spinning and I just kept praying that the surgery would be okay and that the baby would be delivered okay. It was hard to breathe as I felt numb all the way up to my chest. It felt like my feet were higher than my chest. I was also very sleepy, but I was afraid to fall asleep on account that I might not wake up and perhaps die in my sleep and never get to see or touch my baby. The things that went through my mind at that moment!

My ob-gyn then asked Bill if he wanted to see the baby being born and then Bill quickly glanced up and saw him. My doctor said, “What a beautiful, big, baby boy! He’s beautiful! Beautiful!” William John (a.k.a. Liam) was born on January 17, 2007 at 7:17 a.m. weighing 8 lbs-6 oz and was 21 ½ inches long. He was then swaddled and brought over to me. I was still so scared that I had to muster all the energy I could to be excited about seeing my baby for the first time. I couldn’t even see him clearly because of all the dizziness and spinning around in my head. (As a matter of fact I didn’t get a chance to really take a good look at my baby until after two days when the dizziness went away.) I asked Bill if our baby was okay and he said yes. And then I told him not to take his eyes away from our baby for an instant. I no longer trusted anyone. So, Bill followed our baby all the way to the nursery. After he was all cleaned up and taken care of, my baby was finally brought up to the window where everyone gushed about how much he looked like the Gerber baby.

I was brought to the recovery room, but was still too scared to fall asleep. All I kept saying was that I just wanted my baby with me. The nurse there was concerned about the dizziness and would not release me to a room. I told the nurse there what had happened and she was shocked. Again I pleaded that I wanted to see my baby again. Bill and our baby then came in and only then was I finally able to give a sigh of relief. After about eight hours or so after the surgery, I was brought into a double room. I immediately called for the head nurse and explained exactly what had transpired during that morning. I requested to have my husband and baby with me as much as possible. She went away and came back with the head of the anesthesiology department and the anesthesiologist that had attended me, and they both had very upset looks on their faces. They were very quick to dismiss my feelings, they assured me that I did not have a stroke and unapologetically said that “missing the mark happens sometimes.” I told them that it was their job to make sure they do not miss the mark. That’s all they do all day. I then requested a private room at no charge to us. It was the least they could do. I made it clear that I wanted my husband and my baby with me at all times. Wouldn’t you know that the very next day I was wheeled into my own private room, and had the best possible care from the nursing staff?!

At long last, a mother
We had a few visitors, including my mother and brother, and a lot of beautiful flower arrangements, even one all the way from Australia from Bill’s parents. This new mommy, daddy, and baby along with a half dozen flower arrangements, left the hospital on a very cold Saturday afternoon. The temperature those past few days had dropped down to the teens. Everyone came around to tell us to cover the baby really well and shield him from the frigid, blustery winds that would hit us as we exited the hospital and jumped into our car. I bundled up my little bundle of joy in a white outfit bought by me, another white suit knitted by my mother, a cute blue coat, and finally a blue blanket with white trim knitted by me. Isn’t it just like a new mother to overdress her child?! I sat on the wheelchair with my baby snuggly in my arms and was wheeled in and out of corridor after corridor and then finally out of the hospital; all the while Bill catching every moment on camera. Sheer bliss, love, and peace filled my heart. And then, I finally exhaled; what a sigh of relief, at long last I’m a mother.

And baby makes three
We got home and quickly peeled off some of the layers of clothing, and just walked with him around the apartment as if introducing him to his new digs. We put him on our bed to look him over and marvel at the awesomeness of finally having him in our lives. We felt a deep sense of reverence at this little miracle before our eyes. Then, we drifted off to sleep only to be woken up just moments later by one hungry baby.