I want to document his birth story, but I’ll start towards the beginning. It had never been a question to me whether or not I wanted an epidural for my labor. Why not take advantage of modern science and have a pleasant birthing experience rather than one filled with screaming and cursing? Then, on the recommendation of a friend at church, I watched a documentary called “The Business of Being Born.” After seeing it, I began to entertain the idea of maybe doing a natural birth. The film is biased- obviously they’re trying to persuade the viewer that birth without medical intervention is the better choice and birthing in the comfort of your own home is even better. I wouldn’t consider birthing at home- the fear of needing the baby to be in a hospital setting in an emergency situation for me is too great- but I was certainly persuaded that if I wanted to, I could make it through labor without any drugs. I felt empowered and I decided I would go drug free.
At about 26 weeks or so, I had changed my mind. Again, an epidural is an easy fix and would definitely make the process more enjoyable. At around that same time we enrolled in a childbirth prep class. I didn’t know precisely what it entailed, but I knew that I wanted to feel more prepared than I did at the time. Paul and I had read several books up to that point, but I felt that a classroom setting would help even more. The class was a series of seven 2 ½ hour classes over seven weeks. We discussed the phases of labor, what happens to your body physiologically, breathing techniques, positions that help ease pain and encourage the baby to orient himself into the proper position for birth, medical interventions, CPR, breastfeeding, caring for the baby, and postpartum changes. On the last day of class we decorated onesies. Here’s Paul’s creation:
Anyway, over the course of those seven weeks I made up my mind once and for all about how I wanted to bring baby FJ into the world. I would keep an open mind to an epidural if the pain got to a point that I couldn’t bear it, but only once I was well into the active labor phase. Otherwise, unless absolutely medically necessary, I didn’t want any other medical interventions- no pitocin, induction of labor, etc. And most of all I didn’t want to deliver cesarean. I didn’t want to deal with the long recovery and for many people that I’d talked to, having a cesarean made breastfeeding much more difficult. I felt good about my decision and Paul was supportive, even though he absolutely hated practicing our breathing techniques in class. :)
At my 30 week appointment, my doctor told me that the baby was breech, but that it wasn’t a concern since I still had 10 weeks left of my pregnancy and the baby was likely still doing his acrobatics. At 35 weeks I went to a perinatologist to get an accurate estimate of his weight (which was 5.75 lbs) and make sure that everything else was cooking normally. Everything was ship-shape, except that he was still breech. Again, we were told that it wasn’t a big concern, since babies are still able to flip themselves around, but by 35 weeks, most babies have already done so. He recommended that we talk to my OB and be open to the idea of version if the baby hadn’t flipped around in two weeks. The next day I got a call from my OB who had just received the report from the perinatologist. She recommended that I see a chiropractor who could perform the “Webster Methdod,” which is supposed to relieve some of the tension on the lower uterus and thus create more room for the baby’s head. She said that she doesn’t perform vaginal deliveries for breech babies and if he didn’t flip around then I would need to schedule a c-section. I’m not a huge fan of chiropractics- I feel that in general it addresses symptoms and not underlying causes, but I was willing to give it a try if it meant avoiding a cesarean delivery. In the following two weeks I saw a chiropractor twice, but the baby still didn’t flip. Since I was nearly 38 weeks, it was time to discuss different options.
I talked to my OB about doing an external cephalic version, a procedure in which two doctors attempt to manually turn the baby by pushing and prodding him with their hands on my stomach. We scheduled the version for Monday February 21st. We went to the hospital early that morning and they began to monitor the baby’s heart rate and my contractions. They wanted to establish they baby’s patterns so that if he went into distress while the version was being performed, they’d be able to differentiate it from his normal state. I hadn’t realized that my contractions were so regular- about every four minutes, but there wasn’t any pain involved, just a feeling of tightening. In addition to the monitoring, I was started on an IV in case they had to perform an emergency c-section. If the baby did go into distress, I’d be knocked out with general anesthesia and rushed to the operating room where the baby would be delivered within five minutes. Knowing that was a possibility was frightening. We could have become parents that very day! After about an hour and a half of monitoring, the doctors came in and attempted the version. I couldn’t believe how painful it was. They dug into my stomach and sort of grabbed hold of the baby- one of them cupped his bum and tried to pull it up and out of my pelvis while the other one cupped his head and pulled it clockwise. His head only moved about an inch and his bum didn’t move at all. They tried the other direction, which was more fruitful, but barely. After about six minutes of their prodding, they stopped and said that he was so wedged they wouldn’t be able to turn him. My OB said that we should schedule a c-section for some time that week. I would be 39 weeks on Friday and she wanted to do it before then so that I wouldn’t go into labor on my own. The idea was that if it was scheduled, I could plan to not eat 12 hours before the c-section, and if I went into labor on my own, I might have eaten recently. Some people react adversely to the anesthesia on a full stomach. We decided to schedule it for Thursday February 24th.
Now that a c-section was unavoidable (unless, of course, he happened to flip on his own before Thursday), I had to change my attitude. At first I felt like I was being cheated out of the experience that I had been expecting for the last nine months. I had done so many things to prepare myself physically and mentally for a vaginal birth and now, by no fault of my own, I wouldn’t be able to experience it. I was sad that I wouldn’t feel the excitement and rush of adrenaline when I realized that my labor was starting. “Paul, this is it!!” I tried to put those feelings aside and look for the positive aspects of having a cesarean delivery. When it came down to it though, I was able to accept that this is just the way it was going to be, and by Tuesday night, it no longer bothered me. I was so excited to meet our little man that the means by which that happened didn’t seem to matter anymore. On Wednesday night I expected to be a bundle of nerves and not be able to sleep. However, both Paul and I felt incredibly and uncharacteristically calm. I know this was due to the vast number of prayers said on our behalf. We were truly blessed by the calming influence of the Holy Ghost.
On Thursday morning we got to the hospital at 9:30 and I was monitored once again like I was on Monday.
(Before leaving for the hospital.)
However, this time there was mild pain associated with each contraction. My doctor said that if I hadn’t been having a c-section, I probably would have had the baby that day or the next which made me feel good because I was feeling a little bit guilty about taking my bun out of the oven before he was good and ready. At 11:00 the anesthesiologist came in and talked to me about how he would administer the spinal block. At 11:30 Paul dressed in scrubs
and we walked down to the operating room. Paul waited in the recovery room while I received the spinal block and they prepped my tummy. Paul came in just before the doctors did. They checked my level of numbness and from there I’m not sure exactly what they were doing. Before I knew it, my doctor said “There’s the bum!” I started to cry. I was so overwhelmed with a feeling of happiness. One of the doctors said, “You’re going to feel pressure on your stomach.” She put her hands on the top of my stomach and pulled down. Shortly afterwards I heard the sweetest little cry. A nurse brought him over so I could see him for just a moment and then they cleaned him up and Paul trimmed the umbilical cord. Once they cleaned him up the nurse brought him over again, but this time close to my face and I was able to give him some kisses.
What soft little cheeks! While they sewed me up, Paul took Parker to the recovery room.
After they were done, the anesthesiologist gave me something for pain that was absolutely awful! I started to feel hot and claustrophobic. The room seemed to be swimming, my skin itched, and I just felt so uncomfortable. They took me to the recovery room and I was able to breastfeed Parker, but it was hardly the bonding experience that I expected because of the effects of the medicine, which didn’t wear off for another two hours. I stayed in the recovery room for those two hours, and then they took us to the postpartum room where we stayed until Sunday morning.
At that point we hadn’t yet decided on a name. We had brought a list of names with us that we both liked and were able to narrow it down to either Dane or Parker. We decided on Dane, but after about an hour, we both felt that it didn’t fit, and we chose Parker instead. The name felt so right. His middle name, Matthew, is my brother’s name, and we’ve known for several months that that would be his middle name. Thursday night wasn’t a great one for Parker. He cried most of the night and Paul stayed up with him the whole time. I was on morphine and Benedryl and slept through the night except to feed Parker. Every night except one since then (our first night home) he has been an absolute angel.
I really enjoyed our stay in the hospital. Paul’s sister Dakin recommended that we take full advantage of the hospital staff and to stay there as long as we could. I’m so glad we took her advice! All of the nurses and doctors were wonderful. They gave us great insights and tips on taking care of Parker and how to make my recovery as speedy as possible. I stayed in bed for 24 hours after the surgery, and those first few steps were slow and painful. I’m so grateful for Paul and how much he helped me while we were in the hospital. He took care of me and Parker (who roomed with us the whole time) round the clock. I didn’t even change a single diaper until he was four days old.
(Going home from the hospital. Our first family photo.)
Even though we’re both feeling quite sleep deprived, Paul and I are loving every moment we spend with our little guy. He’s so darn cute and so small. We’re absolutely in love and feel so blessed!
First bath:
Big yawn!
