Push! Push! Push!

The words I thought I would be hearing right before meeting my bundle of joy, but it was in fact quite different.

As a first-time mom, I had this idea of what having my first baby would be like. Not just the raising part although I had often daydreamed of that as well, but more of what the delivery would be like.

I wrote up my birth plan with a list of wants such as having an all-natural birth, being able to wear a bra through labor and delivery, getting immediate skin to skin, and lastly being able to breastfeed immediately or at least pump within the golden hour. Seemed pretty straight forward and simple, right? The hospital I was delivering at offered a labor and delivery class along with a breastfeeding class.; both of which I took. I also had a lot of advice from friends and family. With that being said, I felt very confident going into it all as I had good resources available to me. Which says a lot for me, because I am usually one to over think things. However, for me, I was so calm and so ready for this next chapter of our lives.

My pregnancy was overall a simple one.

I had a very basic first trimester with nausea and fatigue, but nothing unbearable.

During the beginning of my second trimester I had a bit of a scare with quite an amount of unusual bleeding due to too much stress, and from pushing myself too hard. This world of motherhood was new to me as I have always been the independent type, and now I was learning that I had to take it easier for the safety of our little one.

As time went on, we found out we were having a little boy. This was a shock to both my husband and I, because most of the firstborn in each of our families have been girls. Shortly after, we then found out that our little one was also posterior.  Posterior meaning the back of the baby’s skull is in the back of the pelvis and the baby is facing upwards. Simple though, right? Babies toss and turn all the time, and only being in the second trimester I had a ton of time for baby to get in the right position. At around twenty-two weeks I ended up leaving work early because I was experiencing very bad back pain. This resulted in my husband and I taking a trip to the hospital. We discovered I was having small contractions and we were in fear that I could be delivering a premature baby. Therefore, from that point on I remained at work for only two more weeks and then took the rest of my pregnancy easy.

My due date came and went which I wasn’t too worried about considering I had heard from many others that it is natural for the first to come late and for it to be the longest labor. The concern I was having was that I was having extreme pain every night. Not just that uncomfortable toss and turning kind of pain, but rather the hands and knees contraction feeling kind of pain. So my husband took me into the hospital as a precautionary.

I was indeed having contractions, however, they weren’t close enough so they sent me home. The following night I was groaning very loudly in pain, again on all fours, and every few minutes. Only this time I refused to go to the hospital in fear of it not being actual labor once again. I was tired of being poked and prodded and was just ready to have our baby by this point.

To my surprise, it was actual labor. We got to the hospital at around four in the morning as I was wheeled up to triage. They greeted me with a hospital gown and said to completely undress. There they said my contractions were close together that they would be keeping me. They advised me to walk around the halls if I planned on having an all-natural birth. Even though it was extremely painful, and others were making laps around me.

Right there is when I felt like something wasn’t right, but labor wasn’t meant to be easy. Soon after they brought me to my labor and delivery room. It was a huge room, and I was ready to settle in to start the process. It was about seven in the morning at this point and a shift change was just about to happen. What this meant for me is that the doctor who greeted us upon arrival would shortly be leaving and the new Obstetric doctor would be taking his place. I felt positive because the first doctor upon my arrival I had only met once during my pregnancy, and doctor replacing him I had met a few times. However, that is when things started to take a turn and I felt the birth plan I had given them had been tossed out the window. One of the two things I wanted the absolute most was an all-natural birth second to immediate skin to skin. Neither of which I would be getting; I just didn’t know that yet.

The Obstetric doctor came in and immediately wanted to break my water. To me, this had seemed to be fine, because I have heard of plenty of people having theirs broken. However, shortly after they wanted to put me on Pitocin. This is the point at which being naive and new to the experience of childbirth played its part. I just assumed when having a baby my water would break and I would just go into labor. But now my water was being broken and they wanted to jump-start my labor with Pitocin. I just figured the Obstetric doctor had mine and baby’s best interest in mind as he put it “this will get things speeding along”, but nothing was speedy about it. I was forty-eight hours sleep deprived beforehand from all the back pain I was experiencing, and after being admitted I was laboring for an extensive amount of hours making no progression past 4cm of dilation. I felt extremely defeated, exhausted, and hungry. Aside from that all I kept getting asked every thirty minutes was if I wanted an epidural. Which in the beginning I informed them I did not want unless I asked. All the while I was also constantly reminded that if I didn’t progress I would need a c-section. They said it so much so, that my husband had to actually pull the nurses aside into the hallway and ask them to refrain from bringing up a c-section unless it was set in stone ordeal. At this point, I felt like all my wishes were being denied. My dignity went out the window because I was not allowed to wear a bra in labor and delivery, and every few hours both the nurse and the doctor were shoving their hand up my “hoo-ha”. I felt like the concern for me and baby was not a top priority as the nurse would tell the doctor how she had just checked me, and the doctor insisted that he check me again because he was the doctor. All I kept thinking was how unnecessary it was to be violated that much after they had broken my water as it was also very unsanitary to keep doing so.

The only moment I felt as if someone was listening was after the doctor had remarked once again about a c-section. I reiterated once more how I did not want one and that I wanted an all-natural birth. I felt as if he was pushing for it instead of a reasonable explanation. I was doing my part in laboring and expressed I wanted to do everything I could to deliver him naturally. Instead, I was consistently bombarded with the idea of a c-section.  My nurse began to share with me her childbirth experience and told me of how she did not dilate in full until she was given an epidural to which she completely dilated almost instantaneously. She added that if I didn’t receive an epidural now than they would just have to do a spinal tap for the c-section anyways. Neither way would be natural. However, if I did want a vaginal birth, she highly recommended trying the Epidural. After laboring for a very rough 20 hours, I finally received the epidural; not because I wanted it, but rather I felt obligated to try something new instead of succumbing to the fate of a C-Section. As the procedure was finished and the medication was administered, I finally felt a sense of release. No pain, no suffering. Just my husband and I calm in the room. So calm that the nurses insisted I take a nap. Before I knew it, they were back in the room checking me an hour later. Completely dilated and ready to push. My anxiety swooped in and it finally hit me. I was about to have a baby, soon and in my arms! I was going to possibly feel the pain of motherhood everyone talked about and go through this life-changing moment. Experiencing childbirth something I had never experienced before, and something I didn’t think id have the chance of getting at all until I finally dilated all the way.

By now the epidural complete wore off, a sudden surge of pain was once again felt throughout my entire body. This annoyed me as I now had to stay confined to the bed due to having the epidural, all of which was far from my plan. We tried two positions. The hand bars and pulling a towel on the overhead bar. I was told by the nurse countless times that she didn’t think I was pushing right, only to be confirmed by a doctor later that I was pushing just fine. I had only thought of all-natural positions since I was planning to labor without the epidural. The nurse asked if I wanted to push any other way to which I told her I was not familiar with any bedbound position. She proceeded to have me continue to push in the only two ways she insisted before. An hour passed and at this point, our son released meconium inside me. I began to worry for our son’s health as I knew it was dangerous for him if he was to stay in the birth canal long after that. The nurse calmly informed that he would now have to be accessed by the NICU team immediately after birth. More frustration rose in me. I now continued to push passionately for two more hours. Something did not feel right, I just kept having the urge to keep pushing and pushing. The nurse then wanted me to take my legs down out of the stirrups so she could get the doctor. I expressed that I couldn’t bring my legs down as I was in so much pain and still felt the urge to push. She was firm and told me I couldn’t have them up because I couldn’t push while she was out of the room. She then proceeded to force my legs down mid contraction. I became paralyzed with pain. That was the last thing I remember before my body went into shock. Later, upon my request, my husband shared with me that I was screaming bloody murder. Saying things such as “I can’t take this anymore”, “I want it”, “get this baby out”, and screaming frantically. All words I did not mean as I still can’t recall ever saying any of it. Our room was rushed with a team of nurses and doctors that now crowded the room. We went from one careless nurse to a sea of white coats asking what seemed to be a thousand questions. I recall my husband asking if he could sign for me because I really wasn’t all with it. Then I finally came to and had a bunch of nurses by my bedside and my nurse waving paperwork in my face to sign for the Caesarian. I was apprehensive as so much was fluttering through my mind such as is this what I really want, will my child be okay, aside from the fact that I couldn’t even write. I felt pushed to sign. So, I did.

I felt so faint as if I was going to pass out. I had no more strength left in me and yet I was being wheeled back to the Operating room where I was to be the strongest I have ever been. Prior to this when my body had gone into shock the anesthesiologist had upped my epidural again, and my husband had changed into scrubs. Approaching the Operating room, they had told my husband they would have to prep me, and that he would have to wait outside of the room until they came to get him. I, never having surgery in my life, someone terrified of all things blood, completely vulnerable, and not have been separated from my husband from this entire journey until now was completely petrified. I called out to the nurses and doctor “He will be in there with me, right?” They confirmed for me but still, I was shaking. I followed by saying, “I want my husband to be able to do immediate skin to skin”.  I remember the anesthesiologist telling me I would feel a poke above. On my shoulder and then lower and lower and to let her know if I felt anything. I confirmed I was numb. And I felt it body and soul. My pride ripped away. She did inform me that usually they tie the patient’s hands down as a precautionary but that she wouldn’t for me. I felt a little relieved as the bed already shaped and felt like a cross a spot for my head two long boards for my arms. She then asked if I wanted blankets for my arms and head as I shook uncontrollably. I told her yes and to pack the one around my head tight as I didn’t want to hear what the doctor said as he cut me open.

My husband had then joined my side. That sweet face, finally, someone who worried just as much as I for our son’s life. He held my hand as I felt a weird tugging sensation, and then pressure like an elephant was sitting on my chest very hard to breathe. I didn’t hear his cry. No baby raised over the curtain for me to see, and in that instance, I panicked until…. We heard him cry. My husband and I looked at each other and tears streamed down our faces. “That’s our baby”, I said. Following “does he have a lot of hair” the same question I asked while pushing. I was so eager to meet and hold him. Finally, someone from NICU brought him over. He was already clothed in a diaper, blanket, and hat. So far from the experience I thought of pushing him out and having my little naked baby put upon my chest, but there he was our child born at 2:56 in the morning. I turned to my left a little holding on to him with my left hand for just a glimpse when the anesthesiologist to my right said “smile!” and captured a picture I will truly hold dear for the entirety of my life. The first moment I was able to meet my son. Immediately after My husband was told to leave with my son. I laid there empty. Trying to process what all just happened. Feeling so cold, alone, Empty… so empty. A uterus which once carried my child was just cut opened and in an instance a child no more. Not in my arms for the first time I was just me alone after nine months, after twenty-four hours of labor. Just being sewn up waiting for it to be over to be reunited with my child and my loving husband.

There is a happy ending although unlike the ones you typically hear; stories of convenience and ease. Not that of the baby was healthy, and I was healthy, so all was okay; but rather that we were reunited and never separated again. Still out of it from all the medication, but I was reunited at last. I held him so close and breastfed within the golden hour. Something I wanted so bad and I was able to get and for that I felt so lucky. The story obviously doesn’t stop there. We had our hospital stay, we had many visitors, we had our first day back home, and I had a long 6-week recovery. The things that aren’t as easily discussed was my son’s medical conditions following, my severe PTSD after, and the postpartum anxiety and depression I suffer from. For me, it wasn’t just a process, rather a journey and continues to be a journey we work through together as a family every day since. This is why I share my story in hopes I resonate with someone who may need it. Whether being in a similar situation, pregnant wanting to know possibilities, or educating people on how it isn’t “the easy way out”. Because the truth of it all is even though that may have been the most terrifying yet rewarding day of my life, I would never trade what I have been through because now I can take those experiences and help other people in whichever way they may need it. With this being Cesarean Awareness Month I write to you in sincerity that we can make a change in reducing preventable cesareans by doing our research. Because honestly, I was not prepared, I was terrified of having a c-section therefore in my mind I wouldn’t have one. When in all actuality had I not been induced, and if my Obstetric doctor would have given me the option to flip my son during labor which he then told me he wouldn’t have done at my 6-week check-up or had I prepared myself for the option of having a c-section in the first place the outcome could have been very different. But all I know is that I am very proud of my husband who was so strong and stable through an experience that will bond us forever, I am so proud of my body for all it had been through, and I am proud of my son and I as we are so much stronger and so much more connected for all we had been through.