Sit right down, and let mama Dom tell you a little story about the time I gave birth to a nine pound baby at 38 weeks pregnant.
Warning: I'm about to let it aaaall hang out, and it's gonna get graphic. But I'm not embarrassed, because my stories are shared to help, never hurt. And I think it's important for people to understand that giving birth, and the way you give birth, is about as much of a personal choice as you get.
The first time my daughter tried to enter this world was Christmas day, 2012, at 31 weeks gestation. Little did I know that the back pain I was experiencing was actually full on contractions 2 minutes apart - and by the time I found this information out, I was already 2 1/2 cm dilated. Through the grace of God, after 8 days in a hospital and 7 weeks on bed rest, I was able to keep her in until my 38 week appointment on Valentine's Day, 2013. The girl loves a holiday.
I went into that appointment expecting to be sent home afterwards. After all, I felt fine (if not large and in charge) and it was just a regularly scheduled appointment. I, like so many others, assumed my first baby would take her sweet time getting to her due date after settling down the first time, and that my doc would allow me to "go the full 40" as it were.
To my surprise, my doc told me I had dilated another cm - leaving me already at a 4 - and that she was admitting me to the hospital. If I wasn't already a mom by that night, she said, she would induce me in the morning.
I had heard horror stories of inductions, and I was a bit nervous. Particularly since I was alone, admitting myself to the hospital, no bag and a Chris was at work, and since I had no idea I was in labor the first time - I didn't know what things were going to be like this time either. But I called Chris, told him this baby was happening, and that I was going to Labor and Delivery to be admitted. He decided to work through lunch (because seriously, there was no rush) and meet me with the bags in about an hour. This was about 10:30am that morning.
A few hours later, my doctor came to see me and told me she was going to go ahead and break my water - something you soon to be first time mothers should know does not hurt in the slightest - and that she was going to put me on the lowest level of Pitocin. It looked like Violet was well on her way. I was fortunate enough to be able to get my epidural soon after, and after what felt like just a few hours, I was told it was time to get this ball rollin'.
This is where things get interesting. I pushed to get that baby girl and her giant noggin out of my body for three. full. hours. Her head was stuck for literally an hour and a half. I was periodically given oxygen, and after what seemed like an eternity, it seemed like everything stopped. My doctor very calmly told me that we had to think about our options to get this girl out - including vacuums, forceps, and the dreaded emergency c-section. What you should know about these options is that they all have their significant risks, and sometimes the ones you think sound better can actually be a higher risk. The forceps had risk of scarring, and not being effective. The vacuum had risk of bleeding on the brain, and of course a c-section was a major surgery.
After seeing my reluctance for all three of these, they called in what I can only assume is the Brookwood Medical Center's baby whisperer:
Daphne.
Daphne looked like she had done it and seen it all, and she came in like a drill sergeant, telling me I was about to push harder than I had ever pushed in my life, and that she was going to use her arms to physically move this baby out of me. She pushed on my stomach in a way that I'm sure what have felt like I was being murdered had I not been numb in that area, and I kid you not - 10 minutes later, Violet popped out at 8:43pm.
The next phrase I heard after "A beautiful baby girl!" and "You did it!" and "Congratulations!"
was "There appears to be some significant tearing."
A fourth degree tear, to be exact, which means my beautiful little sumo wrestler had literally ripped me a new one. I had to spend most of my recovery family hour being sewn back together. Later I would find out that I was about 5 minutes away from them intentionally breaking Violet's collar bone in order to get her the hell outta there had Daphne not been able to work her magic.
This time around, my doctor and I have discussed my options for birthing a bigger baby, and yes, induction and scheduled c-section are on that list. It's not for my comfort, or to prevent further injury to me. It's to prevent my second baby girl from having a broken collar bone for the first several weeks of her new life. It's also not decided yet. It's very possible this baby could be smaller, and I could have her the way I hope to - the old fashioned way. But I'm not going to argue with my doctor. Part of being a mom is giving in when you know it will benefit your child.
People who already know my story have been supportive of my "laid back" attitude when it comes to deciding my birth plan. But I have heard some more discouraging words of not listening to my doctor, and I did it once so I can do it again, blah blah blah. Yeah, I did do it once. And it was risky, and it was painful, and it almost cost me my perfect newborn experience. So, whatever women decide to do with their bodies during birth is completely up to them, and we should all respect that. It's not always a choice we make because it's convenient.
Happy Wednesday everyone! Here's hoping baby Hazel is an 7-8 pounder!
Love,
Dominique
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