The Birth Story

Today is the one year anniversary of Ahsoka's due date. She waited a whole week from her due date to make her way into the world (or perhaps it took a week of contractions/ early labor + over 33 hours of active labor to convince her to come out). But as I read my "still pregnant" post from this date last year, and thinking about everything it took to get her into our lives; I think today will always be a special anniversary to me.

I meant to write out her birth story soon after it occurred so that everything would be fresh in my mind. I wanted to note every single detail. But life is busy, and working full time while being a full time mama leaves little time to write. But as I take stock of the things in my life that help me process my thoughts, that help me navigate through this life, writing is at the top of the list. So, in celebration of the date my doctors thought my daughter might be born, I will write the birth story. Why not wait for her actual birth date? Because the reality is that the story of Ahsoka's birth was a week-long adventure. 

A year ago today, the day started like any other typical Monday. Except for the fact that I was an extremely uncomfortable pregnant lady who had spent the past few weeks thinking that my baby was coming early, and that had not happened. I was fortunate because my job at the time allowed me to work from home the later part of my pregnancy journey. So I was gearing up for an uneventful day at work, even as I was having what I thought were "pretend" contractions, and going about my day. My husband went into work because nothing indicated to me that Ahsoka was coming anytime soon.

But then about mid-day, my "pretend" contractions started to feel a little more... intense. Nothing too painful, just... more frequent and more of a full body experience. So I texted my husband, and said that I didn't want to alarm him, but I think that labor might be starting. Now, knowing from our birthing class that early labor can take a day or two, we weren't too concerned, but being the loving husband that he is; Zach rushed home to be with me. As the contractions intensified, we realized that there was a winter storm rushing through the area. And we thought, let's call the nurse line to see what they recommend. They recommended that we go to the hospital immediately. 

Upon arrival to the hospital, they hooked us up to a monitor, we talked about what our birth plan was going to be (a natural birth in a birthing tub, which the hospital was happy to accommodate)... and were told that neither my doctor nor my OBGYN were not on call for that day. I was incredibly dismayed. My OB had been with us throughout the entire journey, and my regular doctor (who is also an OB) was also someone that I would have loved to be in on the process. A couple of hours after our arrival, and after testing my birth canal for any amniotic fluid that might be leaking out (there wasn't any), they realized that my contractions (while they were legitimate contractions) were simply not consistent enough to move labor forward. I was also barely dilated at half-an-inch. Given they weather, they said that we would wait around a couple of hours; however, it was very unlikely that anything was going to occur any time soon. So we decided to trek though the bad weather and make our way home.

By the time we left, the snow storm was heavy underway, and rush hour traffic had started. One of the highway exits that we would have taken to get home was completely blocked by an accident, so we had to get off the highway and drive through the city. Our car threatened to get stuck numerous times, we navigated around cars that were legitimately stuck, but somehow I knew that we were going to be ok. It took us two hours to get across town (10 miles). Despite my rather uncomfortable contractions and the stress of driving through bad weather, the whole thing was kind of funny to us and surreal. We joked that it would be funny if I had the baby on the road (it wouldn't).

Finally, once we were across town, and probably only a few miles from home, we realized we were starving. So we stopped at a local burger joint and through my contractions, we enjoyed what was yet another possibly last meal before the baby comes moment (we had eaten out several times leading up to the due date thinking that it could be the last time we sit as childless adults together in a restaurant). It was kind of comical because I was HUGE and obviously having contractions, eating a burger, drinking a root beer, and watching the snow dumping outside. The wait staff watched us curiously.

We made it home that night exhausted, and complete bewildered as to what to expect next.

The next morning, I had my weekly doctor's appointment with my OB. They examined me, witnessed me having a couple of contractions, and took a peak at the baby to see how she was doing. While she was head down, she was facing the wrong way; which is likely why labor was not progressing. They advised that I just continue to wait it out at home, and my OB felt very strongly that Ahsoka would emerge in the next day or two. 

For for nights and five days, we waited... Well, "waited" isn't the right word. We tried to do anything we could to get labor to progress. I did yoga every day, I went for very short and very awkward walks outside (in over a foot of snow, with my husband holding me to make sure I didn't fall). I went to the pool to walk around, in attempt to try to convince Ahsoka to come to us. And we did very awkward (and at times very uncomfortable) stretches that were supposed to help the baby "turn" the correct direction. Every night I would go to sleep with my contractions intensifying, and every morning I would wake up with barely a contraction every 20 minutes.

Finally that Saturday night around 10PM, I noticed that the contractions once again seemed to be intensifying, and I thought JUST MAYBE this would be it. But it still didn't seem as intense as the nurses at the hospital indicated the would be. So we went to bed. Then I awoke with the intense feeling I needed to use the bathroom. It was at that point that I lost my mucus plug (something I had been told to anticipate in our birth classes, but that I still didn't full understand until it happened). It was an exciting moment because I knew that meant we could go to the hospital, that labor was finally progressing. I woke up my husband, and he and I decided to take quick showers before heading out. Unfortunately while he was showering, and I was packing my bag, my water broke as I was standing in front of my dresser. I had to laugh. I had been told by SO MANY PEOPLE that your water does not simply break while at home. That only happens in the movies you see. Well, not only did my water break right there in my bedroom, but I continued to leak all the way to the hospital.

Upon arrival the hospital checked us in, and got us set up in a birthing suite. Monitoring the contractions (after testing yet again to make sure my water had actually broken, which it had), they said that we still had a while to wait and that we should get some rest. I was still only dilated about an inch. My OB was on a road trip, and would not be back until Sunday evening, so I was sadly aware she would not likely be there; however, my regular doctor was going to be there the next day, which made me happy because I thought at least she would likely be there for the birth. Despite knowing that we were likely in there for the long haul, I had trouble sleeping that night. I was too excited.

The next morning my doctor warned that approximately 12 hours after my water broke (so around noon she said), that if the labor didn't progress we would want to speed things up with pitosin because you are more open to infection once your water breaks. Surely the baby would be ready to get here by then! But as the day wore on, my contractions slowed yet again, so my dreams of having a natural water birth were tossed out the window, and I was hooked up to an IV to begin the pitosin drip. I would still be able to labor down in the bath tub if I wished, but they can't do a water birth when you have to take pitosin. I understood because the reality is that I was more concerned about having a healthy baby than having a perfect birth story. 

Of all the things I had prepared for in getting ready for Ahsoka's birth (knowing full well that birth plans often go out the window), I had not really read up on pitosin. I knew that pitosin moved slow labors forward, and was used to induce labor, but that was about it. I didn't realize that in the process of "Speeding things up", pitosin also causes contractions to intensify. And the word "intensify" doesn't really quite capture the feeling. I went from breathing and humming through my contractions to howling and weeping through them. The contractions were coming every minute, without any relief. I was using the bathroom every five minutes. I sat on a birthing ball, I leaned over the bed, I tried to walk, I labored in an extremely hot bath... nothing gave me any sense of relief. The only thing that seemed to kind of feel a little bit okay was sitting on the doctor's swivel stool and leaning on the edge of the bed. My poor husband looked so dismayed.

Six hours into the pitosin drip; six hours of grueling, intense, horrific pain, they decided to check to see how much I had dilated. When I was in birthing class, they said all moms go through some kind of breaking point during labor. It was hard to imagine not having gone through labor, what that would be like. At that point, I had labored for over 18 hours, and the past six hours had been the most intense pain that I had ever experienced. So when they checked to see how far I had dilated, and told me that I was only at three inches... that was my breaking point. I hadn't cried, nor even complained (other than you know, howling in pain), but I began to heavily weep. The nurses (the saints) who were there tried to comfort me, tell me that I had come so far, and that I was doing so good... but that was it. That was my breaking point. 

I felt another sense of bowel pressure, so I went to the bathroom for what felt like the hundredth time, and I heard my doctor talking to my husband through the bathroom door. She knew I had wanted to go through labor unmediated, but in hushed tones I heard her say "are you sure she doesn't want try some kind of pain intervention?" She sounded worried. My husband sounded worried. I came out of the bathroom and said "what are my options" because I was at my breaking point. They had offered me gas, and I had taken that, but it didn't touch my pain, nor had it touched the anxiety that had taken over with the intense pain. She listed out options, but the only one that sounded reasonable (because it wouldn't impact the baby) was an epidural. I had kind of bucked the idea of utilizing an epidural previously because I knew that it didn't really work for other women in my family, and in general I was really tied to the idea of a natural birth. But the pain I was in wasn't natural. It was medically induced pain. And I needed it to stop.

So I went for the epidural... And it was the best decision ever. Within half-an-hour the pain had become manageable. Within the hour, I was completely numb. I was so numb in fact, I was very little help when the nurses had to turn me and move me around every so often. I felt embarrassed, but I also felt so relieved from the lack of pain, the embarrassment was slight and faded quickly. I'm also glad that I finally relented and did the epidural because I was in labor for 15 + more hours. And fuck being in that kind of pain for that period of time. 

That night, despite having to be re-positioned every couple of hours, I actually got a decent amount of sleep. I watched "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend" on the ipad until I passed out. I woke early the next morning, and both my doctor and my OB were now there. They checked to see how labor was progressing, and promised it would be soon. They kept saying "let us know when you feel an intense pressure because that means she's coming". I never felt the intense pressure. I was still so completely numb that I had no idea when I was even having a contraction.

Around 9AM they realized that she was beginning to crown. Then shortly after they realized that malcum was there (which means the baby pooped, and means that NICU needs to examine the baby shortly after birth to ensure she was fine). Around 9:30 they prepped me to begin pushing. I asked if NICU needed to be there but they assured me that they had plenty of time to call them in. I would be in the final stage of labor for quite some time they said...

Four very easy contractions later, Ahsoka emerged. Let me repeat that because that was less than thirty minutes of pushing. FOUR contractions. I think they expected it to take a couple of hours because my OB was SHOCKED. They had to call NICU after the fact, and they rushed the baby away to examine her (she was fine). I then delivered my placenta, and they asked if I wanted to see it (I did not, but saw it anyways). While they were examining Ahsoka, they stitched me up (only a few level 3 tears, lol). 

My doctor laughed and said that all of our baby turning stretches must have worked because Ahsoka came out exactly in the position they needed her to be in... but upon looking at her umbilical chord, they found it had a perfect knot in it. It's kind of a scary prospect given that she needed that chord to survive in the womb, and who knows when that knot occurred; however, she was in perfect health. I did have to joke about how she had been doing somersaults in the womb for months (she was VERY active most of my pregnancy). 

After they completed their exam, they laid her on my chest. She was perfect and beautiful. She was (and still is) the most beautiful, precious baby I had ever seen. My baby was 20.5 inches long, weighing 8 pounds and 7 ounces. She had a full head of thick black hair, and dark blue eyes. Shortly after they laid her on my chest, they encouraged her to nurse for the first time, and she immediately latched. Watching my perfect little baby nurse for the first time, holding her, looking down at the perfect being we had created; it was a spiritual experience. She was meant to be there with us. After nursing, they handed her to my husband, who had the happiest look on his face. He was in love. I wish we had thought to take pictures in those moments, but the truth is, shortly after that, I began to fade, and went in and out of sleep. It actually took a while before we could move me to recovery because my blood pressure had dropped, and I didn't have any strength. I think we finally got some pictures a few hours later, but the details become very fuzzy to me during that time. But by the next day I had recovered (to a point), and was in good spirits. We had an excellent experience the next couple of days and nights in the hospital. The nurses were amazing and supportive. 

So maybe I have missed a detail here and there. Maybe I'll edit this blog at some point. But that's the story of how Ahsoka came into the world. I will love her unconditionally forever. I actually fell in love with her when she was growing inside of me, but nothing could have prepared me for the love I felt upon seeing her sweet face for the first time. And nothing could have prepared me for the love that continues to grow each day I spend with her. She is the light of my life. Happy due date Ahsoka.