Birth Story- and a Local TV Star

Ah, what an adventure.

When we went in for the biophysical profile on Friday, I never thought we'd be spending almost a week in the hospital, even though I'd been feeling bad mojo since Thursday night.. Basically, our little Jonah flunked it soundly, barely moving at all despite lots of stimulation and a large meal and a sprite beforehand. Out of 10 points, he scored 4, with 8 being the least acceptable score, and 6 being marginal. They sent us right to the hospital.

Once we got in triage I learned my cervix was unchanged, but J's heartrate tracing was a little improved. Because of the poor test results showing distress, we were forced to induce right away. Since my cervix wasn't soft enough yet, our options were chemical, with Cervidil, or physical, with a foley catheter bulb inserted and inflated through the piddly 1 cm opening. Because he was already distressed, they did not want to use a chemical stimulant on top of the eventual Pitocin, so foley it was. And incredibly painful to boot. Once it was inserted, we were admitted, and figured it would take all night for it to thin my cervix. I was forced to wear a continuous fetal monitor to ensure he was still alive in there- but no complaints here. There is no way in hell I could have endured otherwise. Once inserted, it jump-started labor, and I immediately began to contract every 4 minutes. We called our doula Eileen, but she was at another birth, which ended up going through until 5 am. Luckily, I had my I.pod and was able to zone out using my hypnobirthing techniques without any assistance. I was offered pain meds multiple times, but didn't feel I needed them. I did take a sleep aid, since I found the bed very uncomfortable (as well as the too small rocking chair), and had an hour or two of fitful dozing between contractions. Mr S was awake the whole time as well.

By 11 am the next morning, the foley bulb spontaneously came out. I was 5 cm and figured once the Pitocin was started, I would have the baby by evening. They let me have one last shower, and our doula, who had pulled an all-nighter, showed up and took a nap while we walked the hall for a while. Overnight, baby J's tracing had vastly improved, and we wondered if what had been causing the problem had cleared up.

They started the Pit at 1pm. I was 5 cm and 70% effaced. It was ramped up all day, leaving me contracting every 2 minutes, lasting one minute, from 2-3 pm onward. Over multiple times getting checked my cervix never changed. We figured it was because of his poor posterior positioning and were in for a very long labor. Our doula was a lifesaver. I had killer back labor and was tethered to the fetal monitor that only allowed the small range of the bed, rocking chair, and birthing ball. No long soaks in the tub. She brought a crock pot to diffuse lavender in the air, which I love, since hospital smell is revolting to me. She kept a heated rice bag against my back and applied counter pressure with each contraction. She and Mr S rubbed my feet and legs. The L & D nurses weren't familiar with hypnobirthing but were all wonderful and supportive. They had never seen anyone doze off during a contraction before. I didn't make any noise and at one point one of the nurses became concerned that I was unconscious. Ha! I wish... Mr S and Eileen took pictures of me looking like a zombie while the monitor next to me shows contractions 2 minutes apart so our instructor can use them in class.

This went on for another 12 hours until around 1 am. The midwife had been very supportive of me, and since Baby J looked fine on the monitor, no one every said to me, "You haven't changed in 6, 8, 10, 12 hours...we need to think of something else." When she checked me at 1am I was still only 5 cm and 70%- and was 3/4 maxed on the Pitocin. It was incredibly discouraging. I had been in every position, including ones that made my back labor even worse, in hopes of turning him to an optimal position. It was looking like another entire day could pass with very slow, if any progress. I was given 2 options- we could break my water in hopes of spurring things along, and/or increase the Pitocin to the maximum allowed dose. All along I had declined breaking my water, but when offered this time I had a bad feeling about it- the same kind when I'm driving into work and feeling like my patient is going to die that day. I said no again, and the midwife respected my decision. Not having slept since Thursday night, I didn't think I could do that again, plus endure maxed out Pit and go through another long day of labor. Our doula and the midwife both suggested an epidural to help me rest and allow me to handle the insanely strong contractions. I agreed, and within an hour I had it in.

That's when things got worse again. Up until then, J had looked fantastic on the tracing. Within an hour of the epi going in and the Pit being maxed out, he lost a lot of variability and began having late decelerations- a really bad sign, though his heart-rate never drastically dropped. I spent the night wearing an oxygen mask and laying on my side, with Mr S and Eileen turning me every hour between catnaps. Because J wasn't handling the stronger contractions, we had to turn down the Pit for most of the night as well, though they were still coming every 2 minutes. I did get a few hours sleep, as did Mr S in the recliner, and Eileen, who slept on the floor next to me.

I was awake at 6am and still feeling that sense of foreboding. I remember looking at the infant warmer in the room and thinking our son would never lie in it. I discussed me fears with Eileen, who encouraged me to go with my gut and stand firm when it came to making decisons. The midwife came again at 7 am and checked me. You guessed it. Not a single change in 36 hours. I had this urgent feeling that he must come out and come out NOW. I was starting to fear that he might die. I kept looking at the tracing and it was so flat my nurse mind was chasing rabbits in a hundred directions. She offered to break my water again and I started to cry, saying I was afraid he would die and just wanted to go to the OR. She told me if that's how I feel there must be a reason and she would get the OB on call. Although it wasn't an emergency, they scheduled me for the 1st section of the day, at 8:30, and started prepping me.

Having been scrubbed in for many c-sections, I was hyper-aware of things that could go wrong, and was riddled with anxiety. It didn't help that once they started cutting near my bladder, I discovered I could feel pain, and they had to stop the procedure while anesthesia gave me an extra dose of meds. Once J was out, though, I could totally focus on him and ignore the creepy, can't move or feel your body below your chest feeling.

So, were my feelings of foreboding correct? In a nutshell, yes. Jonah's cord was wrapped around his neck twice- not in and of itself a bad thing. Plenty of kids are born vaginally with cords around their necks each day with no problems. Because his placenta was near the top of my uterus, and the length of the cord, it was pulled taut, basically hanging him upside-down from his neck in utero. I never progressed because he couldn't descend- tethered like a dog on a leash. When we had the Pit increased to the max, it compressed the cord even further, which is why he looked like crap after the epi and likely during the prenatal testing. We like to think that transient looking-like-crap that sent us to the hospital was his way of saying, get me out before I try to come myself, because, as the OB told us, to break his water in that state would have led to an emergency C-section at best, and a death at worst. It still freaks me out these three days later to think that if I had not steadfastly listened to my gut, it may have been truly the shittiest Mother's Day of All.

And what about the TV? Six hours after having surgery, I got a call from the Nursing Officer asking me if I would consent to be interviewed by the local Fox news. The L & D nurses had recommended me for the interview for being "such a trooper" the past 3 days. I hadn't brought any makeup, so the nurses came up with theirs, prettied me up, and Jonah, Mr S, and I got our 15 seconds of fame on TV. Nice Mother's Day present, eh?