IVEY’S BIRTH STORY

Today is Ivey’s first birthday! We managed to keep a baby alive for a full year! And what an incredible year it has been.

Leading up today, I’ve been reflecting more and more on his birth story. I never shared the details of his birth on social media and I still have a hard time reflecting on my labor and delivery experience. In some ways, I hope that writing his story will free me from some of the negative feelings that weigh on me and darken the memory of that time. I also hold a small hope that maybe someday I’ll find someone who has had a similar experience and can relate to what I went through (more on that later).

Before I go on, trigger warning - this story includes references to birth trauma, emergency c-section, pain in surgery, etc.

I should start from the beginning because it’s relevant to the ending. Charles and I waited YEARS to have a baby. We met in high school, and even as teenagers, we always envisioned adding children to our family. But there was undergrad, and then there was med school, and then residency. Sure, people have kids while they’re in school, but that didn’t feel feasible to us. I didn’t want to feel like a single parent while Charles was a resident. And daycares where we lived during those periods were astronomically expensive. And my time was also consumed by my career.

As Charles was nearing the end of residency, we came to a realization that we had a small window of time where we could get pregnant and have a baby right before moving across the country. By having the baby prior to the move, rather than after, we could have continuity of care with doctors in Charlotte, I could deliver at a hospital that Charles had a lot of connections at, and we wouldn’t have to worry about changing insurance providers in the middle of my pregnancy. But we had a very small window of time to conceive. It didn’t happen immediately, and when I did get pregnant, our due date was ONE MONTH before we were set to move across the country.

I was blessed with a pretty textbook pregnancy. I had extremely bad cramping all day everyday for weeks 4-9 which was a bit nerve-wracking, but otherwise nothing unusual. I had all the normal pregnancy symptoms to extremes - nausea that lasted past the first trimester, hip and pelvic pain, reflux, carpal tunnel, etc. - but thankfully nothing outside of the norm.

Once we hit the final weeks of pregnancy, I started to get very antsy. I’m sure every woman experiences this to some degree, but I was STRESSED about the timing of our move. I knew that we would be hosting some guests after the birth and before the move, so I didn’t want to pack up our house. As the clock counted down, I became more and more concerned that I was going to go past my due date and that we would have only 2 weeks to entertain guests, say goodbye to our friends, and pack up our house - all with a newborn!

Starting at 37 weeks, I tried EVERYTHING to induce labor naturally - pumping, dates, red raspberry leaf tea, curb walking, sex, the miles circuit, castor oil… you name it, I tried it. In the end, I do think these things helped because I was unknowingly in labor when I went to the hospital to be induced at 40+4 (pretty good for a first pregnancy!), but my due date ultimately came and went with no baby.

At my 40 week appointment, I told my midwife that I wanted to be induced. This went against everything that I had wanted for my birth plan, but the ticking clock was ALL I could think about. I knew that induction would likely make it more difficult to have an unmedicated birth, which was my goal at the time. What I did not expect, though, was for my midwife to tell me that they were too busy to induce me and I would have to wait until at least 41 weeks. That news was a huge blow. I went home and cried! Here I was not wanting to be induced, but also crying about the fact that they wouldn’t induce me! Pregnancy is wild.

Later that day, we got a call from the scheduling nurse at the hospital. They decided they could fit my in the following Friday (my appointment was on Tuesday) and we agreed to that plan. Well, Friday came and we got a call from the hospital that they were too busy and we would have to wait. Ultimately, we ended up going in on Saturday (June 4th, 40+4) and began the induction that evening.

When I got hooked up to the monitors, it became apparent that I was already experiencing contractions but I wasn’t consistently feeling them. I was 2 to 3 cm dilated at that point. To ripen my cervix, a foley balloon was used along with cytotec. I knew going in that the insertion of the foley balloon may be uncomfortable. What I didn’t expect was for the insertion to become a 20 minute debacle. At that point, my cervix was off to one side and the midwife student STRUGGLED with the insertion. I used it as an opportunity to breath through discomfort, but yikes. That definitely could have gone better.

The cytotec intensified my contractions to the extreme. I knew that they would likely get intense and then back off some, but I have some lingering questions about how the cytotec impacted my contractions throughout my entire labor. I expected to have hours of laboring where the contractions were spaced out and then they would get closer together, but from the start they were back to back and the only change was intensity.

The induction started around 6 or 7 pm and I labored comfortably until the early hours of the morning. We watched Netflix, I bounced on the ball or rocked side to side standing, and the contractions were very manageable. Around 1am, I told Charles to get some sleep and laid down myself for a bit. At that point, my contractions were such that I couldn’t sleep, but I tried to rest as I prepared for labor to intensify.

Sometime around 2 or 3am, I felt a sudden pop. It was like a water balloon exploded! I immediately called out to Charles and told him that either my water had just broken or the foley balloon had ruptured. A nurse came in to test the fluid and my water had indeed broken. She proceeded to RIP the foley balloon out of me. I have trouble believing that this is standard procedure and it was easily one of the most painful moments in my labor. Crazy! I was also checked at that point and I had progressed to a 5.

From that point on, things intensified quickly. I went from laying in bed to having to move and have Charles support my weight and breath through contractions in the course of minutes. I coped pretty well for an hour or two, but then I started to go downhill mentally and physically. At some point my midwife suggested that I get in the shower and I honestly hated the shower. I always envisioned laboring in water and wanted to love it, but my legs couldn’t support me. Standing was just not comfortable. I wish someone had suggested filling the bath instead, but hindsight is 20/20!

It was during this phase that I started feeling the urge to push. No one told me that I might feel the urge to push before it was time. Pushing was incredibly painful because my body wasn’t ready for it, and it was exhausting. I honestly felt betrayed by my body at this point. Everyone says that birth is the most natural thing and your body knows what to do, but it felt like my body was acting against me and working incorrectly. Now wasn’t the right time to push, so why couldn’t I stop pushing?!

After getting out of the shower, I was checked again and I had progressed to a 7. At this point it was probably 6 or 7am. The midwife suggested I try laboring on all fours. This helped with my weak-feeling legs, but I felt oddly alone. Before that, I had been leaning on Charles a lot, and liked that feeling of support. Looking back, I wish someone had suggested that he get on the bed so I could lean on him, but again, it’s easy to reflect on that after the fact!

When I was told that I was at a 7, I think I gave up mentally. I had been so set on having an unmedicated birth, but I felt totally spent. I had trouble centering my breathing. I was screaming out in pain with every contraction, sweating profusely, pushing and trying so hard not to push. Its hard to describe how distraught I was. I couldn’t process what was happening but everything felt wrong. It wasn’t like I had imagined it would be at this point. My experience didn’t seem to be aligned with all the birth videos I had watched. I knew transition would be hard, but I had barely even gotten to that point and I felt like I was going to die. At one point my midwife gently told me to breathe in the next break between my contractions and I SNAPPED at her and told her that there was no break between my contractions. Shortly after that I gave up and I asked for an epidural.

I know that getting an epidural is not a bad thing. And looking back, it was one of the best decisions I made given how things turned out. But for me, it felt like a failure to stick to the plan. If you know me personally, then you know I like sticking to the plan.

Shortly after asking for an epidural, my medical team left the room. At the time, I assumed the were going to get the anesthesiologist. But some time passed and I realized that no one was coming. My medical team had abandoned me at my lowest point when I clearly needed support and they had not called the anesthesiologist. In desperation, I asked Charles to call the nurse and the anesthesiologist responded immediately.

Now, keep in mind, it had been at least half an hour if not more since I was last checked. At the rate I was progressing, I wouldn’t doubt I was at least an 8, if not a 9, before I got the epidural. Let me tell you… sitting still was SO hard. With my contractions being back to back, getting that epidural was incredibly uncomfortable. But man oh man did I feel better after. When the anesthesiologist came back to check on me a few minutes later, he was like, “Wow, you look so much better! You weren’t doing so great!” Understatement of the year.

The next few hours were bliss. I was able to get cleaned up, change into a clean gown, brush my hair, etc. I don’t think I slept at all, but I was able to rest and update my parents. While I labored down, the nurse would come in and rotate me from side to side with the peanut ball between my legs.

Around noon, a different midwife came in to check and see if it was time to push. There had been a shift change since I got the epidural so this was our first interaction (other than one pre-natal visit). When she was checking me, she asked the nurse to bring in an ultrasound machine and get the OB on call. She looked at us and said, “I’m really sorry to tell you this, but I don’t think that’s a head that I’m feeling.” The OB was in the room within a minute and the ultrasound revealed that Ivey was indeed breech. He was presenting testicles first. The OB took command immediately and told us that in less than a minute there would be a lot of people in the room and they were going to get me prepped for an urgent c-section.

Man, the shock that I felt… It was incomprehensible. I was stunned. 18 hours of labor and at no point did someone check think to check if he was still head down. They checked me at 7cm and couldn’t tell that they were touching a butt instead of a head?! I had so many questions but I was unable to voice any. Except one. I needed to know that my anesthetic would be re-upped.

See, my epidural was wearing off. I had been laying on my left side for 45 minutes or so before the ultrasound. I could feel most everything on my right side. I told the anesthesiologist this and he assured me that he would take care of it. Well, what he did didn’t work.

I was rushed into the operating room. From the time they determined that Ivey was breech to the time he was out of me, it took max 15 minutes. When the OB started cutting into me, I cried out. As he moved from left to right making his incisions, I could feel everything on the right side. The anesthesiologist scrambled to do whatever he could, but the OB did not slow down. At one point, he literally poured lidocaine into my incision to see if that would help, but he didn’t stop. For those who aren’t medically savvy, this is NOT normal procedure. You don’t just pour lidocaine into an open abdomen.

When the anesthesiologist had done all he could, he got down next to my face and told me I had two options - I could bear the pain, or he could put me under. As I lay crying, I told him I would bear it. I didn’t want to miss the birth of my son or his first few hours of life. There was no question. So I endured. I cried out with every cut and I was soon rewarded with a son - a very light-skinned one at that! Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the drugs, but that was the first thing I said when I saw him!

The moments after his birth were incredibly hard. Charles went to be with Ivey as he was weighed and cleaned up and I just laid on the operating table crying. The midwife who had to deliver the bad news about Ivey being breech came into the operating room then and held my hand. I don’t know if that’s standard procedure or if someone told her I was a mess and needed support, but she was my angel. In the stark loneliness I felt in that moment, she was my comfort. We silently held hands while I cried and waited to meet my son.

After a few minutes, Charles brought him over and held him next to my face. I didn’t get skin to skin until we were in the recovery room and I wish I had fought for it sooner. I remember stroking Ivey’s face and being more sad than I was happy. It just was such a hard moment. The bliss and the joy came later, once we were settled in our recovery room, alone as a new family.

While I knew that recovering from a c-section would be difficult, I was not at all prepared for the mind-blowing pain those first few days. I remember the first time the nurse forced me to get out of bed being absolutely shattered by the pain. My drugged up, post-partum hormone crazed brain thought that I would never walk normally again. My dreams of having an active life with my son were gone. I couldn’t stand upright. I couldn’t take a single step unsupported. Obviously my thinking was overly dramatic. But in the moment it felt like my world had ended. I had my baby but I had lost everything else.

Over the next two days, I forced myself to move around the room and, while exhausting and painful, I started to see a glimmer of hope. One of the things that really benefitted me in those first few weeks was having my parents in town. If you know my parents, then you know they are obsessive walkers. They sometimes go on 2 or 3 walks a day! While they didn’t pressure me to get out, they inspired me and offered to take short, slow walks with me.

Physical recovery was by no means easy, but it was MUCH easier that I was expecting based on those first few days. Walking, meeting up with friends, hosting people in our home (within reason) all gave me reasons to move some everyday and within a few weeks I was walking normally and lifting reasonably heavy things without any issues.

Mental and emotional recovery were more complicated. While I was pregnant, I was terrified that I would experience postpartum depression. Thankfully, this was not the case, though I did experience baby blues. I had the hardest time when I was alone. I would cry in the shower or when I was awake with Ivey in the middle of the night. For the most part, this tapered after the first few weeks.

But the trauma of my birth experience lingered. I was (and still am) triggered by birth content on social media. I had a really hard time going on Instagram and Facebook in the weeks after having Ivey because all of my recommended content was related to birth. I had to unfollow countless accounts because I found them so upsetting. Everywhere I looked I seemed to see posts or hear stories from women who had blissful birth experiences where everything went according to plan and they gently breathed their baby out of their vagina. Any time I was alone, I would spiral thinking about my labor and being cut into and having no control and my body betraying me…

Honestly, this hasn’t gone away. I spiral less frequently, but I still have so many unanswered questions. When did Ivey flip? Was he actually breech the whole time? Was there malpractice? How was it not detected sooner? If he did flip during labor, how much did that impact my experience? Was my labor unusually painful or am I just a wimp? How much did induction impact my experience? Did the intensity of the contractions as a result of the induction some how cause Ivey to flip? Was my experience during the c-section really due to my epidural wearing off or do I have some sort of intolerance for the anesthetic? Will future c-sections (if necessary) be felt? Why didn’t I do a better job advocating for myself? How would my experience have been different if I had a more supportive medical team? If I had a doula?

My midwife told me that flipping during labor is highly unusual. I have yet to find stories of anyone with a similar experience, and not knowing when he flipped and how it impacted my experience are probably the main things that bother me. I’ll probably never know!

Wow, after typing that whole thing out, it is quite the bummer. If you’ve made it this far, congratulations and I’m sorry. Ha! Typing out this story has been cathartic and also incredibly sad. I wish that I had better memories of the day Ivey was born. His first week? Yes - happy, joyful, blissful, amazing. The day of his birth? Heavy and dark.

Here’s to the best year ever with the sweetest little blue-eyed boy, and here’s to releasing the heaviness, finding joy, and moving forward.