Oliver's Story

 

On November 1, 2012 Ish and I found out we were expecting another child. Because we had lost our last child, Sam, to a miscarriage, our great excitement for this pregnancy was clouded by great trepidation.

 On December 28^th at 12 weeks 3 days pregnant, I had my 2^nd prenatal appointment. I was a bundle of nerves and excitement and the appointment was going swimmingly until the end when it came time to listen to the baby’s heartbeat with the Doppler.  Sarah Grace, the midwife I was seeing that morning, got out the Doppler and started to feel around for the heartbeat and wasn’t finding anything.  She then went to get a higher frequency Doppler and still no luck.  At this point I was getting nervous, but she sent me to empty my bladder thinking this might make the baby easier to find.  When she still wasn’t finding a heartbeat she called in Kathleen, another on of the Birth Center midwives, to see if she could find it.  Both were reassuring that it might not be anything to worry about, but I was becoming a wreck.   At this point Sarah Grace called Ish back to explain what was going on and that I needed to go over to the hospital for an ultrasound.

As we walked to the hospital I was nervous but holding out hope that things would be just fine.  After the rigmarole of needing to register with the hospital and trying to keep the kids calm in the waiting room, it was my turn.  The ultrasound tech very quickly introduced herself and then let me know that because of hospital policy she would not be able to give me any of the information gleaned from the scan.  I then had the shortest ultrasound of my life.  It couldn’t have lasted more than 2 minutes.  In my heart I knew that this wasn’t good news, but I still prayed that it’d all be okay.  After waiting for the doctor to read the ultrasound, I was told that I should go back to The Birth Center to get the results.  My heart sank a little further but still I held out hope.

Upon arriving back at The Birth Center, Sarah Grace had me go back to the exam room while Ish stayed with the kids.  Looking back, I wish she had called both of us back because it was then that she let me know that our dear sweet baby had died in utero.  The pain and horror of hearing that I had lost yet another baby was almost too much to bear.  I began to cry. To wail. To keen.  After a few moments I asked Sarah Grace to go get Ish.  After she broke the news to him, Ish and I just held each other and cried.  Sarah Grace explained to us what our next steps were.  She told me I had the option of waiting to miscarry naturally at home (within medically safe time limits) or I could consult with an OB and have a D&C performed. She made it very clear that no immediate decision was necessary and that we should wait until the initial shock had worn off. Once we had that basic information, Ish and I were given time alone to cry and then pull ourselves together a bit before heading home.

The next few days were a blur as Ish and I started to adjust to the fact that the baby I was carrying inside me had died.  Although my gut reaction was to have a D&C to get it all over with as quickly as possible, a few days of contemplation made it clear that it would be best for me to wait and miscarry naturally at home.  As I waited to actually miscarry, Ish and I talked and grieved with both family and friends.  I spent time reading about miscarriage, talking with the midwives and my doula in an attempt to prepare for what was coming.  We had a good friend offer to research what our options were as Catholics for burying and commemorating our baby.  The information he provided us with combined with information provided in the book After Miscarriage: A Catholic Woman's Companion to Healing and Hope by Karen Edmisten affirmed our decision for me to miscarry at home.

When I woke up on January 7^th, 2013, I had started to bleed and have what felt like early labor contractions.  I knew that this would be the beginning of my miscarriage.  Ish called his mother and we made plans with her to pick up the kids.  After we had our plans set, Ish left for work.  I would call him if and when things got more intense. Soon after Ish left for work, his mother arrived to take the kids and she surprised me by bringing me soup and other food to keep me going through out the day.

As the day progressed, my contractions got closer together, but things weren’t particularly intense.  On the way home from work, Ish picked the kids up from his mother’s home. Ish and I kept our evening routine as normal as possible.  Dinner, play, and bedtime seemed so mundane yet comforting as we waited for things to really get going.  After the kids went to bed, we decided that I should try to head to bed and get as much sleep as I could.  It turns out as much sleep as I could meant no sleep at all. I tossed and turned for about 30 minutes.  All the while, my contractions got longer, stronger, and closer together.  At about 9:45PM, Ish joined me as I began to fully enter into active labor.  He coached me, kept me hydrated, and provided me with massage and counter-pressure.  Around 10:55PM something happened that is very rare in 1^st trimester miscarriages—my water broke.  I sent Ish for towels and after we had me dried off a bit we made our way upstairs to the bathroom. As soon as I sat on the toilet, our baby began to crown. Ish grabbed the kerchief we had set aside for this moment.  With a barely noticeable push, our precious baby was in our hands. 

What took place in this moment is something I can truly call the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.  At 11PM on January 7^th 2013, Oliver Innocent came into the world without breath or heartbeat.  Our baby boy had arrived perfectly intact with barely a drop of blood on him.  We could count his fingers and toes.  We could tell that, had he lived, he would have had the nose that is characteristic of Ish’s family.  I am so thankful for the time in which we were able to see, love, and hold him.  The days that have followed have been difficult, but the outpouring of love we have received from friends and family has been nothing short of amazing.

He said,

“Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb,

and naked shall I go back there.

The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;

blessed be the name of the LORD!”

Job 1:21

Liliana's Story, Part III

Need to catch up?
Part I
Part II
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The false water breaking alarm motivated Ish and I to get everything packed to go to the Birth Center for when I actually do go into labor. I had been procrastinating doing this earlier because Little Ish was born 6 days late. I kind of figured I would at least make it to 40 weeks with this baby.

Aside from getting things ready, the next few days were filled with some major mental struggles for me. I would start to have fairly regular contractions and then I would think, “What if the baby has flipped back into the breech position?” As soon as I would start to think the baby might be breech again my contractions would spread themselves further apart or disappear for hours at a time.

On November 3rd, Little Ish had a play date planned. My friend M and her son were coming to visit. Little Ish and J were going to play while M and I could catch up and I could get help deciphering a knitting pattern. During the playdate my contractions were getting closer together. I recall telling M that if I was going to be having contractions, it’d be nice if they were actually doing something.

Around 5, M and her son head home and Ish’s mother comes to pick up the little guy; she is watching him so we can attend our final childbirth refresher course. When we arrive at childbirth class, P, the nurse teaching the course, congratulates me on having a head down baby. I respond by saying that I keep thinking that the baby has flipped back into a breech position and that I am pretty sure that this line of thinking is preventing me from going into labor. P sends Ish downstairs to ask if one of the midwives can check the position of the baby after class--it’s a go! K will check me when class is done.

Class begins by practicing relaxation techniques. As the other couples practice breathing through pretend contractions, I am not practicing at all--I am having real contractions and breathing through them is a must. Ish helps me relax. Though I am aware that my contractions are fairly intense, I am not having any back labor so they are far less staggering than any of the contractions I had when I was in labor with Little Ish. As class progresses, I am still in denial that I could be in real labor--the other couples seem far more sure that I am in labor than I am; they all wish me good luck as they leave.

I hang out in the waiting room for a few minutes before someone decides that I should go on the monitor to see how far apart my contractions are. Aside from baby being quite adept at kicking the monitors off, this is fairly uneventful. It turns out my contractions are already 3-5 minutes apart. After the NST, K checks me to see where the baby is positioned. She is head down and I am 4+ centimeters dilated. I am a bit shocked to find that I am in active labor; it feels nothing like it did with Little Ish.

Now that I am in labor it is time to decide on a game plan. I decide I want to go home to, if nothing else, get my bags and eat some dinner. I was already past due to eat and ideally I would labor at home for a little while. K asks if she can bind my belly before I go so that the baby doesn’t have a chance to flip again. I am all for keeping my little one head down so K wraps my belly with cloth and safety pins me in.

The drive home makes my contractions feel painful. If there is anything about labor that I truly hate, it is having contractions in the car. Not being able to move with a contraction is wretched. The drive home is hampered by traffic thanks to construction on the interstate; I wonder if the people in charge of the construction know how hellish it is to labor in a car--conclusion, probably not. I distract myself by calling and texting family and friends to let them know that I am in labor.

When we arrive home, Ish makes me a chocolate peanut butter tortilla and a glass of milk as I go about our house gathering up anything else that needed to be packed (until going up and down the stairs becomes too troublesome). At some point, Ish calls his parents to let them know that child birth class has turned into child birth. They will be watching Little Ish.

By the time everything is packed and I have eaten, contractions are intense enough that I want to go back to the birth center. I call K to let her know that we are headed back. She mentions that it is a good thing since I have Group B Strep and need to start the antibiotics. She also asks if I mind if J, the student nurse at the birth center, observes my labor and birth. I am fine with this proposition. [ fun side note: J happens to be the fiancée of a friend and coworker from college].

When we arrive at the birth center, we head to the water birth suite. K gets me set up with antibiotics. She is having trouble getting an IV into my arm and the needle goes through my vein twice. Ever seen your arm fill with saline solution? It’s gross. After a couple of failed attempts she starts a line in my hand with no problem. As the antibiotics are being administered K fills the birthing tub. Remembering how soothing it was during my labor with Little Ish, I want to hop in the water as soon a possible. The antibiotics finish, but the tub is still filling so I dance through contractions. At this point I am still chatty and the contractions, although intense, are not that bad.

Finally, it is time to get in the water. From here on out time starts to blur. I labor in the tub for a long time. I am fairly relaxed and able to chat with everyone in between contractions. I even manage to eat some almonds and a fudgesicle. I remember P, one of the nurses, coming in saying she was going to take a nap. I remember saying that I didn’t think she’d get much of a nap in before I needed to push. How wrong I was!

After a while, I started feeling a lot of pressure in my butt, and assumed that I was starting to feel kind of pushy. Not so! It turns out this baby, much like her brother, wanted to spend most of labor in an OP position. Enter back labor. Around the time I started having back labor, my contractions started spacing out as well. I get out of the tub. K checks me. Progress is slower than I anticipated. After a short discussion, we decide that I should try laboring out of the tub for a while to let gravity help me dilate more. Ish is providing counter pressure as I dance, bounce on the birth ball, labor on the birthing stool, and even labor on the toilet.

Shifts change and S is the midwife taking over. Since there is another Momma in labor, I actually end up having every single midwife in the birth center attend some portion of my labor--even the one who no longer attends labors and births! Because of this I did spend sometime trying to bear down when I wasn’t ready to push which probably aided in my 20th hour of labour meltdown, but in retrospect I am charmed that I got to share my labor and birth with so many wonderful women.

Time is blurring. Back labor makes the order of things impossible to remember. I do remember spending a lot of time in the bed on my side trying to get the baby to turn. At one point my sugars were starting to drop and I had Ish applying counter pressure, S massaging my legs and feet, while J was trying to get me to drink some hot tea with milk and sugar. As I breathe and moan through contractions, I desperately want my mom to be there. Not moving through the contractions is agony and I know my mom would have the right words to encourage me. Instead of focusing on my mom being several states away, I try to think about what she would say. I can’t remember what I settled on, but it helped.

After a long time on the bed with no luck in turning the baby, S encourages me to labor
in the shower. Ish gets into his bathing suit and gets in the shower with me. He holds me up, applies counter pressure, whispers words of encouragement, and puts up with my demanding labor personality. Soon, standing is too much and I have to pee anyway.

After peeing, I labor on the toilet. I am exhausted, frustrated and sick of being in labor. I melt down and tell everyone that I want a hospital transport. S suggests checking my progress and then rupturing my membranes to get this baby down and out. I am still insisting that I cannot possibly keep laboring and need relief. S gives me and Ish time to talk it out. I beg and plead with him telling him that I need to go to the hospital and that I need him to back me up. Thankfully I have a husband who is supportive, but also knows how pissed I would be if I actually took a hospital transport. He realizes that I am talking crazy talk and that I just want some pain relief. Ish asks S if there is any sort of IV pain relief that she can give me; there is but it can cause breathing troubles in the baby if administered too close to delivery.

We decide to let S check my progress and then rupture my membranes. When she checks, I am almost fully dilated. Out comes the crochet hook for the AROM. There is amniotic fluid gushing out in waves and within minutes it feels like a bowling ball is trying to rocket itself through my backside. I am on my hands and knees with pillows supporting my front half. It is finally time to push!

With each contraction, I can feel the baby moving downward. After each contraction I sink into the pillows for a moment to regain my strength. S asks me if I want to move to my side; “I don’t want to move. I just want to push this baby out”, I manage to pant. I start to get a terrible burning sensation and I announce it to the room. Everyone encourages me to keep going. I bear down with everything I have left and with a few more pushes and the head is out followed by a warm squirmy flourish of baby body slipping out after.
“Reach down and pick up your baby,” S says. I use the rest of my energy to pick up my sweet baby. When I let Ish check for the baby’s gender, he says “It looks like we have an Oliver”*. “Try again,” S says. We have a Liliana. A perfectly sweet 6 lb 5oz little girl.

Liliana's Story, Part II

Missed part one?  Read it here.

Names of all midwives and nurses have been reduced to initials for privacy purposes.  If I get a chance to ask them for permission, names may be entered at a later date.

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Fast forward 4 days. It’s Tuesday morning; Ish is about to leave for work and I realize that I am leaking fluid. A million and one thoughts are racing through my mind: “Did my water break? Which way is the baby facing? Do I call the birth center or the new midwife? What am I supposed to do with Little Ish?” Ish and I have a frenzied conversation while Little Ish throws a full out temper tantrum. Decisions are made.

Ish calls his mom to ask her to take Little Ish. Fail. She is driving Ish’s sister Emily to the airport. Em to the rescue! She calls her husband and he is going to come hang out with the Little guy.

Little Ish goes down for a nap aka stands in his crib screaming for a while and doesn’t fall asleep. I am pretty sure he senses that something is wrong.

Since I am not having contractions at this point, Ish leaves for work. I contact the birth center and wait for the midwife on call to be paged. The five minutes it takes to get the return phone call feels like hours. The phone rings. I hastily explain my situation to D and she says that she thinks she can safely have me come get checked. I call Ish and he comes home immediately.

Ish brings the little guy outside to play until Scott arrives. I’m not even sure if I said “hi” or “thank you” before we rushed out the door (note: it’s always nice to have an experienced parent watching your child--need for instructions is minimal). The car ride was a blur. We arrived at the birth center and had to wait a few minutes to go back--the laundry room had flooded so D needed a moment to clean up.

We made our way to the exam room, and D explains the procedure for checking whether or not my water had broken. I still remember the details from our false alarm with Little Ish, but I don’t bother stopping her. Before collecting the specimen to verify the possible rupture of membranes, D listens to the baby’s heart rate on the doppler. She is finding the heart rate really low on my belly and says, “Wouldn’t it be really cool if your water hadn’t broken and baby was head down?” D feels for the baby’s head from the outside and is thinking that she may have finally flipped head down. We agree that an internal is necessary.

D does everything necessary to check if my water had broken. She is pretty sure I am in the clear, but she needs to wait for the slide she made to dry [under a microscope amniotic fluid appears as a very distinctive pattern]. Afterward, I have the longest internal ever, but D is 99.9% sure that the baby has flipped. We decide an ultrasound to verify would be a good precaution. I decide not to get my hopes up.

After all is said and done, I have my weekly NST while I wait for D to look at the slide. The baby is not doing very much, and I am due for a snack [gestational diabetics have to eat every few hours to maintain normal glucose levels]. I was in such a rush to get to the birth center that I hadn’t thought to bring anything--midwives to the rescue! D raids the birth center fridge and makes me toast. I couldn’t decide between hummus or peanut butter so I eat half a slice with one topping and half with the other. Once I have eaten and switched positions the baby is performing like a pro for the monitor.

D comes in to check on me with some “bad” news. The results of the slide are inconclusive. We go through the whole specimen collection process again. Instead of having us wait around for results, D offers to call if my water has indeed broken. This works out well because Ish spent the time I was on the monitors making me an appointment for an ultrasound. The appointment is in less than 2 hours.

The location of the ultrasound place is right near one of our favorite lunch spots. We have plenty of time to grab lunch before my appointment. One bowl of Thai chicken soup later, I am off to get an ultrasound. The ultrasound tech isn’t supposed to tell patients much, but this one is really nice and immediately verifies that the baby is head down. That is all that we needed to know but she does a full work up of the baby anyways.

As we leave the imaging center I feel so much less stressed knowing that baby is planning on diving out instead of attempting a cannon ball birth. The icing on the cake? My membranes hadn’t ruptured. Little did I know how much stress this wonderful news could cause.

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To be continued...

Liliana's Story, Part I

Since it is a rather long story and I want to give background information about the crazy 6 weeks leading up to Lily's birth, I will be posting our birth story in several parts. Please excuse all grammatical and stylistic errors--maybe one day when I have time I will go back through and edit.

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Liliana’s birth story really starts at the end of September. The same week that I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, I also found out that Lily was presenting breech. For several weeks she had been switching between head down and breech, but it was at this point that she really settled into a breech position. At first I was not panicked, but as the weeks passed it didn’t look like our little one had any intentions of turning except for several occasions when she would hang out in a transverse presentation for a few hours at a time--I could distinctly see a head and bottom on either side of my belly. This was not boding well for my birth plans.

Despite generally having a low pain tolerance, I am a huge advocate of natural birth. I also had no intentions of having a hospital birth. Between the gestational diabetes and my stubbornly breech baby,I was starting to fear that I would “risk out” of having a birth center baby. It turns out that keeping my sugars under control, while annoying, was actually rather simple. Getting Liliana to turn was a whole different ballgame.

As Liliana’s due date loomed closer, my midwives gave me all sorts of exercises to try in hopes that she would turn. Ever tried laying upside down on an ironing board for 15 minutes at a time with a bag or frozen raspberries sitting on top of your belly? It’s not fun, but I did it. I also started going to a chiropractor who used the Webster technique in attempts to flip Lily.

When I hit 36 weeks pregnant and she was still breech, I was told I might want to consider having a version. At first it seemed like a decent solution and I found a doctor willing to perform the procedure. As I researched versions, I realized it wasn’t really a risk I wanted to take. Not wanting to have a C-section [the standard protocol in hospitals for breech presentation], I took the advice of two of Ish’s sisters and called a local homebirth midwife who has experience delivering breech babies. Due to her November full of mommas who were due around the same time as me, she agreed to be my “plan c”, but first she referred me to a wonderful midwife an hour away who has tons of breech delivery experience. I called the referred midwife and not only was she willing to take me on as a client, but she made the time to meet with me and Ish that day. At our meeting, the new midwife answered all of my questions about breech birth and I left feeling confident that if Liliana remained breech that I could and would still have a natural birth.

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To be continued