Infertile to Mother - Birth Story (Graphic)

It all began on early Tuesday morning, October 1st.

I woke up at three in the morning for no reason. I was having dreams of being in labor all night, and suddenly, I was awake. So, I rolled out of bed and went to the restroom, where I hung out sitting on the edge of the bathtub, checking facebook since I couldn't go back to sleep. I had all of this energy and nothing to do with it on a Tuesday morning. So, I convinced myself to go back to bed, since I had to work in a few hours, and I would be more miserable than I would have been the day before if I was running on crap sleep. And so, I went back to bed at around four in the morning.

At six, my husband woke up and got ready for work. When he was done, I got out of bed again to use the restroom, since when one is nine months pregnant, you pee CONSTANTLY. When I sat down on the potty, I was peeing...except...I wasn't peeing. This didn't click until I actually started peeing. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, and there was no way to figure it out, since I was on the toilet. When I got up, nothing else came out, so I went back to bed.

Five minutes later, I had to go to the bathroom again. This time, I went into the restroom, sat down, waited, and sure enough, there was another gush. This time, I managed to "catch" some on toilet paper. Amniotic fluid doesn't smell like urine. It sometimes smells sweet or like nothing at all. So, I smelled it, which is gross, but whatever. It didn't smell like urine. I got up off the toilet and realized that there were white specks in it, which was curious. So, I did the final test. I stood and squatted. Squat. More fluid. Everywhere. Well, that explained that.

Just as my husband was packing up to leave for work, I called down to him that my water broke, and he's not going anywhere today. He was very calm about this. I then called my OB, who told me that I couldn't labor at home, and that I had to go to the hospital right away since I tested positive for group B strep. This is an infection that does nothing to people who have it. Most of the time, they don't even know they have it. It sticks around in the bowels and vaginal area and does nothing. But, when you are going to have a baby, and you have group B, the infection can pass on to the baby and make the baby sick. So, to combat this, you have to be given antibiotics round the clock, every four hours during labor. The longer I waited, the more of a risk there was that the baby would get sick.

So, I made some eggs, bacon and toast knowing that once I got into the hospital, I'd not be allowed to eat. Then, I packed up the rest of the hospital bag, got our stuff together and we went to the hospital. So long for laboring at home. Also, this is when I begin to realize that my birthing plan was going to go right out the window. I wasn't have any contractions at all. Maybe just some cramping on the way to the hospital, but no contractions.

Cut the boring stuff, I got there, they confirmed that my water had broken, they checked baby's position then moved me to labor and delivery. Contractions still hadn't started, and the doctor told me that because it's been four hours since my water broke, she wanted to start me on pitocin to avoid infection and get labor going. I tried my best to convince her otherwise, and she let me have another hour bouncing on my birthing ball and laboring before I had to bite the bullet and start the pitocin. I was a little disappointed by this, knowing that it opens the doors to a crap ton of other interventions, but I was only 2.5 cm dilated, and I was getting no where quickly.

After a couple of hours on pitocin with back-to-back double and triple peak contractions, they checked me again. I was still only 2.5 cm, but 100% effaced. As much as I was told that it was the effacement that counted, I was upset and tired. They upped my pitocin dosage and things got real then. I asked for an IV drug to help with the pain. It was called Saldal (sp?), and it was sort of like a twilight drug. I was conscious, I could feel the pain of the contractions, but I just didn't care. I went into nappy land for about a half hour and then the drug started to wear off. It took another fifteen more minutes and the medicine was pretty much completely out of my system. It was supposed to last an hour and a half to two hours, but my body metabolized it quicker than they thought. I realized then that I didn't want to keep asking for Saldal because I was so disconnected from the experience that I didn't feel apart of it.

So, I asked for the epidural, since all of my contractions at this point where triple peak. I am not mad at myself for asking for it either. I had been laboring from about 7:30 to 2:30 at this point, most of it without medication, and most of it double and triple peak contractions. The epidural gave me a break from all that. The doctors were impressed that I didn't even wince at the pain of getting the epidural either, and the doctor assured me that I had been very brave so far, and she was impressed with my composure.

Two hours after the epidural was placed, I went from 2 cm to 9 cm. So, it was around 4:30 or 5:30 in the evening at this time. I had to wait to push because my doctor was with the woman next door, who was pushing and having some issues. So, I lazily waited around another hour or so before the doctor returned to check me and confirm that I could start pushing.

And this is where my story takes an unexpected turn.

I was pushing and pushing, but nothing was happening. They kept asking if I felt the urge to push, but I didn't. I felt pressure, and I felt something happening, but I didn't ever feel a distinct urge to push. I did feel a pain in my left side, despite the epidural, and it was a consistent pain, it didn't come and go like the contractions. They turned my epidural down to help me with pushing, but despite that, I still couldn't manage. I asked for the mirror to see if I could watch my progress to help me know if I was pushing correctly, but all I saw was swollen lady bits. No crowning. Nothing. I started to get discouraged then, and the pain was unbearable and never-ending due to whatever was happening on my side. Everyone was encouraging me and telling me that I was "doing it" when I was pushing and to "get mad" but...I knew I wasn't doing anything.

This is when the doctor told me that the baby had his head tilted and it was stuck on the lip of my cervix. She suggested I try pushing through it for a little while, because if I could get him over, then he'd come quickly. “A little while” turned into two hours of back-to-back pushing and unmedicated contractions. At the end of two hours, I’ve still not made any progress, and I was broken, tired and feeling defeated. I was upset, my husband was upset, and the doctor didn’t look too happy about the matter either. I started to beg for them to turn my epidural back on, that I couldn’t take any more and was too tired to push. I needed a break. I needed my son, and he just wasn’t coming on his own.

I asked for a c-section. I couldn’t believe I was asking for one, when all I wanted to do was avoid it. But, I knew from the moment they started me on pitocin that there was a chance that it would happen. And, at this point, I just couldn’t bear to push anymore when nothing was happening. The doctor was very patient. I knew she wanted to suggest the c-section an hour ago, but she held off because she knew how much having a vaginal birth meant to me. But, my heart rate was going through the roof, and typically, what follows next would be fetal distress. A c-section would be best, before it was too late and became an emergency.

They turned my epidural back on, and the contractions faded away. I took this time to assure my husband that I was feeling better now that I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He was not-so-happy that now I had to have surgery, but being a former EMT, he knew that it was the next rational step when my heart rate was sky-rocketing. Luckily, they were able to get us into the OR right away, and before I knew it, we were off.

They gave me the “c-section dose” of the epidural and my body went numb. I was prepped as my husband got into his scrubs in some other room. They poked me to make sure the epidural was working correctly, then hooked me up to all sorts of machines. B returned and sat by my side as the operation took place. There was a moment when I puked all over the place, emptying my already empty stomach. That was not glorious at all.

In less than twenty minutes, my son was born. He didn’t cry at first. He didn’t cry for a good minute or so. They had to stimulate him to breathe, and when he did, and I heart those wails of life, my heart lurched in my chest. In that single moment, I knew that my whole infertility journey was worth all the pain, suffering and angst. In each one of my son’s cries, with each new breath of life that he sucked in, my whole world changed and was given a whole new meaning. I listened to that crying with a smile on my face, ignoring the fact that I was covered in vomit, exhausted, and went through seventeen hours of laboring for this one moment.

It wasn’t long until they called B over to take pictures and get a good look at his son. When they got the baby’s breathing under control, they brought me over to me so I could see him. I saw my heart in the hands of that nurse, who lowered his little face to mine so I could kiss him and tell him I loved him. He was no longer crying at this time, just staring at the world in wonder, looking me right in my eyes as I called him by his name for the first time: Kaiden.

Though my bean journey was long, painful, depressing, angering, annoying, defeating, and exhausting, I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. All of my failures along the way are exactly what lead me to my son. My Kaiden. My whole world. My whole heart. My everything.