In the nick of time, the good Lord delivered mineral oil and a doctor from the bush of Africa, while I lifted my hands singing "You are More than Able" over our delivery room.
To say Abel’s birth plan went awry would be an understatement. That's probably why it's taken me over 7 months to hit publish on this blog.
I had hoped we’d have an early baby- just so long as he was full term, I was ready to meet our baby boy. I had dreamt of and envisioned a birth so divine, in the comfort of my home where my peace lives in our living room, in an earthside pool surrounded by my birth team and the cheerleading of all my online friends watching live all over the world. Every single thing was planned to a T, down to the fall dahlias and sunflowers floating in my pool and every supply I could possibly need was placed on my birth cart, weeks in advance.
I had lost my mucus plug a day before his due date so I felt everything was right on track. A week went by and I had the bloody show right at 41 weeks. I started homeopathy just before that at my 40 week appointment to try and prepare my body for birth. Abel was and had been in ROA since at least 30 weeks. He had maneuvered once at 38 weeks to fetal position but he liked his cozy space and stayed hunkered down there. My midwife wasn’t concerned because this is typical and some babies don’t fully rotate until the last minute when exiting the birth canal.
At 41 weeks, I still held out hope for a home birth with my full birth team, knowing we had a deadline of 42 weeks that is state mandated to force women to be induced at the hospital and considered unsafe to birth under midwife care at home. At 41 and 1 I had an appointment with my midwife where she gave me castor oil and a cocktail recipe to help induce labor as “naturally” as possible. I was dilated to 1.5. I was referred to get a special ultrasound that would check on baby- how many movements he was having, how much fluid was surrounding him, and how he was breathing. He passed with flying colors and she noted his head was rather large. We stopped by the grocery store to get all the necessary ingredients for the cocktail. At 41 and 2, we made a plan. I touched base with a local farm who was supplying us with flowers for the birth pool, we made arrangements for our kids, and blew up the pool with the help of our kids. I was ready to prep physiologically for labor and to bring this baby earthside.
I started the Midwife’s cocktail. I prepped it in the middle of the night on Tuesday, chugged it on Facebook live and went back to sleep. I waited and Adam asked repeatedly, but nothing happened. I had been sure this concoction would send me into labor- as it works a good 85% of the time. We sat and twiddled our thumbs. I continued the miles circuit but nothing other than some “loose stools” which was normal at this stage.
Protocol says wait 2 days and repeat the cocktail. Meanwhile, we welcomed our kids back home to normalize things, but it was incredibly challenging to get back in the mental space for birthing, especially with the failure of the first round. While we waited for the second cocktail, on Wednesday, I started a round of acupuncture and saw a Webster certified chiropractor to see if I could coerce him into position and then we repeated it again on Thursday when nothing happened. I took the second round of the cocktail on Thursday night/Friday morning. Friday morning I woke up with intense cramps for several hours and bleeding. I was in a lot of pain just as the recipe mentioned. I had diarrhea and I started a bath to ease the pain. Silly me didn’t realize I was stalling what could have been early labor which had started at 7 am and lasted til nearly noon.
Adam took the kids and dropped them off with my mom for the weekend so I could get back into labor mindset. However, after the bath, the contractions subsided. We had “the talk” with my midwife about what to expect for being admitted to the hospital and she checked to see who was on call for the weekend. We decided to wait it out the remaining 2 days for the full 42 weeks and postponed being induced til Sunday. I didn’t want to give up and live with the reminder I had come this far and just threw in the towel.
Saturday morning we woke up and decided to go for a walk. We went to Paris Mountain and did a lap around the lake. I felt time slow down. I was feeling good and had been feeling contractions on and off all morning, but nothing I could record a solid rhythm. We went to Texas Roadhouse for an early dinner, and I knew I was in early labor but things still weren’t progressing as I was told they would if it were real contractions. We moved dinner along so I could relax at home and get back into the zone.
At this point I was 41 weeks and 6 days and had 2 hours left when I had typed a message to my midwife telling her I felt contractions building and intensifying, but I told myself I’d hold off and only send it if I felt another before drifting off to sleep. Needless to say, I fell asleep til 1am.
I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. I video messaged one of my best friends who is no stranger to birth trauma. I got out every ugly thought I could, I cried ugly tears and grieved the peaceful birth I dreamed of having my entire adult life. I let it all go, realizing this was inevitable and there was nothing I could do to change my circumstances. I got in the shower and prayed and confessed to God how angry and disappointed I was that I wasn’t able to give birth naturally the way He created me to.
Adam got up around 4am and we packed the remaining items in our bags and headed to the hospital- the hospital I was born and the same hospital I (and Adam) had years of trauma stored up from past experiences. My midwife’s words echoed about making new memories and redeeming the past came to my mind. I didn’t shed another tear after that. I put on my fight face and claimed as my husband had said- “today we bring our son home!”
We had planned to go to the hospital first thing around 7am for shift change, have a baby, and request immediate release to bond and rest in the quietness of our home, instead of being bothered from a revolving door of people, with no sleep, baby being poked and prodded and me constantly being medicated around the clock. But that’s not at all what unfolded. We got there around 6:45am and went to triage. I ate my “last meal” and got settled in while they received all my paperwork for transferring care. I let my doulas know we had arrived and we would keep them posted (Both are very good friends of ours and one volunteered to come and help out. In hindsight I’m so grateful we were blessed with two because it was all hands on deck, especially without my midwives being able to be by my side- due to hospital policies).
We requested a room with a window for some natural light and also a birth pool. We got the window with a view of the roof top but weren’t privet to the pool because I was not a patient of their midwifery- bummer. I didn’t have my hopes to high but my water birth and easing labor pains by natural methods was off the table. At check-in I was dilated to 2.5. Their first recommendation was to begin cytotec which would soften my cervix. We would have to wait some time before stating pitocin.
I entered the room in positive mental space and handed my nurse Jenny my birth plan. She was cute and spunky and while I could tell she wasn’t used to a mom walking in with a stack of crunchy plans, she honored them. I got to see her a few times but she got tied up with a birth, and I didn’t need much assistance while we waited for my body to react to the meds. I had asked the staff to take it easy on the fluids, because I didn’t want the swelling and had done a good amount of research leading me to believe it would also make baby swell and harder to birth. My fears were correct. I’m not sure they honored that request because I look back at photos of labor and don’t recognize my body. And there is more to tell postpartum regarding my swelling later.
The doctor said they would check again at 1:30pm and requested to do a membrane sweep. They were busy and we didn’t see anyone for another hour when we requested them. They came in at 2:30pm and checked dilated to 4 (cervical check #2). They started pitocin. And I refused having an artificial rupture of membranes. While this is a normal hospital practice, this could lead to the baby passing through liquid that could give him an infection and could increase my need for a c-section which I was opposed to unless absolutely necessary. It’s typically done to usher things along and not necessary since I was progressing. I paced the hallways with Adam, trying to keep moving.
My doulas had arrived and I was sneaking a meatball sub in the bathroom because I knew I had a long way to go and would need the strength. This was another reminder that I wasn’t getting the freedom of my birth at home where I could move bcand eat and drink as I pleased. But, I was grateful for the nourishment. I kept my focus.
I walked the halls, took some photos with my doula/photographer and worked on some laboring exercises with my team that we had practiced with the yoga and peanut balls.
Time went by. No changes.
At 9:00pm I was still not feeling contractions and pitocin was at 18 and 20 is as high as they like to go, typically. I should have been feeling a rhythm by now. I should have felt the contractions as they came in waves but I felt nothing. I now know this is called “silent labor”. And I was most likely in early labor for the last several days, but never could time it, because I didn’t feel them coming and going. They turned down the pitocin to allow me to get some rest.
My team decided to rest and try to sleep for the night. Adam was beyond exhausted mentally and physically and the “fun” hadn’t even begun. I needed him rested, so we sent him off to a nearby hotel after he couldn’t get any shut eye in the car or on the room sofa. My doula Rebecca went home for some shut eye and got an hour, if that. And Brittanie stayed with me.
I woke at 12:14am to use the bathroom and knew immediately that my water broke! FINALLY!!!! I called Adam and let him know and he got there right away with a little more energy from the rest he had gotten.
At 12:45am they did another cervical check and I was dilated to 5-6 (check #3) I was definitely feeling the contractions- their intensity and the timing between was so rapid in my mind that I could only tell they were present. Adam pressed into my hips as they would come to relieve pressure and he and Brittanie put the tens unit on my lower back to counter the tension of my contractions. Rebecca arrived back with us. The girls started helping me into more positions to bring him down and open my pelvis more.
Another cervical check (check #4) at 4:05am noted that I was a “stretchy 7”, 90% effaced and 0 station. At this point everything is a blur to me. They told me at 5:45am baby’s heart rate dipped a bit from laying on my right side. I don’t remember that hardly. They stopped pitocin. They did another cervical check (check #5) and I was almost fully dilated, just a lip of cervix was left.
At 8:15am another cervical check (check #6) and unchanged with new doctor- who I’ll refer to as Dr. Boss (because she liked to call the shots).
At 9:24am checked (check #7) again, had the cervical lip reduced. Baby is at station +1. At 9:36am the staff encourages me to practice pushing.
At 11:52am checked again (check #8) and the cervix is gone!!! I start active pushing during contractions with the help of my birth team- Adam has one foot, Brittanie has the other, the rail is attached for me to pull a sheet and counter push down. At 12:50pm another check (check #9), still same station.
Dr. Boss enters at various times (and twice with her entourage whom I’ll refer to as Dr. Strongarm) to try and pressure me into an epidural and a C-section. I refused to talk about a C-section. I was in communication with my midwives and my doula was reminding me that I had PLENTY of time before I needed to jump to that conclusion. Dr. Strongarm was adamant he would change my mind.
During one of their visits I had asked a nurse to bring me a birthing stool. No one even seemingly knew what it was and where one could be. At this point I’m in and out of the bathroom and constantly feeling the urge to poop and I WANT A STOOL because they refused to allow me to labor on the toilet. The monitors kept falling off due to me moving. They urged me to get back in bed and I got angry at this point. Someone showed up with a stool that was solid and looked like something you’d reach the top of your refrigerator with. I was ticked at this point. I was in pain and they wanted to check me again (check #10).
To get them off my back, I agreed to the epidural because they were pressuring me and wouldn’t leave me alone. I knew what I had in me and I could take the pain. I still had more in me. I was in labor land and spacey but I was there and active and knew what my body needed. But my team told me it was a good decision to make then. And, I was completely unaware shift change was in a few hours, despite the clock in front of me. I thought I would be fighting these doctors for the rest of time.
At 3:15pm the anesthesiologist team walked in and placed the epidural perfectly. I honestly don’t even remember the pain. I decided to rest as the pain subsided for the first time since midnight. My birth team grabbed some food and Adam later told me this was an hour he truly thought we were moving towards a c-section and he was scared. He had a conversation about me to the nurse and he expressed how I so badly had wanted a natural home birth. He wanted to give me that but feared that I wasn’t having any signs of progress and we were running out of time. He had basically given up hope.
At 4:07pm Dr. Boss checks again (check #11) and station is still 1. Again, only one hour after I’ve had the epidural they pressure me “We should have serious talks of considering a c section.” And again, I refuse, ”No. I’m not ready for that conversation yet.” I’m fully aware that c-sections are predictable procedures, controllable, and nowhere near as time consuming as vaginal births, and they also pay nearly double- sounds like the perfect storm. So I understand the push and the escalation of C-sections in modern day American medicine and I’m a strong NO, for as long as it’s safe.
At 5:05pm, we suddenly get a miraculous early shift change. My theory is that I was the trouble-maker crunchy mom and they sent in reinforcement. Dr. Lee walks right in and asked about my birth plan which she admitted that she hasn’t gotten a chance to read but wants to chat through it as she checks Abel’s position (check #12). I can already tell I like her as she was the first doctor to even acknowledge my birth plan or care about my desires for birth.
She stated, “He’s still asynclitic. Let’s try to get you a vaginal birth!” And asked if I had IT in me.
I eagerly replied, “YES I DO!”
She was the first doctor to mention this word which I was unfamiliar with but my doula had already had a suspicion that he was asymmetrical due to the length of time I had been fully dilated with no progress. Basically put “it’s when a baby’s head is tipped towards one shoulder. The tipped head has a harder time passing through the narrow part of the pelvis, the ischial spines. Labor becomes longer, and sometimes the baby doesn’t fit out the pelvis.” (Spinning babies). No one had truly checked his orientation, only my cervix and how far he had descended. She was the first to truly place her hands in to determine his position.
Dr. Lee goes over several things and is the first to give me “this or that” options instead of telling me and pressuring me, in the event she can’t manually rotate him for a vaginal birth. By this time, my essential oils are full blast, I have my worship music going. My arms are raised in the air. I’m feeling good and I’m trying to learn to push against the numbness of the epidural. I truly feel empowered by everyone in the room. I had my labor playlist playing “More than Able” and I’m joking with Dr. Lee. I’m bossing my birth team around to suit their strengths (Brittanie counter-pressure on my left foot and Adam on my right), nurses keeping an eye on our vitals and Dr. Lee and the delivery doctor and my doula is capturing it all.
She mentions wanting to try mineral oil and asks for my consent, which I happily gave her. The only time I used mineral oil was on my farm when I was cleaning fresh eggs. And that seemed like a natural choice to me.
I remember coaching myself with thoughts of trying all I could for this vaginal birth, because I knew if I allowed the c-section before it was necessary I would be so disappointed because the dream of a future home birth with my midwives would be ruled out. That broke my heart and kept me focused on giving it my all.
I remember thinking about how proud Joel would be (keeping in mind all the things he had overcome- all the pain and tragic memories he had in this very hospital) and how he would delight in me finally getting to birth a baby! I was NOT giving up!
Abel started crowning and Rebecca started teasing she could see his hair color and asked what color I thought it would be. I said “blonde” for some strange reason (the drugs?!) because all along I was certain he would be a strawberry! I looked to my husband and all his expressions, as I could tell he was the most honest with how far I was progressing (not just being my cheerleader hahaha).
I think I took one break for the entirety of my contractions. And then it was GO-time!
Less than a hour and a half later, at 6:31pm Abel was born at 8lbs 8oz and 20.25 inches long. My exhausted husband gets me some Chick-fil-A and I put waffle fries in my mouth as I try breastfeeding.
33 hours total from the time induction started to birth
18.5 hours of active labor
6.5 hours fully dilated
12 cervical checks 😤
Baby and I both spiked a fever. He was Coombs positive and his bilirubin numbers were concerning. We were slightly cleaned up somewhat and ushered off to the mom and baby wing. So, our hopes for a quick stay at the hospital then turned into 4 days and bringing home Abel as a glow worm to fight jaundice and his heels being pricked constantly along with returning to the lab for blood work for him for 2 additional days.
During my recovery at the hospital my legs had tripled in size from all the fluids. It was so bad and they were so heavy that I couldn’t move my legs and Adam thought I was paralyzed. I just wanted someone to help me get around and to help me get clean because I hadn’t had a shower in almost 2 days. Adam had to get the kids and so he couldn’t stay with me the whole time. The hospital expected me to do everything myself. They told me they wanted me to be up and moving in 6 hours or less and showering alone. I’m sorry but my body had just been through hell and back to birth this baby. I was in no shape ready to take care of myself. Reality set in that this is normal. It is NOT normal in home birth. In fact, you’re told not to leave your bed for several days so that you can heal faster. You’re encouraged to have help for minimal movement. And further it supported my opinion and stance on hospital birth and healthcare. To me, there’s little health and care in our system and it’s heartbreaking. And just because this is “normalized” in the hospital, the lack of care and consideration sickens me. I had to have someone wheel me into the bathroom the first day on a standing device which they frowned upon. And when you see the bill for $18k you would think you’d be offered top notch care.
The most disheartening thing for me personally was not having my midwives, who I had bonded with, who knew me personally and my baby my name, who had supported me the entirety of my pregnancy and knew every member of my family, with me as I gave birth. The women who I had confidence in simply couldn’t be there because of laws and privileges only given to certain midwives.
The next disheartening thing was that I didn’t get to share my experience the way I wanted to, to inspire other women towards a natural birth. For all the reasons I didn’t want a hospital birth, those were the very things that I had to experience myself.
And, in a sense I’ve come to realize as I’ve processed my birth story over the last 7.5 months that my heart is to redeem birth in a different way. Maybe my story wasn’t to give birth in a beautiful pool, filled with fresh flowers, with my music and flameless candles and worship music in the background, but for the mom who also experienced a less than perfect birth. Maybe my story and Abel’s arrival was meant to empathize with the mom who had a traumatic birth because of a team she trusted. Perhaps the next time will be different, as they always are, but this time was about helping others redeem their story instead of the beauty of mine. And with that I can find peace.
I later come to find out through my midwives that they love Dr. Lee and it’s quite possible that she’s the ONLY doctor that could have given me the vaginal birth I wanted. You see, she has been in the bush of Africa, birthing babies where there are no options for c-sections and modern medicine. She has a special skill to deliver babies in difficult places.
If I could change anything at all, it would be to make a ripple with my story, for doctors and medical staff to actually respect physiological birth. I wish they would require it in education for obs. I pray that someone out there gets curious enough on their own to learn and bridge the gap between natural moms and modern medicine so that they know how to properly respect the wishes of women who choose to give birth, instead of forcing their hand for what’s easiest for their schedules and most delightful to their pocket. I hope doctors like Dr. Boss and Dr. Strongarm can learn from doctors like the ones who train in the bush of Africa. I wish lines weren’t so white and black but started to gray to the point where midwives were welcomed to give peace to their patients who must be induced or transferred in.
For me, I could wish all day, but the one thing I realize is that every birth is different I could harp on what I could’ve done differently, specifically being more prepared in the event of a hospital birth (though that’s not really my style- I’m not one to overly prepare for something I don’t expect to happen). I’m not one who dabbles in the what-if game of life but more so adapts as I go. But I can confidently say that my best choice and being a first-time mom was hiring a Doula to help me make the really hard decisions in something I had no experience in empowering me to make those choices as I went, according to my beliefs, sharing with me the risks and rewards. I am 1000% sure that if I had not had my Doula there, my voice would not have been heard. She communicated flawlessly with my midwives on medical decisions. And I am 1000% sure that the divine hand of God was on Abel and me the entire time, so that I would have the story to share with others but it would also end in triumph as Dr. Lee walked in and took over the room at the sound of my voice and my wishes.
I know I couldn’t have possibly made it through the intensity of the mental and physical challenges of my birth without my husband. He was stronger than I’ve ever seen him in those few days. His support of me connected us in a way that I’ve never felt so aligned with someone. I’m so grateful to have prepared with him and had him with me every second.
I’m so thankful that despite it not being a picture perfect birth that I have photos to remind me of the warrior I am and the moments I spent fighting not only for my rights as a mom and my son but also to remind me to continue fighting to redeem birth for women for as long as I’m breathing… whatever that looks like.
Thank you to Rebecca for being my voice and my sound mind. Thank you for reminding me of my choices and helping me through the toughest moments. Thank you for capturing my imperfect birth. You are incredible inside and out! Almost all photos credit to Rebecca Haymes Photography.
Thank you to Brittanie for championing me in this birth. Thanks for having a slumber party with me in the middle of birth- that’s so special! For being my strength, doing my mascara and hair. And for being there for me the entire time!
Thank you to my midwives Carrie and Paislie at Hatched at Home Midwifery for all my prenatal care, postpartum and being my birth cheerleaders and friends. I’ll call you soon! Hahahaha I love you and adore you both. The end.
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