Preterm Delivery, Healthy Baby!

This was our first pregnancy. My husband and I were so excited and thankful! I have a connective tissue disorder and we were nervous about how things might go with pregnancy and delivery. We had longed to start our family, but had to wait until now due to a major surgery I had a couple of years earlier. We thank God for this healthy chapter in our lives, a healthy pregnancy, and a healthy boy.

Our amazing friend and doula, Aimee, was an invaluable part of our team and helped us to know the questions we needed to ask, as well as the possible scenarios to discuss with our doctors. She also researched my condition thoroughly, and asked us questions to understand it better. Aimee was very thorough in learning about my specific risks in childbirth. She also asked us how we were doing physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. She was a great listener and we never felt like a question was too silly to ask her. She is very smart, caring, and compassionate, as are others we have met through Gentle Childbirth Services. They have a rich knowledge of childbirth to help counsel and guide clients through the journey of pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum.

There were two main risks we were told we had with labor and delivery due to my condition. These were rapid labor and premature birth. I started having contractions at 32 weeks. We went to the hospital and were able to get things slowed down. They gave me the steroid shots for our baby and I was sent home on bed rest. The next evening, my water broke and we headed to the hospital knowing this was it. The next time we came home, we would be parents! We had called our doctor and Aimee and she headed to the hospital to meet us. Things progressed quickly, especially since I was 2 cm dilated and 90 % effaced when I was sent home on bed rest. They progressed so quickly that we thought we might not make it into a delivery room before our baby was born.

Our team consisted of Jon and I, my mother, Aimee, and the medical staff. Aimee brought a sense of calmness to our lives during such a new, scary, and exciting time. This was even more evident on this night, the night our son would be born. As soon as Aimee walked/ran into the delivery room, I felt a calmness invade the room. My body was already pushing due to the rapid labor and I had no idea I had already progressed so far. I was wondering how much harder it was going to get, thinking I was much earlier in labor than I was, until I realized my body was pushing already. We knew we were having a natural birth unless there was an emergency, so seeing Aimee come in was so reassuring. She spoke with my mom and husband and rushed to my side. Our wonderful nurse and doula communicated perfectly and helped me so much! Since I was 32 weeks and 5 days along there was a lot of people in the room. Mostly, I remember just a few voices. The doctor, nurse, Aimee, and Jon are the voices I remember the most. I especially remember Aimee’s calm and encouraging voice, as well as her telling me that I was about to meet my baby when he was being born. That helped me focus on Eli and the task at hand.

When Eli was born, we all rejoiced and the doctor led a prayer. Since Eli was healthy for a preemie, I got to hold him a few minutes before the NICU team took him to get him checked out. Aimee stayed with my mom and I while Jon went with our son Eli.

Parenthood is amazing! It is the hardest and most wonderful job ever and we thank God that we have friends like Aimee to guide us as we started this journey!

First baby, Unexpected Induction

My birth story was nothing like I expected but everything I prayed for: compassionate nurses that are natural birth friendly, wisdom in every decision made, encouraging labor atmosphere/ no fear, energy for labor, husband and doula (Aimee), effective communication between us and staff, and baby delivered successfully vaginally.

My water started to slowly break Sunday afternoon and I expected to be in active labor that night. My body did seem to start labor that night with contractions 2.5 to 3.5 minutes apart but surprisingly stopped abruptly. When labor had not started Monday afternoon, I started different techniques: nipple stimulation, husband activities, walking, and swinging. When nothing worked, I started to have extreme anxiety about my baby getting an infection. After speaking multiple times with my doula, the nurse, and husband, we decided the best thing to do for me personally was to go to the hospital.  My anxiety was high, I could not rest and while I now realize my baby would have been ok, at the time, I needed to put my mind at rest and get checked.

On our way to the ER Monday night, my contractions immediately started and I knew then that fear had stopped my labor and just the peace of going to get checked had allowed the contractions to begin again. We arrived at the ER and test results were positive for amniotic fluid, so I was sent to labor and delivery. Atmosphere was very important for me and having this nurse (who I learned had natural birth herself!) helped me to relax and have confidence that I would be taken care of until Aimee got there. When the physician arrived, he was not happy with my progress. Being worried about infection, he wanted to start Pitocin. After giving me an hour to make progress and failing, we agreed on a slow Pitocin drip to mimic natural labor. This was the part I had not expected, but I thanked the Lord for every contraction at this point because I knew the alternative was full Pitocin. I was so grateful for the effective communication, and that the physician met us in the middle with a slow Pitocin drip.

The Pitocin started my labor nicely, but also caused me to have one contraction from Pitocin followed immediately by my own body’s natural contraction and then a rest. Contractions at first were really easy for me to relax through because they were similar to my extreme menstrual cramps. Once the contractions started getting past that point, counter pressure (that Aimee showed my husband) and the peanut ball were the most helpful. There was a point where the peanut ball no longer helped and I no longer wanted cervix checked in fear of discouragement from no progress. I started different positions: leaning over bed, hands and knees, squatting, birthing ball and deep “oh” sounds. Some positions worked for me but caused my baby’s heart rate to drop, so we did what worked for baby. My husband still applied counter pressure which was still helpful and continued through each contraction until I started pushing. Aimee helped me get up to go the bathroom frequently, and during one restroom break I felt the urge to push. At this point, Aimee encouraged me to get checked and I had indeed made progress (although I honestly can’t remember my measurement). Pushing is when my deep “oh” sounds turned to screaming. Screaming was getting me nowhere and Aimee suggested I turn all my screaming energy towards pushing. Once I did that, major progress started and my husband could soon see my son’s head! I loved pushing because it took away the pain from the contraction. I felt my son’s head of hair and was encouraged to keep going and push harder. The doctor eventually asked if I wanted to grab my baby. I found his arms and lifted him into my arms! All the pain was worth it, seeing my healthy baby staring at me.

There were many times I wanted to quit but only two times that I said it out loud. If it was not for Aimee who I looked to during these times for her facial expressions, I would not have been able to complete natural birth successfully. Seeing her remain calm helped me know that everything was ok and I could continue even though I didn’t feel like I could. 

A natural induction

I always heard “you never remember the bad parts about labor and delivery. Everything is erased the moment your child Is born.” For me that is not true. I remember every single second of our daughter Alice’s birth. I remember every....single...moment. I remember the waiting, the pacing, every contraction, every push, everything. Moreover, I feel incredibly lucky that I do remember. Because everytime I see Alice smile I remember experiencing bringing her into this world and the joy I felt through every painful second of her labor.

At 40 weeks my doctor checked me and shook his head. I was nowhere near ready to deliver Alice, and I was perfectly content to let her stay and cozy for as long as she needed. I did not want to rush her, and thankfully neither did my doctor. I had searched for a doctor that would be on board with a natural delivery, and Dr. Huggins was the ticket. He smiled at me and told me to come back at 41 weeks. There was no mention of induction. There was no talk of a C-section. I was in good hands.

41 weeks came and went with no change. I was still certain that Alice was healthy and strong and Dr. Huggins agreed. However he told me that at 42 weeks he would feel irresponsible if we did not discuss our options. I agreed and settled in for what I knew would be another full week. Sure enough I showed up, still pregnant, at my doctor’s office at 42 weeks. An ultrasound revealed my amniotic fluid had decreased and my placenta was well past its prime. Dr. Huggins hugged me and told me, “it’s just time”. Tears immediately welled in my eyes and I envisioned another induction experience like the birth of our 5-year-old son, Homer. Dr. Huggins knew how strongly I felt about being able to have an un-medicated birth so he suggested trying a balloon catheter first. My husband, Philip, and I were excited at the prospect of still being able to go into labor at home as we’d hoped. We left the doctor’s office with a little spring in our step (as springy as you can get at 42 weeks).

The balloon catheter went in. The balloon catheter came out. There was no progress. I was certain I would be sent immediately for a high dose of pitocin, encouraged to have an epidural...the works. Instead, Dr. Huggins suggested starting me at a very low level of pitocin. He wanted me to be able to go without an epidural if possible, and stick to as much of my birth plan as he could while ensuring the safety of Alice. We went through an entire day of pitocin with absolutely zero progress. I was exhausted. I had laid in bed, watching the clock move slowly, nervous that at the end of the day they would crank it up and throw me into the landslide of labor interventions. Wrong again. Dr. Huggins made a crucial decision to remove me from pitocin, allow me to have the night off, get some food, get some sleep, and start again the next day with the pitocin. I was shocked. Another day? Two days of this? I was surprised and overjoyed! I had never heard of going on and then off of pitocin. And where was this option during my first birth? I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Huggins was not about to rush this birth.

Alice was still thriving, and Huggins knew that if I continued pitocin through the night I would be too tired to endure the marathon that was ahead. So instead of staying the course of many a modern doctor, Dr. Huggins stop the IV, unhooked me, encouraged me to take a walk and to eat a fabulous dinner with my husband. Whole Foods pizza never tasted so good.

The next morning, bright and early at 6am, we started our second day of pictocin. My body had been warmed up, and a couple hours later my uterus finally decided to wake up and join the party. The contractions started very slowly. Dr. Huggins still wanted to mimic natural labor as closely as possible, so I was started on the pitcocin very slowly. As they increased the drip in small increments the contractions grew stronger. I wanted to get out of bed, to move my hips and let the contractions flow through me as I walked around. Unfortunately, I still had my trusty IV with me, so the walking IV pole became my friend, traveling up and down the hallways with me Philip. My husband and I entertained ourselves as much as one possibly can while wandering the same hallway back and forth for an hour. It was a good time for us. We knew what was ahead and our nervousness and excitement were bundled up in a tightly wound ball of anticipation. I tried to unwind that ball in my head with every step I took. I breathed. I listened to Alice. I felt my physical self in a way I had never experienced before. As I walked the contractions grew stronger. At one point I had to stop and brace myself with the hand rail with each rush. The waves passed over me and Philip and I started laughing again. I knew as long as I could talk and laugh we had a long way to go. Then the talking stopped. Philip looked at me (slightly scared) and asked if he needed to call Aimee. I shook my head, no. Two minutes later a contraction almost took me to my knees. I told Philip to call Aimee....NOW.

We slowly made our way back to the room and Aimee arrived. She was the most welcome sight I had seen all day. Her energy flooded the room and suddenly I knew that I could do this. I could push through these walls and get to the other side. Her calm gaze and reassuring touch told me that I was doing what millions of women had been doing for millions of years. This was what my body was engineered to do. I felt the confidence I needed to labor and deliver Alice.

The contractions quickly grew intense and very close together. I moved from the ball to the shower to the bed. I finally settled on the ball as my favorite place to ride the contractions. Aimee was with me the entire time. She kept telling me how great I was doing, and kept reminding me that I would meet my baby soon. This got me through the darkest moment in my labor. Each contraction was its own monster. And each time I felt myself sliding into a rabbit hole of despair Aimee and my husband were right there to pick me up again. At one point I felt this was my destiny, to be endlessly in the pain of labor. I knew I had to continue but I wasn’t sure I had it in me. And then suddenly I was there. Every cell in my being told me to start pushing. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. Aimee gave me the green light and told me that if my body was telling me to push then I could push. I was on my knees with my upper body leaning on the ball and with the next contraction I felt my muscles work in a way they had never worked before. It was the most excruciating feeling and yet it felt so good. I felt powerful. Eventually Aimee told me that I could move to the bed and face the wall to push. I took her advice and somehow made it to the bed. I continued to push and Aimee’s voice in my ear kept encouraging me every minute along the way. And then suddenly things moved quickly. With a single push I could feel Alice drop and begin to crown. I’m pretty sure this is when I started yelling. Aimee told me to stop for a moment but I couldn’t. I had to keep going. My body was exhausted and I knew that if I didn’t push Alice out in the next minute I couldn’t go on. I was facing away from the rest of the room so I didn’t know what was happening behind me. With the nurse’s and Aimee’s approval I kept pushing and suddenly I felt Alice slide out. It was the most incredible feeling I have ever experienced. In the next few seconds a crowd of people flooded into the room and things got a little interesting.

What I could not see was that Alice was born without my membranes rupturing. My water never broke. Immediately after she was born there was a scary silence and lots of rushing about. Alice was suctioned and soon after she gave a loud cry. My heart finally started beating again.

They laid Alice on my chest and I tucked her inside my nightgown. It is a feeling I will carry with me the rest of my life. The way she looked in the seconds after she was born is forever in my mind. I felt high in the best way possible. I had experienced every single second of her journey into this world. I felt as though I couldn’t even concentrate on what people were saying to me. The world was spinning around us and I was completely lost in this little person in my arms. Aimee’s guidance during Alice’s birth was an invaluable gift. Her presence gave us the calm encouragement we needed to get through the most difficult moments. Looking back on the overall experience I know that the education and support she provided allowed us to have the birth we had hoped for. She was a constant source of emotional strength and humor when we needed it. I’m not sure I could have gotten through my labor as well as I did without her by my side.

My second baby, another fast birth!

Elias Hawk was born on September 9, 2013 at 10:20pm. He was 8 pounds, 5 oz. and 20 inches long. Here is the story of his birth day:

I was surprised how much my mood changed after I crossed the line past 41 weeks pregnant. Friday, I still felt bright and confident that things would continue to go well until Hawk decided to join us earthside, but as Saturday (officially one week post-dates) rolled by and there were still no signs of impending labor, I began to lose confidence quickly. Waking up Sunday morning at 41 weeks plus one day gestation, I began to question my ability to go into labor on my own. I was so discouraged.

To his credit, my sweet doctor never uttered the word "induction" to me. So many are quick to schedule medical procedures once a mama approaches post-dates pregnancy, but my doc remained encouraging and supportive of my low-intervention birth plan. Still, my next appointment was scheduled on Tuesday afternoon, and I knew we wouldn't be able to avoid the topic this time.

Sunday evening, the boys and I curled up on the couch to watch a movie together. Every few minutes, I'd slide my bottom off the edge of the couch and allow myself to dangle in a squat, supported by my arms. I wiggled my hips, trying to help Hawk engage his head into my pelvis. I could tell he was still not in the right position to be born. I felt his head grinding on my pelvic bone once again, and suddenly I knew. He was trying to come down, but couldn't get his head past my pelvis. Remembering the day big brother Seth was born, I recalled vividly how my oldest son had been lodged behind my pelvic bone and I spent nearly four excruciating hours trying to push him around it. I remembered how bruised the top of Seth's head was when he finally emerged, and how I felt as if I'd been hit by a train for weeks after. I never told anyone how traumatizing his birth had been until early into my second pregnancy, because I had so much pride wrapped up in having "accomplished" the goal of having a natural birth the first time.

I decided then that, if I woke up pregnant one more day, I'd immediately call a chiropractor. I'd never been to a chiropractor before, and I have a fear of new experiences. I resolved that I was more afraid of having another traumatic birth, and swallowed my pride. Monday morning, I called the chiro that Aimee, my doula,  had recommended and scheduled an appointment for that afternoon. I knew it was possible the adjustment would put me in labor, and I was nervous. Eric stayed home from work Monday, and he took me to the chiropractor appointment. Afterward, we took Seth out for popsicles and an afternoon at the park. By the time dinner rolled around, I felt virtually the same, although as if a ton of weight had been removed from my lower back and hips. I still wasn't having contractions. Eric said he planned to go back to work Tuesday morning, and I felt deflated.

During the seven o'clock hour, I texted back and forth for a while with Aimee.  I confessed how scared I was of the prospect of going into labor alone the next day while Eric was at work, and she encouraged me to trust God's perfect timing. At eight o'clock, I sent an encouraging text to a friend from church who was scheduled for a 7 AM cesarean the next morning, feeling happy for her but anxious for myself. I headed to bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt tears well up in my eyes. But then, I felt God say to my heart: "I will never leave you or forsake you." 
"Thank You, Lord," I responded.

I dozed off, but after a while, a strong pain in my pelvis woke me up. It eased, and I rolled back into my pillow to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, I felt another pain. "Eric?" I called tentatively into the next room, afraid to say anything about the pain and then have it go away.

Eric came to the bedroom and I told him I'd had pains. "What time is it?" I asked him.

"9:05," he said. "Should we call someone?"

"I don't know." I hesitated. What if I called someone to come get Seth and the pain disappeared? That would be so embarrassing and frustrating. "No, not yet. Wait. Yes. Yes, let's go ahead and call someone."

Right after calling Eric's mom to come pick up Seth, I got another pain. It had been five minutes since the last. I knew I'd made the right decision immediately, and began to gather my things. Eric started to get Seth ready to go, and Seth was crying that he was scared to go without us. I felt so bad, but I couldn't dwell on it and I headed for the car with my purse and a water bottle. Eric brought a blanket from the bed out and laid it across our backseat, and he took Seth's car seat out to move into his mom's car. Seth came outside, and I heard him say, "I'm not really scared anymore. Just a little scared, but I'm ok." I was so proud of him. Right then, Eric's mom pulled into the driveway: it had been about fifteen minutes and I'd had at least two more contractions.

Through this, I'm texting back and forth with my sister and my doula. I fired off texts to everyone who'd asked to be notified when I was in labor so they could pray for me. I am amazed now that I had the presence of mind to follow through, because I had lost reasoning ability altogether almost as soon as labor began the day Seth was born. His birth had been relentless, and I felt so out of control. This time, I was totally lucid.

I crawled into the backseat on my hands and knees, and Eric started the car. The song "10,000 Reasons" by Matt Redman was on the radio, and I began to sing along with it right as another contraction began. As we pulled out onto the main highway, the song ended and a voice on the radio read a passage from Psalms:

From the ends of the earth I call to You,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge... (Psalm 61:2-3)

I leaned into the armrest on the car door and made that my prayer. With every contraction, I prayed and asked God to take me outside the pain: I imagined myself flying over it like an eagle. In between contractions, I continued to communicate with people by text: a friend from church, my sister, my doula (who was waiting for her husband to return home to be with their kids before she could leave to meet us). I kept an eye on the clock at the top of my phone display, and I noticed the pains we coming closer: now four minutes apart. I looked up for a landmark reference and eyed the back of a retail store moving quickly past on the side of the interstate. I asked Eric where we were, and he told me: we were about halfway there.

Closer: three minutes apart. I looked up for another reference, and texted my doula again: 3 min apart ... passing Hwy 119.

I'm not far behind you, she responded.

Right as we pulled around the curve of our exit ramp, I braced myself against the toughest contraction yet. Immediately, I thought: I'm in the transition stage. Transition is the point where most women lose any composure they have remaining. It can feel like you're losing your mind. I was amazed that I was able to process the thought and identify my body's progress. Almost there.

I had about three contractions like that before I felt the car ascending the ramp into the parking deck at the hospital, and then another contraction with the definite urge to push came. "I can't walk," I told Eric.

He hurriedly chose a handicapped space and left to go alert someone of our arrival. I climbed out of the car: as soon as I stood up, my body began bearing down and I peed all over myself. I felt Hawk's head move into the birth canal: a sensation I'd never been able to identify during Seth's birth, which had felt more like my whole lower half was being ripped apart with no distinguishable progress.

I had two pushing contractions standing there beside the car, and became convinced I was going to have a parking lot baby. Then, Eric returned with a nurse and a wheelchair. I panicked. I couldn't imagine sitting in a wheelchair in this state. At that moment, Aimee arrived. For the life of me, I don't know what she said to me but I calmed down enough to get in the chair and off we went.

A beautiful woman in scrubs was walking through the parking deck at the same time and joined us in the elevator. I only caught bits of what was said between her and the nurse, but I registered the phrase arrived just in time and thought they were just talking about me. I didn't realize then that the woman was the on-call OB, who'd arrived the same time we did!

When we arrived on the L&D floor, the nurse said, "We're going to room 12." I looked over my shoulder at the room numbers passing by: 15... 14... 13... Finally.

We got in the room, and the nurse asked me to undress and put on a gown. Somehow, I was able to comply in enough time to climb on the bed on hands and knees for the next contraction. The nurses were swarming, someone asked me to lay down. I shook my head no, and my doula asked them if I could stay like that since I was more comfortable that way. Then I looked up and saw the beautiful woman from the elevator in the room, and someone said, "Sarah, this is Dr. H------," and she said, "We already met in the elevator."

Eric's behind me, saying, "You're doing so good. He's almost here! We're almost done."

My doula was in front of me, whispering "You're safe. So close."

Someone says, "Sarah, lets turn over, and with the next contraction you can get him out."

I mustered the will to move and turned over, and that's when I felt the so-called "ring of fire": another sensation I'd skipped altogether the first time around. It was scary, but I knew then they were right and I was about to meet my baby!

With the next contraction, I pushed twice, and the ring of fire worsened but his head still wasn't out. I took a deep breath and committed to push one more time even though I didn't think I could: and there was his head. One more contraction, and his whole body emerged into the nice doctor's hands, and she placed him right on my chest. I was ecstatic!

He was perfect, clean, calm and blazing hot! I held his warmth next to me and couldn't stop smiling (even though I was still in pain!).

After a few minutes, the doctor looked at the cord and decided it was done pulsing and put a clamp on it. She turned to Eric and asked him if he wanted to cut the cord: of course he did! Someone asked me then if it was ok for them to take him or if I wanted to hold him a while longer. I agreed to let them take him to measure his vitals while I delivered the placenta.

I needed a few stitches: the doctor told me Hawk had his hand up next to his face when he emerged. She was very gentle and I barely felt a thing while she stitched me up.

My doula stuck around for quite a while, until I was relatively comfortable and Hawk was returned to me. She went to our car and retrieved my camera bag for us: I fixed the settings on the camera and handed it to her so she could snap some pictures of us with our youngest son. I was so grateful for her presence.

Start to finish, my labor only lasted one hour and twenty minutes. I am in awe: totally unable to believe I was able to accomplish such a monumental feat in such a short time.

The moment I met our youngest son, I knew our family was complete.