Matthew’s birth story, behind the cut. It only took me 13 days to finish it up!

You’re just too good to be true.
Can’t take my eyes off you.
You’d be like Heaven to touch.
I wanna hold you so much.
At long last love has arrived
And I thank God I’m alive.
You’re just too good to be true.
Can’t take my eyes off you.
- Frankie Valli

As I sit here and start to type this up, it is Monday morning, 3AM. Nestled in my right arm is Matthew, who is having a rough first night at home. He is my son.

On Thursday, July 13th, I was running late for my weekly non-stress test and amniotic fluid check, at Maternal Fetal Medicine at the hospital. I went in for the amniotic fluid check first (an ultrasound) and the tech met me at the door at about 9AM. “How are you doing today?” she asked. I laughed.

“Ready to have a baby!” She smiled and led me back to one of the NST and ultrasound rooms. A few minutes into it and she got quiet.

“So, ready to have a baby today?” she said. I gulped. The amniotic fluid was low, low enough to warrant a call into Dr. K. She came back from the phone call and said, “Do you know how to get to Labor & Delivery from here?” So, I went, my mind racing a mile a minute. The meeting I had planned to go to that morning was not going to be a possibility, as well as the other meetings I’d scheduled for the day. I walked into L&D and was quickly ushered into a room, changed clothes, and climbed into bed. The room felt so big and I was panicking slightly.

Dr. K arrived and we talked. I want to say right now that if you’re sitting there thinking, “Oh, she is one of those who fell prey to the medical establishment, and why should she have gotten induced, when she could have (insert whatever thing you’ve read on the internet to naturally induce labor) done that?” then you can click that back button and wander right on out. I can’t tell you how much I trust my own decision-making as well as the experience and concern Dr. K (and as it will turn out, Dr. G) has for me. I have been seeing him since November, and I trust that he doesn’t want anything bad for me or for my baby. I am not seeing the Internet for medical care, and that is just the way it is. If I thought Dr. K was recommending induction for reasons that wouldn’t have benefited me, I wouldn’t have agreed – hell, I wouldn’t have been in his care at that point at all.

Anyway. Dr. K and I talked and at one point he asked me how I was doing. “You look a little pale here, Casey.” We talked about everything I was worried about – leaving things the way they were at work, becoming a mom, everything. Have I mentioned how much I like Dr. K? I do.

The biggest thing I was concerned about was the possibility of a c-section. I know that that is a perfectly viable solution to many complicated birthing situations, but I know that it wasn’t something I wanted to do for myself. I asked Dr. K about the likelihood of requiring a c-section and he frowned a little. “Since just yesterday you weren’t showing any signs of labor commencing, the likelihood is 50-50. Right now our goal is just to get you into labor – we’re looking to get you dilated to at least 1-2 centimeters. Let’s focus on that before we worry about a c-section.” I agreed.

Phone calls commenced. I called Josh and burst into tears, overwhelmed by everything going on. I called work and told them I wouldn’t be in. A resident came in and we talked about the proposed method of induction – inserting a catheter into the cervical opening and slowly adding in saline, which would have the effect of stripping the membranes and hopefully cue the body to start labor, with Pitocin added to the mix to help the cervix start to open up to insert the catheter. The resident left to prepare that and I made a few more phone calls.

Josh got to the hospital at around 11AM on Thursday, with his laptop bag, the bag we’d partially packed (as I type this, the list of the last-minute items we needed to pack is still on the bathroom door), and the carseat. He came over and hugged me and I cried some more. He’d called his parents, who were already on their way out here, due to arrive Sunday, but given the plans, drove straight up to Chicago and wouldn’t arrive until 11pm or so. The nurse gave Josh a sandwich tray (he ate part of it before giving up entirely on hospital food) and a huge cup of ice water for me.

The catheter insertion didn’t go well at all. On a good day pre-pregnancy, my cervix had been described by various gynecological practitioners as “shy”. Today was no different. The cervix was high, tight, closed, and shy. The nurse held one hand and Josh the other and coached me to breathe. The pain was unbearable, and I cried again (this is a common theme, you’ll see). The resident called in the OB on call and she tried as well but came to the same conclusion – my cervix was too high and closed to perform that method of induction.

So, after consulting with Dr. K, plan 2 came into being. Cervadil was being ordered – it’s a wee little gel/pill thing that is placed inside a thin net with a long tail (like a tampon), placed right next to the cervical opening, which if all goes well, ripens and opens it up, cuing contractions and the big party to come. That, however, came with its own drama – the hospital doesn’t normally carry it, because it’s not the hospital’s induction method of choice (it’s Dr. K’s). But, the hospital did have a capsule left, so that would be mine. Woo! Anyway, Cervadil is placed and stays near the cervix for a maximum of twelve hours. In the meanwhile, the Pitocin was turned off, and around 3:30pm, I finally ate (hadn’t eaten anything since 3:30AM when I couldn’t sleep the night before!) two really bad sandwiches (which at the time tasted like a million bucks), but I knew I had to wolf it down because I had a long night ahead of me.

So, as I ate these craptastic-now-but-at-the-time-delicious sandwiches, Josh and I passed the time by watching a couple of DVDs and Jerry Springer (topic: I’m In Love With My Uncle!), to the amusement of the nurses (shift change happened at 3pm; Maria was now on duty – she’s more my age, maybe a bit younger). The resident came in around then and let us know the next step in the Drama of the Cervadil. The one capsule they had at the hospital… was left unrefridgerated for some reason and was no good, so they had to order it from a nearby hospital and have it delivered. They didn’t anticipate this happening until 5 or 6pm. Argh! More DVDs, more Springer.

At 4:30pm, Josh went to the business center in the hospital to check email and post updates. The cervadil arrived sooner than anticipated, and by 5pm, the resident had inserted the cervadil. We were well on our way.

I started feeling contractions, like minor menstrual cramps, about an hour after its insertion. Josh and I were still hanging out, talking and laughing and watching DVD episodes of The Simpsons and News Radio. A couple of hours later, the contractions were getting stronger, so we decided to take advantage of the electronic doohickeys and wandered the hallways, after we figured out how to fashion a robe out of another johnnie, for awhile.

We were in close touch with Josh’s parents, who were speedily racing toward the Chicagoland area. As they approached, the contractions got stronger and harder. I knew that this would be a side effect – that anything used to hasten labor would likely cause other interventions along the way. The evening nurse (Maria) asked if I wanted to consider any pain medication. I told her that I wanted to hold off, and she nodded. “I won’t ask you again – you just let me know.”

At around 8pm, I let Maria know, after a small bout of crying in Josh’s arms. The pain was getting beyond what I could control. She nodded and went to call Dr. K, who wrote the order for the pain medication and she came by to administer it – a narcotic called dilaudid, a synthetic form of morphine. Because the cervadil was supposed to be inside for so long, the use of the narcotic was preferable versus the straight on epidural – it took the edge off and would not affect the baby upon birth. Anyway, she injected the dilaudid into the IV and also in my thigh, and … bliss. I was finally able to sleep on and off and rest. She left after 11pm and as she did, we said goodbye – I told her, “I hope I don’t have to see you tomorrow!” She laughed and said, “Hopefully if I do you’ll have already had the baby!”

Josh’s parents arrived at around 11:30pm. Shortly thereafter, Gary and Josh left for our apartment in Chicago, to get some rest and to introduce Gary to Ava. Kathy stayed with me while I slept and labored, on and off. Josh didn’t want to leave, but I knew Ava would freak out without one of us to introduce her to his parents, so I urged them to go. The dilaudid started wearing off, and I remember Kathy in a very calm voice talking me through contractions and telling me to breathe, helping me roll over a few times. The pain got to a point where I couldn’t rest anymore and was incredibly uncomfortable. I got an injection of morphine, which to my hazy recollection didn’t do a damn bit of good, and closer to 5am, got another dilaudid injection with Fenergan (I think to help me sleep). That helped a little, but I could still feel wave after wave of contractions, worse than anything I’d ever felt before in my life, and I’ve had some bad cramps in my time! I couldn’t concentrate on anything when a contraction hit and my throat was incredibly dry because I kept breathing heavy to make it through each contraction.

5am finally came around, as well Josh and Gary, who came in while I was moaning uncontrollably. Josh was alarmed and immediately regretted leaving. 6am came around and I recall snapping to Josh, “Why won’t they come and take it out??” referring to the cervadil, which in my drug and pain addled mind meant the contractions would stop! Gary at first thought I was talking about the baby! Finally, at 6:30am, they came to remove the cervadil and check on my status – they were expecting just to barely get me into labor 1 or 2 centimeters at most. I was at 8.5 centimeters! The pain I felt was excruciating – at one point I remember going to the bathroom and, this is going to sound totally gross, but here you go: I begged the nurse to poop. “I really, really have to make a bowel movement.” She told me I couldn’t, that it wasn’t that I had to poop but the pressure of the baby and contractions were in the same area. Aiie! I asked for an epidural immediately. Within a half hour, the anesthesiologist came, kicked Kathy and Gary out of the room, told Josh to sit down (apparently many partners have been known to faint, so the policy at the hospital was that partners sit), and I grasped onto the nurse around her shoulders as he prepared the area and she talked me through a few really bad contractions. I barely felt the injection and slowly as my legs turned warm and then slightly numb, sanity returned and I was rejoicing – and falling asleep on the nurse as the anesthesiologist finished up and talked me through a few more questions. As he left, I thanked him profusely and called out, “You are my hero!”

Kathy and Gary returned, and I slept and rested up, knowing that soon the pushing would commence. Our room was dubbed the happy room because we were all laughing and talking – about what, I’m not entirely sure now! Around 8:30am, we were given the go-ahead to start pushing, and it took me awhile to get in the groove. I labored for about an hour and a half (according to Josh’s recollection) on my back, and wasn’t making any progress. At some point during the pushing, Dr. G came in (Dr. G was covering for Dr. K, who had to go out of town, arrr!) and had paperwork for a c-section, should the situation come to it. She talked to me frankly about her concerns, about how I would be laboring for awhile to pass his huge head, and that because of the diabetes, she doesn’t want to use forceps or vacuum to assist the baby along. She explained very patiently all of the issues that come along with having a c-section, and put the paperwork aside for me to look at. She was very matter-of-fact with me about the idea of a c-section but, to her credit, didn’t encourage or discourage me either way – which was just what I wanted. I talked to Kathy about her birthing experiences (both of her kids were c-sections) and with Josh I cried a little. I know that c-sections are good for many women; for me, I really wanted to avoid having to have a c-section. This is when the laboring really began, in my mind.

I changed positions to my right side, and pushed hard from there. Kathy was behind me, holding onto a leg; Josh was in front of me, holding one of my hands while I grasped the hospital bed bar next to me and pushed. The nurse helped by holding part of my leg up as well – by this time we were at the same nurse we started with the day before. I pushed and pushed and between pushes, according to Gary, I’d fall asleep instantly. “I knew you were asleep because you’d be snoring immediately after pushing!” I switched sides at some point and continued to push. Josh, Kathy and the nurse were the greatest cheerleaders, and I knew they had to be – I mean, who tells a woman while they’re pushing something out of their cootchie, “Hey, you could push harder. Why aren’t you doing a better job? That rates only a B+.”

Finally, though, I felt movement, and we knew he was making progress. A few pushes came long where we could see his head coming through and that was the impetus I needed to push harder than I have ever worked before in my life. Right before he was about to crown, Dr. G suited up and we got the bed ready and I flipped onto my back for the final pushes. Dr. G told me at that point that she’d called a pediatrician from the ISCU (Infant Special Care Unit) to come and be on call in case any meconium was present in the fluid that was left. At that point, she could have said, “The Army, Navy, Air Force and Marine Corps will be filing in one-by-one,” and I would have not cared a damn bit who was in the room while my vagina was turned inside out.

I saw his head crown and felt a twinge of burning, but nothing too intense. A head full of black hair started emerging from me and I started crying – I shouted, “Holy shit!” when I saw his head pop out. Everyone laughed and Dr. G said something along the lines of “Not holy shit, we don’t want to see any shit in the fluid!” Dr. G told me to push again and I felt his body slide out of me. The nurse wrapped him up and placed him on my belly. Josh came over and I cried – here he was, the little person who spent his entire life up until that moment as a speculation, now crossing over into reality. Josh kissed me and I’m sure he said something very sweet but I can’t remember it at all – I just remember looking at this person with an oddly shaped head (conehead!), screaming at the top of his lungs and thinking what a wonderful sound that was.

After a bit, the nurse brought him to the warmer and Josh and Kathy joined him there, to weigh him and get him all set. Dr. G delivered the placenta (I can’t remember if she asked me to push again or if she pushed on my belly for me), and showed us the fetal condo the baby had been living in for nine months. Amazing piece of work. She sewed me up – only two stitches, one near the urethra and one small tear inside the vagina. After she was done, and after the nurse was done with what she was doing with the baby, she announced his weight (8lbs, 6oz), his length (20 inches) and his head circumference (15.5 inches!!). Dr. G mentioned how amazed she was that I was able to deliver vaginally. Everyone kept congratulating me and I kept thinking to myself that I can’t figure out whether or not I delivered vaginally because I didn’t want to have a c-section or if I wanted to spite Dr. K for going out of town at such an important time in my life!

At some point, I brought Matthew to my breast to nurse for the first time and he latched on like he’d been studying up on it in utero – he did splendidly.

I rested awhile, and after 3pm, the evening nurse, Maria, came back in and prepped me for the trip upstairs to recovery, where I spent two days checking my blood sugar constantly, eating a shitty ADA (American Diabetic Association) diet (more on that later) and getting to know Matthew.

A few odds and ends:

- Matthew was named after Danville. Was there ever any other choice?
- Matthew’s Apgars were 9 and 9. Good boy!
- My blood sugar was perfect throughout the entire laboring process. I never needed insulin. However, I was also so out of it that I forgot entirely about the cord donation kit, because I was pretty positive I would be on insulin throughout labor. I was also not hungry at all until an hour after Matthew was born and then was ready to eat the nurse’s hands off.
- Speaking of the ADA diet – spit, ptooie, crap. Their idea of a well-balanced breakfast? A piece of French toast, diet syrup (that turned out to be regular syrup), cream of wheat, orange juice and milk. Every single morning there I had low blood sugar levels. Duh.
- Best things in the WORLD? Witch hazel pads and the funky spray to whiz on your parts in order to make things feel better. Ahh.
- I don’t regret a damn thing about this labor and delivery. Did I want to be induced? Of course not; I would have rather gone into labor spontaneously. Do I regret the narcotics and the epidural? HELL NO. A) Better living through chemistry; and B) it is what allowed me to enjoy and appreciate the birth of my child. Being in control of my feelings and surroundings was the most important part of the birth process for me, and I was able to do that with the pain medication.

And a couple of more pictures: