Olivia's Birth Story

When I was planning Liv's birth,  I knew in order to avoid another c-section and have another VBAC, I'd need to avoid as many interventions as possible. For me, that meant avoiding a hospital delivery. Once the "cascade of interventions" begins, the chance of c-section is higher. Around 20 weeks,  I made the switch to my midwife from a local OB. Prenatal visits were awesome; in my home, relaxed, personal. I didn't have to find childcare,  leave my home, etc. All the same tests were performed, like GBS screening, diabetes testing, and bloodwork, so I was confident in the "safety" of it all.

Wednesday,  February 26th, I went into labor while making eggplant parmesan. My neighbor, Maggi, brought over our organic produce we order each week. The box contained an eggplant, and I thought,  "I've heard eggplant parmesan induces labor,  so heck, why not?"  It was about 6pm when everything started. I was cooking and ignoring my contractions,  knowing that if the real deal started, I'd know it. I texted my mom that I was contacting every 5 to 7 minutes but nothing real painful yet. Will went to buy the adaptor needed to connect the shower head to the hose (to fill the tub with). By the time he got home around 7, I was in a lot of pain. I took a shower, and shaved my legs (of course), just in case I was really in labor. The rest is very much a blur. I remember calling my midwife to tell her I was really hurting, and at that point, contractions were coming every 3 to 4 minutes. I was beginning to have to breathe through them. I recall Will calling her back shortly after that, telling her to come. And I remember him calling my mom. She got there first and I wasn't very nice to her. I believe I was entering transition at that point and soft touching was pissing me off, and she kept telling me what to do, how to breathe etc. I don't remember saying anything to her, but I remember pushing her away and waving her off. At that point, everything hurt and everyone annoyed me.

I don't know the time line here, but I labored from 6pm to 8am. The warm water was so soothing. I found it most comfortable to lie on my side with my face near the surface of the water. I remember thinking about Eli so much during this time, and I spent a great deal of it telling him I'm sorry, that I miss him. My bag of waters was bulging, and I asked my midwife to check me. She said I was complete. I thought, "Really! I can push now!" I think I pushed for about 2.5 hours,  although it was such a blur and I wasn't looking at the clock, so much of the timing is based off of what I was told by my mom or husband.  My water broke in the tub, and I felt some shift in Olivia's position. It wasn't long after that that I began to have back pain with my contractions. I asked several times,  "Why is my back hurting so bad?" It was agonizing. Some time later,  my abdomen began to ache with contractions,  over my previous c-section scar. I had told myself and husband that if I was going to attempt a homebirth, that I would transfer at the first sign of danger instead of being stubborn and waiting it out. I had been pushing for so long, and even rested for a while, but she just wasn't moving down like we thought she would. My midwife had me get on all fours and she attempted to turn her, because at that point we suspected she must be posterior,  or sunny side up, facing my front instead of my back. That was excruciating.

At some point, after several contractions with the scar pain,  feeling totally exhausted and unable to keep pushing, I decided to transfer to the hospital. I felt like a failure just announcing my decision. Everyone was expecting me to dig deep inside myself, find some inner strength, and roar my baby out. I couldn't do it. Thoughts floated around in my head, that maybe I was just too weak, my pain tolerance is too low, I just can't do it without an epidural. Will drove me an hour to Tampa General and it took forever to check me in. People were asking me questions during contractions, asking me to sign papers, moving me around...it was miserable. We arrived around 5:30am. Shortly after I was put on the monitor, Liv's heart rate started dropping. No one was in the room except Will and I, and I felt instantly scared. I heard those little beats get slower and slower. I waited for someone to rush in, which only took about 20 seconds. I held my hand out for the oxygen mask. Around 6:30am, a doctor came in to talk to me about the possibility of another VBAC. He said my contractions were weak (I had an IUPC in at this point), my cervix was edematous (turns out, after my water broke, Liv went back up, turned, and my cervix closed slightly,  so then I was pushing against a "lip" of cervix which caused it to swell up) and the baby was having "decels." I held my hand up as he was telling me how pro-VBAC Tampa General is. I said, "I'd honestly rather just go ahead and have a section at this point. I'm worried about her, and I'm not going to risk her safety because I want to be stubborn." He said I was making the right choice and would let them know to get everything started. About an hour later, the began to prep me. I had to drink disgusting Bicitra, have a frigid Hibiclens bath, and then go to the OR to have my spinal and Foley placed. It took them a long time to do my spinal, and I think a resident was practicing on me, because after a while, a guy took over and it was done in 30 seconds. The operating doctor was a woman. She was very nice. I began to cry and asked her if she sews up all her layers. She probably thought I was insane. I asked her if they'd lower the drape so I could watch her come out, and if we could do immediate skin to skin.  She agreed that we could. I I felt them tugging around at my belly, and soon they were in. Sure enough,  Liv was facing up, wedged in my pelvis, with the cord around her neck and her hand next to her face. The doctor mentioned that that my lower uterine segment looked very thin. I knew I felt that scar pain for a reason; I could have ruptured and we both could have died. They lowered the drape as she came out but I was leaning back and couldn't see her until the doctor was holding her up. She looked so beautiful to me. She was born at 8:27am, and weighed 6lb, 11oz.

The next thing I knew was that I could feel everything they were doing to my stomach. Because they hadn't actually begun to close my incision yet, they had to knock me out. I didn't get my skin to skin experience. It seems like I was out for a long time. I dreamed that I was dead. I was in a big, white, empty room. I was alone, but I felt Eli's presence. I told him I had died, and that I would get to see him very shortly. Then I was moving from the room on a stretcher, but it looked like a couch. It wheeled me around for what felt like hours, and then I began to wake up. My vision was so blurry at first. I found myself staring hard at the monitors before I realized what I was looking at. I heard voices tell me to quit touching things, and to leave my pulse ox alone. I began to ask if Olivia was ok, where she was, where was my husband, was she still a girl,  how much did she weigh, etc.

I was finally taken back to recovery where I got to see them bathing my girl. I was in a fog from all the medication I had received. She was given to me (I remember being a bit worried because I was SO groggy) to breastfeed. Luckily,  I didn't have to do anything; she sucked like a high-power vacuum! I was amazed at how much beautiful black hair she had.

I asked for water and they told me no. I asked for ice chips and they told me no. They said I'd throw up. I told them I wouldn't,  my mouth was dry and I needed something. I was told I could rub a wet washcloth around my mouth. My husband got a mountain dew, so I threatened him and drank half the bottle while the nurses were out of my "room." I didn't throw up,  by the way.

Liv nursed forever, all the way back to the postpartum unit, which for some odd reason must have been on the opposite side of the hospital (or it just felt that way, because I was doped up).

Recovery was tough. I was alone the first night,  because Will had to be home with Ben. I couldn't get anything for pain except Toradol in those first 24 hours, and it didn't help much. I asked them to take my Foley out right at 8pm, as well as my IV. I got motrin until 8:30 am and then could finally get Percocet. I could barely pull myself out of bed. I've never been in so much pain. They had to remove some scar tissue from my first c-section, and my incision was quite a bit longer. I also had a lot of swelling from pushing for so long. Friday I began to experience a headache, which got worse as the day went on. It was positional; if I were to lie flat, it went away. If I sat up or stood, it was a throbbing frontal headache. This is called a spinal headache, and it kept me in the hospital an extra day. I thought I was going to need a blood patch, but strong medicine, hydration, and lots of caffeine eventually kicked it.

When my milk came in, I had way too much, which caused me a lot of pain. I was already engorged by day 2. I remember crying in the shower as I was waiting for pain medicine. Everything hurt. The next day,  my nipples were cracked and bleeding from nursing all night. Olivia was tongue-tied and has a high-arching palate. They were able to correct the tongue tie in the hospital,  but the damage had already been done. Nursing was excruciating. The left side was the worst, so I began to pump on that side and continued to nurse on the right. We gave her a bottle of pumped milk first, and then I nursed her on the right side. That system worked pretty well. Once we went home, a friend brought over a nipple shield,  which I used for about a week, along with prescription nipple ointment to heal the damaged areas. We are now nursing wonderfully with no shield.

I just stopped taking Vicodin 2 days ago. I'm able to actually get in and out of bed without crying out now. At one point, Will and my friend Natalie had to lift me into the bed while I screamed. Poor Ben...He was so scared to see mommy like that.

I'm struggling now with why everything happened the way it did. Why couldn't I have her at home? I raised all the money I needed, plus some. I pushed with everything I had. I prayed. Why did I end up being hacked up again? Yes, I was blessed with a beautiful baby girl, and she is healthy, but I was also left with a jagged angry scar across the small thin one that had faded from Eli's birth. In some ways, this birth was healing. It was symbolic to me, that I had her the same way I had Eli. That they reopened his scar to pull her out. But then there's the bitterness. I cry when I see homebirth and waterbirth photos now. I feel like a giant failure. I wanted so badly to hold my baby against my chest as I cried tears of joy. I wanted to have special photos of that amazing moment. The last year has been so confusing. So full of grief and joy mixed together. Somehow I know God will make something beautiful out of this mess of my life....but it's hard to see it now.