Hi friends!
Today I wanted to introduce those of you not following on IG to baby Nora Jean, born at 5:06 PM last Sunday, the 7th, and weighing in at 8lbs 10 ounces and 21 1/4 inches.
(PS, this post is likely to have more grammatical errors than usual. Even Grammarly can’t make up for the sleep deprivation of newborn life.)
I can now say that I have had three completely different birth stories, each as unique as my children and their birth weights. This one definitely gave me the biggest run for my physical and mental strength, though. For those of you who are only here for the recipes, I’ll be back in with recipes in a couple of weeks (I paid someone to help re-photograph some old tried and true HH recipes and am looking forward to jazzing up those old posts a bit). So, if you are only here for the recipes, feel free to skip this one!
However, if you are the kind of person that loves hearing about birth stories (I know I always did when I was pregnant, especially the first time), then this post is for you!
For reference, here is my first birth story with KJ and my second birth story with KK.
So, let’s start on Thursday the 4th. I went in for my 40-week appointment and had my membranes stripped. I was 1cm dilated and 80% effaced. My doctor suggested setting an induction for anytime Sunday – Tuesday if there was still no baby. Since I went into labor naturally with KK at the last second, I was a little worried I would have to have an induction, but not too worried. But then, the doctor’s office called and said they couldn’t get in for induction until the following Saturday, the 13th. Since that was two full weeks from my due date, they wanted me to head into OB triage on Sunday for an NST and BP.
After the membrane stripping, I had a decent amount of bleeding but not very much cramping. I had one time I felt a little gush of fluid, but I figured it was just blood since it didn’t happen again that day. Friday, I had two small gushes. Again since it wasn’t happening consistently, I chalked it up to poor bladder control or blood. But, on Saturday, I was feeling little trickles randomly throughout the day, and by the evening, I started to think maybe it was something to pay attention to. Especially because I had a wet feeling I couldn’t get rid of. I called my doctor, and he said to go on in, that if it was nothing, I could just do my NST and BP while there instead of coming in the next day. I was fairly sure it was nothing but a third-time mom’s poor bladder control, but because I had an infection with our first birth and was GBS-positive this time, I knew it was better to be safe than sorry.
We checked into OB triage around 730PM, and by 8 PM, we were informed that I indeed had a leak and would be started on antibiotics right away. I would be given penicillin every four hours till delivery (for being GBS positive.)
I was absolutely shocked. The leak had been so minimal I really thought we’d be going home. I was both relieved and a little upset because I was starting this journey not in natural labor. I got my IV in via an ultrasound-guided insertion (which I requested since the last time I was there, they tried to get it in four times before finally calling the SWAT nurse) and was started on antibiotics. I would continue to be given antibiotics every four hours until I delivered. Unfortunately, there was only one cleaner for the whole hospital that night, and we ended up having to wait in triage until 1130PM for a room. I did a lot of walking, which did help elicit some cramping, but nothing exciting. (Triage, however, was very exciting. Enter a woman who had a baby in the car. Was I a little jealous? Yes.)
At 1230PM, my doctor inserted a balloon which actually didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would. The point of the balloon is to dilate you to 3-5 cm, but it’s a mechanical dilation meaning forced. I was 2cm and 70% effaced (somehow down from the 80% I had been in the doctor’s office?). I slept for a couple of hours at 230AM, I went to the bathroom, and the nurse checked the balloon, but it was still working its magic. I had a lot of cramping between 230 and 4 am. I even got in the shower for a while. It was intense, not labor intensive, but still A TON of pressure and cramping. At 4 am, I went to pee, and the balloon popped into the toilet. Pretty gross, haha. They decided to see if my contractions would go anywhere and leave me alone for a while.
At 5 AM, I was having contractions every 10 mins that were getting more intensified. It felt like the beginning of the labor with KK, so I decided to get in the tub. Unfortunately, that was the wrong move. I should have kept walking or doing anything to keep pressure on the cervix because, in the tub, the contractions fizzled to nothing. By 6 am, I didn’t have anything at all. I wish I hadn’t got in the tub, but what was done was done. I walked, drank coffee, and felt very, very, very discouraged.
At 7 AM, I tried pumping and walking alternating. I also ate a bagel and cream cheese.
By 930AM, I was finally having very, very minor contractions. But they were counting on me being ruptured over 24 hours at this point (and it could have been longer.) My doctor wanted to start me on pitocin, but I wanted him to break my water. I felt that if he fully broke my water, I would go into labor pretty quickly. I discussed the risks/benefits of each option with my nurse and constantly communicated with my doula. When I discussed it with my doula, she was very frank. “The fact is you may need both, hunny, you’re not in labor, and you’ve been ruptured a long time. They are going to want to move things along now.” Since I was GBS positive AND I had an infection with my first baby, I knew this was luck I did not want to push. I did not want another NICU or Special Care Unit to stay if I could help it.
Side note: I know many doulas stay with their clients from the beginning to the end of labor. My doula has more of the philosophy of swooping in when things get tough, and she is needed. Based on my experience with KK, I felt like that’s what I needed. I wanted the special time with Mr. Hungry and me until I couldn’t manage anymore. So this philosophy worked well for us.
At 10 AM, my doctor broke my water. I was 4cm and negative 2 station —this time, only 60% effaced. I’ll never understand how that number kept going backward. They gave me 1-2 hours to start having contractions otherwise, it was pitocin time. Despite walking, nothing was happening, so I reluctantly agreed to the pitocin.
By 1130AM, the pitocin was started. I opted to watch TV and rest rather than walk the halls pacing like a caged animal. I figured I’d need my energy later, and I’d just let modern medicine do its thing. I don’t know if my nurse was telling me the truth, but she had natural labor followed by induced labor with pitocin for a leak and said it was hard but not all that different. That I could, in fact, still go unmedicated. I took comfort in knowing my doula was at the hospital and ready to come up as soon as things started getting real. I ate an uncrustable for lunch, and every 30 minutes, the nurse came in and bumped up the amount of pitocin.
At 2 pm, I had strong regular contractions every 3-5 minutes (pitocin level 12). I was hooked up to an IV pole and needed continuous monitoring, so I couldn’t leave the room but could walk around. The nurse discouraged me from getting in the shower or tub at this point. She didn’t want the contractions to fizzle out again. Without being able to move a lot or have the ability to get in the shower or tub (where I had spent most of my labor with KK), I told my doula I was ready for her. I didn’t know what to do but stand there still and breathe through contractions which seemed overwhelming. I remember looking at the bed. The thinking was too low to lean on, and I just felt frozen.
My doula, Michelle, came up immediately once I said I was ready. From 2-4 PM, I listened to my hypnobirthing tapes and cues from Michelle. Every 5-10 contractions, she would move me into a different position and teach me how to breathe through them. It was VERY different from what I did with my labor with KK. She coached me on breathing into the contraction instead of breathing like I was blowing out a candle. The nurse was also there the whole time, as they had to monitor the baby continuously. So the nurse was on the baby with the monitor every step of the way while Michelle repositioned me and coached me. The relief of Michelle massaging my back and hips, providing counter pressure, and coaching me is almost indescribable. The counterpressure, the massage, and the encouragement took me through those two very tough hours. They were physically and mentally draining, especially considering we’d been up all night with just an hour or two of sleep. There is no way in hell I would have made it even two hours without her support.
Photo Credit: Michelle Modern Mama Doula
At 4 PM, I felt more pressure in my bottom vs. uterus, so I asked for a check. I was only 7cm, not as far as I had hoped to be. Things were getting very intense, so I asked to try the gas. The nitrous gas was interesting. It did elicit a calmness but did not take the pain away. I’d say it bought me 10-15 minutes of rest at best. The next 20-25 minutes were a blur, but as things intensified, I hoped it was almost over. As it intensified, I asked for another check. The nurse checked me and said, “I still had a little bit to go.” I kept asking for a number, and she said she’d wait till my doctor came in to get a number. (She later told me she couldn’t give a number because I was a nine on one side and a seven on the other.) My doctor checked me and said I was still at a 7. You can see the defeat on my face in this photo Michelle took.
Photo Credit: Michelle Modern Mama Doula
And cue the screaming for an epidural. I was sure there was no way I could do this anymore. Being at a 7 felt so far away from the end. Michelle did a great job coaching me, talking to me, and letting me know that they heard me and would honor my request. She also kept reminding me that a seven could change to a ten instantly, which I did not believe for a second. To me, being a seven still was as bad as being a 4.
They started the fluid bolus for the epidural and called the anesthesiologist to review my birth with KJ to ensure I could actually receive an epidural again (given the complications.) The anesthesiologist gave his blessing, stating that my heart rate complications were most likely due to our infection, but I still had to wait for the fluids to go through. Someone suggested I get in the shower, and finally, I did.
Michelle came into the bathroom with me and gave me a Come to Jesus talk. She said, “We hear you, we are working on it, but we can’t make the fluids go any faster than they are. “ When I said I couldn’t do it anymore, she was very frank. I can’t remember her exact words, but it was to the effect of “Yes, you can. You have to. There is no other option, and you are strong enough.” The warm water helped, and so did the pep talk as I realized that next-level freaking out was getting me nowhere. The best I can describe the feeling is deciding not to fight the contractions anymore but to embrace them with the breathing that I had just practiced the last two hours and the warm water. I had 4-6 more contractions in the shower that I felt entirely in my rectum (yes, like I had to poop.) I kept saying I had to use the bathroom, and Michelle kept saying okay then, come out, and you can go.
Then, all of a sudden, I had the most intense feeling ever, like the baby would drop out of me. I stepped out of the shower and instinctively put my hands under me. I kept yelling oh shit. She’s coming! She’s coming now! I made my way to the bed, where I was most comfortable since I had delivered my other children that way. I was sure this time. There was no way I was wrong. And the best I can describe the look on everyone’s faces, Mr. Hungry, Michelle, and my nurse, was a relief. They had wanted me to make it through without needing the epidural, maybe more than I wanted to at that moment. When the doctor checked, he said she was right there. Go ahead and push. They told me to reach down and feel. I tried but didn’t feel anything I recognized as a baby. (Reaching down to deliver and mirrors have never been my thing in birth, haha.)
Photo Credit: Michelle Modern Mama Doula
Despite her being a smaller baby than KK, pushing her out was not as easy as it was for KK, who came out in 3 big pushes. She was about 10-15 minutes of hard work, leaning into the pain and the burning. I think the delivery is the one aspect of birth that being into fitness comes with its perks. When you lift weights, you learn to push through the pain for that last rep. That’s what delivery is like to me. It’s pushing through the hardest, most intense one rep max. This time was harder, though; I might have given up if I hadn’t done it twice before. I remember telling myself (in my head) over and over and this is the easy part. You can get this baby out. You’ve done it before. And then, at 5:06 PM, she was out and on my chest. I’ve never been so shocked in my whole life because I thought I was going to get that epidural this time. After being at the hospital with so much start and stop labor, I couldn’t believe that she was finally here.
Photo Credit: Michelle Modern Mama Doula
The delivery of the placenta was something I barely noticed with the first two kids, but this one seemed a bit harder. My doctor said I had a small superficial tear that did not require repair. (I needed two stitches with each boy, which was welcome news.)
After a while, Michelle asked if I wanted help getting her to latch since she was not interested in it, and I said yes. Michelle got her to latch, but she kept coming off and crying. They said this was likely because she spent zero time in the birth canal. She basically went from the -2 station to her way out in the manner of minutes. She needed time to clear her lungs, and that was done by crying. She would nurse and then cry, nurse and then cry, nurse and then cry. But we had about one hour of skin-to-skin time, and then they weighed her and gave newborn interventions (I let them do all of them.) I got up and went to the bathroom. It felt good to move around a bit. I was getting terrible tailbone pain on the hospital bed. (This happened with KK too.)
Photo Credit: Michelle Modern Mama Doula
Photo Credit: Michelle Modern Mama Doula
After a bit longer, we were moved to postpartum. We said goodbye to Michelle and our phenomenal nurse and settled in. The nurse in the postpartum unit noticed I was still bleeding more than she would like, so she said to call her if I felt anything unusual. A couple of hours after we were in the recovery room, I had a gush of blood, and then another, and then another. I went to the bathroom, and I remember a sea of red, all over the bed, all over the floor, everywhere. I told Mr. Hungry to take the baby, and I hit the call button and stated that there was blood, a lot of blood. About five nurses came rushing into our room. If I hadn’t been so scared, I would have been so impressed by their efficiency and teamwork. Eventually, I passed a very, very, very large clot that I later learned likely contained a microscopic piece of placenta preventing the uterus from clamping down.
They were monitoring blood loss and immediately started me on more pitocin. The bleeding, then, slowed down. My doctor came down to evaluate me and ordered a catheter to keep my bladder empty (which apparently also helps the uterus do its thing to stop bleeding.) The whole experience was nothing short of terrifying for both me and Mr. Hungry. While it wasn’t a severe enough hemorrhage to need a transfusion or other medication, I shudder at the thought of what would have happened if I hadn’t been at the hospital. I had no risk factors for a hemorrhage at all other than having multiple births. The nurse checked on me every single time I felt anything the rest of the night, probably coming into our room 20 times and helping with the baby since I couldn’t get out of bed.
Luckily, despite the complications, we were cleared to take her home the following night. The least amount of time we’ve spent in the hospital post-delivery ever, thank goodness, because my tailbone does not love those beds. Because of the complications at night, we didn’t get too many in-hospital photos. But here are a few! Mostly from discharge day.
And meeting the boys!
Was the Induced Labor Harder than Natural Labor?
For me, yes. I think pitocin is a bitch I never wanted to meet. But there were a few additional factors at play:
- I’d been up for like 24 hours continuously, so I was drained of energy.
- I was unable to get in the tub because of fears of the contractions fizzling. (Again, where I spent most of my labor with KK.)
- The baby stayed up high for a really long time, only dropping down moments before delivery.
Mr. Hungry told me that the nurse really did not want me to get the epidural. Of course, she called for it when asked, but she had told him she hoped I could make it. Her concern was after she felt that second time that I was way more dilated on one side than the other, she felt the baby still needed to turn a bit to descend. If I had gotten the epidural, I would have lost gravities effect encouraging her to turn and descend. I may have stalled at 7cm and then would have needed an emergency C-section. Epidural stalling labor is a risk in any labor, but the uneven dilation made her more concerned about it.
Luckily it worked out for me. But, because of the factors above, it was one thousand times harder than my natural labor with KK. Thank God I had hired Michelle, or I would have never in a million trillion years made it through.
Unmedicated vs. Medicated.
I’m done having babies. Finite. Between the hernia this pregnancy and the scary postpartum hemorrhage, I’ve had all I can take when it comes to pregnancy and childbirth. Plus, I’m grateful for the feeling of family completeness both Mr. Hungry and I now feel. However, for anyone who asks, I tell them that I think it’s a good idea to prepare for labor. Epidurals can fail (I’ve had it happen to friends.) Or a million other things can happen. Plus, the longer you wait for an epidural, the less likely it will stall labor. So, I think it’s a great idea to prepare for laboring, even if you plan an epidural (something I did not do enough of before my first.) But, just like I said after I had KK, I’m still not totally sure the pain I endured, especially in this labor, was “worth it.” I don’t regret trying in this case, especially knowing I sidestepped c section risk. And I’m incredibly proud of what my body did and what I endured, but I don’t think unmedicated is the right choice for everyone or every labor. Having witnessed one medicated labor and two unmedicated labors, Mr. Hungry feels the exact same way I do. The benefits of unmedicated are long, but are they worth the pain I endured? I’d have to shrug my shoulders and say maybe, not sure, haha. Probably. I guess. Definitely no clear-cut answer there.
That’s it, friends!
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