Pregnancy
After having my 3rd born, I thought I had hung up the pregnancy and baby chapter in my life. Not necessarily by choice, but by necessity. Each pregnancy had gotten significantly harder on my body. But after my 3rd I was dealing with chronic pain, an auto immune disease, and vein problems in my legs, among other things. Although I felt like Arden had completed our family, every few months I would get a wave of sadness realizing how fast the kids were growing up and that I would never again experience life with a baby or toddler in the family. I chalked that up to normal feelings of nostalgia and never considered putting my body through pregnancy again, despite knowing I'd never really feel 100% done doing something that I felt like I had been made to do.
Then December of 2017 came. We were sitting at Lane's preschool Christmas Concert when a wave of heat, dizziness and nausea washed over my body. I started breaking out in a panicked sweat and got up and ran out. I went to the bathroom to get sick and then came out and weakly watched his concert from the back of the auditorium. After the concert the families were supposed to stay for desserts in the community room, but as we talked to a few people, the nausea wouldn't subside. Tate jokingly told someone I was pregnant again. I gulped and tried to laugh it off. But inside I already knew, my body knew.
The week following my positive pregnancy test was an emotional one. I was terrified and sicker than I had ever been in previous pregnancies. I went in for early lab tests based on how I was feeling. My HCG levels came back higher than normal for how far along I was. I remember the nurse telling me over the phone that I needed to come back the next day for an ultrasound to rule out the possibility of twins or a molar pregnancy. The next day, the ultrasound showed a normal single pregnancy, and my higher than normal HCG levels were just that, which could explain why my symptoms seemed so intense. I went into survival mode at home and just tried to focus on getting through the first trimester, telling myself everything would be better by week 14 or so. But it never got better.
It's nearly impossible to be sick all day, everyday, for months on end and not have it effect your mental health. I felt depressed and anxious most days. I worried constantly: Could my body handle another pregnancy? Is something going to go wrong? No one gets 4 healthy pregnancies... right?! Wasn't I due for a loss? What if something happened to me? How would my three kids live without me? Clearly I wasn't being very rational, my anxiety was out of my control and my stress was at an all time high.
On really bad days I tried to focus on trusting that my body knew what to do, and putting my focus on the baby that would arrive at the end of this. I told the kids about my pregnancy earlier than I had planned on telling them simply because they were getting worried about me being so sick. They were SO thrilled. It was all they talked about. They thanked me daily for doing this "for them".
Towards the end of my pregnancy I started feeling better emotionally, simply because the end was in sight and I couldn't wait to meet the baby. My doctor and I had talked about my plans for birth. Because I didn't have Group B Strep this pregnancy like I had with my 2nd and 3rd, it meant that hopefully I could have a slightly shorter labor (if induced) and hospital stay, because antibiotics and extended observation wouldn't be a consideration. But at my last pregnancy appointment, my doctor checked my cervix and stopped suddenly, saying we needed to do an ultrasound because she thought she felt baby feet where his head had been the week prior. A few minutes later I was whisked into an ultrasound that confirmed that indeed, the baby had flipped and was now footling breech, days before I was set to deliver. My doctor recommended we go to the hospital the next morning and attempt an external cephalic version (ECV) to manually flip the baby. I trusted her whole heartedly so I agreed, despite the fact that the idea of doing an ECV and possible complications, terrified me.
I went home and researched ECVs all afternoon, watching videos of them, reading the chances of it being successful, and the chances of something going wrong and needing an immediate c-section to save the baby. I was terrified. Why was this happening at this point in my pregnancy? Baby's usually don't have enough room to flip at the very end, and the fact he had, meant even if he flipped back to head down during the version, he may flip breech again before delivery. I nervously packed my hospital bag, in case we had to do an immediate emergency delivery or in case my water broke during the ECV. Shortly before the end of business that day, I stopped into my chiropractors office (who I had been seeing periodically throughout the pregnancy to help me with my pubic bone dysfunction and migraines) and told her the baby was breech. She told me she could perform a simple adjustment to flip him. Of course I was a bit skeptical but didn't see the harm in trying. She worked on my low back and round ligament for all of 2 minutes and wished me well. I went home and went to bed not feeling any big flipping movements.
The next morning Tate and I arrived at the hospital at 7:30 and I got hooked up to an IV after the nurse felt my stomach and said that she thought the baby was still breech based on feeling his "head" in my left ribcage. I told her his head had been in my right ribcage the day before at my ultrasound, but didn't want to be argumentative so I didn't push for her to double check his position with an ultrasound. She then gave me a medicine that sped up my heart rate, which would loosen my uterus and allow my doctor to manipulate the baby from the outside more easily. The medicine made me feel flushed and jittery. Shortly after, my doctor arrived at the hospital and she pulled over the ultrasound machine to use during the ECV, to make sure the baby was safe. My doctor scoffed in amazement the second she put the ultrasound on my stomach. I jerked my head up and strained to see the screen. Was he head down?! She laughed and confirmed he had flipped on his own and was not only head down, but extremely far down and engaged in my pelvis. She couldn't believe it! I was so happy I just kept laughing that this was far less painful than I had anticipated. The nurse apologized to us for not checking with an ultrasound before poking and prodding me and pulling my doctor away from the clinic. But at that point I couldn't have cared less. He was head down and safe.
The next few days I constantly overanalyzed any large movements wondering if he was still head down. We agreed to wait until the following Tuesday and then go back into the hospital to either start an induction if he was still head down, or if he was breech make the decision to either do an ECV and immediate induction, or go straight to a c-section.
The Birth
It was strange to go into the hospital not knowing how I would be delivering. I assumed I would be able to attempt my 4th vaginal delivery, but at this point I had no idea what to expect. We needed to be at the hospital at 7:30 am to get checked in. I was delivering at the same hospital I had my 3rd at, with the same doctor. I had had an amazing nurse during my delivery with Arden so when I met my nurse this time, and didn't feel a ton of warmth from her, I instantly felt a bit disappointed. She told me she couldn't do anything until my doctor stopped by to check my cervix and see if the baby was head down, and that she would call and check in at 9 am if my doctor hadn't come yet. 9 am?! I was anxious and couldn't imagine sitting in a hospital room staring at the wall for the next couple of hours without any purpose. Thankfully my doctor showed up shortly before 8 am. Tate had just left the room to run and grab a coffee. My doctor came in, confirmed the baby was still head down (yay!), and immediately broke my water. She told the nurse to start me on Pitocin through an IV and told me not to hold off on getting an epidural, like I had with Arden (my only pain-med birth), and instead get it early enough to enjoy a pain-free labor. Tate walked into the room right after doctor left and we filled him in on all that had occurred during the 5 minutes he was gone.
The nurse still hadn't gotten my IV started, she was having difficulty finding a vein to put the IV in. I still had a mark where my IV from the ECV the week before had been, so that complicated her search. She attempted 3 veins before getting one that worked. My arm was throbbing and bulging in places where she had pushed fluid into it, without being in a vein properly. She had a bit of difficulty getting my external heartbeat and contraction monitors to give a proper reading and was saying if the baby didn't stay on the monitors with the belts, we would have to put a monitor in the babys scalp.
By 8:30, I was excited to be hooked up on Pitocin, with broken waters. This was much earlier in the day than my previous inductions, where I had to receive 4+ hours of antibiotics before they would break my water or turn up the Pitocin much. I kept checking the clock, telling myself we could have a baby by lunch time. I don't know why I was so anxious to get labor over with, well besides the obvious, I think it had a lot to do with my anxiety throughout pregnancy that something was going to go wrong. I just wanted him here and safe, and myself safe, and to start the next chapter of our lives at a family of six.
I asked the nurse around 9 am if I could walk around or do something to help labor move along a little quicker. She said no, but gave me the birthing ball to sit on if I wanted. I spent the next hour slowly and awkwardly bouncing and swaying on the ball, with the heartrate monitor in my hand pressed firmly against my belly so the baby wouldn't need a scalp monitor. The ball was irritating me because it was a little too big for me to sit on properly, and I was constantly having to readjust it. Finally I decided to stand up and sway or walk in place since I wasn't allowed to walk the halls.
The nurse kept coming back every half an hour to check on my pain level, which was mostly non-existent, and turn up the Pitocin. By 10:30 I was starting to get bummed that I barely felt any pain, just a little mini pressure during each contraction the monitors were picking up. The nurse commented I must have a high pain tolerance, but I knew I just wasn't progressing just yet.
At 11 the nurse came in and decided to check my cervix. I was only dilated to 2.5-3 cm, and since I had already been 2.5 when I had checked in this morning, that was not good news to me at all. I silently stood next to the monitors and my bed and kept swaying back and forth, making sure to visualize the baby dropping and my cervix progressing. Now that the Pitocin had been turned up quite high I finally started to feel pain with the contractions. Not terrible pain, but pain none the less. I had renewed hope that things would start moving faster now. I stood and swayed and swayed for another hour and a half. The pain was gradually getting worse, but I knew from my previous births, what each centimeter felt like pain-wise, and suspected I was only at about a 4.5.
As 1pm approached I had started to feel hopeless, here I was swaying back and forth for hours, my legs about to give out under the weight of my huge pregnant body, and I didn't feel like we were anywhere near meeting the baby. Tate reminded me that this is how it was with Arden's induction too and to relax, because things went very quickly out of nowhere at the end with her. I couldn't remember, so I looked up the blog post I had made about her birth story and read through it. He was right, which made me feel a bit better, but either way things had moved faster with her by this point in my water being broken. All 3 previous kids had been born within 5 hours of my water being broken, and we were past that now.
At about 1:30 the pressure in my cervix was intense, but the contractions still weren't extremely painful. I finally sat down on the bed, I couldn't find the energy to stand or sway anymore. I was exhausted. The nurse decided to check my cervix again, and confirmed I was still only 5 cm dilated. It was at that point that I told her I wanted to order an epidural in hopes that that would speed things up, since that's what happened with my labor with Arden. I was starting to wonder if I was stressing out too much and holding my body back from relaxing and letting labor progress.
Shortly before 2 the anesthesiologist arrived just as I noticed I was starting to get the shakes. I wondered if I was moving into transition, as my pain had intensified a little since laying down too. The anesthesiologist was a talker... to put it mildly. He talked and talked and talked and talked for what felt like 40 minutes, everything from epidural information, to his mother in law, to coworkers. He and the nurse were chatting back and forth about her upcoming surgery and who she wants to do her pain meds, and I sat there hunched over on the bed annoyed and shaking. Finally the nurse realized I was shaking and held onto my hands while he finished hooking up the epidural. After the anesthesiologist left I was told to lay with a towel propped under my right side to let the medicine flow evenly. The nurse checked me and I was only 5.5-6 cm so she put in a catheter. I told the her I could still feel the same amount of pain on my right side but not my left, so she took the towel out from under my right hip and rotated me to my right side.
I had been shaking before the epidural, but now I was shaking intensely and couldn't relax. Along with that I was also getting extremely nauseous. I wasn't sure if this was nausea because I was hitting transition or if it was just my pregnancy nausea flaring up because I hadn't been able to take my daily anti-nausea meds at noon. I asked Tate to grab me a bag to throw up in and the nurse said she would bring me some crackers and ginger ale and let me break the "no eating rule". The crackers and soda helped some, but the nausea remained, and so did the shakes. I was starting to regret getting the epidural because the pain hadn't completely gone away and because I was shaking so hard I couldn't relax and felt sick. The machine the epidural was being fed through kept beeping and the nurse was worried the medicine may not actually be flowing, she called another nurse in to help, but they couldn't figure it out so the anesthesiologist came back to make sure there wasn't a kink in the line. He confirmed everything was fine and eventually the machine quit beeping. I still wasn't able to relax and didn't feel the relaxation I had hoped to feel from the epidural.
To make matters worse the nurse informed me that the baby's heart rate was dropping with each contraction, and that it wasn't significant yet, but was something she was watching closely. This news put me over the edge, as I sat there praying that the baby's heartrate stayed steady and that labor would be over soon. My focus was no longer on my shakes or my nausea, but just getting the baby out safely.
At around 2:45 my doctor stopped in to check on me, she could tell on my face that I was worried and sick. She told me to relax and that she wasn't leaving the hospital now and wasn't worried about the baby's heart rate and that it was likely just his head being squeezed now that he was so close. She had one other induction patient who she said was also "very close" to delivering, so she joked to make sure we timed it just right. I felt better after seeing her, because she always knows exactly what to say to make you calm and reassured you are in good hands.
My nurse covered me with a blanket and told me to tell her instantly if something changed, but if not she would be back in to check on me in 20-30 minutes. As soon as she left the room I felt a huge contraction that I had to breathe through. I didn't want to verbalize anything so I kept it to myself. Then two more contractions came back to back with intense pressure. I looked at Tate and said "Either my epidural really does have a kink and is not working or I need to push..." and decided to call my nurse back. I felt silly calling her back so soon, as if I was a bother, so I said I knew it had only been a few minutes but something had shifted drastically. She said she would check just to be sure, and put on a glove. She put her hand down to check my cervix and said "Oh my goodness... ok, that's the baby's head, you're completely dilated and he's crowning!" and she ran out of the room to get my doctor as I smiled for the first time all day. "He's almost here!" I thought as Tate and I laughed excitedly with huge sighs of relief.
The nurse stepped back into the room minutes later and said that my doctor's other patient was, ironically enough, pushing next door and she wouldn't be able to come in for at least 10-20 minutes. I wanted to cry. The pressure was so intense, even with the epidural, that I had to breathe through every contraction and put all my focus into NOT pushing, which doesn't feel natural at all. She assured me that my doctor would rush over as soon as the other baby was out. She also told me she had gloves and knew how to deliver if necessary, so to keep communicating with her on how I was feeling. She called for the baby nurse who brought in the baby's cart, while she set up the bed for delivery. I kept breathing heavily, suddenly so thankful to have gotten the epidural so that it was possible to resist pushing. With intense pain, there is no way I would have been able to hold the baby in.
Tate nervously stood next to the bed, asking the nurse if there's any way the baby could go back up some from waiting to push. Instead of just telling him no, she said the baby could need to be pushed back inside and have an emergency C-section. I don't think she understood the question, or what we needed to hear right then. I just kept focusing on breathing and the nurse suddenly said "Did you hear that?! A baby's cries! It's almost over." A flood of relief washed over me, both for the patient next door who was meeting her baby, and relief that I would soon meet mine.
A couple of minutes later my doctor rushed in, apologizing and joking that she had the two nicest patients to have this happen to, the other patient trying to "hurry" for my sake, and me waiting patiently for her to be done next door. She was prepping herself and her work station so she told me to reach down and feel the baby and how much hair he had. I reached down and felt the baby's head, sticking halfway out. I couldn't believe it, now all that pressure made sense!
About 2 minutes after entering the room, the doctor was ready and told me to go ahead and push through the next contraction. 30 seconds later I felt one coming and started to push, but could feel resistance. The doctor told me to stop, and that she had been pushing him back in. She told me that his head was too big and not going to fit, and I had started to tear in a bad location that would be hard to recover from. She had me stop pushing while she gave me two different episiotomies in a better location to allow him to fit out. She explained she hardly ever does them, but in this case, it was going to be the best option. With the next contraction I was free to push again, but because the nurse had turned off the Pitocin when I was waiting, and my contractions were suddenly more spaced out. We waited for the longest 2 minutes of my life and then a contraction started and I pushed his head out, as my doctor told me to stop and breathe, and without my knowledge at the time, unwrapped the cord from around his neck before I pushed more. I pushed once more and felt the intense instant relief flood over me as he slid all the way out. It was 3:25 pm.
The emotions were instant, tears started streaming down my face as I looked up at him. He started crying instantly as the room was filled with chatter. "He's so big!" "He's perfect!" "He looks like Lane!"... I started crying and laughing simultaneously. He's here! He's healthy! I'm healthy! We did it! It's over... it's really over. Suddenly the emotions I wasn't able to have my 9 months of sickness and misery had hit hard. I get to do this again. He's perfect. Everything is ok. Everyone is ok. I can relax. He's here. And I'm so in love.
The nurse set him on my chest for skin to skin as he whimpered in my neck quietly, suddenly calm. I felt a single tear run down my cheek as I blinked and strained to see his face where it was snuggled in under my chin. The doctor worked to deliver my placenta that was somewhat stuck, as Tate snapped a bunch of pictures and hurriedly sent brief updates to our family letting them know he was here.
As my doctor was finishing my repair the baby's nurse asked if I was ok with her taking him to get his measurements and Apgar. I agreed and she took him from my chest and I was able to see his face clearly for the first time. He looked so much like the other kids that another wave of emotion and nostalgia washed over me. How could I be this lucky? Lucky enough to raise 4 amazing humans. It was all so worth it.
I looked over at Tate as he looked down at the baby's face in his bed for the first time and as his hand went to his mouth and intense tears started streaming down his face, I felt the same exact thing. The nurse announced his measurements to the room. 8 lbs 10 oz., 20.75 inches long, and 15 inch head. He looked healthy and perfect and she wrapped him up and brought him back to me. He instantly latched on and began nursing as the doctors and nurses wished us well and left the room after dimming the lights. We stayed there in our happy little bubble for the next couple of hours, a total blur of emotions, and relief.
Gavin Jeffrey Broze
8.21.18
8 lbs 10 oz
20.75 inches
15 inch head
