So I had to go back and see how long it's been, to know where to
start this time. It has been 7 months. Wow. Who knows how long it will
be before I crack this thing open again, but I really wanted to make
sure our second child's birth was written about.
So, we
found out the second was a boy, as you may have already guessed. We
were really quite shocked, even though we didn't really have a
preference, turns out we thought we were having another girl more than
we realized.
This time around, I was induced at 39 weeks and 2 days. I've known since
Sophia's birth
and the complications with it, that I would not be going past due with
the second. My midwife told me that in the delivery room. I was also
advised to cut "white" carbs in the last trimester of this pregnancy to
avoid any unnecessary weight gain. Basically, Sophia almost didn't fit,
and so this time I needed to have a smaller baby. Which is tricky
because subsequent babies, and boy babies, tend to be bigger. But, I
managed to only gain about 5 pounds total my third trimester, so I did
good. And I didn't gain an unhealthy amount overall either (23 pounds).
At
35 weeks I had a full ultrasound to check health and guesstimate
weight. At that time he was running average, putting him on track to be
8.5 pounds at 40 weeks. At my second to last appointment, when we got
serious about setting a plan, I was actually offered a scheduled
cesarean. Apparently this is something they're required to counsel you
about, because mothers who have experienced a shoulder dystocia are at
higher risk for recurrence, and the only definitive way to avoid this is
to avoid a vaginal birth. I declined the offer, wanting to at least
give my body and baby a chance.
By 39 weeks even, I was
2cm dilated, and around 80% effaced, but still at -2 station (head was
not engaged in the pelvis aka baby hadn't "dropped"). So I went in at
midnight for a Cytotec induction. I was pretty familiar with this
routine from Sophia's birth. When they placed me on the monitors, I was
actually already having contractions, but they weren't really painful
and some I couldn't even feel. I had my medication and then we proceeded
to try and sleep.
At my 6am check, there was really no
change. In fact the nurse thought I was more like 60% effaced. She had
said this when I checked in. No big deal, these things are an estimate
and vary upon the person doing the exam. I was contracting regularly,
but still not particularly painfully. So, a second dose of Cytotec was
placed and again, we tried to rest.
Some time around
7am John went and got breakfast and snuck me some too. My midwife came
and did my 8am check. Still no real change. I was borderline that they
could even give another Cytotec because I was contracting so much. I
could feel them all at this point, but they were still manageable. Like a
4-5 of 10 on the pain scale. They decided to place a third dose. My
midwife remarked that I have a "stubborn body".
At my
10am check, still no change. Things were starting to get concerning. We
made a plan to get up, walk the halls, sit on the yoga ball, try and get
his head to descend. So I did that for 2 hours. My midwife came by on
her lunch hour and checked me. STILL no change. At this point we
discussed options. I asked if we could try Pitocin. I was advised that
that wasn't really a great option because A) I probably couldn't get an
effective dose because I was already contracting so frequently and B) My
cervix still wasn't ripe/favorable. That was the intention of the
Cytotec. I asked about getting an epidural just to see if my body wasn't
relaxed and that was hindering things. I was told again because my
dilation was so minimal, and epidurals slow things down, that I would
just likely stop any progress I might make. We were basically down to A)
Keep going how I was and wait another possibly umpteen hours to see if
I would progress B) Go home and see if things progressed naturally and
if not return later for another induction and C) A cesarean.
Because
Cytotec is given every 4 hours if needed, I had until 2pm to decide. It
was frustrating to be having regular contractions that were
ineffective. John and I discussed it, and with a peace in my heart, we
decided to proceed with the cesarean if there wasn't any progress. We
had kind of "been there done that" with an extremely long, painful,
exhausting induction before. We had also gone home and returned for a
second induction before. Neither of those did us any good. I continued
to walk, rock, sit on the ball. My contractions ramped up just a little
in intensity, and in fact I started to feel them a twinge more in my
back than my front, but sitting on the ball and leaning on the bed made
them bearable.
So the moment of truth arrived. My
midwife's attending physician came in. The felt my belly and agreed they
did not think this was an overly large baby. However, I had still not
really made any progress. His head was still very high. Then the
doctor/surgeon gave us the big talk. He again reiterated our options,
that this was not an emergency, and we could go home. Without any hard
numbers he told us "We can try and deliver you vaginally and you
probably will not have another shoulder dystocia. Or we can do a cesarean and you
definitely will not have a shoulder dystocia and it's
highly unlikely that you will have any complications. Unfortunately we have to do
hundreds of cesareans to avoid
one devastating
shoulder dystocia." My midwife also advised me that since I am not a
first time mom, my body should have responded to the medication, but it
did not. I actually had a better response to it the first time around
than I did the second. By now, my body should be able to more easily
produce the hormones needed for delivery, but it was not.
At
this point, I got a little shaky in our earlier decision. I didn't want
to go home, but I didn't want a cesarean. I also didn't want to labor
forever only to again have complications at delivery. Now the surgery
was staring me in the face, and my providers wouldn't help to sway me
with a personal opinion. The decision was solely in my hands and I would
be responsible for the repercussions.
After talking
with John again, and having a cry of fear about surgery and the loss of
my hoped for vaginal birth, we decided for the surgery. The
anesthesiologist came in and because I could only say for certain that
the last time I had water and ice chips was 2pm, my surgery couldn't be
done until 4pm. And I had to take an AWFUL medication called Bicitra.
It's a liquid and it tastes absolutely horrible, and you can't have any
chasers. Thankfully I didn't vomit right then and there.
Then
my nurse began prepping me. IV fluids, antibiotics, a shave (that was a
surprise to me!), a hospital gown, and sequential compression devices
(leg squeezers to prevent blood clots). I was asked to get in bed for
all of this, and about 3pm when they were all done, we were left alone.
It was weird in comparison to all the checks I was getting before. Well,
the bed was the most uncomfortable place during contractions, which
were still coming very frequently. I tried to be compliant, but about
20-30 minutes in, I got back on the ball. The pain was starting to
really localize to my back again, and leaning forward really helped
that. My midwife came in just before the surgery, and by then I was
breathing through contractions. Things were intensifying. I told her
these were beginning to feel like the horrific contractions I had with
Sophia.
She offered to check me one last time. Just to
be sure I wasn't rapidly changing. Nope. She said his head was in "North
Dakota". So off I went for my surgery.
I walked into
the operating room and got up on the narrow table. I had a sweet woman
for an anesthesiologist who was like a mother figure. That turned out to
be such a blessing. They put in my spinal. I felt some shooting pains
into my butt and down my back a few times, but it wasn't too bad. Then
the numbness set in. I wasn't prepared for just how numb you are. My
only experience was with my laboring epidural for Sophia. Of course for
surgery they want you completely numb, and I appreciate that; it just
took me by surprise. It's a very surreal experience.
Then
they laid me down and things got intense. They started scrubbing my
belly, putting in my foley catheter, getting me hooked up to all the
monitors for anesthesia, propping me tilted just slightly to one side.
There were a lot of things being done to my body at once and I had no
control over any of it. I started to freak out. I started talking about
how I was feeling- because talking was the only thing I really could do
of my own free will. I told them I felt really weird. My midwife asked
if I was nauseous? I wasn't sure. Then a minute later I was sure. They
gave me meds for that. Then I felt like I couldn't breathe. My sweet
anesthesiologist was stroking my forehead, and explained to me that the
spinal makes my rib muscles numb, so that my brain is not aware they
exist and are rising and falling as my lungs work normally. I was
concerned because I even felt tingling all the way to the underside of
my arms, down to my fingers. She again assured me this was normal. She
told me what I knew- they were monitoring all my vital signs and they
are normal.
At this point I felt so bizarre and "out
of body" that I asked if they could just put me out. My midwife said
"You want to be awake to see your baby." I told her I did not. I told
her I thought this was supposed to be the "easy way out" to have a baby.
I said a lot of things. It was quite an experience.
Then,
the surgeon and John came in. I immediately grabbed his hand. I was in
desperate need of some normalcy and comfort. Then the surgery got
underway. John watched a little. He said he couldn't watch it all
because it's different when the person they are cutting on is your wife.
My midwife warned me just as they were about to deliver him that I was
going to feel like she was standing on my chest and I couldn't breathe,
but it would be ok. Thankfully I did NOT have that sensation.
And
then- they pulled him out. Crying and flailing. The surgeon brought him
around really quick. I cried a little. It was odd to hear him come out
crying, because Sophia was silent due to her circumstances. I knew in my
head he was born, but I was so overwhelmed with all the feelings going
on from the surgery that I couldn't really focus on him too much. John
went over to the warmer, re-cut his cord, took some photos, watched him
get weighed and checked out, etc. My surgeon and midwife proceeded to do
all the uterine checking and cleaning. I heard my midwife ask the
anesthesiologist if I had Pitocin infusing. I did. They continued their
work and she asked again about Pitocin and the anesthesiologist said it
was running "wide open". "She's boggy" my midwife said. Being that I'm
an RN and have worked in women's health, I got concerned. I just said
"Jesus". My midwife heard me and said "It's ok". Then the
anesthesiologist gave me an injection in my arm. I knew it was
Methergine. Things were fine after that and when they were doing all the
sponge/needle/instrument counts and calling out all the facts of that
case they said my estimated blood loss was 600ml. That was within normal
limits.
John came back and they brought the baby to
see me. I kissed him but didn't feel prepared to hold him. I was still
very inwardly focused. All the staff were talking about how cute he was.
I was proclaiming to my midwife that no one should dare ask me about a
third child. She said "But they're so cute when you have them".
John
went off to the nursery with him, and the staff got me transferred back
into a bed. Oh my, it feels so unsafe and like they are going to just
roll you right off the table onto the floor. I knew in my head that was
not the case, but it's still how it felt. They wheeled me just across
the hall into recovery. I started having the post-op shakes. Oh man that
was the pits. I had them for two whole hours. On top of that I was
feeling super drowsy from the Duramorph spinal, plus they also gave me
Benadryl IV in surgery for my second bout of nausea. The Duramorph also
made me mildly itchy. But I asked them not to give me any Benadryl for
that because I was already so zonked.
During some of my
post-op checks the nurse had to massage out some clots. Let me tell you
how fun it is to get a deep tissue abdominal massage right above a 7
inch fresh surgical incision. It is NOT. She was very empathetic about
it and I knew it was necessary, and I managed to resist the urge to swat
her hands away.
Things got better as time passed. The
nurses brought the baby and tried to help me breastfeed him, but he was
sleepy and so was I. I think I held him. That period is a little foggy
for me from all the drugs.
About 6pm John went and got
Sophia. Oh my it was so sweet her meeting "her baby brother". John
helped her hold him and he was sleeping. She said "I thank the Lord he
maked my baby to sleep". She ooohed and ahhed and fussed over him. She
almost had a complete meltdown when John told her she had to leave me
and Caleb at the hospital. That part was bittersweet.
So,
that is my recollection of how Caleb came into this world. For the
second time the birth did not go as I hoped or planned, and for the
second time I brought home a healthy baby anyway. This birth thing is
tough!
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| Caleb E. White. February 5, 2016. 4:35pm 7 pounds 14 ounces, 19.75 inches |
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| Sophia and Caleb meet for the first time |
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| Proudest big sister |
