James' Birth Story
Now that it has been a few weeks, I have had a chance to digest what happened with James’ birth. Never in a million years did I think something like this would happen to me. I’m not sure if having two relatively easy vaginal births made me a little too confident, or if I just lost touch with the fact that nothing can be planned, but boy did we have a different experience than I envisioned. I was so focused on getting baby here healthy with Covid-19 that I didn’t even think about other potential complications. It is my hope that by telling our story I can convince you why it’s so important to deliver at a hospital or birthing center. If we had not been there our sweet baby probably wouldn’t have made it.
At 38 weeks I had a growth ultrasound due to baby measuring a little bit on the bigger side compared to both of my other girls. Everything looked good, baby was in the correct position, and I was set to be induced at 39 weeks and 4 days. For me, I love being induced, and I know everyone has different opinions on that. It worked beautifully with both of my other births, so my doctor and I planned to do the same with this baby. The next day, I had to go to the hospital because I was having pretty severe contractions and was vomiting. I figured it was my third baby, and I was probably in labor early. Turns out that I was pretty dehydrated. I got some IV fluids and medication for the nausea and was sent home. I’m not going to lie, I was so done at that point that I was praying it was time.
A week and a half went by, and I was miserable every day, as most other moms are at that point in pregnancy. My induction date finally rolled around, and I went to the hospital at 3cm dilated. My nurses said that if I wasn’t scheduled that night I would have probably been in the next day. With the other babies I wasn’t even a full cm when I went in to be induced. I really thought this one was going to be quick! My body really knows what to do when I hit 6cm, and previously I went to 10cm within minutes. We went in at 8pm, and when they checked me around 9pm and told me that I was already a 3, I was super confident I would have the baby overnight.
They started me on a low dose of pitocin, and the nurse said they were going to move really slowly. By 3am my contractions were really strong, and she checked me, and I was at 5-6cm dilated. I decided to get my epidural at that point. All went well, and once my epidural was in, I was much more comfortable, and my nurse decided to check me again. This is where things started to get scary. I told her I thought my water broke or that I was leaking. When she checked me she looked at me with panic and said, “I feel a cord, we’re going to have to do a c-section.” What felt like the entire floor of staff rushed in, and when everyone was in there, my nurse said she no longer felt it. The floor doctor checked to be safe, and confirmed that it was a false alarm. They said it could have been the cord that the baby moved out of the way, or it could have been something else. Either way, I couldn’t have been more relieved.
About 30 minutes later, right when I got comfortable, everyone rushed in to move me around. They let me know baby’s heart rate was in deceleration. When they moved me, baby was happier so we figured it was just my position. They had turned off my pitocin, and my epidural was at the lowest setting to make sure it wasn’t the baby’s reaction to the medicine. They left it off for about 2 hours and at 6:30am turned everything back on. Once I started having big contractions again the same thing happened. The nurses came in, moved me, and everything stabilized. I remember looking at my sweet nurse before her shift change and asking her to level with me and tell me what the odds of needing a c-section were. She said “50/50.” I didn’t like her response, but hey, 50% chance I didn’t need one either. I’m not sure what my fear of a c-section was, but it was there, and it was real.
My heart rate and blood pressure were always on the low side, and they decided not to check my cervix again until my doctor came in on her lunch break. I changed position, was sitting up more, and baby seemed happy in that position. Again, I was thinking and hoping for the best at this point. At about 12:15pm my doctor came in to check me and see what was going on. The last time my nurses checked they said I was about an 8 so I was really hoping it was go time. Something felt different this time. I told my nurse that I didn’t feel the baby dropping like I had in the past. It’s a pretty distinct feeling in case you haven’t had a baby vaginally before, and I just knew baby wasn’t moving into the right position. My doctor arrived, put on her gloves and said, “Let’s see what’s going on." Maybe my body was just used to delivering babies, and I wasn’t going to feel baby drop as much this time. Who knows. I was excited and ready to start pushing.
In a matter of seconds my doctor pushed the alarm. “I feel the baby’s cord,” she said. WHAT? I was so confused. I thought we avoided this situation. She looked at me very calmly and said that we needed to do a c-section and get the baby out immediately. She has delivered all of my babies, so I knew the fear in her eyes even though she was remaining super professional and even-keeled. As everyone started to rush in and unplug me from all of the monitors, I remember looking at Rob and only being able to say one thing: “Fuck!” I could hear the nurses becoming increasingly concerned with every second saying baby’s heart rate kept going down and that we needed to move now. The floor doctor now had her entire arm inside of me and was holding the baby off the cord. They explained to me briefly as the nurses were preparing to move me that I had a prolapsed cord and it was coming out before the baby. With every contraction, baby was pushing against it. A cord prolapse occurs when the umbilical cord (the baby's lifeline) slips through the cervix and into the birth canal. Cord prolapse is not that common, occurring in about one out of every 620 births. The baby had actually retracted and gone back up high, almost as if she knew she was hurting herself when she would slide down into the birth canal against the cord. Impossible, I know, but pretty amazing.
Rush turned into panic, and they started wheeling me away from Robbie so quickly that the power cords to the bed were still plugged into the wall. The doctor was on the bed with me, and I just remember feeling like I was on a rollercoaster ride we were moving so fast. At this point I started crying. I’m usually a strong person, but when I realized my baby’s life could be in jeopardy, that all changed.
Once we got to the OR I looked up and said a quick prayer before I started to take in what was going on around me. Tools seemed to be flying, clanking everywhere, and the drape they put up was folded down over my face because they were moving so quickly. The anesthesiologists were so sweet asking if we had names, trying to distract me from what was going on. All I could do was look for Rob who was nowhere to be found. My doctor said she needed to open me up now, and my anesthesiologist replied that he wasn’t done with what he had to do. I could feel them start to cut, and by the time they got done with the incision the stinging feeling faded to a pulling. I think I blacked out at this point, because the next thing I remember was Rob walking in with the floor pediatrician and my OB saying, “Baby is out, baby is out!” I learned later that they got the baby out in 4 minutes from the time I was wheeled in the operating room.
I didn’t even know that they had gotten the baby out, and I turned my head to see if I could see anything going on. All I saw was a group of people surrounding the baby. I looked at Rob and said, “I don’t hear the baby, why isn’t it crying?” He said everything was fine and started asking without response whether baby was ok. I’m not sure how long this lasted, it seemed like 10 minutes but was probably just a short time. I never asked. That was the worst few minutes of my life. All of the negative outcomes started running through my head. Then, we heard everyone start cheering. I looked up again and thought, “Thank you God!” They got baby to start breathing on her own.
After a few minutes when I knew baby was ok, I remember asking what the baby’s gender was. This was the only time we were surprised and this certainly wasn’t the way I envisioned finding out. My doctor yelled to the nurses to ask and they responded, “It’s a girl!” I don’t even think at that point I fully took in the news, I just wanted to see my baby and make sure she was healthy. It turns out that Robbie was accidentally recording so we have that moment on camera. I’m so lucky that he took some video footage after things calmed down so I can see those special moments that I didn’t get to see in person. It hurts my heart to see her on the table with the oxygen, but makes me that much more thankful for all of the hospital staff. They are my angels.
After Rob brought her to me and I was able to see her, they took her to the nursery to run some tests. Once we got back to our room they brought her in about an hour later, and I was able to feed her with a lot of help from the nurse. They also let us know that the tests all looked good, and she didn’t need to go to the NICU. I remember taking a breath and thinking everything was going to be ok. There is no greater feeling than holding your child for the first time, and this time it was even more special. What if I hadn’t been at the hospital? What if I decided to labor at home until I was further along? What if I delivered last week at 38 weeks, would this have still happened? The questions ran through my head and everything faded when I looked at my sweet James. Nothing else in the world mattered. This was her birth story. An imperfect one and not at all like I imagined, but it was hers.
I hope this finds you if you are on the fence about delivering your baby at home. Although I didn’t strongly consider that option, it did cross my mind with all of the 2020 Covid fear. I remember asking my doctor around 20 weeks what she thought and her telling me I was crazy. That was the end of that idea for me as I trust her wholeheartedly. Now I know what she meant. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and we are lucky enough to live in a country where we have the freedom to choose what we want. I just wanted to share my story to let you know what could happen. You cannot control your birth, and even after two easy vaginal deliveries, anything can go wrong. If we had not been in the hospital, our outcome would have been way different. I’ll thank God every single day for this sweet girl of mine and for the staff at St. Luke’s Hospital who helped bring her into the world safely. I feel so blessed to have her healthy and here in my arms as I write this.
I hope you enjoy this video that I made for James. ️