Isaiah Dylan was born! FINALLY!
Horrific but exciting birth story to follow! As well as pics!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Baby Isaiah's Birth
To start off, if you are expecting to hear about a UC turned tragic, this is the wrong story to read. And if you are thinking of a hospital horror story, you would be wrong as well. This is a story that is horrific, yes; but also funny, and totally turned out the way it had to, as there was no way around it.
Around 36 wks my blood pressure began to rise. However it was "stable" at a "borderline" high. This was my one and only real sign of something being wrong. And even my shadow OB was not overly concerned, we were just watching carefully.
Sunday I developed a headache that would not go away. My signal that something was not right. So after checking my B/P and seeing that it had spiked to 210/101, I knew things were going downhill. I carefully rested that night and called my OB first thing Monday morning.
With one look at my B/P, my OB sent me to the hospital for an induction. I had delivered every one of my other children at home, and had never been in the hospital, so this was not an easy decision to agree with. But, after having done some research on inductions the night before (because somehow, I just knew this was going to come up), I decided to follow through and at least find out what she was willing to offer. Knowing that I could walk out at any time.
So, after picking up my Hubby from work, we headed to the hospital.
Arriving at the hospital at 1pm Monday, we immediately went to L&D where we were met with the standard paperwork.
Here my story begins.
Filling out the first form, I read the small print on the back, with the clause of "General Consent". My first "battle". I marked out the "General Consent" clause; hand wrote "I do NOT give general consent" and handed all the paper work back to the nurse. She read what I wrote, rolled her eyes, and made her way to inform the others that "one of those" had arrived!
We quickly made a name for ourselves, one that will probably not be forgotten in a long time.
We were shown to my room and I was instructed to change into a gown, crawl into bed and she would be back to start the IV. To which I told her I would wear what I had on and be perfectly fine. She stammered and stuttered. But finally, hesitantly, "agreed" to "let" me. Then she said she would also bring more consent forms for me to sign.
My Hubby and I just laughed. It was going to be a good day!
Coming back in, she brought a handful of forms, and explained each one. We were to sign and date them, and then the OB would be coming in. She left again to gather the IV supplies while my Hubby and I carefully read the forms, word for word.
The first "consent" was for the OB to provide "basic" care and "routine procedures"...Oh, and a c/s "if it becomes necessary". To which we said "no". Going down the form, we marked all of the "consents" with a "no" and signed the bottom, as well as wrote, "I do not give 'general consent'". This totally threw the nurse off, and she did not know what to do. She said, "I will insert your IV now", and I said, "I would like a hep-lock instead" very nicely as I smiled at her. Slightly flustered, she agreed and then left the room to re-gather needed supplies.
Her patience was wearing thin, and I could hear her talking about us in the hall with the other nurses. We were going to be trouble.
After she inserted my hep-lock, she started to collect our paperwork. But when she realized that we refused all general consent, she said she would have to find the OB before she did anything. This is where the real fun began.
A very short while later the OB came into the room. Now, having seen this OB my entire pgcy, I was still unsure of how things would go. But it actually went much smoother than I had anticipated. I just told her that I would not give a general consent, but would consent to specific things as we went along. And she, not being a hospital employee, was OK with that.
She asked me what I expected, and what I wanted. We discussed what options I had and what I would allow, and decided that we would draw blood, and then start on a low dose of Pit, expecting an easy accomplishment of our goal, Baby out.
However, the nurse was not as accommodating. She refused to draw the blood or start the Pit before calling the supervisor, since we refused to sign a consent form. So we waited again. And finally the supervisor came.
After spending a little time talking to us, she tried to convince me that signing the general consents would NOT be giving up my rights and such, but finally relented and allowed me to hand write my own, very specific consent form. This was better than I had anticipated. I hand wrote very specific consent forms, stating exactly what I would allow to be done and what I did NOT consent to.
I would consent to a pit induction, I would consent to EXTERNAL monitoring, I would consent to low dose IV fluids, I would consent to blood draws.
I would NOT consent to internal monitoring, I would NOT consent to remaining lying down, I would NOT consent to an epidural, I would NOT consent to a c/s, I would NOT consent to my baby being removed from my room-at all-ever-for any reason. And in the event of my incapacitation, my Hubby had my authority to make the consents for me.
From there it began.
After taking a full hour to "consent" to treatment, my journey began, at 2:15 pm.
Pit was started at "2", to be raised by "2" every half hour, to "6". I began at 3&50%. Contractions started quickly, feeling like mild b/h. By 4pm, the OB came to check me and found only 4&60%. This surprised us both, since I was birthing number 9 and always had short labors. I consented to having her break my water and taking the Pit to "8". The contractions were somewhat intense, but easily manageable.
At this point the OB came in very worried because my labs had come back, and I was in Severe Pre-E with HELLP. Suddenly, my very life was on the line (I had shown no symptoms other than high B/P). And the OB was convinced I was about to seize and die. We needed to get the baby out, NOW, and start me on magnesium sulfate.
However, MS, does not "cure" this, only "possibly" prevents seizures as well as makes you as sick as a dog and lethargic. So, because it did not "cure" my problem and we were in the middle of induction, I told her no, I would not do MS, but we could continue with having the baby (the "cure"). She was not overly pleased, but willing to permit me.
Did I mention that I questioned everything and asked why for every "suggestion" and an explanation for every activity? The nurse was thrown out of whack so many times because she just did not have any answers for some of my questions. (Like, what affect does the Pit have on the baby? Or What liver enzymes are normal and how far off are mine from that normal frame?) They were so used to people obeying that they just did not know what to do with me.
Around 6pm my contractions began to be continuous with no down time (over stimulated uterus) and intense, though I could still walk and talk through them with no problems at all. The OB said to turn the Pit off for a while. However once the Pit was off, my contractions did not stop, but continued to increase (only, at a normal "wave" rate). The Pit, used properly, actually started my own labor. However, I was only 4&75% at this time.
During all this time, I had to have my B/P monitored every half hour. The "contractions" of the B/P cuff hurt worse than any of the uterine contractions I was having. And, to the dismay of my nurse, I continued to take the cuff off all the time, only to return it just before the "scheduled" B/P time. My OB OK’ed this.
My own labor picked up quickly and by 8pm I was breathing through contractions (this is the point where I would find "my spot" and I just knew I was really close) but when the OB checked me I had no change at all. I was shocked. She was shocked. I should have "gone" way before now, and it was already six hours in, and we had not made hardly any progress at all. She asked if she could restart the Pit, to which I told her no. If the contractions were increasing, there was no need to add Pit to increase them.
The contractions continued and I stood to labor; again, against what my nurse "insisted" I do. I relaxed during contractions to allow Baby to descend and the cervix to open. I would squat during contractions (about every 2 minutes still) and felt a bit pushy when I did. But I always messed up the monitors, which sent off the alarm bells, and sent the nurse running. She would re-adjust them and we would continue.
A quarter to 9pm Baby's heart began to decel during contractions (not "dangerously" so IMO). However, they would quickly recover. Contractions began coming 1.5 minutes apart, and became very intense at this time. This is how normal transition contractions were, and I had to concentrate and breathe through each one. The nurse was insisting that I stay lying down on my left side because of Baby's decels. But I told her I would not, because it doubled the pain and intensity and made them unmanageable. This flustered her so much, but she just kept insisting.
I crawled back on the bed for the B/P check just before nine and suddenly realized that I was totally exhausted. So (although I could not lie on my left side, I did stay on the bed from that point). I raised the bed to a high sitting position and lay back between contractions. Shortly after this, I began to rest between them, which saved me, because they became so intense with me sitting/reclining, that they registered about a 9 on a 1-10 pain scale. And at this point, all I could do was to ride them out and breathe through the intensity. However, with them coming every 90 seconds and lasting about 75, I did not have much "rest" time. As they were intensifying, I began to think of getting an epidural. My strength was suddenly gone and I felt like Baby was not going to come out.
The OB came to check in on me about 9:45pm. She checked me and although I was 95%, I was only a 6-7. I was floored. I was tired. I was ready to quit. She insisted that we had to get the baby out and asked if we would consent to a c/s. I said no. So she asked to start the Pit again. I agreed, but only if I got an epidural, because if I could not handle what I had, I just knew I would not be able to handle it with the Pit added on.
This necessitated my Hubby rewriting the consent form to consent to the epidural. The OB sent for the anesthesia person, and walked out the door. The first contraction that I had as she stepped out, I suddenly began to bear down, and the on 1-10 scale, it suddenly became a 12.
The nurse, standing beside the bed, staring at the monitors (of course), asks me if I was bearing down. To which I did not respond, because, duh! I was in the middle of pushing. The contraction ended, and all I could do was to catch my breath. Another contraction came almost immediately and I began to push again. To which the nurse, AGAIN, asked if I was bearing down, and when I did not respond, she instantly called the OB back in the room. By the third contraction, the OB was back in the room and I was pushing again. It hurt, REALLY bad, but I had no choice, though I think the nurse thought I was doing it on purpose.
The OB asked me to consent to a c/s, and even during a contraction, I yelled, "NO!" Baby's heart was deceling, my contractions were suddenly on top of each other, 90 seconds apart, lasting for 90 seconds. Not a breath's break in between. She asks several times if I would consent, I said no, my Hubby said no. I kept on pushing.
In my head, I heard everything that was going on. I knew what was going on. And I knew it was suddenly going to be ok. She suddenly stuck her hand up inside me (I know this had to be done) and said that suddenly (within the five minutes and four contractions since she last checked) I was 8&100%. And Baby was moving down, heart was deceling, and we were going to be birthing baby out whether we liked it or not; NOW!
Suddenly, the room was filled with people, and the OB was screaming for the neonate specialist dr to hurry in, knowing we were going to lose Baby. The head of the bed was dropped flat and raised up so that I felt as if I was standing on my head. My scale of 1-10 pain suddenly became a 20. She said she was going to have to push back the cervix and I would have to push through this. I was continually pushing with contractions, as I had no choice, and I never responded. My legs were shoved into stirrups and I was told to push. I did take a breath to yell out, "Don't cut me!" At the same time Hubby heard a nurse ask the OB about an episiotomy, and was told I did not need one.
I continued to push when I felt the urge, even though they screamed at me to "PUSH!" The OB reached inside and stretched my cervix as I pushed and everyone was screaming for me to push. I pushed with all my might (with the contractions) and breathed when I could, even though they kept saying push. My Hubby was holding one of my legs and a nurse the other and they kept pulling them back (Hubby kept saying, "they are trying to open the pelvis, come on push". He was really a great help, and I focused on his words). Then I felt Baby moving down, and it hurt like no other birth had ever hurt. And Hubby said, "I see a head, he's is almost here!" And I pushed some more. With all my might, I pushed. That "ring of fire" you feel when Baby crowns? Well, I felt that from the very first push on the cervix. And it continued until his head emerged. I felt the pain and registered his ascent (since I was on my head-or so it seemed) and knew moments before his head was out that he was REALLY coming out, NOW! His head was born, and from that moment, PAIN, like I had never felt in my life (or ever hope to feel again) began.
The moment of truth hit. The reason that labor never progressed; the cord had lassoed him in. Literally. (Wrapped around his neck, shoulders, chest, and then feet, keeping him from descending into the birth canal). He could not come farther out.
**From my "point of view", the OB reached in and began jerking and wiggling and pulling his little body out. Then suddenly she uttered the terrifying "shoulders stuck" as she twisted and pulled on him. Pain radiated through me, as I continued to push with all my might. At the same moments my mind was screaming that if only I was squatting, he would not be stuck.
**From my Hubby's POV, the OB reached to pull the baby, but her hands kept slipping, so she did not actually pull. Then he heard "Shoulders stuck" as she reached up and grabbed his head. So he swatted her hands away and told her "Don't pull!" A nurse asked him to back off, and he told her "No!" He said he just knew that if she would just give me one more contraction, I would push him out, and I did. (The doctor did have to loosen, and then cut the cord from the shoulders before his body would slip out, though.) Then the slippery little guy nearly slipped right through her fingers.
Time stood still until suddenly he was ripped from my body and I fell back exhausted, spent, and utterly happy to have to pain gone. And it was gone as suddenly as it had begun.
My Hubby was still holding my leg as I immediately shooed him to be with baby. Just seconds had passed (maybe 3) and I heard Baby "squeak". That was all. He made no other noise, and it's not as though I would have heard him over all the noise in the room. But I heard that "squeak", and I knew he was perfectly fine.
From the moment I was dropped flat on my back, to the moment the pain stopped, was a mere five minutes. But it was the five minute from hell, and more than enough for a lifetime. I suddenly saw pain that I had never seen before, and birth from a view I had never had before. At 9:52pm my son was born; all 9lbs 1oz and 21.25 inches of him.
The nurse was immediately at my side asking me to consent to Pit for third stage management (which I had told her I would not consent to). I told her no. Someone picked up the cord, to which I immediately screamed "DON'T PULL!" And they dropped it and stepped back. Within five minutes, I felt the placenta detach (the nurse was watching the monitor, and likely praying for a contraction so I would not bleed to death as placentas cannot possibly come out on their own) and I said "it's coming". It took her a few seconds to understand and skeptically said to the OB, "the afterbirth". And in a moment's time, I pushed out the placenta and it was over.
The OB's job was done. And she quietly left the hubbub of the room, on shaky legs, I assume, as she was sure one or both of us would not come out alive. I shook her world that night in many ways, and I hope it is good for her. I appreciated her allowing me to manage my own care, and truly do not believe another OB would have allowed me that as easily as she did.
The remainder of the time spent in L&D was just over an hour. During that time, they tried to convince me that Isaiah "HAD" to go to the nursery for observation "because of his rough start". But I figured, if he was on my chest looking around and happy, minutes after his birth, his start was not TOO rough. I told them no.
BTW, though there were decels his heart rate dropped below 70 only one time and was usually in the upper 80 to low 90 during decels, so I did not find it that “urgent” to warrant a c/s, though I totally understood where the OB was coming from.
They had to continually ask me every detail about what I would consent for them to do (which was not much!) and finally left him in my care. The nurse that I had had the entire night gratefully saw the end of her shift and actually passed off my care to the next nurse to transfer us to maternity. She was nice, but utterly flustered as we would not comply with most any of her routines and policies or procedures.
Since the birth was a bit more traumatic than I had anticipated, I consented, on the advice of my Hubby, to stay the night, but refused all meds they offered, which they just could not understand. I felt GREAT! Sore, sure, but not in "pain". I have the tiniest of scratches from the birth, and only know that because of the slight sting, though it cannot be seen.
Much to the dismay of the nursery staff and maternity ward, we walked out of there at noon on Tuesday, NOT AMA either. The OB actually signed me out, though she did note that it was not what she advised.
Thus is the saga of my 23 hours of hospitalization. A time in my life I will never forget.
I have no regrets. I know now that the reason my labor kept stalling before was because Baby could NOT come out on his own. He needed the help. The hospital was there for what it needed to be there for. And I am grateful. Things worked out exactly as they HAD to work out. Though I could have done without the last hour of labor, and would settle for avoiding the last ten minutes. But I kept my head, my husband was my champion, and we all three walked out of the hospital in one piece, and in good spirits.Isaiah Dylan