While we wait for plans and paperwork to be finalized at our new place, I decided to add some content that I thought you all might find interesting but unrelated to the farm. So, I bring to you my 7 (so far) birth stories, each unique and important to me. I will share one at a time in their birth order so stay tuned if you would like to read the rest. I will not be sparing any details, especially for my more recent births so if that scares you feel free to come back when I post homesteading material. So, without further ado, the birth story of baby #1!
Leading up to her due date, I was anxious and done being pregnant. I hated all the waiting. On her due date, (June 20th, 2015) I made Sam pack our bags and we sat in the parking lot of the low-income hospital for an hour, with me insisting that I wouldn’t leave until I had my baby. Eventually, he convinced me to go home to our small apartment in Cincinnati. On the 22nd I had a stress-test ultrasound scheduled because I was two days past my due date. During that ultrasound the tech said they needed to consult a doctor about the results. We waited in the hallway all nerves. The doctor finally came back and told us that they thought I ‘might’ be low on fluid and that they recommended immediate induction. I didn’t even leave, they gave me a hospital bracelet and sent me to L&D.
They wanted to start a slow induction, so they started with Cervidil (a ‘band aid’ placed on the cervix to soften it to start labor) around 330pm. They told me this would work through the evening and that I would probably be ready for labor the next day. They also took a urine sample, which was routine at this low-income hospital. By 6pm I was having hard contractions close together, since things seemed to be progressing, they switched me to a low dose of Pitocin.
The contractions continued to come hard and close together. And after a contraction that lasted 45 minutes with no breaks, I requested an epidural. My mom drove from Northern Michigan to the hospital in Cincinnati and arrived shortly after they moved us to a delivery room. My contractions continued to be close together. They decided to give me Brethine shots in my thighs every half hour to try to slow them down. They broke my water and continued to monitor me in the hospital bed.
After the afternoon and evening of contractions I had only progressed to 4 cm dilated. They told me that they were worried about her heart rate and that we would need to proceed with a c-section. So, we listened. They prepped for surgery and wheeled me into an operating room. My arms were strapped down and an anesthesiologist talked to me. The surgeon said that while they got my body ready and when they started the incision it would probably feel like an elephant was sitting on my chest, but I shouldn’t feel any pain. He was right. At exactly midnight I heard her cry and she was shown to me over the white sheet curtain. As soon as I saw her, they moved her to the warming table. Tears ran down my face, and I whispered repeatedly that I was so glad she was here. The technicians asked me if I was in any pain and I said no, I was just relieved that she was okay. She continued to scream until Sam went over to her. He spoke to her, with the same voice that spoke to her in my belly, and the operating room went quiet as she calmed to the sound of his voice. She was 7lbs 13.9oz, 20 inches long. They put me back together and prepared to move me from the table to the gurney. They told me what they were going to do and so I moved over onto the gurney. The nurses looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Are you okay? You aren’t supposed to be able to do that.”
When they took us back to the pre-op room, they informed us that my urine sample had tested positive for opiates and confiscated her diaper. Procedure calls for them to examine her bowel movements and do frequent checks on her for drug withdrawals. We were reeling and confused, I had never even seen an opiate! Between the epidural, the birth hormones, the other stress I started shaking uncontrollably. Some of the nurses assured me that that was a common side effect. After moving us to a recovery room, Sam laid down to sleep some. I was still quite sedated and confused, and instead of waking Sam, they had me sign consent forms for procedures that I originally didn’t want done. But I wanted to have a moment of peace with my baby to process all that had happened, so I signed the papers without reading them fully. Within the hour, a stern nurse informed me that she had to establish breastfeeding before the shift change. She told me to stop shaking, grabbed my breast and shoved it into my baby’s mouth.
Much of my experience was a blur. There were no complications with her health or mine. We were recovering well and ahead of schedule. I was walking around, both of us were using the bathroom normally, and she was nursing like a champ. However, on one evening, while I was sleeping, they took her to the nursery and gave her formula (I also found out later, at her first doctors visit, that they also gave her a vaccination that I had originally asked to delay). When I woke up I had them bring her back and I asked why they took her to begin with. They said it was one of the forms I had signed. This was not how I had hoped our first days together would be. They continued to confiscate her diapers while we tried to take care of our new baby. They evaluated her frequently to rule out the withdrawals. We wracked our brains over what could be showing up on this test when I had never taken or seen opiates in my life. We came to the one and only conclusion. One of my pregnancy cravings had been everything bagels with poppy seeds. A quick Google search will tell you that large amounts of poppy seeds can show up on urine screenings, so we asked them to check and see if that could be what the test found.
Finally on the 3rd day of no answers, a lactation consultant asked us why we hadn’t been discharged yet, we had no idea why. I cried to her saying that I hadn’t even taken Tylenol or drank any caffeine during my pregnancy, I wouldn’t even know how to use opiates. She said that we were recovering exceptionally and we should have been released the day after she was born as soon as I had gone to the bathroom on my own and she had nursed successfully. Puzzled, she said she would look into it for us. She came back and said that they had ruled out the opiates as food related the day before but had forgotten to tell us. We signed all the discharge paperwork as quickly as possible, and we left the hospital practically running. After that day I resolved to never have another experience like that again.
Her birth became one of the most formative experiences of my life. Other than the obvious reasons, making me a mother and permanently altering my brain chemistry, I learned so much about life and things that I didn’t realize mattered to me. I didn’t know how to ask questions or advocate for myself, and this experience changed that for me. I don’t share this story to scare new moms, or to get sympathy. I share this story to give everyone permission to stand your ground with doctors and nurses (To be clear, there are many wonderful nurses and doctors in the field, however the luck of the draw can be scary). I also want to encourage every mother to consider all options without being concerned about what society pushes to us as ‘normal’. These types of birth stories are common, that doesn’t make them normal or acceptable. Your birth is a meaningful transition into the person you become and how you raise your children. It is okay for you to care how that happens. Birth can be unpredictable and it still might not happen how you hope or plan. But there could be moments that could drastically change the outcome of your birth if you are willing to advocate for yourself.
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