Before diving into my first birth story, I want to provide some context that will help to orient where I was in space in time during this momentous event in my life. In February 2020, we found out that I was pregnant with our first baby. I remember feeling so surprised because we had just started trying and also so nervous because holy shit, we were having a baby! It wasn’t even a week before we told my family and I started thinking about all things baby. I’m pretty sure I started a registry when I was like 6 weeks pregnant.. I couldn’t help myself! While I was so excited to prepare for our baby—looking for the cute baby clothes, researching the best baby products and gear, and planning out our nursery, I failed to do arguably one of the most important things—research and plan for my birth.
At this point in my life, I was more scrunchy (slightly crunchy?) than crunchy. I ate lots of organic whole foods and drank filtered water but I wasn’t afraid to run through a drive thru for a cheeseburger and fries… maybe even the occasional Dr. Pepper. That said, I knew I wanted to give it my best try at a natural birth. In my mind, it would be amazing to bring my baby into the world unmedicated and I wasn’t opposed to getting an epidural, not really knowing what an epidural was other than a medication that numbs your entire lower half of your body. Basically, I was going into my birth feeling very “flexible” and had a “go with the flow” attitude about it all, which at the time felt very healthy and realistic. Little did I know, that “flexible” and “go with the flow” are what make you susceptible to the pressures of doctors and nurses in the hospital at a time when you are the most vulnerable.
On October 22nd, 5 days past my “due date,” I remember getting ready for bed while my husband, Jeremy was already laying down. I felt a cramping sensation, similar to period cramps which I was all too familiar with after have years of horrible menstrual cramps, that sent me to the floor in a crouched down position. Pulling my knees to my chest was the only position that I could find some relief. I wasn’t sure what this was, as I had never been in labor before, so I gave it a minute or two as I lay on the ground. Then again, same sensation came over me and it kept me down. While I didn’t know exactly what was going on, I think a part of me knew this was the beginning of labor but I felt confused because I wasn’t expecting it to feel this way. My anxiety started to rev up and I knew I wouldn’t be able to lay in bed, I went downstairs to lay on the couch and watch TV. I figured I’d ride it out and then try to get some sleep but didn’t want to keep up my husband. I should probably mention that I had lost my mucus plug that evening around dinner time. I had no idea what it was, so did some quick Googling and realized quickly that it was indeed my mucous plug and I knew labor was imminent.
As I lay on the couch, I realized quick that this wasn’t going to be the best position to ride these waves, so I decided to sit on a yoga ball and bounce while watching a Disney movie—I don’t even remember what I put on at this point, but it was not working at keeping me distracted because these cramp-like sensations were pretty intense. I remember texting my two girlfriends and colleagues at the time asking them if this could be labor and both immediately responded YES. Even though I was 40+5 days pregnant, I think I was in denial. “No, I couldn’t be in labor, I’ve got plenty of time”… yeah right, total denial despite knowing in the back of my mind that it was indeed baby time! When I think back to this time, I don’t remember feeling excited, instead, I was so scared and anxious about what was to come. I know that a lot of this probably was due to the fact that I had never given birth before, and I also know that my lack of knowledge and understanding about the birth process definitely contributed to my fear.
It was happening whether I was ready or not, so I pulled out my phone and downloaded a contraction app to start timing them out. I will say this was not as straightforward as I thought it would be because at this time, my contractions were sporadic and didn’t always feel the same, so every time I would go to time it out, I was like “wait, is this a contraction? Is it over? Wait a minute, it’s intensifying again, so is that apart of the previous one?” Lots of questions and thoughts racing through my mind… first time giving birth is no walk in the park! Nonetheless, I kept timing them out the best I could so I could have a general idea of what was going on.
Around 2am, I was feeling things intensify, but the waves were irregular and spread apart. I decided to call the hospital and spoke to a nurse on duty. After explaining what was happening, she told me that it would probably be best to stay home at this point. I felt a sense of relief fall over me because this meant I had time… thank God! I tried to get some sleep at this point because I knew going into the hospital already exhausted would not be a good idea. However, my body and mind had other plans and I ended up pulling an all-nighter. When my husband came downstairs that morning around 6am to get ready for work, I told him that he probably should call off because I was in labor and the baby would likely be coming today. In hindsight, I can’t believe I made it through the whole night without telling him I was in labor… my denial was so REAL. So, he called off and sat with me on the couch because I was exhausted. At this point, I was able to rest my head on his shoulder and dose off. As I drifted off to sleep, I’d be awoken by each wave, the sensation had changed from feeling like cramps to being full blown contractions that were growing with intensity. I feel like I was almost used to it at this point or I was just so exhausted that I was able to continue to sleep through them. Around 10am, Jeremy and I decided to call my doctor’s office and let them know where we were at. They suggested we go in to the office to get checked out and then if I was indeed in active labor, they could send me over to the hospital which was right next door. This felt good to me, so that’s what we did.
Surprisingly, I didn’t feel panicked or anxious in this moment. The car ride was relatively calm and quick although I definitely had lots going on in my head for the entire 20 minute drive. I’m glad I thought to grab a quick snack on the way out because they don’t let you eat food in the hospital… annoying, I know. Because this was during Covid, I went by myself to meet with my doctor while Jeremy waited for me in the car. My original OB was not on call, so I had to been seen by a different doctor. Luckily enough, I had seen him before so it wasn’t a completely unfamiliar face that was going to be getting real close and personal during the most vulnerable moment of my life. He did a cervical check and told me that I was 5cm dilated. I was shocked to be that far along! In my head, I was halfway there and had this vision of things really picking up once we got to the hospital.
I got back to the car and updated Jeremy. He drove literally 30 seconds across the parking lot to the hospital side and we got checked in. It’s probably worth mentioning that this place was foreign to me. We had not done a hospital tour due to covid and I didn’t take the time or energy to book a virtual tour. If you’re reading this and haven’t had a baby yet, I do not recommend giving birth in a completely unfamiliar place among strangers. Nothing signals your body to stall more than entering a foreign place surrounded by unfamiliar people. We got settled into our room and I put on my hospital gown. I let the nurses know that I wanted to be able to continue to move/walk and they told me that would be fine but that I still needed to be hooked up to the fetal monitoring system. We quickly realized that these two things did not go hand in hand, and before I knew it, I was laying in bed, getting an IV, and having discussions with the nurse about an epidural. As we were chatting, the doctor comes in to check me yet again. This time, it was a male doctor on call who I had never seen before. I really started to feel anxious because I was uncomfortable with a complete stranger delivering my baby. Nonetheless, he did the check, confirmed I was 5cm and then said he could “feel my water bulging” as if it could break any minute. In this moment, I was convinced that breaking my waters would speed up the labor which sounded really nice right about now. “Is it going to get a lot more painful though?” I asked like a nervous little girl about to get her ears pierced. To which he responded, yes, most likely. I then agreed to the epidural and breaking my water. Ugh, if only I knew what I know now.
Around noon, the anesthesiologist came in and administered the epidural. The whole time I was asking a million questions and semi-panicking about the very large needle that was going to be inserted into my spine, meanwhile he’s telling me not to move as I’m having intense contractions… man, some breathing exercises really would have come in handy right about now. The epidural was painful and I was worried that something might be wrong, but it was done and I laid back in bed and the meds instantly started working. I could barely feel my contractions at this point, which admittedly, was a relief. In my mind, all I had to do know was lay back and relax and soon enough, this baby would be here. Clearly I was delusional to think I could just shut off my connection to my baby and he’d just mosey on down the birth canal and emerge effortlessly.
Several hours would go by without much progress. I was slowly continuing to dilate, but Bear was not coming down the birth canal. Every cervical check I had, the doctor would report further dilation but baby was still “stuck” in the same position. At this point, it was dark out and I had been laying down for a long time. The nurses suggested I move positions turning onto my other side and using the peanut ball. I did this for a couple more hours. Before I knew it, it was midnight and my baby still wasn’t here. I was feeling really discouraged and I could tell the doctor was wanting to move things along, after all, I had been there all day and was taking up a bed. I believe the nurses put a little bit of Pitocin in my IV around this time to see if it would push me past that threshold. Instead, my baby’s heartrate started slowing and the nurses were coming in to turn me over and move me to try to get the heartrate back up. We played this game for a couple hours, and when my OB came in to check me. I was at 9.5cm dilated and still baby wasn’t coming down the birth canal as he should. She also told me that there was meconium (baby’s first poop) present and this was cause for urgency. Then, she recommended something I never thought would even be a possibility for me—a cesarean section. In shock, I instantly started crying. I was exhausted and didn’t understand why this was happening to me. Never in a million years did I think I’d have a c-section and here we were being told that we need to consider it. She said we could try pushing some to see if it could get him to move, so we tried. At this point, I had no idea when a contraction was happening because I couldn’t feel anything which may have been a positive thing had my baby actually been coming down. But since I wasn’t progressing as I should have, or at the rate they wanted me to, this sucked. Nonetheless, the doctor instructed me on when to push and I gave three halfhearted pushes, not really knowing if I was doing it “right.” And nothing. He didn’t move at all.
I turned to Jeremy and started crying. A c-section was the last route I wanted to go and I was terrified because the doctor has made it seem like the only option and we didn’t have much time. Jeremy wanted to move forward with the c-section right away before it became an emergency, so that’s what we did. Jeremy scrubbed up and I was carted to an operating room where they transferred my limp body to an operating table. From there, the anesthesiologist further numbed my lower half until I couldn’t feel anything. I remember being really nervous and thinking “what if I’m not all the way numb and I feel it?!” The anesthesiologist used some sort of sharp object to “test” my numbness. He’d ask, “Can you feel this?” In which I’d respond, “I don’t think so,” genuinely terrified because a small scratch with a sharp object is much different than being cut open and pulling my baby out through a relatively small incision. Once I was all the way numbed, Jeremy was brought into the room where he sat on a chair next to my head. Soon after they began, I started to shake profusely, my whole body. This gave me further anxiety as they began to pull my baby out of my body. Luckily, this part wasn’t too bad. I felt nothing but a little tugging here and there which didn’t really bother me. It was the shaking that was really freaking me out. As soon as they got Bear out, they wrapped him up and handed him to Jeremy. I’m pretty sure this was his first time holding a baby. As tears of joy rolled down my cheek the moment I laid eyes on him, I was quickly halted back to reality when the anesthesiologist said, “Here, this will help with the shaking,” and injected God knows what into my shoulder. For the next several hours, the first hours of Bear’s life, I was in a daze. Whatever was in that shot did indeed help with the shaking, but at the expense of remembering my first moments with my son.
After my doctor put my organs back where they belonged and literally glued me together, Bear and I were wheeled back to my labor and delivery room. I remember I was feeling panicked, probably from the traumatic event that just ensued along with the drug cocktail I was on and told my nurse I didn’t want to go to a new room with new nurses. Although this experience was terrible, my labor and delivery nurses were wonderful and I really bonded with and trusted the nurse, Christina, who had been by my side for most of this crappy experience. So, she wheeled me back to my original room and took my vitals, giving me reassurance that I was indeed, okay. We got Bear on my chest immediately and he started breastfeeding like a champ—what a blessing! I told Christina I felt faint and that I was worried about my blood sugar (probably because I hadn’t eaten all day/night and was pumped with drugs for the majority of the day), so she grabbed a glucose monitor and pricked my finger. Again, my levels were normal and I was just fine. I was so grateful for her and her kindness in these moments of panic and anxiousness. She met me with grace and understanding and I could tell all she wanted was for me to feel comfortable and to be assured that I was okay and not dying, which I really thought was a possibility. Quick side note about this—I’m already an anxious person and have dealt with panic and anxiety for year prior to this. Much of what I experienced were classic anxiety symptoms for me, just heightened by the trauma and nature of what had just gone down. Not to mention, this all was during the pandemic where everyone was fear mongering, masks were rampant, and the last thing I wanted was to be in a hospital. Once I had calmed down, nursing was going smoothly, and I was finally able to just enjoy my sweet, healthy boy, I was moved to my postpartum room. Phew. We made it and my baby and I would be able to just snuggle and recover over the next few days… Ha! I wish. My postpartum care was far from what I would have hoped for. But that’s a story for another day!
I had a really hard time talking about Bear’s birth when it was all said and done. I was so traumatized and honestly in shock about how the whole thing went down. It was hard to discuss without getting emotional and so I avoided it at all costs. Now, writing it all out and trying to remember as much detail as possible, has felt so therapeutic. I can now share this without being completely triggered which is huge! Honestly, if I didn’t have this experience, I know I wouldn’t have made the changes I did in my life when it comes to health and wellness. My innate mama bear instincts may not have been completely turned on (x100). I probably wouldn't have become so passionate about doing my own research and receiving true informed consent when it came to all medical decisions. I wouldn't be the mama I am today.
So while looking at this picture can bring up some hard emotions-- sadness for this new mama who went through the ringer to bring her babe into the world (and it shows), anger for the doctors and nurses that did not provide me with true informed consent, resentment for myself for not being more prepared AND I feel immense pride in how I remained headstrong and fierce about how myself and my baby would be cared for in the hospital, compassion for my new mama self, so scared and anxious, yet so connected and in love with my baby, and grace for all of the new and life-changing experiences that come with becoming a mom.
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