August 2, 2017, 4:50pm. My little boy arrived. 7 pounds 12 ounces, 20 inches long. He was perfect. It had been a long time coming to finally be able to hold him in my arms. Our journey to that point had been years in the making, but he was worth the wait.
My entire pregnancy I was considered a “high risk”. Two years prior, at age 24, I suffered a stroke and our attempts to conceive had to be put on hold while I recovered. Almost to the date, one year later I got pregnant. I had to maintain a daily dose of aspirin throughout my pregnancy and at the end my doctor set a date to be induced at 39 weeks pregnant with close monitoring.
It was a Tuesday night at 10pm when my husband and I and my mom went to the hospital to start the process of meeting our boy. I quickly changed into my hospital gown and climbed up on the bed, nervous as ever! And nothing is more surreal than seeing my name on the white board in the room screaming, “The time has come! This baby’s got to come out!”
I received an I.V, the medication to induce and the monitors strapped around my pregnant belly. Seeing my son’s heartbeat had me even more eager to meet him.
Did I get any sleep that night? Hardly! As my husband snored soundly on the couch I tossed and turned and knocked off my monitors and tossed and turned some more. It was a rough night with no strong contractions.
As night turned into early morning and as the nurses changed shifts the contractions started coming more frequently and more intense. My water was broken around 10am and pitocin was started to get my labor moving more swiftly. At 4 centimeters I opted for an epidural (that was the plan all along), and after that kicked in I was able to rest for a few hours until the pain started all over again. My anesthesiologist administered 3 doses of medication to help ease my pain but nothing worked. In other words, my epidural was a dud. So even though I was able to be pain free for a time, my body was saying, you’re going to feel this the whole way.
Between the extra drugs and the pain, remembering each moment goes in and out. My biggest fear was not being able to remember giving birth to my son. During labor I was jolted awake with a heart rate of 170 and not being able to breath. I was having a panic attack. I don’t think I mentally prepared myself for the things that could go wrong during labor, like a faulty epidural and the pain and the drugs clouding my mind. I was so fearful.
Before I knew it it was 4:15pm and I was 10 centimeters dilated. My doctor had only made a few appearances and when the nurse told him I was ready he strolled in, took a look and said, “Nah, she’s not ready yet.” And he walked out. I remember saying, “Where is he going?” Very loudly! And thinking he was leaving for hours and I would be pregnant forever! But lo and behold he came back.
Pushing out that little baby was definitely something I wasn’t quite prepared for either. I took no classes before hand thinking, I’ve got this. Push with your butt not your head. But honestly between the pain and the drugs my mind was far from any rational thoughts. My mom kept reminding me of that little phrase though. So try as I might I attempted again and again to take the pressure off my head and neck.
Pushing seemed to go on forever, but in reality I maybe pushed 10 times for 25 minutes. I could not imagine doing that for hours, so kudos to those strong mamas! My doctor definitely helped me out along the way, pushing my baby’s head like a pimple right out. Once his head was out my doctor freed his shoulders with one swift pull and the rest followed. It was the weirdest sensation.
Crew Lawrence was finally in my arms! I never thought the day would come. He was perfect.
The doctor gave me a few shots of local anesthetic for some stitches but I didn’t have a care in the world, my boy was finally with me and my husband! Unfortunately my story does not end there. After a room change and another nurse shift, nearly three hours later I began experiencing painful cramps. My nurse kept saying it’s normal over and over again. We had my in-laws visit, the pain intensified. We had my family come in and I’ll never forget my sister saying, “I knew something wasn’t right when I walked in the room and no one was holding Crew.” That makes me the saddest about this experience. But my life was at stake and no one knew that yet.
I called out in pain and pushed my alarm and my nurse came running in. She pulled down my sheets and I was sitting in a pool of blood. At that moment I’ve never been more scared, not even when I had my stroke.
The flurry of nurses that rushed in my room is a scene I’ll never forget. I was laid flat and punched in the stomach. I could feel more blood come out. All I could do was scream out and stare up at my husband. I remember saying, “Am I going to die?” I was sure this had to be it.
I lost around 1 liter of blood that night with my hemorrhage. My skin pail and my body weak. But my baby was healthy, I was healing. These moments I’ll never forget. I thank God for the quick thinking of the nursing staff and the life He spared that night. And the new life I welcomed into the world.
Today Crew is a strong & sturdy 18 pound seven month old. He is brave and sweet and has my heart.
Some advice I have for labor & delivery; don’t be afraid to ask lots of questions and don’t be afraid to take control. This is your experience and journey bringing your little one into the world.
And the best advice I have for newborns comes from my sister: “When in doubt, nipple out.” Those first few weeks with a newborn can be rough. But I was able to soothe each cry with breastfeeding. Babies that small don’t have any kind of schedule yet and have growth spurts often. I found that nursing was usually always the answer.
-Kirstin Valentine-
Lets thank her for sharing her wonderful story with us ladies.....
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