Let's start at the beginning...
I woke up one morning and realized that I was able to smell everything. Everything. So, I did what any young (ha!) woman of reproductive age does, I peed on about 3 sticks. All of which were positive. The next responsible step is calling the baby daddy. With H being a busy man I texted him, 'We need to talk, call when you can.' He called me later that day and said, 'You're pregnant, aren't you?' How does a human know that? Ugh. Yes, yes I am.
Well, shit. Now what? We decided to just take this pregnancy day by day. If we're going to miscarry, it'll be within the next 4 weeks. We'll deal with things as the come. (For those of you reading my blog for the first time please refer to this blog post to understand a little bit more about why starting a family was rough for us.)
We made it in for a 5 week ultrasound, there was a gestational sac, but nothing more. Things were looking grim. They had us come back in at 6 weeks for another ultrasound, there was a baby in there with a healthy heart rate! The 8 week mark came and went without any issues. Whew! Of course there were discretions over the due date and baby's measurements as I only had 4 cycles after Miles' birth that were all over the place. So different from an IVF baby, where you know the exact minute of conception.
We started seeing a perinatologist right away in our pregnancy, on top of the midwife, due to knowing that there could be something terribly wrong with this baby. We discussed doing invasive testing, I was dead set on having that testing done so we could terminate the pregnancy if baby was going to be born with a genetic condition that was incompatible with life. At 10 weeks we had an advanced noninvasive blood test done, telling us that baby didn't have a single trisomy! Yay! Once we made it to the second trimester we cleared a hurdle with trisomy 14, which we were told would happen, but like reassurance. Then came the halfway mark, the time when we had to decide if we were going to do an amnio to check out baby's health with a 100% for sure answer. Ultimately, I decided against any invasive testing as the chances of having a sick baby with our test results were so low. At this point the only issue that baby could have, that couldn't be caught with an ultrasound, is UPD 14 (where baby inherits both chromosome 14's from me) at <0.5%. A chance I was willing to take, especially at my advanced maternal age. Bleh.
Fast forward to week 24, or 28, or ....who remembers when. I was discussing with one of my midwives that I wanted to attempt a VBAC. She told me that 1. I was on track to gain 80# during the pregnancy. 2. That I was most likely not going to be a good candidate for a VBAC for several reasons. Needless to say it was yet another doctor appointment that I left feeling defeated. Week 32 I met with the extremely VBAC supportive OB at the clinic who cleared me for trying and encouraged it. You better believe I signed that dotted line!
I decided early on in this pregnancy that I wanted to explore my VBAC options, see if it was something I wanted to do. I started attending local ICAN (International Cesarian Awareness Network) meetings. Getting the support I needed to heal from Miles' traumatic birth and education on vaginal births after sections. Once I committed to trying for a VBAC I changed my diet, went to acupuncture, chiropractor, and yoga weekly. All of that on top of seeing the specialist, lots of ultrasounds, midwife appointments, and non-stress tests. Poor Miles had no life with other little people those last few months.
Fast forward to December 12th, 2017.
Corben’s entrance (the extremely long, you can tell I used to blog about life version):
I had an acupuncture appointment at 10am Tuesday morning, the family who was going to watch M texted saying everyone in their house was vomiting. Thankfully, my mother was running late for work that morning, so I asked her if she could stay and watch M while I went to my appt, she said yes.
When I arrived at acupuncture Sarah said we’d go back to using the tens unit, but do it for an hour/twice as long. At the tail-end of my session I started getting cramps. Not thinking too much about it, I went home and started clearing up a miscommunication with a friend about our play date we scheduled in Boulder, to see if barometric pressure would help me get this baby out. While texting with my girlfriend my mother said she didn’t want me driving to Boulder, that she didn’t want me driving period. My mom said she’d take the rest of the day off, and take Miles and I somewhere. She said it in that mom tone where you know she’s not backing down...So, up the mountain to a Buddhist Temple (Red Feather Lakes for those of you who want a new place to venture to) we went. On our drive up my mom asked me if I should be timing my contractions, I said ‘naw, they’re not real.’ Then, a couple minutes later I realized I couldn’t carry on a full conversation through them, and realized yet again that mom was right. As I’m timing contractions I text Henry with an update about our plans and realize that we’re slowly moving out of range of cell service. Once we no longer had cell service I told my mom I wasn’t comfortable and that I’d like her to turn around. It was no more than 2 minutes after we turned around that my water broke.
I shrilled like a banshee, waking up Miles from his nap. Miles immediately started asking if the mountain goats were here. We'd promised him some mountain animal life. Poor kid. He was so excited. Good news, his excitement didn't fade when he learned that we were going to the hospital to have his baby sister. (Miles always referred to the baby in my belly as a she/her/girl.)
I immediately called Henry back and told him to meet me at the hospital, called my doula and said the same thing. I then answered an incoming call from my midwife's office telling me to ignore the previous message she left me (it was a message saying they'd push up my induction by 12 hours, my attempt to get the doctor who signed off on my VBAC paperwork to be around for the actual delivery, not just the labor), the on call doctor was not comfortable inducing for a VBAC. I told her not to worry because my water broke. The nurse asked if I was sure, if I wanted to come in and do an exam, I said, 'No, thanks. I'm heading in.' One last person to contact to have the essentials covered, Miles' sitter, Nicole. Who was a hero, ransacking our house in the dark to grab all of our bags and whatnots before coming to the hospital.
During the above phone conversations, I had to shift to grab the towel I bought with, but wasn't sitting on. See the irony coming? And I leaked more. Like a lot more. A. LOT. (For those of you wondering, I had my car professionally cleaned after I got home.)
We pulled up to the hospital's valet, my mom got out and asked the attendant to please get a wheelchair. I got out of the car and since everything shifted again, I started leaking more water. The attendant rolled up with the chair and asked me if I thought I could turn around and sit down, I motioned to my lower body that was straddling the curb, aiming the water stream away from my diaper bag and shoes. I believe this is the point where my mother wished she had pulled out her camera to take video footage. Mom said it looked like someone had turned on a filtered water faucet. Get that image out of your head.
I made it into the chair with Miles on my lap and up to L&D we went. Once in our room I was handed a cup and asked to pee in said cup. Yeah, sure. I'll make that happen. Just urine in the cup, right? Ha! My first nurse entered the room and asked about said cup, I told her what happened and she had the same reaction I did. The nurse then headed over to the towel I rode in on and wiped the towel with her test strip. Yep, positive for amniotic fluid.
From here on out, things get a little fuzzy with the details.
My nurse spent what felt like a good amount of time finding some wireless monitors that worked properly. Once those monitors were on I was free to leave the bed again. I assumed I'd be walking the halls, through contractions like I did with Miles' labor, but this was so different. Imagine that. Different pregnancy, different labor. The contractions stopped after my water broke, but quickly picked back up at this point. I measured at some point around this time, with small numbers, basically only a change in effacement from the day before. Disheartening, but my doula, Bex, reminded me that it's a positive change.
In the middle of some horrendous contractions the on call midwife had the on call OB come into my room and explain to me how dangerous it was to be trying to deliver a giant baby, with a GIANT head, and GIANT shoulders. They reminded me that I could die. Literally. And the baby could die. It was very doom and gloom. It made Henry's face go white. I had heard the same speech the day before, by the same midwife, and wasn't phased by it. Ladies have big babies all the time. And if shit goes wrong, well then, we're in the right place. But, dammit, I know my rights and my wants, let me take a crack at this VBAC. The ladies agreed to let me try, but they also let us know that the on call OB would be in the delivery room to help me delivery the baby's shoulders/make sure my pelvis didn't break the baby.
At some point there was a rather lengthy discussion about what type of catheter to use. I remember being annoyed that my midwife couldn't make this decision, a nurse had to suggest what everyone in the room knew was the right decision. Put in the cath that will be used in case of c-section.
Then there was some eating (thank you, Bex), lots of swaying, back rubbing, and saying goodbye to Miles. My next level of intervention was a bath. I was willing to try anything to manage the pain. I'm not sure how long I was in the tub before I was reminded by my sweet husband that I could get an epidural. I was pretty sure I was dying. The contractions were strong, and not giving me more than 15 seconds between them. Yeah, dying. Oh, and the jets would randomly turn on. Horrible. I was asked if I wanted to be measured before I got my epidural. My initial answer was yes, which quickly turned into 'I don't give a fuck what I measure, I want it ASAP'. My midwife wanted to measure me anyways, I let it happen. I didn't know it'd be in the tub though. You figure out the logistics of getting a giant bellied, naked, contracting, angry woman's ass up in the air and making her hover over the water. I was only at a 3. That's the only number I remember from that measurement. I was so disappointed because I was sure I was about a 15.
I had to then get out of the tub and walk to the bed with my non-stop, no rest having contractions. I remember this was one of the worst parts of my labor. Once on the table, the anesthesiologist started her work. She didn't ask when my contractions were, she just went all in. Which I didn't mind, I just kept thinking about the potential relief. Once in, she administered the trial dosage and I felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest, as if I were having a panic attack. On top of that, I only felt the meds working on one side. Thankfully, the doctor had enough knowledge to ask if I had scoliosis. To which the answer was yes. The doctor then told me that she wanted to redo the epidural, to which both Henry and I answered 'Yes, please. Please do it right.' Boy howdy did she ever. I had the same heart pounding, light headed reaction with the trial meds, but 20 minutes after figuring out the correct concentration or whatever, I felt amazing. So much better than Miles' epidural. Like I was ready to have a slumber party, chit chat the night away. But, of course every one else either went to change, eat, and/or sleep. So, I also got a little bit of rest between all the pressure and snoring in the room. Boy howdy, when epidurals work, they are simply amazing.
Again, time and numbers are a little scattered at this point. I know the number 5 was mentioned around this time. Good news? Numbers are going up and the epidural didn't slow anything down, which was another huge difference from Miles' forced labor and delivery. After more rest I started feeling lots of pressure during contractions. You ladies weren't lying about the feeling of needing to poop. Another measurement was taken, 8. That's further than I got with Miles! After a couple more hours of rest, I asked my doula if the midwife was coming back because the pressure/urge to push was now happening between contractions. My doula was awesome in communicating this info with the nurse, and soon I was being measured again.
I spiked a fever, given meds and more fluids.
The midwife finally made her way back into my room and measured me. 10. Fully effaced. But, still stationed high. What?! WHAT?!? My body does know what it's doing! My midwife said we'd try some trial pushes to see if I was ready for the real deal. After two pushes, she called in the troops and told me she was going to take out my catheter. WHAT?! I knew exactly what this meant. There was no turning back. I was going to push a baby out of my vagina.
After a couple more pushes, baby made it to a point where I could touch his head and see him in the mirror. Hair, lots of hair on that huge head. I remember the feeling of being lost, not knowing what I was doing. That there was a learning curve. That I was 37 and doing this for the first time. I expressed this to Bex and she told me I was doing great, that everyone has a first time.
We had some rough ideas of what we wanted as far as birth wishes, but just like always those got thrown out the window at the last minute. Henry had a leg and Bex had a leg. My mom was in the room. Just the people I needed there to help me through this thing. Henry, just like Miles' birth, was a great partner to labor with, except when we would breathe his minty gum in my face and yell numbers at me. Turns out neither of us knew what we were doing. Henry didn't think he'd be so close to the action, that hands on.
The OB was called in to help push shoulders through.
I could feel every contractions and decipher if they were strong or weak, that part was amazing. I would tell them them when I wanted to push, and they either okay'd it or not, asking me to rest instead.
I was told that the final push was coming soon. That I was to push and only push, there would be no resting right after the head born because of the concern about the baby's shoulders.
After 40 minutes of pushing we had a baby. A big baby with a nice set of lungs, lots of rolls, and perfect. Just perfect. Announcing the gender took some time because Henry couldn't see anything. But, I knew. I knew in my heart, I knew a long time before this moment, that it was a BOY. I only got to hold him for a brief moment because of a suspected infection. A looky loo was taken, and off Henry went to the NICU, carrying our new little angel.
As I was being sewn together I told my midwife she was 'wrong, all wrong'. I didn't even need the OB to help push the shoulders out. I was on a high. I felt like Superwoman and I wanted to scream it from a mountain top. I wanted the whole world to know that I had my VBAC, and that it was AMAZING.
Did I mention we had a birth photographer because we thought my mom (who was the photographer at Miles' birth) would be at home with Miles? Aubrey (of Aubrey Nicole Photography) was a real trooper that night! There are many photos not included in this blog due to the nature of birth.
(I'm including my Bex's notes from the delivery for timeline purposes. I want to remember this day forever.)
I shrilled like a banshee, waking up Miles from his nap. Miles immediately started asking if the mountain goats were here. We'd promised him some mountain animal life. Poor kid. He was so excited. Good news, his excitement didn't fade when he learned that we were going to the hospital to have his baby sister. (Miles always referred to the baby in my belly as a she/her/girl.)
I immediately called Henry back and told him to meet me at the hospital, called my doula and said the same thing. I then answered an incoming call from my midwife's office telling me to ignore the previous message she left me (it was a message saying they'd push up my induction by 12 hours, my attempt to get the doctor who signed off on my VBAC paperwork to be around for the actual delivery, not just the labor), the on call doctor was not comfortable inducing for a VBAC. I told her not to worry because my water broke. The nurse asked if I was sure, if I wanted to come in and do an exam, I said, 'No, thanks. I'm heading in.' One last person to contact to have the essentials covered, Miles' sitter, Nicole. Who was a hero, ransacking our house in the dark to grab all of our bags and whatnots before coming to the hospital.
During the above phone conversations, I had to shift to grab the towel I bought with, but wasn't sitting on. See the irony coming? And I leaked more. Like a lot more. A. LOT. (For those of you wondering, I had my car professionally cleaned after I got home.)
We pulled up to the hospital's valet, my mom got out and asked the attendant to please get a wheelchair. I got out of the car and since everything shifted again, I started leaking more water. The attendant rolled up with the chair and asked me if I thought I could turn around and sit down, I motioned to my lower body that was straddling the curb, aiming the water stream away from my diaper bag and shoes. I believe this is the point where my mother wished she had pulled out her camera to take video footage. Mom said it looked like someone had turned on a filtered water faucet. Get that image out of your head.
I made it into the chair with Miles on my lap and up to L&D we went. Once in our room I was handed a cup and asked to pee in said cup. Yeah, sure. I'll make that happen. Just urine in the cup, right? Ha! My first nurse entered the room and asked about said cup, I told her what happened and she had the same reaction I did. The nurse then headed over to the towel I rode in on and wiped the towel with her test strip. Yep, positive for amniotic fluid.
From here on out, things get a little fuzzy with the details.
My nurse spent what felt like a good amount of time finding some wireless monitors that worked properly. Once those monitors were on I was free to leave the bed again. I assumed I'd be walking the halls, through contractions like I did with Miles' labor, but this was so different. Imagine that. Different pregnancy, different labor. The contractions stopped after my water broke, but quickly picked back up at this point. I measured at some point around this time, with small numbers, basically only a change in effacement from the day before. Disheartening, but my doula, Bex, reminded me that it's a positive change.
In the middle of some horrendous contractions the on call midwife had the on call OB come into my room and explain to me how dangerous it was to be trying to deliver a giant baby, with a GIANT head, and GIANT shoulders. They reminded me that I could die. Literally. And the baby could die. It was very doom and gloom. It made Henry's face go white. I had heard the same speech the day before, by the same midwife, and wasn't phased by it. Ladies have big babies all the time. And if shit goes wrong, well then, we're in the right place. But, dammit, I know my rights and my wants, let me take a crack at this VBAC. The ladies agreed to let me try, but they also let us know that the on call OB would be in the delivery room to help me delivery the baby's shoulders/make sure my pelvis didn't break the baby.
At some point there was a rather lengthy discussion about what type of catheter to use. I remember being annoyed that my midwife couldn't make this decision, a nurse had to suggest what everyone in the room knew was the right decision. Put in the cath that will be used in case of c-section.
I had to then get out of the tub and walk to the bed with my non-stop, no rest having contractions. I remember this was one of the worst parts of my labor. Once on the table, the anesthesiologist started her work. She didn't ask when my contractions were, she just went all in. Which I didn't mind, I just kept thinking about the potential relief. Once in, she administered the trial dosage and I felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest, as if I were having a panic attack. On top of that, I only felt the meds working on one side. Thankfully, the doctor had enough knowledge to ask if I had scoliosis. To which the answer was yes. The doctor then told me that she wanted to redo the epidural, to which both Henry and I answered 'Yes, please. Please do it right.' Boy howdy did she ever. I had the same heart pounding, light headed reaction with the trial meds, but 20 minutes after figuring out the correct concentration or whatever, I felt amazing. So much better than Miles' epidural. Like I was ready to have a slumber party, chit chat the night away. But, of course every one else either went to change, eat, and/or sleep. So, I also got a little bit of rest between all the pressure and snoring in the room. Boy howdy, when epidurals work, they are simply amazing.
Again, time and numbers are a little scattered at this point. I know the number 5 was mentioned around this time. Good news? Numbers are going up and the epidural didn't slow anything down, which was another huge difference from Miles' forced labor and delivery. After more rest I started feeling lots of pressure during contractions. You ladies weren't lying about the feeling of needing to poop. Another measurement was taken, 8. That's further than I got with Miles! After a couple more hours of rest, I asked my doula if the midwife was coming back because the pressure/urge to push was now happening between contractions. My doula was awesome in communicating this info with the nurse, and soon I was being measured again.
I spiked a fever, given meds and more fluids.
The midwife finally made her way back into my room and measured me. 10. Fully effaced. But, still stationed high. What?! WHAT?!? My body does know what it's doing! My midwife said we'd try some trial pushes to see if I was ready for the real deal. After two pushes, she called in the troops and told me she was going to take out my catheter. WHAT?! I knew exactly what this meant. There was no turning back. I was going to push a baby out of my vagina.
After a couple more pushes, baby made it to a point where I could touch his head and see him in the mirror. Hair, lots of hair on that huge head. I remember the feeling of being lost, not knowing what I was doing. That there was a learning curve. That I was 37 and doing this for the first time. I expressed this to Bex and she told me I was doing great, that everyone has a first time.
We had some rough ideas of what we wanted as far as birth wishes, but just like always those got thrown out the window at the last minute. Henry had a leg and Bex had a leg. My mom was in the room. Just the people I needed there to help me through this thing. Henry, just like Miles' birth, was a great partner to labor with, except when we would breathe his minty gum in my face and yell numbers at me. Turns out neither of us knew what we were doing. Henry didn't think he'd be so close to the action, that hands on.
The OB was called in to help push shoulders through.
I could feel every contractions and decipher if they were strong or weak, that part was amazing. I would tell them them when I wanted to push, and they either okay'd it or not, asking me to rest instead.
I was told that the final push was coming soon. That I was to push and only push, there would be no resting right after the head born because of the concern about the baby's shoulders.
After 40 minutes of pushing we had a baby. A big baby with a nice set of lungs, lots of rolls, and perfect. Just perfect. Announcing the gender took some time because Henry couldn't see anything. But, I knew. I knew in my heart, I knew a long time before this moment, that it was a BOY. I only got to hold him for a brief moment because of a suspected infection. A looky loo was taken, and off Henry went to the NICU, carrying our new little angel.
As I was being sewn together I told my midwife she was 'wrong, all wrong'. I didn't even need the OB to help push the shoulders out. I was on a high. I felt like Superwoman and I wanted to scream it from a mountain top. I wanted the whole world to know that I had my VBAC, and that it was AMAZING.
Did I mention we had a birth photographer because we thought my mom (who was the photographer at Miles' birth) would be at home with Miles? Aubrey (of Aubrey Nicole Photography) was a real trooper that night! There are many photos not included in this blog due to the nature of birth.
(I'm including my Bex's notes from the delivery for timeline purposes. I want to remember this day forever.)
Ehrgott, Jessica / Corben
12.13.2017 DOB
70%/-3/1 1/2cm
Contractions every 3-4min
1724- contractions every 2 min apart
1700- Dr. Kraus
Recommending cesarean due to baby’s size and possible shoulder dystocia. Discussed TOLAC.
1715
Ate berries and 1/2 sandwich
1730
In the tub.
1800
Zofran
1830
Client requested exam to decided if she wants the epidural posthaste
3, 80%, -2 - requested epidural
1920
Epidural placed after solid 7min of placing
Test making heart rate go up- intravascular placement-1928 reattempting new epidural
2000
Doula and photographer left to find nourishment
2100
4, 80%, -2
Doula and photographer stepped out to rest
2300
8 1/2, 80%, 0
12.13.2017
0101
Fever of 101.1
Baby looking a little “tachy”, pushing more IV fluid
0115
Complete with “slippable” cervix lip
135 pushing
0224 baby!!
Boy
9lb 8oz / 21 1/4 long / 37cm HC
0340 doula over and out
Amazing story, and beautifully written! Thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThe horrible bathtub jets. Holy shit, why would they do that to a woman in labor?!??!!?! I remember them well. Also, those midwives need to lay off a bit with the negative talk. Midwives are supposed to make you feel empowered, not the opposite. I have a pic of the placenta from Louis's birth; there was a double knot in the umbilical cord! They said it was one of the longest cords they'd ever seen! Maybe that's why he's so tall...hehe. Miss you guys!
Happy birthday to Corben!