****WARNING****To my male readers, this blog is about the birth of my children, I am going to be candid about it and wanted to warn you before reading further. There, you've been warned....:)
I have two kids, two beautiful little boys who mean the world to me. My boys have many similarities, many differences, both are unique. They also have very different birth stories, VERY different, the only similarities being that they were born and they were boys. Somedays I wonder if the way they came into this world played a role in their different personalities... Before I begin, let me make it VERY clear that I know that everyone's story is unique, I have no agenda to push but my experiences have given me a passion for the subject and I love to share what I have learned. I make no judgments on people's choices when it comes to giving birth.
Ok, that's out of the way. Let me start with my "unnatural" birth; from the beginning my doctor had my due date off by about 2 weeks. I tell you this because it plays a big role in how the rest of this story plays out. How did this happen? My periods were a bit haywire when I conceived and my doctor opted to go with my "period" due date, not the ones indicated by both early ultrasounds. Turns out the ultrasounds were spot on, I know this by comparing my "12 wk"ultrasound with a friends 12 wk one, Isaiah was OBVIOUSLY underdeveloped. You probably know that babies grow at pretty much the same rate up until 12 weeks so ultrasounds up to that point are pretty darn accurate. Should I have known this? Probably, but I did not educate myself properly with my first son, I was afraid of being afraid. Silly as it sounds, I had heard that those pregnancy books were full of all the things that could go wrong & the last thing I needed, being a person who struggles with fear, was "fuel for the fire". So, I didn't read a single book throughout my pregnancy, not a one.
Eventually the time came to deliver, 39 weeks...40 weeks...41 weeks (or so I thought). My body was doing nothing, I was getting impatient and tired. Finally at my 41 week appointment my doctor decided we should do another ultrasound to check on my little man. She determined that, although I had plenty of fluid, my placenta was "cooked" and told me we should induce that day. Off we went to the hospital...where we sat around for HOURS and HOURS waiting for my induction, apparently having an appointment doesn't actually mean you are going to be seen. Finally at 6 p.m. a nurse came in to give me Cytotec, these are essentially prostaglandin pills they insert into your vagina to cause your cervix to thin/dilate. At this point I was not dilated at all and barely effaced. I vaguely remember the nurse saying something about a side effect being hyper-activation of the uterus, which means my uterus would contract continually but have no effect on my cervix, but I paid little attention to it, thinking side effects rarely actually happen. I would learn that was a mistake on my part, by 5 am (3 hours after a second pill) it was obvious this is exactly what was happening with me. I hadn't budged an inch, or centimeter as the case was in nearly 12 hours. I was up all night with contractions that served no purpose, other than to keep me up. I was told to "get some rest", difficult to do as my uterus was still plugging right along, apparently unaware that it was working itself for nothing.
At 8 a.m. an IV was inserted into my arm and I was started on pitocin. Oh pitocin! Those of you who have had it, well... you know what I mean, those of you who haven't- I can attest to the fact that it makes your contractions worse then naturally occurring ones. Hours went by, still my body refused to respond, they upped the dosage, I walked and walked...by 3 in the afternoon I think I was maybe a 3, still only partially effaced. My doctor then decided to pop my water in the hopes it would speed things along. By this point I was exhausted, I had been up since 7 a.m the day before with very little napping in between. I was ready to hold my little boy, beyond ready. Hours passed, my contractions became harder to cope with, I am not sure if they were actually more painful or I was just loosing it from lack of sleep. At some point my IV had to be moved because it had started to balloon out, my arm looking clownish. Finally, at 8 p.m. all my determination to have a "natural" birth flew out the window; I was in pain, I was exhausted and I wanted drugs. My doctor gave me some statol, I was still only dilated to 5 or so and they were afraid an epidural would slow things down even more, if that was possible. I have never done drugs, only been drunk a few times in my life and for that one hour the statol did it's job, I was hilarious. I don't think anyone has ever laughed so much during labor as I did in that hour, unfortunately it didn't last long and before I knew it the contractions were back- OUCH! When I reached 6, around 10 p.m., the nurse came in to give me an epidural. This is the only time in my whole ordeal when my husband had to walk out, he couldn't handle the giant needle in my back or the scary moment when they realized they hit a vein not my spinal cord and my blood pressure plummeted. Once they were finished though, ahhh sweet relief. Relief, but no sleep came, at least not much to speak of. By this point I was so anxious to have the whole ordeal over, falling asleep was not an option. Several hours after my epidural was administered I was still not to 10 cm, it was about 2 am and my doctor decided that since we had popped my water I should start pushing. I am not sure why she decided this in hindsight as it had only been 12 hours since she broke my water, and know I know that it is at the 24 hour mark that they get concerned, either way, I started pushing at 9 cm. I would learn later, after the birth of my second child, that this was a big mistake.
Apparently my cervix doesn't fully dilate, leaving a "lip" that has to be worked aroundto get my kids heads out, making pushing at 10 a bit more difficult, let alone 9. I pushed for 2.5 hours, I was beyond exhausted and panic that I would never get him out set in after the first 2 hours. My doctor had to use suction, she had to give me an episiotomy, we backed off the epidural so I could better feel my contractions, at one point we prayed- Isaiah's heart rate was dropping. I could tell that my doctor was starting to panic, I caught glimpses between her and the nurse. Thankfully, I had a room full of awesome, supportive women because they are what kept me from completely loosing it. My husband was wonderful too, silently standing by, giving me what I needed & praying. Finally, finally he arrived, bluer than you can imagine and limp as a wet noodle. I was too relieved to see him to notice he didn't look like most newborns did, my mom & husband were scared...but in moments he was screaming at the top of his voice and rapidly turning pink. I was quickly handed my baby, who promptly peed all over me, little stinker. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen! Amazing how you can love someone so much in the blink of an eye. He was 8 lbs 7 oz and 20.75 inches long, perfect!
All told I had been up for 46 hours when I held my baby, I had over 30 stitches (you know where), my abdominal muscles were jelly & my legs were swollen from the pitocin, but he was here, he was healthy & that was all that mattered. It took me a long time to recover, I couldn't walk upright for 2 days thanks to 35 hours of contractions, it felt like I had no stomach muscles. My body just wasn't ready, the entire ordeal was a battle all the way, trying to force it to do what it knew it should not. Isaiah suffered for it too, severe jaundice because of the bruising on his head (from the suction), kept us in the hospital for almost a week. Oh, & for my "cooked placenta", my doctor took one look at it saying "oh, I guess it had a few weeks". I don't blame my doctor, mistakes were absolutely made, but mine is not the first story like it. Induction often leads to long, exhausting labors. I blame myself more, had I read a book or two maybe I would have had the knowledge I needed to object here & there...maybe if I had listened to my body more...maybe. So many "what ifs" and nothing I can do about them now. Don't misunderstand me, I am SO thankful that he was ok in the end, I know I am a lucky woman. I guess I feel the saddest for him, I know he doesn't remember, but what a traumatic entry into the world! Sometimes when he is being overly melodramatic I wonder if some of the trauma at birth contributed to his somewhat spastic personality. I am being silly I know, but still... somedays...
Whew! Sorry, didn't mean for that to be so long. This next one will not be, for a million reasons,the simplest being my labor wasn't nearly as long. When I became pregnant with Joshua I decided to go a completely different route. I had recently had the honor of being in the room when my cousin delivered her beautiful little girl at a local midwifery and was so amazed by the calm in the room. I talked to David about it, he was nervous about natural birth, not because he doubted me or my abilities but because Isaiah could easily have died during his delivery. He was afraid of not being in a hospital for that reason but after meeting with the midwives he was at ease and told me to do whatever it was I was most comfortable with. So I began my prenatal care with the midwives. I cannot even begin to convey the absolute difference in the level of care I received from the start. My appointments were never less than 3 mins, I never felt rushed, they never rolled their eyes at questions I asked- silly ones I probably should have known since it was my second pregnancy. Given my history we had an early ultrasound to establish my due date, which was exactly the same as my cycle due date.
My pregnancy flew by this time around, having a toddler in the house will do that. Before I knew it 40 weeks was approaching!! I had braxton hicks contractions throughout my pregnancy and by 39 weeks they were really starting to hurt. Late in the evening of May 7th they began to come consistently, accompanied with some bad back pain- ugh. At 1 in the morning David and I went to the midwifery, only to learn I was dilated to a one...ONE! I will be honest, I lost it. Complete emotional breakdown, my mind flashed back to the cytotec & contractions going
nowhere. I thought to myself "seriously? ONE? If you can't handle this you are totally hosed!". I sent my mom home & my hubby to bed, sitting up in a chair all night. In hind sight, the contractions weren't so bad, if not for the back pain they caused. The next morning I left David to sleep (he had been working A LOT & was exhausted) while Isaiah & I went to my moms. The contractions continued to increase in intensity & at 10 a.m. I called the MW again & they told me to come in. When she checked me she said "You were 1 last night? Well you're 6 now, time
to move upstairs". I was ecstatic! My mom went to wake my hubby, who wasn't answering his phone, & I went up to a birthing room.
Most of the next four hours is a blur, the pain was there- it hurt, I'm not gonna lie. My sweet baby was making it worse because he wouldn't engage his head properly, causing the back pain. That is what I remember the most, the back pain- it felt like someone was inside my pelvis using a sledgehammer to try & beat their way out of my back. It was awful & yet there was such a peace in the room, my body responded to the
pain in the way it was meant to. Things progressed pretty quickly & I was at 10 by 2 p.m. thank goodness :). This is the moment I was totally amazed with this body of mine, it just knew when to start pushing. I didn't think about it, my body began to push all on it's own. At one point I was asked to stop pushing for a moment because his shoulder was caught, bad news if it goes awry- never once was I aware that anything was wrong, it was nearly impossible. After about 30 seconds I started pushing against my will, fortunately the problem was solved. It took 1/2 hour to push him out, mostly because his head was turned so he could suck his hand & there he was! So beautiful, so big! He weighed 9 lbs 13 0z & was 22 inches long, making him nearly 1.5 pounds heavier than his brother & 1.5 inches longer. I couldn't not believe I was done, I was so relieved & felt SO good...well good for someone who had just given birth. I held my sweet "little" boy & within a 1/2 hour he was nursing contentedly.
When all was said & done the only damage was some stitches, my midwife said that because I had such a large episiotomy I would likely tear
with all my children. It was very different from the first time though, the pain didn't last as long because it was a superficial tear, not a cut through muscle. I was tired but elated. My midwives laughed as I chatted their ears off about the difference in how I felt, while they were stitching me up no less. Joshua arrived in this world under much different circumstances than his brother, I can't help but feel guilty sometimes. Again, I wonder if his "mellow birth" has played a part in his more mellow personality. Probably not, it is more likely that Isaiah is higher strung because his mommy is & Joshua is more mellow because his daddy it. Still, it's interesting that the way they came into this world somewhat mirrors their personalities....
My point in sharing is to encourage you to listen to your bodies, whatever you decide. Be sure to educate yourself, knowledge really is power. Never, ever be afraid to tell your doctor/midwife what it is you want out of your birth experience, some things are in your control. Most of all I say never underestimate yourself- ever, you are capable of great things.
My oldest son was just about born running. As an infant he didn't sleep like most babies, I cannot tell you how many times I thought to myself "Shouldn't he want to sleep more?!". At few months old it was evident that he didn't like to remain in one location for long, he didn't fuss to be held all the time but he sure liked a change of scenery every 30 mins. By six months he was army crawling everywhere, and I mean everywhere, and he never held still for long. It goes without saying that it was obvious from early on he was high strung. 
I don't tell you all of this to complain about my beautiful little man. All kids have quirks, those are just a few of his. The truth is, this same
