Obi's Birth Story

This story isn’t quite the one I thought I would be writing.  But it is one I am proud of and thankful for, despite the imperfections.

Early on in our pregnancy they discovered a slight abnormality with my placenta – a condition called circumvallate placenta.  I won’t even try to explain it as I don’t fully understand it myself.  I know it’s a pretty rare condition and most of the time it goes undiagnosed.  But basically it put me at a slightly higher risk for things such as impeded fetal growth, placental abruption, other similar issues, and, worst case, still birth (most often when the condition goes monitored).  We met with a specialist in Pittsburgh who wasn’t concerned at all, put our minds at ease, and told us she figured we would have a very normal pregnancy and she wouldn’t need to see us again.  To be on the safe side, she recommended having a growth scan at our usual office every 4 weeks.  Which was fine with me – just more opportunities to see our little Peanut!

So we diligently went to the scans every 4 weeks and everything was going great.  After an odd growth jump at 36 weeks, they decided to schedule me for one additional scan at 39 weeks, just to check on things if he hadn’t arrived yet.

38 weeks – I’m 3cm dilated.  I left the office relatively anxious – I was 2cm when I checked into the hospital with our first and she was here 6 hours later (her birth story is here).  I was relatively sure I wouldn’t even make it to our 39 week appointment.  Contractions came off and on for the next week, but no active labor, no trips to the hospital, no baby yet.

So I head into our 39 week appointment anxious to see if things had progressed any further.  I went for my scan first and then I was called back to see the midwife, as usual.  As she comes in she asks, “Are you ready to have this baby?”  “Yes!”  I mean, of course.  What woman at 39 weeks is going to say no to that question?!?  But she stops and looks at me, “No, I mean, are you ready to have this baby tomorrow?  Because he needs to come.”

According to our scans, his growth wasn’t looking so great.  His belly hadn’t grown at all in 3 weeks.  And his growth was a bit asymmetrical – the belly in the 20^th percentile with his head in the 80^th.  While it wasn’t extremely urgent, they decided it would be better for him to be out than in so we could be sure he was getting proper nutrition.

I was heartbroken.  Induction was not a part of the plan.  Our birth plan is all natural.  No drugs.  No intervention.  Aelah’s birth had been such a beautiful experience.  And we had picked a different hospital that was more natural-friendly this time around.  So I had high hopes.  But I knew induction made things a bit more difficult.  Pitocin = more pain.  And that it also put us at a higher risk for intervention.  But, ready or not, it was time.

We went in the next morning ready for anything.  I was willing to discuss pain meds, but only if it got bad enough.  I was prepared for a very long day.  Pitocin started a little before 7am.  Shortly after, they broke my water.  It was a slow start.  I walked the halls for awhile, sat on a birthing ball, rocked – the contractions were getting stronger and closer together.  They actually didn’t have to increase the Pitocin as much because things were progressing pretty quickly. 

The first time they came back to check my progress, a nurse relatively new to the maternity wing checked me – “oh! I think she’s at 9cm,” I was ecstatic…until my midwife rechecked – only 4-5.  Oye.  Only half way.  But it started to get pretty intense from that point forward. 

I started to hyperventilate because of the pain.  I wasn’t breathing quite right.  Shallow breaths and using my lungs instead of my diaphragm (something that also happened with my daughter…but at the pushing stage).  My hands went tingly and then tensed to the point that I couldn’t move them.  It was really distracting and I couldn’t focus on getting through each contraction, making it all worse.  At this point, I had a moment of panic and kept telling my husband and my mom that I couldn’t do it.  I was going to need those drugs!  But, the good coaches they were, they kept telling me that I could, that I was almost there – the whole time, helping me refocus on my breathing and rubbing my hands and back.  I switched positions in this process and eventually got a hold on my breathing and started to feel my hands again.  That made dealing with the pain a WHOLE lot easier!

As push time came closer, they did end up having to give me oxygen – but that also helped my breathing, which helped the pain.  In this transition one of the nurses offered me Statol a few times to help me relax.  I wasn’t sure what to do, so I kept saying no.  But I knew if they checked me again and I wasn’t much further, something was going to be necessary.

They left us alone for awhile and a contraction hit so hard and so sudden, I knew something was different.  I should have had the nurse come check right then.  But I waited through a couple more horrid push contractions before I told them I knew it was time.  They checked and I was given the clear.  Of course, at that point, I had to wait for the doctor to show.  Our midwife had been in at one point, so I asked if she was going to be coming – but she was over at the office, which is right across the street.  They told me they could get her.  But I knew the doctor was already there.  There was NO way I was going to wait with everything in my body telling me to push.  There is no pain like the pain of keeping your body from doing what it wants to do in that moment.  I was writhing as we waited for the doc – literally lifting myself off the bed with each contraction.  I think it was actually only 3 contractions before I was able to push – but it felt like eternity.

I never opened my eyes through that whole process.  I heard the doctor tell me I could push.  And I did.  While screaming.  Twice.  Not very productive.  I got out of my head, focused on breathing correctly, and the next few pushes were much better.  I still can’t figure it out, my midwife thinks it may be how his head presented – but the pain of pushing was three times as bad as it was with my daughter.  I hadn’t wanted an episiotomy (had one with my daughter, 3^rd degree) but I was about to tell the doctor to just cut me if she needed to when she told me she was going to. 

When I had Aelah, she came head, shoulders, knees, and toes – all at once.  The relief from that push was incredible.  And I felt that same relief with the next push.  I was done, he was here!  Except I wasn’t.  It was only his head.  And, again, what felt like eternity, but was only one or two pushes later, he was on my belly.  He was here now!!  I could breathe again, it was all over.  And in that moment, almost all of that morning had already been forgotten. 

There was meconium present when they broke my water, so they had to take him pretty directly (he stayed in the same room).  I got my few stitches while they looked him over.  It was a process.  I was trying to focus on him, but I was still in a lot of pain and trying to reorient myself after the whole experience.  Before I knew it, he was back in my arms. 

The hospital we were at encourages “the Golden Hour” of skin to skin AND a good first latch in that time – so he was all mine for a whole hour.  Within minutes of getting him back, he started trying to eat his hands.  It took me a moment to realize he was hungry – he latched right away!  Nursed twice in that first uninterrupted hour.

It was beautiful.   He was born at 11am, which meant labor was just barely over 4 hours.  Absolutely incredible when you stop to think about it.  It wasn’t the “perfect” experience.  But it is ours.  And I will treasure it forever. 

But given the choice, I definitely would not opt for an induction again.  😉  And I have mad respect for all of you who have suffered with Pitocin for an entire day…or more.