Scarlett’s Birth Story

It’s taken me a year to sit down and write out my birth story. With Siena (my first) I journaled THROUGHOUT my birth (which is kind of psychotic now that I think about it) and posted a blog of the experience shortly thereafter. With Sophia (my second) I journaled about the birth within 24 hours of having her, and then it took me until her first birthday to post about it. This time, I have not written about it at all until now. I’m not quite sure why that is. Maybe because it was just so perfect that I just wanted to just leave it untouched. As if by breathing more life into the memory, that it would disturb it in some way. Something felt special about it only existing in my mind and in photos.

But as my littlest babe turns one, I am excited to relive the experience and put it all to words….

I wrote an older blog recapping my pregnancy, which was tumultuous. You can read about the roller coaster of an experience that it was HERE. Towards the end of the blog, I wrote about how the health issues that I had been facing through my whole pregnancy took a very last minute and unexpected turn for the better. After months of being told I’d need lots of interventions to get the baby here in a way that kept both her and I safe, in the eleventh hour I was told that I didn’t need any planned interventions, and i was given a week to see if I would go into spontaneous labor…

Two days before my due days (January 24th), I woke up that morning and it was as if my soul just knew that birth was imminent. I had no signs of labor whatsoever, but something within my heart just knew she was ready. I got up and out early to run last minute errands. I got my nails done, and I took a photo of myself in the bathroom there, because something told me it would be one of the last bump pics I would take. On the drive home, I cried. The tears were not sad tears. I wasn’t scared. I was so grateful, so at peace, and so READY, that my heart was just overflowing with emotion.

Not even an hour upon getting home, I started to feel a pressure in my uterus and in my hips, and I just knew it was time. I knew my baby was descending. I called my husband and told him that I wasn’t in labor, but to start to get all his ducks in a row, because I had a feeling I was on the precipice of labor. Within another hour (around 3pm at this point), I started having mild contractions, and the heavy pressure in my hips/ low back/ uterus continued to build.  I made sure I had a nice big lunch, and I started to time my contractions. They were regular, but they were not following the typical 3-1-1 or 4-1-1 rules for going to the hospital. But because I was high risk and the issues I was facing were so unpredictable and potentially dangerous, I was instructed to make my way over to the hospital at the very first signs of labor. I called my doctor and explained what was going on, and he told me it was time to head over.

I informed my girls of what was going on. Our house was buzzing with an electric energy that was equal parts excitement and nervousness for all involved. At this point I had made peace with this process and was choosing to trust that my baby would get here safe, but there was a lot of unknowns, and I couldn’t help but feel so emotional saying goodbye to my daughters. All the terrible what-ifs flashed in my mind… What if something happens to me? What is the baby isn’t ok?

I allowed myself a brief moment to feel the fear, and then sank deeper into my faith and my trust in my body, in God, and in this whole experience. I told my girls I’d see them so soon, and we all huddled up for one last “true hug” (a term coined by my middle daughter that means ‘group hug’). I’m so thankful that my mom caught a photo of that precious moment.

We got to the hospital around 5pm, where they performed a cervical exam to see what my progress was. I was only 1cm dilated, and about 80% effaced. They told me I had a few options: 1. I could stay in triage and take an our or two to walk around the halls to see if things started to progress. 2. I could go home and wait things out. 3. I could opt for an induction and get this baby out.

I chose option 1, and for the next two hours, I roamed the halls with my husband, as my contractions continued to grow in intensity. At some point in this period of time, my amazing doula Karin arrived, and she joined us on our walk through the L&D ward. I felt instantly at peace in her presence. Between her and my husband’s support, I felt like I was so ready to do this.

At some point, the contractions switched to being almost entirely in my back. I had never experienced back labor before, and I felt way less equipped to deal with this type of pain. With my first two, I had a lot of perseverance and will to keep powering through the contractions without leaning on meds. This time felt different. The pain was so bad that I couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t a single position that felt comfortable, and there seemed to be little to no rest between contractions. The next time I had a progress exam, I was 3cm dilated (I actually couldn’t believe that that’s all I was) and 100% effaced. This was enough to admit me. My doctor immediately ran blood labs, with an order for the hospital to count my platelets manually (this had been one of my major issue throughout my pregnancy). By the time I got to a room, I was in rough shape. I didn’t remember either of my last labors hurting THIS much. I was in such a pickle … I was afraid that the pain and adrenaline would trigger my dysautonomia, so an epidural was highly recommended by my whole team. But we had to wait and see what level my platelets came back at to see if this was even an option for me. Soon I found out that my platelets were at a whopping 90k (which was almost double what it had been for more than half my pregnancy!) and the anesthesiologist agreed to administer an epidural at this level. I was elated. However, just before he was supposed to come in to give it to me, he got called for an emergency c-section. The amount of profanities that escaped my lips was probably record-breaking

For the next 90 minutes, it felt like all I was doing was just trying not to die. I endured wave after wave of relentless back labor contractions, with little to no rest in between. I was having trouble breathing through it, I couldn’t relax, and I was literally begging for relief. I was in a perpetual state of feeling like my back and hips were breaking. They gave me nitrous oxide while I waited, but all this did was make me feel high while still in the same amount of pain, so I abandoned that idea. Labor is painful, we all know this, but back labor was a whole different beast that I was in no way prepared for!

Finally the anesthesiologist arrived and I got my epidural. As it had happened when in labor with my first daughter, I only got relief on one side of my body. They laid me on the opposite side to try and distribute the meds better, and every now and then they continued to top me off with a little boost of meds, as I was still in a lot of pain, just not nearly as severe. I was able to get into a comfortable position finally, and I could breathe deeply. That alone I was grateful for.

The minutes and hours seemed to drag along at a snail’s pace. I was so tired, but I couldn’t sleep because although I did have some relief, the contractions were still too intense to doze off. I realized that of my three births, this was my longest and most intense/ painful. It felt like it would never end. As the wee hours of the morning crept by, the pain of the contractions started mounting to a point I felt I couldn’t endure again. I asked them to top me off with more anesthetic, but being that things took a major shift (along with some other things going on that I will spare you the details of lol) they decided to hold off on doing anything until they did a progress evaluation. Lo and behold, Iwas at 10cm. It was time to have a baby. As soon as we had the is information, my OBGYN came in, and the room/ bed started to transform. However it was in the most peaceful and quiet way. It was around 5am or so at this point, and it felt like it. Everything was done gently, quietly, intentionally. In my last two births, the room was filled with people. This time it was minimal - just my doctor, a nurse (the same one that had been with me all night), my doula, and my husband. The room was very dim, and it felt so quiet. My doctor was cracking jokes and we were all laughing, myself included, despite my delirium at this point. Besides making me feel safe, my doctor’s sense of humor and the levity he brings to a room is my favorite thing about him. I felt so at peace and so at ease. Suddenly it became so clear to me where in this process I was at. I would soon meet my baby. I had one step left standing between that moment and being able to hold her. Very soon, the last birth I’d ever experience would be over. The actual delivery portion of my birth was one of the most blissful and conscious experiences of my whole life. Everything felt zoned- in and in high definition.

I didn’t feel the fetal ejection reflex this time like I have in the past (probably due to the epidural), however I could tell baby was ready because of the undeniable pressure. I also was able to feel each contraction, and so I was able to use that as my guide for when and how to push. I was completely in charge of that process, and did not want or use any pushing guidance.

Once everyone was ready, my doctor encouraged me to push as it felt natural to. I propped my neck and head up to make sure I was able to see everything as it was happening. I gave one powerful push, and he told me it would be only a couple more pushed before she was out. I went slow and at my own pace. I was so in tune with my body. At this point I only felt pressure, not pain. The pain of the contractions became a tool that I used to gauge how to push, and the pushing became a relief from the contractions. I felt the most intense joy and peace through this process. After the third push, her head was clear. She already started making noises and whimpering. I sat there, wide eyed and amazed at watching this human, who was still half inside of me. It was WILD!!!!! At this point the doctor moved aside, as we planned for my husband to catch her. I just sat there hanging out, waiting for him to get into place. You know, with a small human half hanging out of me, no big deal. Craig got ready to catch our baby, and with one more push, she came out at 5:22, right into his hands. He then gently took her and placed her onto my stomach, as her cord was too short to reach my chest. We were both laughing and crying, as I held her in my arms and felt the most incredible joy, relief, elation, exhilaration, and gratitude that could possibly exist. She was perfectly healthy, and I delivered her without a single hiccup. They took blood from her right away to check her platelets (which had been a concern because sometimes babies can experience ITP upon birth when the mother has it) and the levels came back perfect. I had not had any issues with bleeding, as they thought I would. I had not a single issue with my dysautonomia, as they thought I might. In the couple weeks following my birth I had a few scary moments with my health issues as my body worked hard to find homeostasis, but in the end, I feel better now than I have in years. In fact, about 3 months postpartum I got my first ‘normal’ platelet read in 7 years.

My birth with Scarlett was far more perfect than I ever could have ever even imagined. After all I had gone through in my pregnancy, never in a million years did I believe or expect I’d end up with an experience like this. What it taught me was that anything is possible, it reinforced how valuable faith is, it reminded me how absolutely fucking AMAZING and resilient my body is, and it reawakened the importance of prayer in my life.

Happy first birthday to my precious angel, Scarlett. My life didn’t feel complete without her in it. To simply say I am grateful is the understatement of a lifetime.