Evelyn's Birth Story

I sat here and read through the "birth story" that I wrote out at the hospital last night while Evelyn slept. Definitely didn't do it justice, so I'm going to try this again.

On Thursday morning, Arianna and I got up and took our showers and headed out the door for our biophysical scan. The baby was 13 days overdue at this point, so we needed to check and make sure everything checked out before moving forward with our home birth plan. We get ourselves checked in and ready to go, but the scan took forever because of "lack of movement". This exact same thing had happened with Arianna, so I rolled my eyes and thought "whatever, lady". I texted Rowan to let her know and she said we should get moving on "forcing" labor. I agreed and we headed home.We got home super late for nap (which was rough!) and Rowan said she'd be at the house in the afternoon.

When she got to the house, she checked me out, explained what exactly was going on and we (her, really) came to the conclusion that we needed to head the hospital. Moral of the story: biophysical scans are done on a point scale 0-8. The baby scored 2. While a "lack of movement" would have been concerning, it was a lack of movement, particulate in the fluid, and low fluid combined that said "go now". So I called Matt (basically on his way home from work) and explained through my tears what was going on. He started crying too. When he got home, we rushed around trying to figure out who to call for an overnight with Arianna and threw everything we thought we would need into our bags. I hadn't thought for a moment we would need to pack, so that was ... interesting.

We decided that Matt's dad would be best to call. We knew he didn't work in the morning and we knew we could trust him. Off he went and arrived here later that night. We went to a local pizza place and grabbed food for all three of us when Steph called me to say we better get a move on, better safe than sorry, how fast could we get to the hospital? Sarah was on her way to grab Arianna before we left and we figured we'd leave whenever she got to the house. Steph said, move it, so we asked Sarah to meet us at the hospital and headed out (in rush hour traffic!)

When we got the hospital Lexi met me in the lobby while Matt parked and we headed up to see what we needed to do. They checked us in to a triage room and began to monitor the baby. At this point, I was pretty upset, but calm, and I knew I had the right people by my side. The midwife from the hospital came in to explain everything to us and what our options were. Most of the options required medication, but I was limited to pitocin only. This was due to the prior section with Arianna. I had 3 basic choices: a Foley bulb (actually, it's a new "super cool" kind), pitocin, c-section. The last wasn't even considered and we wanted to make sure to intervene as little as possible. In essence, we chose the longest route to labor: Foley bulb. After what felt like forever, they transferred me to a "real" room and started adding water to the bulb slowly.

This was a 12 hour, overnight process. I sent Matt home to put Arianna to bed and stay with her for the night since we figured it was a safe bet I wouldn't go into labor and Rowan stayed with me at the hospital for the night. I'd say we slept, but really I think we might have gotten 3 hours total and that's being generous. The entire time we did the bulb and were in triage, we were laughing, having fun, and making jokes (none of which ever cease to make me laugh!) We were in good spirits and looking forward to finally evicting this very stubborn baby!

The next morning, Matt came to the hospital and we began the next step: pitocin. They checked me and said I was at a stretchy 4cm and things looked really good. WOO! So we started a very low dose pitocin and waited. I started getting contractions and eventually they came consistently and HARD. We knew this was good, but around 10p decided to cut it off. Either I would progress in labor and have a baby, or I would get some rest to try again the next day. The contractions stopped and so we decided to rest.

Matt's dad stayed with Arianna again, but Matt stayed with me that night. I am grateful that Arianna came to visit us twice while Rick stayed with her. She's really the only reason I could keep going through this. She is what made everything seem okay. We started pitcoin again on Saturday morning. I remember crying very hard to Matt about how I just wanted this baby out and I didn't care how anymore. He knew it was my emotions getting the best of me and talked me down. Rowan and Steph continually stayed by my side, reassured me, and told me that I could this. I believed them and still do.

The pitocin did the same thing eventually (but we upped the dose) and I progressed to a 5 by early afternoon. We decided to try a few different positions because the baby's head wasn't in a good position for birth. We did all sorts of crazy things, but they worked! Baby was good to go! I was sitting on the birthing ball and each contraction had a deceleration in the heartbeat. Nothing overly concerning, just something to watch. So we changed positions and it got better for a bit. Then it began again. So we changed positions. Then the decels got even worse. The hospital staff rushed in and turned me from side to side, to multiple positions. Everything they could think of, honestly. We finally found a position that baby seemed to like and so that's where I stayed.

The midwife on staff at the time told us that baby's head was good to go, turned of the pitocin, and my body kept going! I was now in labor on my own with no help. We laughed and sighed a huge sigh of relief. My body could do this and baby was finally going to be in our arms. After about 5 minutes the staff rushed in again and the same body flop commenced. They called the doctor who came in and said "It's time to have a baby. Now." I was given an oxygen mask and I broke down. They told me to cry and to let it out. They said they would do everything they could and that I was in good hands.

They whisked me down the hall, slamming doors open and chattering quickly in their weird medical language. Some of which, I did understand. They helped me transfer to the operating table and every single person told me their name, what they were doing, how they were helping or what was going to happen next. Jen (I had to ask who later) stood by my side the entire time, holding my hand (hard, which was awesome) and telling me it was okay, she was right there and to breathe. She is the reason I stayed calm. Hands down. Only reason. I felt them prep me, clean me, put a catheter in, stick something super painful in my hand and then put a mask on my face. I remember they didn't have the mask set up quite right, so it took a few tries. I also remember Dr. Manning saying something to the affect of "We need to get moving". Then it went black.

When I woke up, I really didn't know where I was, why I was there, nothing really. I saw Matt beside me with a baby in his arms and knew immediately, but it was definitely blurry for a second. He told me that it was a baby Evelyn and she was okay. That was all that mattered. She was okay. I asked the nurse if I could put her on my chest and she said yes. So we nursed in recovery and I held her while they did all the things they needed to. The advantage to being knocked out was that I had full ability when I woke up. With Arianna, the epidural stopped me from moving. So it was a welcomed "change".

I am a story of home birth that "went wrong". A story of home birth where I put my life in my friends hands and knew I was safe. There was never a point where my life was in danger because of anything anyone did. There was never a point where my baby's life was in danger because of anything anyone did. I was in the perfect hands the whole time and God kept us all safe. I never would have been able to make it through such a long induction without my team and I sure as hell never would have made it through major surgery so well if it weren't for their love and support.

At the end of the day, I am safe, Evelyn is safe, my family is intact and I have friends that I can trust my life with. Have I cried? Absolutely. A lot, actually. I have cried from being happy, sad, disappointed, blessed, loved, cared for, overwhelmed, shocked, you name it. I've cried for several of these reasons at a time. But I know that we were in the best hands. The hands that trust our birth plan, even at the hospital, and hands that got Evelyn here safely.

In the end, I have a really wicked, nasty incision scar that I will carry with me for the rest of my life to show just how scary everything was, but also just how necessary it was. I have a scar that a colleague of the surgeon that performed the section said "She really must have scared the shit out of her." Meaning the incision was not her typical at all.  I have an incision that proves that hospitals can and are necessary.

I was relieved (and cried) when Dr. Long said I could try another vaginal birth safely next time. Does it suck that I didn't get to have my home birth? YES. Am I traumatized like I was with Arianna? NO. I have made friends for life. People that will always love me and care for me (and hopefully deliver one of our babies some day). I have proof that the hospital and a home birth midwife can work together to create a wonderful birth environment, despite the circumstances. I also have proof that you need to choose a midwife that trusts your body, but knows when to call in reinforcements. She quite possibly saved both of our lives on Saturday.

I am thankful. SO THANKFUL for everyone that had a part in her birth. I am thankful for everything. Every step. Every word. Every joke :) I was treated with respect and trust. Love and compassion. So far, this recovery has been far worse than Arianna's section. I am in more pain. To be honest, I'm quite miserable. But I'm happy. I'm happy because Evelyn is safe, I am alive, and I know that I can text and call my team whenever I need a question answered. This weekend changed our lives in ways we never imagined and I'm thankful for it.