I downloaded a contraction timer on my phone. I read every pregnancy and childbirth book out there. I packed my hospital bag. I unpacked my hospital bag. I packed it up again. I had a list of who to call, when to call, and what to say when the moment came. I wrote my birth plan down. I prepared my husband and doctor for what I wanted.
My ideal birth looked like this:
- Things play out on their own
- No drugs
- No epidural
- My chosen musical playlist on
- Immediate cuddles with my baby upon his arrival
This is how it actually went down:
- Pitocin
- So many drugs
- An epidural
- No music
- My baby receiving his first bath in the NICU without me there to watch
It was a Thursday. I woke up to one of my biggest pregnancy fears – bleeding. And lots of it. But, I’d heard about “the show” and figured it was an early sign of labor. Besides, I’d been having what seemed like small contractions for days. Maybe weeks. Honestly, it could have been a month at that point.
I headed for my routine doctor’s appointment. My doctor didn’t seem very worried, but she sent me to the hospital for monitoring just in case.
When I arrived, they hooked me up to a myriad of machines and said it would take 30 minutes. Several hours later, they told me I’d need to be induced because I was having contractions that “just weren’t doing anything,” and scheduled an induction.
For the previous nine months, I’d been carving into every stone surface I could find that “I won’t be having an induction.” I spent countless hours studying drug-free childbirths. I was 100% sure I wanted to do things the natural way. It wasn’t really that I was anti-drugs necessarily, but I was definitely anti-needles. I have a ridiculous fear of needles. I tremble and cry and faint when one even comes near me.
Determined to have my baby without an induction, I spent the next couple of days bouncing on a yoga ball and taking walks around the neighborhood. I still experienced small gushes of water, but the bleeding seemed to be tapering off.
On Saturday, my husband commented that he didn’t think my bleeding and gushes of liquid were normal. I gave in and said I’d go to the hospital, but only to be checked out.
“Should we grab the hospital bag?” he asked as we headed out the door. “No,” I advised. “We won’t be long.”
Ha!
I got to the hospital and the 24 hours that followed where a whirlwind. Turns out, my water had broken when I started bleeding. That explains those gushes I felt. Because my water had been broken for so long, I was set to be induced immediately. I was also pumped full of antibiotics and warned that my baby would be headed straight for the NICU upon his arrival.
They wheeled me back to get my IV started as my husband frantically called my parents. Three hours later… I had an IV. Yes, three hours. Remember that fear of needles I mentioned? They pricked me 18 times before they got the IV inserted.
From there, my baby’s heart rate dropped when I moved, so I was told I could not move again. Cue: catheter. Due to his fluctuating heartbeat, I was encouraged to mentally prepare for a C-section.
I still wanted a natural birth at this point, but that was before I knew about the power of Pitocin. Ladies, no one told me how incredibly painful Pitocin-induced contractions are. Hence, I opted for the epidural. The anesthesiologist spent a full hour administering the epidural before it fell out and had to be re-inserted (along with, incidentally, my IV).
Eventually, I was put on oxygen. Around that same time, my blood pressure fell. The monitor went off for the remainder of the birth, and we all learned to tune it out.
I remember staring at the machine that monitored my baby’s heartbeat and obsessing over the number. I couldn’t look away from it. All I cared about was that number.
Finally, it was time to push. That part wasn’t so bad, honestly. My husband was a true champion of a coach, and my son was born after a near 24-hour labor. He was whisked away to the NICU and returned to me with an IV in his small little hand.
Worse than that tiny IV was the fact that he had to stay after I was discharged. I just couldn’t wait to get him home.
With that experience behind me, I came away with a few lessons:
- One – make a plan, but be prepared to stray from that plan in every way possible. And, learn to be okay with that.
- Two – trust your body. If I’d trusted myself and my instincts, my birth story may be completely different.
- Three – don’t be afraid to ask for something. I’ll never understand why my doctor didn’t check me for an amniotic fluid leak. The same goes for the hospital. When I found out she hadn’t tested me, I should have asked. You pay for your doctor, so make them work for it.
- Four – your water doesn’t always “break.” If you notice even a small bit of what seems like water, get checked out. That’s my biggest regret.
Remember, every childbirth is different. Some are easy, some are hard. Some go according to plan, some go very, very differently. They’re all a miracle.
Mine wasn’t how I imagined it would be, but it was still perfect.
