It has been 3 years since I started writing this story. I started to write it soon after I had Titus and then I put it aside for a few months and wrote some more. Now over 2 more years has passed and my baby boy turns 3 today and this story has still been sitting in my drafts. Titus's birth story is the only story of my babies I never published. Even now as I read back through what I wrote so long ago, I can't figure out how to accurately portray just how much Titus's birth impacted me. Since the time I wrote this out, I have changed even more. I have had another baby in a completely different way. I can see more clearly how God used Titus's birth to push me into deeper research, education and discussion about what normal birth is and the ways He designed things to work. I am so thankful for that. But I would be lying if I didn't say that there is still a lot I am working through emotionally surrounding Titus's birth. I am thankful that I am able to face this story and this blog tonight, something I have avoided for months....years really... and continue to process through so many emotions.........
WRITTEN SHORTLY AFTER TITUS WAS BORN:
I've sat down and tried to write Titus's birth story a few times now. I've thought about sitting down to write it even more times, but have been avoiding it. His birth went beautifully well. God had His hand in so many details. He is worthy of all the praise.
But the birth of little Titus has been interesting for me to process as well. His birth was mentally and emotionally challenging for me more than anything else. In some ways, I am tempted to just write out the factually events of what happened. It would be what people expect. It would bring God glory. But I feel like it would be such a shallow version of what went on for me that night and day. In other ways, though, I feel like sharing the more emotional side of things is daunting. It makes me feel vulnerable.
Over the past 6 years, I have changed drastically in many areas of life. It can be hard for me to make dramatic shifts in thinking because I start to feel like the "old" me would not even recognize the "new" me. I know that the "6-years-ago me" would very strongly disagree with the "now me". Sometimes the process is the hardest part.
One of my ideological shifts has been in the area of giving birth. The change has been a gradual one; it didn't happen overnight. Titus's birth confirmed for me just how much I have changed, though. When I was pregnant with Kenzie, I was afraid of labor, terrified of delivery, and very much wanting to avoid pain. I also believed that modern medicine had brought an easy answer to pain that came with virtually no side effects...I mean, RARELY something bad might happen, but overall it was just this great thing God had allowed us to figure out to deal with the horrible part of giving birth. I went into my first labor and delivery experience knowing I didn't want to feel anything and I didn't want a C-section. That was about all I knew. I never really thought that giving birth could potentially be a time that would bring me into a deep place of dependence on God as well as an event that would bring me to a place of such awe and reverence at His marvelous perfection in creating my body and a new little body to work together. In fact, God's place in my first labor and delivery falls so incredibly short of what I believe His place SHOULD be in this process. And I think that is what makes me sad. My past birth experiences, things I've read, people I've talked to, and other resources have brought me to a place of really desiring to be able to fully incorporate praising and worshiping God as a main part of giving birth. So much glory is given to Him in the process of experiencing what He designed our bodies to do- on His timeline.
As my idea of my body, birth, and God's role in all of it has changed, the idea of being in a place that supports this with people who support this has been something I've thought a lot about. In fact, I even interviewed 2 midwives at the beginning of my pregnancy with Brinley just to get information about home birth or a birth center birth. At that point, the idea of giving birth outside of the hospital setting still seemed somewhat crazy and foreign but was also intriguing. Ultimately, though, I couldn't let go of my OB. She had earned my deepest trust when she had delivered the twins and allowed me to avoid a C-section despite an intense delivery of "twin B". I felt that she was someone who had taken risks for me and I truly felt like she was someone who was doing her best to support the things I found important in a setting where it might not be the most popular thing. I still feel like this in many ways. She is someone I know I can trust. As an OB in a hospital setting, she will always have my high recommendation.
With Brinley, I decided that while natural birth was becoming more important to me, that the bond I had with my doctor was more important. I wanted a natural birth, and I was sure my doctor would fully support me in that- I had no doubt. But I was also still unsure about my resolve to actual follow through with a natural birth. It was something I believed I could do and I wanted to try. At that point, though, I was still ok with the idea of pain medicine and intervention for non-emergent reasons. It was all I had experienced and it had always gone fine. It was what I knew and I didn't feel intimidated by the possibility of things going that way.
This time, though, I knew both medicated and natural birth. I had experienced both. I have had 21 months to more fully appreciate all the amazing aspects of God's design in the birth process and He has challenged me more with surrendering things to Him. With Brinley, my natural birth in the hospital with my OB was never threatened. I wasn't even fully convinced that it was what I wanted to do, but even though I had heard and read and KNEW that hospitals and timelines and schedules could completely devastate a natural birth quickly, there was never any moments of feeling like my natural birth with Brinley was at risk. That was the difference this time around. Throughout my pregnancy I thought about midwives and non-hospital delivery a few times, but I firmly believed that if everything was truly uncomplicated that my experience at the hospital with my OB would be completely fine. The only problems were that ultimately I was unrealistic in my expectations and view of my relationship with my OB and that I also failed to consider the fact that I now knew how painful a natural birth really is and I knew that there were many options for dealing with this that weren't available at the hospital I was delivering at.
Hearing Titus's birth story would not convey any loss or struggle, since everything worked out extremely well. Even my best friend who was with me the whole time seemed shocked when I told her I felt like I never wanted to give birth in that way again. Since she couldn't see what I was wrestling with internally, she only saw a beautiful birth that God covered in blessings. It ultimately comes down to the fact that I felt like I had to fight my way through the process and felt very unsupported to give birth in the way I feel like makes the most sense.
So now for the actual story:
So I left off my last post on Tuesday night, December 17th. I was 38 weeks that day and Titus was still happy inside me. I was waiting to see what God had planned.
My next OB appointment was scheduled for Monday, December 23rd. I was trying to prepare myself fully that I might actually be going to that appointment.
I had contractions through the night again on Tuesday night, but they were far apart and nothing exciting. I continued to contract very spaced out and sporadically on Wednesday, too. On Wednesday night, Chip and I went on a date to run some errands. While we were out, I had 2 contractions. For the rest of the night....nothing. I woke up Thursday morning and still, nothing. Chip was working that day from 8am-4pm. I don't remember much about the day except that it was pretty uneventful.
At 3:45pm, I was sitting on the couch doing some transcription work and I had a very strong contraction. It really jumped out at me since I hadn't had any contractions since the evening before. (As a side note, our chiropractor had predicted the day before at our appointment that my body would be ready 30 hours from that time which would have been at almost 3:45pm exactly on Thursday - kinda cool) As the afternoon/early evening continued, I began cramping and having irregular contractions again. Chip got home from work and we had salmon, brown rice, and vegetables for dinner and got the kids to bed. I didn't say anything about the contractions because they were no different from Monday night and I was hesitant to get excited and think they might mean anything.
We had an apple pie that we had gotten from a friend, so after we got the kids in bed we called Chip's parents to see if they wanted to come over and have pie with us. They said sure and came over around 8pm. Before they got to the house, I let Chip know that I had been having contractions on and off all evening and I thought it might be nice to go for a walk if his parents were up for staying at our house with the kids. His parents came and Chip and his mom and dad had pie. I was already full and didn't want to eat more if I was really starting labor. I decided I'd have pie later if nothing seemed to be happening.
After dessert, Chip's dad went home and his mom stayed at our house with the kids. We went out on a walk for about 15-20 minutes and just in that amount of time the contractions seemed to be stronger and more consistent than they had on Monday night.
At 9:18 I text my mom: "Definitely activity, but still super unclear...Dawn (my mother-in-law) went home to get stuff and we will go out & walk more but who knows...xoxo"
During this time, I was starting to really struggle. Emotionally, I was so torn. I was holding back. I was being so guarded because I didn't want it to be a repeat of Monday night, thinking it was time only to be disappointed. But because of this, I wasn't allowing my heart to get ready and prepared, either, and I knew it. I spent a lot of time pacing around our basement in the dark and laboring through sporadic contractions and then asked Chip to come down stairs and be with me and pray with me, asking God to help me again to truly surrender the night and the pregnancy and everything to Him. He allowed me to have peace and relax into whatever was happening. I was able to have joy and excitement that it might be time, while still knowing that it might NOT be time. I was really thankful for this time together with Chip.
My mother-in-law got back and we went for another short walk and by 9:43 I was texting my aunt and best friend letting them know I was going to the hospital just to see if I was making any progress. Labor was not hard at that point, but I also felt like something was actually happening. {The decision to go in was a first small part of my internal/emotional struggle. The hospital was not where I wanted to be and not where I wanted to labor. There was a huge part of me that wanted to just wait until I knew it was close to time. Part of me wanted to wait until my water broke. But while I didn't really want to be at the hospital, I also didn't want to deliver in a rushed/emergent type situation. I didn't want to deliver in triage with nurses running around and no time to call my doctor. I didn't want to deliver in the car or unassisted at home. I REALLY wanted my doctor to deliver me and I really wanted things to be calm and smooth, so I felt like I needed to go in on the earlier side of things}
At 10:07pm I text my mom: "At hospital getting checked out.... : ) We'll see...."
I waited in the triage room for FOREVER waiting for them to come in (they could tell I wasn't in hard labor).
They finally came in and checked me and at 11:11pm I text my mom: "6cm and 80per effaced...: )" At that point, we knew they'd be admitting me and I let my aunt and friend know to head to the hospital.
{Here is where more turmoil began. Part of what made me feel comfortable with a natural delivery was the fact that my doctor had assured me that she was very on-board with it and things had gone so well with Brinley. She had given me her medical assistant's cell phone number and told me to text her so that she could contact my doctor if my doctor wasn't on-call when I went in. I was very sure that she would make a huge effort to be the one in charge of me during my hospital time...completely confident in it. She was ok with me not having an IV and was ok with me eating during labor. While I was in triage, I found out that my doctor was not on call. I told the nurse that I wanted to do everything naturally and had gone naturally with my last baby. I also told her I was texting someone who would be in touch with my doctor. In order to admit me, the nurse got in touch with the on-call doctor. I had started to ask at one appointment who my doctor shared call with (she is in a practice by herself) and she had confirmed one doctor who I felt decently comfortable with, but I think we were both fairly confident that I wouldn't need to worry because she'd be there and so we never even discussed any of the other doctors she shares call with {so I didn't even realize she DID share call with other doctors}. So that night, the on call doctor was a doctor I'd never heard of before. When the nurse called him to admit me, she came back and told me he was recommending an epidural. For me, someone who wasn't even wanting ANYTHING in an IV, hearing that a doctor I'd never met and had NO IDEA what his views of anything were was recommending an epidural before I was even admitted and was going to be the one calling the shots about my care if my doctor didn't show up was very difficult for me. Thankfully, once I was admitted he ok'ed no IV. I didn't even ask about eating. But it is very intimidating to suddenly feel as though decisions are potentially going to be made with very little discussion and with absolutely NO personal connection or care associated. I felt very much like I was purely "business" for him since we had absolutely no contact with each other}
So, I had been walking around the hospital halls while I was in triage and was waiting to be taken to my labor and delivery room. As I walked down the hall back to my triage room, my aunt and best friend both arrived so we all went to my triage room together. The nurse from labor and delivery had just been there to get us, so we waited while they let her know we were back and ready to move us to my room.
The medical assistant from my doctor's office had responded quickly to my texts, but her responses did not put me at ease. She asked me if I thought I would be able to wait until morning to give birth. I responded that I had no idea. She said my doctor had been on call and up most the night the previous night and was exhausted. She said that my doctor wasn't far away but she may not be able to be in until morning. I asked her what "morning" meant and asked if she was talking like 6am. She said maybe closer to 7am. ALL of my texts back and forth with her gave me the impression that she was actually talking to my doctor and being the go-between I had been led to believe she'd be. {At this point I had SUCH mixed emotions. I was somewhat taken aback that it seemed like my doctor might not come in for me if I couldn't wait until morning, but I also didn't want to believe it. I desperately wanted to believe that if my doctor really knew it was time that if she cared about me as much as I thought she did- really truly believed she did- then she'd wouldn't be able to stay away.}
WRITTEN 3 MONTHS LATER:
[I am picking back up writing this 3 months later and details are much more fuzzy. I have put it off for so long on purpose. I'm sad that I've forgotten details, but I think I was guarding myself from some of them too] I got to my labor and delivery room. Contractions were slowing down. I continued to try to walk. And squat. I had to ask the nurses for a wireless monitor so I wouldn't have to sit in bed to be monitored.
Labor was completely stalling and I knew it. I think a huge part of it stalling was due to the fact that I wanted my doctor to be there so much. I was so antsy. I didn't want to be at the hospital with nothing happening. I wanted to labor but I also was so worried that a doctor I didn't know and didn't trust might be the one who'd come. I was feeling let down by my doctor...disappointed that she wasn't following through with things I had told myself she'd do, but things she herself had never actually said she'd do {mainly, be there for me no matter what} I started to realize that while she is my ONLY OB, that I'm NOT her only patient. I realized that I might not be as important to her as she was to me. I also felt very alone in my confusion. I especially was wishing that Chip might see how afraid I was feeling. Even when I told him, he didn't understand....couldn't understand. I felt like choices and care concerning my body were potentially going to be made by someone I had no relationship with. I was worried that I wouldn't have the resolve to stick with what I knew I wanted. I was tired. I was feeling extremely vulnerable.
As each hour passed and no one heard anything from my doctor, the more discouraged and betrayed I felt. By around 4am, I was really not having significant contractions at all. But I was also around 7cm dilated. I felt completely trapped. There was no way they were going to send me home. But there was also nothing happening. I wasn't sure if I should rest or keep trying to walk and squat and get him out. By 5am I knew I needed to rest. I was hopeful that my doctor might come in time, but was still wondering why I hadn't heard from her.
At 6am the nurses switched shift. My first nurse had been pretty hands-off. She didn't offer much support as far as labor goes. I had to ask her for things. If I knew what I needed, she was able to help get them for me, but she really had no input or suggestions for ways to support my labor naturally.
The new nurses were not much better. I had two nurses caring for me and it didn't take long for me to figure out that one of them was new.
At 6:30am, shortly after my new nurses had introduced themselves, my phone in my room rang. It was my doctor sounding like she had just woken up. She informed me that she had just found out I was in the hospital. I couldn't decide if this was good news or bad news. I was feeling relieved that she was contacting me directly the minute she found out I was there. I was feeling upset that I had been led to believe that she KNEW I was there several hours earlier. She said that both her medical assistant and the on-call doctor had text her but she hadn't seen them and that no one had tried calling her house.
She told me that she wanted me to try start Pitocin. I asked why she couldn't come break my water. She said that the nurses had told her that the baby was floating and breaking my water wouldn't be ideal. This made me SO upset! The nurses were giving my doctor a report of my status from a check done by a previous nurse HOURS before. I asked my doctor how the nurses knew this if they hadn't even checked me and she seemed surprised and told me that she'd have them check me again and if it seemed like the baby was lower and more favorable then I could wait until she could make it in and she'd break my water.
It seemed clear to me by our conversation that if I wanted to do things my way (have my water broken instead of starting pitocin) that I would have to wait on her until she was ready to be there. The new nurses checked me and said it felt like the baby had moved down and was secure and that breaking my water should be fine. So....I waited.
My doctor finally came in around 9am. We talked for a few minutes and she checked me and then broke my water. It took her a few minutes to break it. The amniotic sac was very strong and was slipping around in her hands. She finally got it and the warm water came in gushes. She then made a comment about how she really shouldn't have broken my water because the baby wasn't as low as she would have liked and that I needed to sit in the bed for 20 minutes and she left the room.
I waited in the bed and finally asked if it would be ok to get up and the nurses said of course (almost as if I hadn't really needed to stay in the bed in the first place). I decided to get in the shower to see if I could relax and get contractions to come. They started to pick up in intensity quickly and soon they were hard, intense waves of pain. I would stand in the shower and rock until I felt one coming, then I would squat into it, holding the hand held shower up to my belly. I was wishing I could have the water so many places at once. It felt so good. I would stand up and rock and sway again, and then squat into the next wave of pain. I must have been in the shower for 45 minutes or so, but it didn't feel like it was that long. That was the point where time got all screwy for me.
Early on during my shower labor, my doctor came in to check on me. It was probably about 20 or 30 minutes after she had broken my water. She saw I was "in my zone" and left. She informed me later that she was coming in again to suggest pitocin. What she calls a "whiff of pit"....the lowest dose...just enough to help things. This minor little detail...one that I wouldn't have thought twice about in the past....makes my stomach anxious even now when I think about it. I thought she knew how much I wanted NOTHING intravenous to augment labor, especially if there was no indication of problems and I thought she would support that 100%. To find out that she was going to suggest it and try to get me to change my mind for no apparent reason other than that she wanted to speed things up lets me know that either she didn't understand how much I wanted no pitocin, or it tells me that she really didn't support me the way I thought she did. Thankfully, since I was "in my zone" she didn't need to hurry anything along and she left me alone.
The nurses asked me to let them know when things started to feel different. I got to the point where things were definitely changing. I knew I didn't need to push yet, but told them things were different.
They called my doctor in to check me. She came over to the shower and said something to the effect of "I love you, but not enough to get wet. You need to come out of the shower." It was a horrible feeling. I didn't want to leave the warm water...the only relief I was getting. They reassured me that I could just get back in if I wasn't ready to push. The only problem is that it isn't that easy. When you're dealing with the transition stage of labor, it takes focus and so much energy to just MOVE. Going from the shower to the bed or the bed to the shower may not seem like a big deal at all. They were literally 10 feet away from each other (or less). But I knew it wouldn't be so simple to just "get back in".
I made it to the bed and my doctor checked me and said I was at 9cm. She asked if I wanted to try to push. The only problem? My body wasn't wanting or ready to push AT ALL. I still don't understand why she would have asked me that. It only confused me. I told her no, it wasn't time. She asked me what I wanted to do. I had NO IDEA what I wanted to do! I wanted some help knowing WHAT to do. This is where, for the first time, I really understood how incredibly helpful a doula could have been. Oh, I was wishing for one. Chip and my aunt and my friend WANTED to help. My aunt was TRYING to help. But she wasn't sure what to try and I had no idea how to instruct her to help my body. I moaned that I didn't know what I wanted {I wanted it to be OVER}. My doctor told me to get up on my knees facing the back of the bed, with the bed in the upright position and my arms resting on the back. Somehow I managed to get in that position. I felt like I was in that position for an eternity. In reality, it was only for a few minutes. After a few contractions {remember. only a few, but felt like eternity. time gets all weird} I said I needed to lay back down.
Shortly after this, I looked around the room and asked where my doctor was. She had gone out again. I asked for her to come back in. She came in and told me that she thought I probably just needed to push. And now, I agreed, I did. It still wasn't urgent, but I knew there had been more change. She told me to push and then immediately told me not to. She said she needed to get ready first (knowing that I can be quite an efficient pusher). She gowned up and I started pushing. I'm not sure how many pushes it took, but from the time I got out of the shower until the time Titus was born was only around 15 minutes.
My sadness mostly comes from knowing that this is an end of my
relationship with my OB in the way that I've known it. She has delivered
all 6 of my babies and that has formed a bond between us. I have been
in her office SO MUCH over the past 7 years. But the
WRITTEN 12-20-16 ON TITUS'S 3rd BIRTHDAY:
I left things above just how they were....just the way they have been left all of this time. I left space for the rest of Titus's birth. But at the end I was also trying to figure out how to process and work through the dread I was feeling in facing the fact that I had no choice left but to walk away from a doctor I loved and the only process I knew, but a process in which I could see that things just weren't right. I didn't quite know why the process wasn't right yet, though. I have learned so much more since I was last writing this out.
Titus is the only birth I have on video. For awhile, I hated watching it. But I am so glad I have it. Tonight was the first time I was able to watch it and not hate it quite so much.....almost not hate it at all. There are still things I cringe at and still things I am sorry about. But there are things I learned that I could have never learned any other way.
I am ready to publish this, now. There is still a lot I am leaving out about the moments of his actual birth. I have the video of him actually being born, plus, some of those details just aren't that important to me.
I do need to note that one of the things that has stuck with me the most over all of this time was the care and support of our good friend and chiropractor, Kevin Ross. Throughout that night, he was quick to respond to my texts and was one of the few people who I felt was truly supporting me. I was surprised tonight, as I read through what I had written, that I hadn't mentioned my interaction with him. I almost think I didn't want to associate him with this story, as strange as that sounds.
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