Hey mamas! Welcome to the thirty-sixth post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring my sister’s friend Amy Balaich. Amy is 25 years old, and she and her husband have been married for almost three years. Amy graduated from BYU with a degree in Elementary Education and her husband is working on a degree in Chemical Engineering. Today Amy is sharing the birth story of her first baby, who was born in August during the coronavirus pandemic. If you’re currently pregnant and wondering what birth is going to be like in the middle of a pandemic, this is a great story to read!

Read to read her daughter’s birth story? Here we go!

The Birth Story of Juliet Balaich

I elected to be induced at 39 weeks and 5 days. My other option would have been to wait to be induced at 40 weeks and 4 days if I didn’t go into labor on my own. However, that day also happened to be the first day of a new semester for my husband, who is a full-time student. Given my mom’s and sisters’ histories of going past their due dates, I figured that I was unlikely to go into labor on my own anyway, so I decided to go with the earlier induction and I am SO glad I did! 

They had us check in to the hospital at 6:30 pm on Tuesday, August 25. As we left our house that night, it was pretty surreal to think that the next time we came home would be with our baby. At the hospital, we were put in a super spacious room that we stayed in for labor, delivery, and recovery, which was so convenient. The nurse came and talked to us and then put Cervidil up near my cervix. Cervidil is like a small tampon impregnated with medicine that would stay there overnight to ripen my cervix. She also drew some of my blood, put an IV into my left hand, and hooked up external heartbeat and contraction monitors on my belly. I got a few hours of sleep from about 11 pm-2 am. Between the discomfort of having to carry all the monitors with me to go to the bathroom, and the nervousness that started kicking in, I didn’t sleep as soundly after 2 am. It was fun to watch the contraction monitor because it helped me start to recognize when they were happening. When I would start to feel my belly getting tight, I’d look at the monitor and sure enough, the numbers were rising rapidly. I had felt a mild version of that sensation a few times while pregnant, but never recognized it as a contraction! When the nurse came in and asked me how I was doing, she seemed shocked that I wasn’t feeling pain and had been able to sleep because she said I was having some pretty strong ones. 

Around 6:20 am, the new nurse took out my Cervidil. She was in touch with my OB and said he wanted to start me on Pitocin, so she went to get it and started me on 4 milliunits through my IV. She said they would increase that by 4 every half hour up to 20 milliunits, as long as the baby was tolerating it. My OB came in around 7:45 am, checked my cervix and said it was dilated to a 2.5 or a tight 3. He also used a hook to break my water, which was super uncomfortable having him reach up inside me and then to feel the gush of warm fluid coming out. Then he had to reach up there again to attach a heartbeat monitor to the top of the baby’s head, and another monitor to more accurately measure the intensity of the contractions than the external one I had on overnight. That encounter was honestly one of the most painful parts of the whole labor experience. Cervical checks are quite uncomfortable and that one was especially so because it was so much longer and more intense. I was happy when that was all over. 

However, by that point, my Pitocin was up to about 16 milliunits, plus my water was now broken. Contractions became so painful all of a sudden. Whereas they were at most uncomfortable during the night and even during the early doses of Pitocin, the pain suddenly hit like a ton of bricks. I think I tolerated the contractions for about a half hour before deciding that I might as well get the epidural – if I was going to get it, why wait and put myself through more pain? I told my nurse and she came back with the anesthesiologist maybe 20 or 30 minutes later. He explained everything and then had me sit up and hang my legs off the side of my hospital bed. The nurse and my husband both came and stood in front of me to help support me. He had me kind of slouch and arch my back out, like an angry Halloween cat (his words). I could feel small stings as he numbed me locally, and then I felt a little pressure when he was putting in the epidural needle. He could tell right away that it wasn’t quite placed right, so he had to take it out and do that process all over again. Hearing that something had gone wrong (even though it wasn’t anything major) must have freaked me out a little bit because I got really sweaty and a little nauseous. The nurse brought me a barf bag and held it by my mouth, but I took some deep breaths and the feeling passed. He numbed me and then replaced it and put in the tube. I laid back down and my legs started to feel warm and tingly, then gradually went more and more numb, though they continued to have a slight tingle throughout my whole labor. By then it was about 10:15 am and I was dilated to a 4.

Even though it was weird to be totally numb in the legs and unable to move much, I was so happy to have the epidural in and felt much more at ease. My husband and I got to relax and watch some TV. The nurse checked me again around 11 am and I was at 6 centimeters. Sometime after that, I started noticing that I was feeling the pain of the contractions again, though not as much as before the epidural. I was still on the same fairly low dose that the anesthesiologist had started me on, so I called my nurse and she told me to press the green button that would give me some more epidural anesthesia. She told me that I could press that button as often as every 10 minutes or so if I needed relief. 

Then at 12:30 pm, the nurse came back in and checked me, and said “Wow, the baby’s head is right there.” She felt around a bit more and said “Okay, you are at a 10!” I was honestly so shocked that some tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t believe it! I felt like she had just barely checked me at a 6, and I expected it to take so much longer! It made sense why I had been feeling contraction pain through the epidural though; things were progressing so quickly and my contractions must have been really intense! The nurse said she was going to notify my OB and that a bunch of other nurses and people would be coming in and out of our room to get things ready for me to push about 10 minutes later. 

Around 12:55 pm, everything had been set up in the room and my OB gave my nurse the go-ahead to have me start pushing even though he wasn’t there yet. She and my husband helped me prop my legs up, and they each stood on one side of the bed to hold them up since they felt like dead weight to me. She explained that each time a contraction came, she would have me take a deep breath and then hold my breath and push while she counted to 10. We would do that 3 times in quick succession on each contraction, then take a break until the next one. Pushing was really hard at first because I was very numb and really couldn’t feel what I was doing. 

Overall, pushing went really smoothly and I didn’t feel any pain at all. It was tiring to strain so hard and hold my breath on the pushes, but being numb from the epidural and having breaks in between each contraction made it totally manageable. My OB arrived around 2 pm, after an hour of pushing. He was super energetic and loudly encouraged me on each push with chants of “Keep pushing! Push harder! Give it everything you’ve got!” which was actually incredibly motivating. I had no sense of where things were at and expected to be pushing for much longer, but my OB said the head was right there but a little too big for the outlet, so he wanted to make a small episiotomy to guide the tear that was already starting to happen down low. He asked if that was okay and since I trust my OB, I agreed, even though I have mixed feelings about episiotomies.

I kept pushing on each contraction, being cheered on by my OB and my husband, and my baby girl was born at 2:24 pm. After her head came out, the rest of her came right out really quickly. I was so shocked when I opened my eyes and saw my OB holding her and heard her first little cries. I immediately started crying because I couldn’t believe she was finally here. My OB said, “This is a big baby!” They took her to do some tests, while my OB quickly delivered my placenta and said, “Well, you’re officially no longer pregnant!” Then he had to press down really hard on my belly and it was so painful for some reason. The nurses and people doing the tests on my baby and wiping her off announced that she weighed 9 pounds even. I was shocked that I had just delivered such a big baby! My OB began stitching me up, and my husband stood by me and told me what a great job I did. They brought her to me while he was finishing up stitching, and I got to hold her on my chest. That made tears stream down my face all over again. The emotion of holding her for the first time was overwhelming. While I was pregnant, I had this irrational worry that I wouldn’t love her right away, but I loved her the second they laid her on me and I saw her beautiful, tiny face. I felt so proud of myself in that moment for everything my body had accomplished. We named her Juliet and she is the perfect addition to our family. 

I was absolutely TERRIFIED of giving birth for most of my life, and although I have always wanted to be a mom, I had always questioned whether I would be strong and brave enough to do something that scary. People kept telling me that I was stronger than I thought and that birth would be surprisingly natural, and they were actually right. It was not nearly as scary as I had always imagined. For me personally, having an epidural was 100% the right choice because it made the task of delivering a baby so much less daunting. Everything went so smoothly and I felt incredibly blessed! My little Juliet is even more perfect and beautiful than I ever hoped or imagined, and every part of the labor process was absolutely worth it to bring her into the world. ♥ 

*Note about delivering during COVID-19 pandemic: I was allowed 2 visitors, but only one at a time, meaning that if someone else came to visit me, my husband would have to leave temporarily. I didn’t like that idea, so I had my husband stay with me the whole time and didn’t have anyone else visit. My husband was free to come and go from the hospital as he pleased. The hospital policy asked us to wear masks whenever a hospital staff member entered our room, but all of our nurses were super understanding and told us we didn’t need to worry. We still tried to adhere to the policy most of the time, but I definitely didn’t wear a mask while I was pushing!! 

Wasn’t that great? Amy gave such great details, and I could really feel her emotion when her daughter was born! Thanks so much to Amy for sharing her story on the Honest Birth series! If you want to reach out to her, you can follow her on Instagram at @amy.balaich. I’ve got a few more coronavirus birth stories on deck, so keep checking back!

The post Honest Birth #36 featuring Amy Balaich appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the thirty-fifth post in my Honest Birth series! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve featured someone, and I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring my friend Kaylee Jones. Kaylee was one of my sister’s good friends growing up, and I’ve known both her and her husband for almost 15 years! Kaylee and her high school sweetheart-turned-husband Scott have three kids and live in Colorado. Today Kaylee is sharing the birth story of her first boy, who was born just a few months ago during the coronavirus pandemic. If you’re currently pregnant and wondering what birth is going to be like in the middle of all this madness, this is a great story to read!

Read to read her son’s birth story? Here we go!

The Birth Story of Carter Jones

My husband, Scott, and I have two little girls, an 8 year old and an almost 6 year old. We had our little boy 2 months ago. We wanted more children, but because of certain circumstances we hesitated. We prayed often to know when we should plan to try and have more kids. About 2 years ago we received a very clear impression that we were ready. It took us a year of trying before we were able to get pregnant. We hadn’t struggled to get pregnant before, therefore it was a very hard year full of tears, questions, and prayers. We were thrilled when we finally found out we were pregnant in September of 2019. We had no idea about some of the other trials and struggles we would soon face with bringing a baby into the world in 2020 during the worldwide Coronavirus Pandemic.

I had a fairly easy pregnancy, other than dealing with migraines during the 1st trimester and some early contractions, which is normal for me (having had some preterm labor and medications administered with both of my girls to avoid having them too early).

At 28 weeks pregnant, things in the world seemed to be getting crazy. Schools closed and I had to help teach my children as we did remote learning from home. Church was canceled until further notice, and we proceeded to do that from home with just our family as well. My husband, who works as a baker and manager at his father’s restaurant, was not able to work for 6 weeks. Masks were suddenly being worn everywhere and it seemed as if daily things were getting more and more out of hand. This was our life for the rest of the pregnancy and even after our little guy was born.

During this time there were a lot of concerns. Would my husband be allowed in the hospital when our baby was born? Would I have to wear a mask the entire time I was in the hospital, including during labor and delivery? Would it even be safe to have the baby at the hospital? How long would we need to stay away from family and friends once he was here? Will they only be able to see him through a glass door and not hold him? These were just some of the questions that constantly filled me with anxiety during this time. These were questions that never crossed my mind when either of my daughters were born and I couldn’t believe I had to consider them now. There were times I struggled not to let the anxiety become completely debilitating.

On Thursday, May 28th, at 39 weeks, we spent the day getting all our last minute things ready before baby came. We set up the baby monitor, cleaned more thoroughly, got laundry done, and had one last family outing as a family of 4 with a picnic in the park for dinner. We had a feeling that our little boy would be coming soon and spoke to the girls about how that might mean leaving for the hospital in the middle of the night and filled them in on what our plan would be with having their grandparents watch them. Little did we know how quickly that exact plan would be put into action. That very evening my contractions started again. I was up all night and didn’t get any sleep. They were getting more and more painful as the night went on. Finally at 1am I grabbed an apple, turned on “Friends”, and started timing them. They were coming about every 4 minutes and lasted anywhere from 30 seconds to 1 minute. I was worried about going to the hospital only to be sent home, disappointed that we weren’t going to have our baby yet. Finally, just before 3am I called the doctor, told them what was happening and was told to head to the hospital. I woke up my husband and told him it was time. We got our hospital bag, woke up the girls and got them settled with their grandparents. We said our goodbyes to our sweet girls who were wide awake and thrilled. We knew they probably wouldn’t be getting much more sleep that night as they anxiously awaited to hear the news that their baby brother was born.

We got to the hospital and the parking lot was nearly empty. We checked in through the ER entrance where, before we could enter, both of our temperatures were checked and they asked if we had experienced and shortness of breath, coughing, or had been around anyone with COVID-19. When everything checked out okay, they gave us masks and we were allowed inside. My husband was allowed in with me, but was told once in the hospital he would not be allowed to leave and re-enter. We were brought back where they monitored me for an hour to determine if I should stay or be sent home. Before long, it was determined that we would be staying to have our baby, and I was transported to the labor and delivery room. Once in our room we were allowed to take off our masks, although the hospital staff had masks on at all times. We only needed to wear ours when in the hallways, being transported to different rooms. I was so relieved when they informed me that a week earlier they changed protocol and moms didn’t have to wear masks during delivery. There was limited staff and the hospital seemed almost deserted with only one other patient who had their baby that same day.

I got my IV and got all set up, relieved to know that our baby boy would be born soon. We were so excited to meet him. Around 6am, the anesthesiologist came in and gave me an epidural. Now we played the waiting game as my body progressed for baby to come. Although I was progressing pretty well, they decided to help speed it up a bit by administering a small amount of Pitocin. As I was getting close to being dilated to a 10, they turned down the strength of the epidural so I would be able to feel the contractions and push better.

At 1:50pm, the nurses decided it was time to push and had me try before the doctor came in. At the next contraction I started to push and they immediately told me to stop and wait until the doctor arrived. It wasn’t going to take long for him to come. I waiting about 10 minutes before the doctor and nurses were all there and ready. They were completely covered without a bit of exposed skin anywhere. They had two sets of gloves on, a mask, face shield, and gowns. It almost looked like I was having a C-section the way they were dressed and prepared. There was no doubt that they were taking no chances and no risks, but were taking every precaution to keep both us and them healthy and safe.

It was 2pm when they were ready and told me to push on the next contraction. Our little boy was born 4 minutes later. I pushed through one contraction and he was here. I was able to watch the entire time because there was a light right above the hospital bed that was turned off and reflected it all. I had never watched before but there was something so amazing about being able to watch my baby be born. My husband, who is a little squeamish, has never been one to watch or cut the umbilical cords. This time, the doctor asked me if I wanted to, so I was able to cut the cord as well. They immediately put our little boy right on my chest for skin to skin time. He kicked his feet and managed to climb his way onto my face. The nurses were amazed and said they had never seen anything like that before. He was absolutely perfect – born on Friday, May 29, 2020. He weighed 7lbs 13oz and was 19.5 inches long.

Everything went as smoothly as possible. Other than not being allowed any visitors, it was a wonderful experience. We felt very safe and well cared for, and I have had a smooth recovery as well. We didn’t have contact with family or friends for about a month before he was born and almost 2 weeks after. Finally we allowed our immediate family to visit and hold him. While we have been very cautious, it was so incredibly hard not seeing family once we were home.

Despite how long it took us to get pregnant and the chaos that was going on in the world when he was born, I cannot deny the Lord’s timing. Our little boy has brought nothing but calm, peace, and joy at a time when that has been nearly impossible to find. I will always remember this amazing experience and the incredible blessings there were every step of the way.

Wasn’t that so beautiful? Even in the midst of a worldwide pandemic, birth is still such a beautiful thing! Thanks so much to Kaylee for sharing her story on the Honest Birth series! I’m hoping to have some more coronavirus birth stories coming soon, so keep checking back!

The post Honest Birth #35 featuring Kaylee Jones appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the thirty-fourth post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring Amy Motroni! Amy lives in California with her husband and two-year-old daughter. She has a blog called The Postpartum Party where she offers advice, encouragement, and support for new and expecting moms. She remembers how hard that phase was and wants to help new moms in any way she can. She also loves to travel, write, catch up with friends while drinking wine or mojitos, and she loves binge watching her favorite TV shows. This is the first time Amy has ever shared her birth photo, and I am thrilled that she’s doing it here on Honest Birth! She said her daughter’s birth felt like such a whirlwind and a bit of a hot mess. She was always a little envious of those people who have picture-perfect photos in the hospital holding their new baby, but bringing a human into this world isn’t always so picture-perfect! Today Amy is going to be sharing the C-section birth story of her daughter, Evelyn!

Ready to read all about her daughter’s birth? Here we go!

The Birth Story of Evelyn Motroni

I was one of the last of my friends to get pregnant so I had heard several birth stories before I ever had my own to tell.

The common thing among the majority of them was that labor and delivery never went according to plan. Lesson number one in motherhood is that babies have their own opinions and it’s hard to have complete control over most, if any situations.

I had a very loose birth plan (yes I wanted the epidural and no I didn’t want my whole family in the delivery room), but I also knew that anything was possible and I wanted to be prepared for that.

I went to my 40 week appointment, thinking my doctor would tell me to just keep waiting and wishing to go into labor. Even though everything was fine with my pregnancy, to my surprise she asked if I wanted to schedule an induction within the week.

If my baby came before then, we would cancel it, but this gave us a plan just in case my baby wasn’t making any moves.

We scheduled the induction for the following Tuesday and I went home with a plan.

Driving to the hospital on induction day was the strangest thing. It was so anticlimactic and nothing I had pictured from movies or TV shows. My husband and I went out to breakfast that morning as one last hurrah before we were parents. Then we just drove to the hospital and checked in. It was totally uneventful and incredibly odd.

They tried some more natural and less invasive induction methods first and those took forever. In about 6 hours after being induced with Cytotec, I hadn’t even progressed one whole centimeter. 

They inserted a foley bulb to try and help me progress. When the time came to take it out, the nurse struggled. She had to grab another nurse to help her. I’m not sure what happened but they got it out and there was a lot of blood and a lot of pain after that.

My legs started shaking uncontrollably. I had never experienced anything like it in my life. I asked for the epidural because I was in so much pain. The anesthesiologist told me to try and sit still but my legs would not stop moving.

Luckily I was able to keep my back straight enough to get the epidural. Once that kicked in, I was able to rest and sleep.

My body continued to slowly but surely progress. Eventually I was to the point where I could start pushing. Yay! It had been about 28 hours and I was ready!

As soon as I gave a few big pushes the doctor stopped me. My daughter’s heart rate dropped every time I pushed. We took a break, hoping that would help, but my daughter’s heart rate continued to drop every time I pushed. We played this waiting and pushing game for a bit before the doctor recommended a C-section.

I was devastated. Selfishly, I remember thinking that I had done all that hard labor for nothing. But I trusted my doctor so off to the delivery room they took me.

The anesthesiologist came in to do the spinal and I remember them telling me, “When you get in the operating room, you’re going to feel like you can’t breathe. Just remember if you’re talking, you’re breathing.”

I really didn’t think much of it. I’m not bothered by needles or blood or medicine or any of it, so I was just going with it.

As soon as they laid me on the operating table I. COULD. NOT. BREATHE. Being a rule follower and Enneagram 9, I politely told the doctor, “Excuse me. I know you said if I’m talking I’m breathing, but I really can’t breathe right now.”

I was gasping the words out. I knew they weren’t going to let me suffocate right in front of them but that is exactly what it felt like was happening.

The doctor came very close to me and said, “keep talking so you know you’re breathing.” I panicked and did the first thing that came to my mind.

I started singing my ABC’s. I was choking the letters out one by one, and before I knew it, my daughter was here!

I couldn’t believe how fast the surgery was. They put my sweet daughter—Evelyn—on my chest right away. I was a bag of emotions but glad she was here and it was finally finished.

I grieved my birth story for a long time. I wondered if I made a mistake getting induced. Maybe I should have done something differently. I was sad that I didn’t get to see the labor process through fruition and have a vaginal delivery.

And then around Evelyn’s first birthday a friend of ours lost their baby at 40 weeks. We were devastated and crushed for them. It was then that I realized it didn’t matter how Evelyn came into this world. She was healthy and happy and all ours. My birth story wasn’t a beautiful one, but someone beautiful came from it.

I love, love, love how Amy ended her story. Birth really can go so differently from what we plan, and while it’s hard to accept when it goes totally different, the most important thing really is a healthy baby and mama! Thanks to Amy for sharing Evelyn’s birth story and thanks to all of you mamas for coming to read it! Make sure you follow Amy on Instagram and Pinterest, and check out her blog, The Postpartum Party. And check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #34 featuring Amy Motroni appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the thirty-third post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring Kayla Solinger! Kayla and her fiancé Brian met 4 years ago at work. She did not know how much older he was than her, or that he had kids from a previous marriage. None of that mattered once she fell for him. They have been together for almost 4 years and on top of having a baby this year, they also lost their house in a fire 10 days after bringing their baby home. Having a blended family isn’t always easy but Kayla really wanted a baby of her own. They were unsure how the boys would react, especially the youngest one, but when they told them they were pregnant, they were shocked but so excited! And when they told them it was a girl, they jumped up and down with excitement, because they’d wanted a sister all along. Kayla’s stepsons, or “bonus kids,” are 16 (Sam) and 11 (Elliott). On top of having 3 kids, they also have 6 pets in our home (5 cats and a 100 lb lab). Their hands, and house, are full but they wouldn’t have it any other way. When Kayla and Brian aren’t working, they are usually binge watching on Hulu or Netflix and enjoy spending time with just their kids when they are all together. Today Kayla is going to be sharing the hospital birth story of their daughter, Rylie!

Ready to read all about her daughter’s birth? Here we go!

The Birth Story of Rylie Louise Anderson

One day in high school when I was feeling down, my mom said, “Kayla, some people are really good at sports, some are really good at school… you’re going to be a great mom.” Some people may see this as a little harsh but to me, it only made me sure that a mom is what I was meant to be.

When I got pregnant, I was just a few months shy of turning 28. I was nervous, anxious, and excited all rolled into one! My pregnancy started off pretty rough. I had awful morning sickness that started around 6 weeks, and lasted until nearly 15 weeks. I lost 7 pounds within a month and had absolutely no appetite. I struggled to get anything besides peanut butter sandwiches down. I switched insurance right when I first got pregnant, so I had to start with a new OB that I knew nothing about. Once I met her, I knew that she cared just as much about my pregnancy as I did and that my baby and I were in good hands. I am a baby when it comes to pain, so I knew I would NEED an epidural in order to make it through birth. There is always talk of a water birth or using a jetted tub for labor and I knew once I got an epidural, I would not be able to get out of the bed. I was totally okay with that as long as I wasn’t going to experience all the pain of childbirth.

My original due date was April 24th.  By the end of my pregnancy, I was 100% OVER. IT. I asked my doctor around 30 weeks when I could have my baby. I am a planner and the idea of having no clue when she would come caused a great deal of anxiety. I knew that I had to make it to 39 weeks before they would even consider inducing and that seemed like ages away. Around 32 weeks, I experienced high blood pressure and ended up at the hospital for a non stress test because I was also having contractions. Several tests and a few hours later, all I found out was that I was at risk of preterm labor. In order to induce labor naturally, I started using my breast pump nightly and also bouncing on my couch (I did not have a balance ball). At my 38 week appointment (a Wednesday), I decided to have my membranes stripped. There was also a snowstorm on the way and I live 45 minutes from the hospital, so my fiance and I decided to stay in Sioux Falls for the night “just in case.” My parents also decided to come stay in town so that they would be able to be there for the birth of their grandchild. Wednesday night passed (with lots of walking up and down the stairs at the hotel), but I had very few contractions. I decided to go to the Labor and Delivery triage just to see where I was at before going home since I had been dilated to a 3 at my appointment the night before. There was no change and I was not actively having contractions while I was there so they did not admit me but advised that I stay close by since the weather was pretty awful outside. We had already checked out of our hotel, so we got a room at the same hotel as my parents for Thursday night. Did I mention it was also my stepson’s birthday? We went to eat, stopped at the grocery store for some snacks and went to our new hotel and checked in early. I decided to take a bath and then laid down for a nap. I woke up an hour later with excruciating back pain and was wondering what the heck was going on. My mom was out running errands and I kept checking to see when she was coming back. We ordered a pizza, had my dad and sister come to our room, and waited for my mom. I was determined to get the baby out so I had my sister walk the halls with me and even went down to the fitness center to walk on the treadmill.

The back pain continued to come in waves and I was still in denial that this was actually back labor. I was using the contraction timer on my phone to see how close together the back cramping was. At this point, they were about 4-5 minutes apart. I spent the better part of an hour in the bathroom. Every time I would go, I would have a cramp (contraction) and need to go again. Little did I know, this was my body’s attempt to clean me out before labor. It got to the point where I was doubled over in pain over the bathroom sink and started “howling” from the pain (according to my mom). She had finally gotten back to the hotel from running errands and once she heard me in the bathroom, she told me it was time to go. I kept repeating “I can’t” because I truly did not believe it was time and I could hardly stand up straight at that point. The ride in the elevator to the lobby was awful, my fiance went to go get the car, and I simply could not wait at the doors for him to pull up so I started walking towards the car instead. We finally got on the road and it hit me that this was really happening. We barely made it a few blocks from the hotel and got stuck behind a train! As we were sitting there waiting for it to pass, I was not sure that I could continue to wait. I had my fiance turn around and take the back way to the hospital in order to avoid the train. Since we had already been at the hospital that day, I REALLY did not want them to send me home again. We parked in the Emergency Room parking lot and I walked in with my mom. We headed towards the front and I made it a few steps before I had to double over from the pain and realized I should probably ride in a wheelchair up to the Labor and Delivery floor. Once up there, I stated that I thought I was in labor and they escorted me to the triage room once again. I changed into a gown (again) and laid on the bed. It took all of 5 minutes for the nurse to come in and check me. Sure enough, I was already dilated to a 6 and was going to be admitted. I burst into tears. The first thing I asked once they told me I could stay was “Can I get an epidural now?”. My new room was only a few rooms down and I decided to walk because it was probably going to be one of the last times that I would be able to walk. Throughout all of this, I never once had contractions in my abdomen. It was ALLLL back.

Once I got into my delivery room, I got everything hooked up, got asked a million questions and was told they had put in the order for my epidural. PRAISE THE LORD! The super fun part about an epidural, other than actually getting it, is that you have to sit completely still while they poke a large needle into you back, even if you are having contractions. All of my contractions were in my back which made sitting still throughout my contractions feel nearly impossible. Thankfully, I had my mom in the room with me to distract me through each contraction while my back was being poked. Once the epidural was placed, I was thrilled to be able to lay down but my entire body was numb, so I was only able to have the nurses change my position in the bed. At this point, my waters were still in tact, so it was time to break it. If you were lucky enough to have your water break on your own, you may not know that a long piece of plastic, that resembles a knitting needle, is used to break the water. I was also given pitocin because an epidural can actually slow labor down. Who knew! I was very glad to have my mom and fiance with me throughout all of this. 

I was admitted to the hospital around 7:00 p.m. and was fully dilated just before midnight. We were convinced that if she made her appearance quickly, that she would share a birthday with her oldest brother. She had different plans. I was told at 11:58 that I could start pushing. Great, every 3 minutes doesn’t seem that bad. The only problem was that I struggled to get her head past my pubic bone. She would not budge. By 2 a.m. and still no baby, the doctor came in and gave me my options. I could either try the forceps (which were not guaranteed to be successful), take a break for a few hours and then start pushing again, or there was the option of a C-section. I was exhausted from pushing every 3 minutes for almost 2 hours and decided to give forceps a try. I just wanted my baby out. When I wrote my birth plan, I knew I did not want to use forceps or a vacuum because of what it can do to the shape of their head but after two solid, painful hours, I was ready to try it. I do not remember much of what was going on as I was being “prepped”. I just remember the feeling of being clamped. My mom and fiance later informed me that the room filled with people. The NICU team was necessary in case something went wrong, nurses flooded in, and some even came in just because they’d never seen a forceps birth before. I was told by the doctor that the success of forceps was all on me. If I did not push hard enough, then the forceps wouldn’t work. She told me I had to push harder than I have ever pushed because they were just guiding the baby out, not pulling. I braced myself and hoped more than anything that this would work. When the next contraction started, I was instructed to push as hard as I could and not stop until they told me to. I remember saying, “I can’t do it” and my mom telling me, “Kayla, she’s right there!” 

Rylie Louise Anderson was born at 2:07 am on April 12th, 2019. She weighed in at 6 lbs 6 oz and was PERFECT. When they first put her on me, I just remember saying “She looks so gross!” She was covered in vernix and in that exhausted moment, that was the first thing that came to my mind. I vividly remember when they first laid her on my chest and she reached her hand up and touched my chin. She stayed that way while I got stitched up, swearing I could feel every stitch (even though I had been numbed and had an epidural). I could not believe that she was finally here, I was a mom. My delivery nurse helped me nurse for the first time and she did so well! I noticed while we were laying there that fluid was leaking out of her nose and the nurse/doctor suctioned her for the first time since she was born. 

My recovery was nothing like I expected. I tore both inside and out, and sitting, standing, and laying down all caused pain to the point that I could not get comfortable. We got to our postpartum room at about 4 am and the nurses wanted me to try and go to the bathroom (shout out to the nurse that sprayed the water bottle while I went to the bathroom for the first time). After going to the bathroom, it was time to feed her. She had nursed like a champ at first and did great the second time around. I was exhausted and ready to sleep. She was placed in a bassinet next to me and I tried to close my eyes. I did not expect her to make all kinds of grunts and noises while sleeping and did not get any sleep. My fiance went back to our hotel room to get a few hours of sleep and came back around breakfast time. I tried nursing Rylie around 8 and could not get her to wake up enough to eat so decided to try again in 45 minutes. We had baby go to the nursery and we went to eat breakfast. 

On the way back, we grabbed baby from the nursery and went back to the room and waited for visitors to come. My mom, stepdad, stepsister, mother-in-law and father-in-law all came to meet the babe. She slept the whole time. Everyone commented on how peaceful and sleepy she was and did not think anything of it. Family left for awhile and baby and I rested again. My fiance went home to let our dogs out and I just rested. The lactation consultant came in and asked how everything was going, gave me advice and said it was okay that baby was sleepy as long as her blood sugar was okay. My postpartum nurse came in to check baby’s blood sugar and it was within normal limits but since she wasn’t waking up or eating, they decided to bring her to the nursery to check her out. While she was there, I fell asleep for the first time since waking up the previous morning. 

I was woken up by a NICU doctor around 1:30 pm (I am honestly not 100% sure what time it was) and informed that my baby was being transferred to the NICU. They were concerned that she wasn’t waking up to eat and that it was not really bothering her either. They had suctioned fluid from her stomach and felt that she was working so hard to breathe that she was exhausted. I broke down crying feeling like I had failed my baby. I texted my fiance that he needed to get back right away because I was terrified and not sure what to expect. Once my fiance arrived we went to the NICU to see my baby and had to watch them take blood for labs (which was from her head as it was the easiest point of access) and hook up her IV.  They stated that she was in respiratory distress and were not sure why but would be running tests and taking a chest x-ray to find an answer. She had several cords attached to her: IV, blood pressure cuff, and oxygen. She spent my entire postpartum stay in the NICU and it was not the relaxing, bonding experience that I had in my head when I prepared myself to have my baby. 

If I had to give advice to a mom about to have her baby, it would be to expect the unexpected. Your birth may not go the way you expect it to and that is okay. The goal at the end is to have a healthy baby and your doctor and delivery nurse will do everything to make that possible. 

Wasn’t that such a wonderful, exciting story? I was surprised about having to sit still for an epidural during contractions with my first baby, too! And doesn’t Kayla have the cutest family? I love Rylie’s new brothers’ reaction to seeing her in the picture above!! Thanks to Kayla for sharing Rylie’s birth story and thanks to all of you mamas for coming to read it! Make sure you follow Kayla on Instagram and check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #33 featuring Kayla Solinger appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the thirty-second post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring Amanda Stuhldreier! Amanda and her partner Tim met playing in a recreational soccer league and live in Winnipeg, MB, Canada (where she’s lived her whole life!). They have two kids, their son Ewan, who is 2-years-old, and their daughter Melanie, who is 10-months-old. Amanda juggles working full time as a Registered Nurse on a busy vascular unit, as well as being mom to her two kids. They love staying active together and enjoy running, biking, swimming, and soccer. Amanda loves trying new recipes in the kitchen, sweet or savory, with some success so far! You can follow her along on Instagram here. Today, Amanda is sharing the birth story of her daughter!

Ready to read her story? Here we go!

The Birth Story of Melanie Stuhldreier

I really wanted to share the birth story of my daughter because I didn’t see the problems I was having to be out of the ordinary during my pregnancy, and I didn’t listen to my body. My doctors didn’t listen when I said something was wrong after the birth, either, and I’d like to share this in hopes that this doesn’t happen to at least one other mom out there.

Since Melanie was my second child, I thought I knew what to expect. Let me tell you, every birth story is different. I was at the time breastfeeding my son when I got pregnant with Melanie; all the usual symptoms of pregnancy I didn’t notice to be quite honest. There were a few red flags but very subtle. Becoming nauseated brushing my teeth, not being interested in drinking coffee (I am a huge fan of coffee) and crying watching the movie Up (in the scene where his wife dies). We didn’t truly find out about her until I was already 15 weeks along; but I promise you we were just as excited as we were with our first.

This pregnancy was much different than my first. I got quite big, quite quickly, but I was all baby. I had a lot of trouble doing anything really – even just the dishes. I remember doing chores in 10 minute intervals and going to lie down for like 20 to 30 minutes before getting up again to try and finish what I started. I remember bringing this up at one of my prenatal appointments and being told this is normal when you’re pregnant. But with my first I made it 38 weeks at work, doing just fine. Something wasn’t right but I didn’t know what.

I was having a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions at work, which ultimately made me decide to go off work early after an episode of staying in the hospital over one weekend around 33 weeks (for dehydration). I remember one of the doctors coming in asking if I was still breastfeeding my son because I needed 6L of fluids.

Right around this same time at one of my prenatal appointments I was told I was measuring large for gestational age. We went for an extra ultrasound to check on baby but all we were told was everything was normal and that her back was just large.

At 39 weeks and 4 days I woke up in the early morning to notice I was leaking fluid. It wasn’t a large amount so we weren’t sure if my water had broken (this had happened 3 times with my first and always came back negative so we kinda weren’t sure if we really needed to go to the hospital) but we decided better to be safe than sorry. The results came back positive for amniotic fluid and I had the option to try to induce naturally or start Pitocin. I was feeling ready to meet our daughter and decided to be induced as we had absolutely no contractions even walking up and down flights of stairs for quite some time. Pitocin started at 3pm.

I didn’t start having strong contractions until 8pm and in 2 hours I went from 3cm dilated to 10cm, when I was told I could start pushing. During this time I used Fentanyl for pain control as I was in a lot of pain and was told an epidural was not an option anymore. My partner Tim also helped me through guided breathing; the nurse told him 3 times over the course of having met him that he should become a doula. I remember like it were yesterday the nurse saying “oh this is your second baby, two pushes and she’ll be out I promise”. Well nurses, don’t give this false hope to people because 1 hour and 45 minutes of pushing later my baby was born. They used a forceps delivery and because my baby was big she got her shoulder stuck during delivery and she also had a nuchal cord wrapped three times around her neck. They ended up having to dislocate her shoulder (shoulder dystocia) in order to get her out. I remember a resident pushing my sister away from helping with my legs in the stirrups because they really needed to get baby out. I was so relieved when the team of nurses and doctors took over her care to look after her but I ended up with postpartum hemorrhage. I blacked out twice, couldn’t tolerate sitting up and didn’t end up breastfeeding my baby for 8 hours postpartum.

After two blood transfusions and a bag of IV iron I was to transfer to the postpartum ward, but the weird thing was I couldn’t stand up. It took three people to get me, at 26, into a wheelchair. We later pushed to get an X-ray because I couldn’t stand or walk very well 2 days after having my daughter and found out I separated my pelvic bone during labour. It is called symphysis pubis and it happens between 1 in 300 to 1 in 30,000 births. My doctor didn’t believe it all because I was able to kind of weight bear. It took two weeks for me to be able to walk again once we were discharged home. The reason I feel so strongly about needing to share my birth story is that if you notice or feel something might be wrong with your pregnancy, it doesn’t hurt to ask and speak up for yourself.

Wasn’t that great? It really is so important to advocate for yourself! And if you feel like your doctor or care provider isn’t listening to you, it’s always okay to switch providers, even if you’re in the third trimester! Thanks to Amanda for sharing Melanie’s birth story and thanks to all of you mamas for coming to read it! Make sure you follow her on Instagram and check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #32 featuring Amanda Stuhldreier appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the thirty-first post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring my sister‘s sister-in-law, Rylee! Rylee and her husband Aaron live in Utah and have a two-year-old daughter named Malia. Rylee and Aaron met in Texas while serving missions for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Rylee enjoys being a stay-at-home mom, but has recently gone back to work as a massage therapist at a physical therapy office. Rylee also sells Polynesian ribbon leis! She and her husband love all things food, sports, family, and friends!

Ready to read her daughter’s story? Let’s do it!

The Birth Story of Malia Ve’e

I was due with my first baby on August 13th, 2017. On August 12th at around 11:30pm I started feeling really nauseated. I was uncomfortable and had serious lower back aches! I hopped in the tub to see if they would go away. They didn’t. I didn’t want to be one of those new moms who went into the hospital and demanded to the nurses that I was having a baby when I was just being a baby. So I called the hospital to talk to one of the nurses. I explained my symptoms and she said it sounded like labor and I should come in just to be safe. When I got to the hospital I was dilated to a 4.5! They admitted me and I got comfortable!

I had planned that my birth would be unmedicated, natural, and all that good stuff. My nurses were on board with that plan and helped me stay on track. One thing a certain nurse kept saying was “We just want a happy, healthy, mom and baby.” And while I agreed, I really wanted my birth to go my way. But I kept smiling and nodding as to agree with her.

My body was dilating SUPER slow, and not effacing. I tried walking around the hospital, bouncing on the peanut ball, and pacing my hospital room while being checked for progress every hour. Finally at 6:00am on August 13th (baby’s due date) the nurse checked me, I was at a 6 finally and she said “Baby is head down, with a head full of hair!” she then told me that she would have the doctor come in and break my water and we could get things going. 

Long story short, the on-call doctor didn’t come until 11:30 am. By that time my baby had decided to flip around and was now breech. I had 2 options–get a C-section and have the baby right now, or get an epidural and the doctor would try to flip her around. Well I was not about to give up that easy and just go for a C-section, so I got the epidural. They did tell me that they would need to give me a higher dose just in case they weren’t successful and I needed to be taken to do an emergency C-section. The doctor was successful in flipping her back so she was head down again. While he was flipping her around I started throwing up because I couldn’t handle all of that pressure on my stomach! After she was head down again the doctor broke my water and I got started on pitocin and I was finally back on track!

Well I labored ALL day. I was dilated to a 7, then an 8, and I was getting so excited! Contractions were getting intense and I had already had the epidural, so I decided to get another one to help cope with the pain. I plateaued at an 8. No progress for 2 hours. Doctor said it was because baby was not descending into the birth canal because her head was positioned in an odd way, and her hand was right by her head.. So they gave me an hour and checked again. Then another hour and checked again. One nurse came in around 10:00 pm and said “With every contraction you’re having we are losing the baby’s heartbeat for about 10 seconds.” I asked if that was dangerous and what needed to be done. The nurse hooked up one of those heart monitors and attached it onto the baby’s head so they could have a continuous heart beat. We were back on track again.

Finally it was 11:45pm. The doctor came in to check and when there was no progress he said “laboring this long with no progress is just causing distress to the baby and to your body.” He then suggested a C-section. I cried!! He said I could keep trying, or I could go back for a C-section. I wanted to have a “happy, healthy mom and baby” like the nurse said, so I decided I was going for a C-section. My husband and I were both prepped for the OR. We prayed, and cried together because this was not our plan. I was sad and I felt like my body had failed me. I laid sobbing on the OR table thinking about what a failure I was when all of a sudden at 12:18am on August 14th I heard that sweet baby girl cry for the first time!! The tears then changed from sadness to overwhelming joy!! I couldn’t believe I had a baby!! She was here and we were both healthy.

She weighed 7 lbs 11oz, and was 19.5 inches long with a head full of hair. She was perfect!

This was not the way I wanted to have a baby. I felt so many emotions in those 26 hours of labor, it was hard and long… BUT I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I was not a failure because I had to get an epidural, or because I had a C-section. My body is amazing! I was able to create a baby, and although I needed help with the delivery, I STILL HAD A FREAKING BABY! How amazing are our bodies!?

{Note: Rylee also wanted to include this as part of her story}  When we found out we were pregnant with Malia we had only been married for 3 weeks. It was not our timing at all. To me it was WAY too fast and I was sad that I didn’t get that special 1-on-1 time with my husband as newlyweds. Basically our whole marriage has always included a baby. Well fast forward to January 2018 when Malia was almost 6 months old and we started trying for our second one. We both wanted to have our kids close in age, but we were still in the “trying phase”. It has been a year and a half of trying with no positive results. I recently went to go see a fertility doctor and got on some medication but so far no luck for us. It is amazing to be on both sides of the spectrum; first with Malia coming way too soon and very unplanned, and now where we have been struggling and praying and wanting for so long. It just goes to show the timing is not our own. They come when they come and that’s okay. We just need to keep living our lives and not obsess over how perfect we want our family whether that’s how close our kids are, what gender they are, etc. I truly have so much respect for those mamas that struggle with infertility.

Wasn’t that beautiful? Sometimes babies don’t come the way we expect, but they are still such amazing blessings! And Rylee is absolutely right that the most important thing is a happy, healthy mama and baby! Thanks so much to Rylee for sharing her story on the Honest Birth series! Make sure you follow her on Instagram here! And check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #31 featuring Rylee Ve’e appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the thirtieth post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring Kara Erickson. Kara is the mother to two beautiful daughters; K, who is 2 1/2, and T, who is almost 1. They currently live in the PNW, and before that they spent the last five years in coastal Georgia. Kara loves to run, cook, bake, and most importantly, eat. You can find her most days of the week running with a double stroller pushing her two favorite passengers. You can follow along with her on Instagram @runningkerickson. Today Kara is sharing the emergency C-section birth story of her oldest daughter, K. 

Ready to read her daughter’s story? Let’s do it!

The Birth Story of K Erickson

K is a baby that my husband and I prayed long and hard to be able to have. Months and months of negative pregnancy tests had me wondering if, or at least when, I’d be able to have a baby of my own. I spent many months in a puddle of tears each time I found out it was another negative. I am blessed with an amazing husband who stood by me, and wiped countless tears away, hugged me, and cheered me up time and time again. I remember feeling broken, incomplete, and defeated. At the start of 2016 we sought answers to our failed attempts, we went through testing, and nothing seemed to give us answers as to why we couldn’t get pregnant. Doctors came to our aid and helped us see our options for having our family, and on March 17th at 24-years-old, we found out that with their help, we were finally pregnant, thanks to IUI.

I had a fairly textbook pregnancy. I had Braxton hicks contractions throughout my pregnancy. Apparently some people have that periodic tightening early on, and I was one of them. Up until 38 weeks, I exercised about 5-6 days a week, and other than some back/pelvic pain issues, and some foot numbness at the end of my pregnancy, I really can’t complain on how my pregnancy went. But at my 38 week appointment, my textbook pregnancy took an eventful turn.

I went in for my 38 week appointment after a trip to the gym that morning. I sat in the waiting room anxiously waiting to hear that I was more dilated than the 1cm I was two weeks prior. The nurses took my vitals, 138/84 she said as she read off my blood pressure. I knew immediately it was high, especially for me. My heart sank, but I went on my way back to meet the doctor. Everything seemed normal as I was examined, and with little to no progress, it seemed that I was about to go on my way. Dr. O opted to take my blood pressure again before I left though to see if it was a fluke or not, 136/82, still high, so I was told to make an appointment to come back on Monday (it was Thursday), and have my BP checked again. I was also told that if I had any vision changes, I needed to head to L&D. I felt prompted to ask the doctor if my headache from that morning was related to my blood pressure, and he quickly told me it likely was. We discussed that if my headache didn’t go away with Tylenol in the next few hours it was time to head to L&D.

I left the doctor feeling defeated, but hopeful that everything would be alright. I spent the rest of my day worried, as I felt my headache still lingering. That night, my husband and I decided to stop at the grocery store and check and see if my blood pressure was any better. We decided if it wasn’t lower we’d call the nurse hotline and head to the hospital. My BP this time was 155/78, I think. My heart sank and I took it twice hoping it would miraculously go down. I knew things were getting worse, and the nurse hotline advised us to go to the hospital ER where we’d be directed to L&D.

I packed what was left to put in my hospital bag, showered, and tried to stay calm as we made our way to the hospital. I had been so excited to meet our daughter, but here I was completely scared and worried, and terrified that I wasn’t ready for her to come yet.

As we arrived at the ER, things were far from smooth sailing. We were seen quickly, and my BP was now 196/84. I had a nurse that did my IV wrong, and I had no idea why on earth I was still in the ER when I had been told they’d take me up to L&D. I tried to stay calm, but my nerves were shot. (Funny story, I was given a pregnancy test in the ER, as if walking in 38 weeks pregnant and saying I was pregnant wasn’t enough). Long story short, after 2.5 hours of waiting we finally made it up to L&D and met our amazing L&D nurse Amanda.

Amanda took over my care, and it was such a breath of fresh air. She felt terrible the ER hadn’t called and she therefore hadn’t known I was downstairs. She got us set up, and then even transferred us to a larger room where my husband got a nice couch to try to get some sleep. The OB on that night called and complained to the ER about my poor care. I was then given Cervadil and the contractions started. I was uncomfortable, but tried to sleep.

Unbeknownst to me my mom had booked a ticket to GA to fly in the following morning! So as 9am rolled around, I sent my husband to pick her up because my labor wasn’t progressing quickly. The best news of the rough start labor was that Dr. O (my OB) was working that day in L&D, so he’d be watching over my care. Baby K seemed to be doing well, it all just seemed like it would be one big waiting game. Well, time went on, they removed the Cervadil early and got the Pitocin started.

I had really hoped to be able to have a natural childbirth, but my contractions and swelling started to be more than I could handle. Pitocin contractions are no joke! I remember crying to my husband and my mom that there was no way I could do it. I remember feeling so defeated. Well, time went on, and I was about 6-7 cm. I finally begged for an epidural. After the epidural, I was checked again and not too long after that, my water broke while Dr. O was there. I remember there being some blood and being very concerned, but they tried to tell me everything was normal.

Around 3pm K started not doing so well. Her heart rate started to show some fetal distress. My Dr. and awesome nurse worked together to try to keep her healthy. They started pumping me with fluid hoping it would help her thrive. My Dr.’s face showed that something wasn’t right, and he asked for an OR to be prepped just in case. I remember tears streaming down my face as I begged to not have to have a C-Section. My nurse kept trying to have me move around to find a way that would help K’s vitals to improve. All of a sudden things took off. Her heart rate started to skyrocket and then plummeted to extremely dangerous levels. I was given oxygen, and nurses seemed to start filing into the room. I remember hearing Dr. O as they all the suddenly couldn’t find her heart rate, and he made the call that it was time to head to the OR for an emergency C-section. I was completely hysterical and worried, and it all quickly became a whirlwind of going down the hall. I remember them telling me they’d come back for my husband, (I didn’t know he couldn’t come). I got into the OR and time seemed to be passing quickly, but somehow at a standstill as I knew every second was critical to my baby.

I remember listening to the anesthesiologist and hearing the nurses and Dr. O get set up and cleaning off my belly. And then it all goes dark. I was told later they got K out 90 seconds after I was out.

(6pm-ish) I’ll admit this part is still fuzzy to me, so the details may not be quite right as to who was where exactly, but I’ll try my best. I remember waking up from my C-section completely alone. I had no idea where my baby was, where my husband was, or where my mom was. I hit the call button I saw on my bed, but nothing happened. No one was there. I burst into tears, and started to call out trying to figure out what was going on. The nurses finally heard my desperate cries for help, and came to my side. I asked them to please find my husband or my mom.

Eventually, I was met by the NICU Dr. and I was told the news that I had given birth to a very sick baby. I was told she was born as white as a bed sheet (hypoxic) and that she had lost a lot of blood. I wasn’t told how exactly what she was doing. I remember not even knowing if she was alive. They finally got around to the part of telling me that she may have brain damage, and that she needed special care. I quickly asked that they please let my husband go be with her. My husband left my side and there I was again alone. In the next few hours my husband brought me my first pictures of our perfect, but very sick baby K. 5 pounds 15oz and 20.5 inches long. Even under all that medical equipment, she was perfect to me.

She was placed on something called an HIE protocol of three days on being in a medically induced sort of hypothermia to help repair potential brain damage, and then they spend the 4th day slowly warming our baby back up. We couldn’t hold her, and she was in a lot of pain. On day four, I was finally able to hold my daughter. For the first time I felt like a real mom, and not just someone chained to a pump trying to pump every two hours. It took 10 days for us to bring K home from the NICU and to get my high blood pressure under control.

My birth wasn’t what I imagined it would be. Some might see my c-section scar and feel bad or wonder if I’m “self-conscious” about it. Every time I see my scar, I think of how blessed I am that my daughter is alive today. Even now 2.5 years later she’s beating the odds. She shows no ill-effects from her rough start and we can’t imagine our lives without her.

Wasn’t that wild? Kara and I actually both had a very similar experience getting pregnant, but our births were so different. And I love how she has made peace with her emergency C-section, even though it was far from what she had planned for! Thanks so much to Kara for sharing her story on the Honest Birth series! Make sure you follow her on Instagram here! And check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #30 featuring Kara Erickson appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the twenty-ninth post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring my friend Lindsey Hawes. Lindsey and I met last year through church and have become good friends. Our kids love playing with each other, and we have the same sense of humor, which I really appreciate! Lindsey and her husband have three kids and live here in Minnesota. Lindsey was born and raised in Clinton, Tennessee, and besides being a stay-at-home mom, she battles dragons, negotiates complex sibling treaties, and cooks three course meals nobody eats due to “disgusting vegetables.” She constantly daydreams of the day when her singing voice will call to the woodland creatures, who will take over all cleaning duties, leaving sparkly perfection in their wake. Today Lindsey is sharing the birth story of her first baby, a girl, who is now eight years old. 

Ready to read her daughter’s story? Let’s do it!

The Birth Story of Avery Hawes

I was twenty-nine when I had my first baby. We had been married for four years and had purposely waited until my husband had finished grad school before starting our family. There were spreadsheets, budgets, and timelines. Greg had graduated and secured gainful employment, we had just purchased our first house, and things were going along perfectly. We thought we had everything planned (I mean it was on a spreadsheet) and we were totally ready. But life happens.

Upon graduating, Greg and I moved to Minnesota where he could pursue a career in public accounting. In case you’re unfamiliar with accounting firms, there’s something called “busy season,” (typically January-end of March) where employees are “strongly encouraged” not to take any vacation or leave. So, this was taken into account during our family planning. We were ecstatic to find out I was due March 24 because this fit in perfectly with our timeline. So, we found a house, moved in and started getting ready for a baby.

I don’t want to brag or anything but I throw up A LOT when I’m pregnant. With my first pregnancy, that first trimester was a killer. Morning, afternoon, evening, it didn’t matter, I was constantly nauseated. I lost around 10 lbs. those first few months. Food didn’t sound good, look good, or even taste that great. Random things would make me sick. The worst was probably the morning I had frosted flakes come out of my nose while throwing up. So gross. And yet it tasted EXACTLY the same. I’ll never forget it. The first trimester finally gave way to the second and with that transition my body acclimated to its new purpose. Doctors appointments were going well. The baby was measuring a good week or so ahead size wise. The holidays came and went and soon it was January.

January in Minnesota means cold and snow….and basically all the things you associate/hate about winter. Greg was now in the throws of busy season which meant 80-90 hour work weeks and me home alone the majority of the time. Monday, January 25th it snowed a little, maybe a half inch, and I decided to shovel it. Please don’t mistake, I never actually lifted anything. I merely scooted the snow around with a shovel. It wasn’t heavy, or strenuous. But I was tired afterward. I was 32 weeks pregnant and thought that was pretty par for the course; then my back started aching a bit. Again, nothing major, it felt kind of like a running cramp. I took some Tylenol and the pain disappeared. Greg got home and I went to bed. Around 5 in the morning my back started aching a little bit again so I got up and took some more Tylenol and watched a Discovery Channel special on the ancient Egyptians. (It’s funny the things you remember.) I also truly believed that I had just somehow tweaked a muscle in my back and this had nothing at all to do with the baby; I mean, I wasn’t due for another 8 weeks.

The day was uneventful. No weird aches or pains. No more snow. I read, cleaned, and made plans to meet with my sister-in-law to pick out paint for the baby’s room. Greg and I were picking out baby furniture that weekend and we were going to be SO ready when the baby came.

We were fools.

Around 8 pm on January 26th I got up from the couch with a list of tasks to complete. 1. Go to the bathroom. 2. Get a granola bar. 3. Get my phone charger because my phone was dead. 4. Get a blanket because it’s cold in Minnesota in January. When I stood up and started walking up the stairs I noticed I was…. dripping. The first thing I thought was “Oh man, I heard this could happen. I probably should have gone to the bathroom sooner.” So, I went to the bathroom and discovered, after relieving myself, I was still dripping.

In the movies they show a woman’s water breaking with a huge gush of water and a dramatic puddle forming at her feet. Let me reiterate, that wasn’t what happened. This was a small faucet drip, constant and annoying but not unmanageable. However, I was home alone (Greg was still “accounting” somewhere) and figured I needed some advice from a professional. So, I called my doctor.

Dr. Peterson was a wizened professional with decades of experience and thousands of babies delivered. He helped advocate for a woman’s right to choose epidurals or natural births and he LISTENED to me. I trusted him completely. (I still do…he didn’t die or anything, but he did retire.) When I told him I was leaking he calmly told me to come in and get checked out. He was so calm I didn’t think twice about it and figured I’d be sent home soon after with a pat on the head. I then called my husband and left a short vague message about going to the hospital and to call me back immediately. I was calm because I didn’t believe we were having a baby yet. I was still trying to convince myself that I was totally overreacting and I had just peed myself because given the two choices, peeing myself was actually the BETTER alternative, which isn’t the case most of the time.

I called my mother-in-law, as Greg was still not answering his phone, and asked if she’d mind giving me a ride to the hospital which she quickly agreed to. Then I started running around my room, pretty much in circles, trying to think of things to pack just in case this was really IT (I was still thinking this might all be a HUGE mistake). I packed clothes for myself and a few things for Greg, and half the toiletry items I need…and when I say half I mean half, like I packed my toothbrush but no toothpaste, and I packed my deodorant but forgot Greg’s, stuff like that. And you have to know me but I am a little obsessive compulsive about packing so after everything was said and done, finding out I had done this DROVE ME CRAZY (and that’s why they tell you to have a hospital bag ready to go).

My mother-in-law Faye arrives to find me running all over the place (leaving a nice cute little trail in my wake in the process). She calmly tells me to get in the car. I ignore her the first three times and try to finish packing before she finally says, “Lindsey, GET IN THE CAR.”

You see at this point I still FELT fine, no pains, no contractions, no nothing, except for that pesky back pain that I got from “shoveling.” It wasn’t until we were halfway to the hospital that I started to feel cranky and all of a sudden, my stomach hurt.

Faye took me to the Emergency Room entrance and a nice man wheeled me up to the maternal assessment unit in an old-fashioned wheelchair that looked like it belonged on the set of a 1920’s horror movie. Greg was already there and I was SO glad to see him. He was so calm.

We got to the assessment unit around 9:30 pm and that’s when the McCarthyesque interrogation began. Let me tell you, I have never answered SO many questions in my entire life than on that night. And frankly it is the WORST time to be asking anybody questions. I understand they need to know medical information like are you allergic to air and things of that nature, but really do you need to ask me “How do you handle pain?” (to which I responded–I DON’T TALK.) My stomach hurt and my back hurt and people would NOT STOP talking to me. At some point the nurse came in and told me I was already a “5” which meant there was no turning back, and I was really having the baby…like right then.

You know how they tell you “you can’t describe labor pain?” Well that’s TRUE. You live pain to pain. Moment to moment. My only thought was, “You’re going to be ok. Women do this all the time so you’re going to be ok.” Then the nurse asked me what my pain level was; I thought about it for a minute and said “7”…why did I say “7?” Because a “10” would be like burning alive while drowning in my mind…and I didn’t feel that badly yet. Then the nurse asked “So how high do you want to go before you try pain meds?” That’s when I said “Uh not much higher thank you.” So they ordered an epidural. I’m pretty sure the nurse kept asking me questions, but I ignored her.

Greg, however, was great! He didn’t talk to me at ALL and if he did it was only to ask if I was doing ok. He would wink or smile or softly pull my hair out of my face and pat or hold my hand. He was PERFECT. Bonus points to him for actually listening to my answers.

After I was fully “assessed” they wheeled me to what I call the intermission room, mostly because I don’t know what else to call it. There I received an epidural. Up until that moment I hadn’t really decided if I was going to try the natural route or go with an epidural, but at that moment I was truly grateful for the drugs. Things were happening fast and furious. And there was an underlying feeling of deep apprehension; 8 weeks early isn’t extreme, but it is early. The nurse told me I’d be in the intermission room until I was a “10,” so I figured I had a while—I was TOTALLY wrong. After getting the epidural they checked me and I was a “9.” Time check: approximately 12:00 AM; so off we went.

After receiving the marvelous medicine, they wheeled me into the super sterile and white and bright delivery room. Contractions were coming fast and furious. The doctor asked if I’d like to watch in the mirror. That was a big nope for me; I’m not good with blood and grossness. The nice nurse lady asked me if I was ready, and I said “sure, let’s do this.” She promptly responded “oh honey this part will probably take hours.” Challenge accepted. I pushed for 24 minutes and then there she was, placed on my chest all gooey and screaming. Cone head and all. I couldn’t believe it, still can’t believe it, really. It all happened SO fast. Avery was 4lbs 10 oz. and 17 1/2 inches long. She never needed oxygen and only had to remain in the NICU for 17 days. Many prayers were answered that night. She, though 8 weeks early, was perfect, and we count our blessings everyday that her birth was as positive an experience as it was.

Wasn’t that so crazy? You never really know what labor is like until you go through it yourself, and even then it’s hard to believe it’s really happening! Thanks so much to Lindsey for sharing her story on the Honest Birth series! And check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #29 featuring Lindsey Hawes appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the twenty-eighth post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring Renee Osborn. Renee and her husband have been married for five years and live in Colorado Springs, CO. They have three kids, Avery, Lilah, and Piper, and are expecting their fourth in September! Renee is a stay-at-home mom and is graduating this summer with a business degree. She loves baking, swimming, and outdoor adventures, and you can follow along with her on her Instagram account here. Today she’ll be sharing the hospital birth of her third child, Piper! She had a traumatic birth experience and is still working to process it, but she has a great message to other mamas with traumatic stories, too!

Ready to read her daughter’s story? Let’s do it!

The Birth Story of Piper Osborn

March 30, 2018 was the hardest, scariest day of my entire life. It is also our beautiful Piper’s birth day.

Throughout my entire pregnancy with Piper, I looked forward to her birth. I was excited for a medication-free, vaginal birth, after my 2 previous inductions.

But, around 34 weeks I was diagnosed with polyhydramnios, which just means I had extra amniotic fluid. There are risks with polyhydramnios, including preterm labor, placental abruption, and umbilical cord prolapse, but they are small, and I was monitored closely. Around 37 weeks, I had an ultrasound that showed my fluid levels had returned to normal. After that, they stopped the extra monitoring.

At 40 weeks, my doctor could see that I was extremely uncomfortable after several rounds of false labor and decided to induce me. My instincts had told me all along that my polyhydramnios had not resolved, so I was relieved to finally be able to deliver Piper.

We arrived at the hospital in the early morning hours of my due date, filled with nervous excitement to meet our little girl. The induction began with Pitocin right away, and I had informed the nurses that I would not be receiving an epidural. Even though I was being induced, I had dreamed of an epidural-free birth my entire pregnancy. I was ready.

Contractions began by 10am, and they increased in intensity quickly. My husband, Eric, was rubbing my back, helping me breathe, and making sure my playlist was keeping me happy and motivated. By 4pm, I had been having contractions every 2-3 minutes for most of the day, and they were intense. I was exhausted, but still motivated. But I wasn’t dilating, and we were all getting concerned. I had been at 4cm all day.

Then, my doctor decided to break my water in the hopes it would help dilate my cervix. It was extremely painful–my water had broken on its own with my other two. When we saw the gush, everyone gasped. Then my doctor said, “Well, you definitely still had polyhydramnios.” I had never seen that much fluid!

Almost immediately after my water broke, I knew something was wrong. And then my nurse rushed in and stared at the heart rate monitor in eerie silence. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but I was thick in contractions that seemed to be right on top of each other and couldn’t get a word in.

Then, from behind me, I noticed her pushing buttons and all of a sudden, my room was filled with people. That’s when they told me–Piper’s heart rate was dropping with each contraction and they needed to see what was going on. My doctor rushed in and checked my cervix immediately, and then said, “Ok, I feel cord!” Then the nurse hit the code blue button–Piper no longer had a heart rate.

Her umbilical cord had been pushed into my cervix by the extra fluid, and every time I contracted, it was compressed and stop Piper’s flow of oxygen. My doctor explained she needed to keep her hand in my cervix to try and hold the cord up during contractions, and then we immediately left the room to go to the OR. We were flying through the hall, I was completely naked and exposed, my doctor straddling me with her arm inside of my vagina, as unsuspecting moms strolled the halls trying to encourage their own labors. In a fleeting moment I wished I was one of them.

As we reached the OR, Eric was instructed to stay outside. I knew he would be so worried, and my heart ached to go in this room without him by my side. But I also knew he would be ready to take care of Piper as soon as she was delivered.

They transferred me to a new bed, my doctor still on top of me. She was screaming for anesthesia. I was sobbing and my heart was racing, even as contractions roared through my body, and I was screaming, “Please just save my baby,” over and over. My doctor started yelling, “I need to cut, I need to get this baby out.” Anesthesia was still setting up and the doctor was holding her scalpel. I was still screaming to save my baby, and my doctor said, “I am going to try.”

I was put under general anesthesia, but not before my doctor started slicing open my stomach to save Piper. I didn’t care. I would have stayed awake if it meant they would save her faster.

I remember hearing beeping of monitors as I opened my eyes. I was disoriented, Eric was gone, and I didn’t know where I was. I saw a nurse typing at a computer, and then another nurse carried in a pink, crying baby and my heart began to race. “She’s ok!” I thought excitedly. Then she looked over at me, seeing that I was awake, and said, “I’m so sorry hunny. This one isn’t yours.” And I began sobbing uncontrollably. The nurse came over to me and without a word, increased my pain medicine until I became so drowsy I could barely keep my eyes open. But inside, I was screaming, “Where is my baby? Is she alive? I don’t care about my pain I just want my baby!”

Some time passed, and I was hysterical. I wanted my baby, I wanted Eric, I wanted answers. Finally, Eric came through the doors and I felt a weight lift. “Is she ok?” I sobbed. And then he pulled out his phone, and showed me a picture of the most beautiful gift I could ever imagine–Piper. She was hooked up to monitors and oxygen, but she was okay. I sobbed and sobbed and finally felt ok. My baby was ok.

Later, I learned that Piper had been born blue and unresponsive, and they whisked her out of the room and performed CPR while wheeling her to the NICU. They were readying the Flight for Life helicopter to take her to Children’s Hospital until miraculously, she became responsive. The doctors were completely shocked, but I wasn’t.

Our girl was, and will always be, a fighter.

I finally met my daughter five hours after she was born, and it was the most beautiful moment I could have imagined. I could barely see her through all of my tears, but feeling her warm skin against mine was magic. She wasn’t allowed to eat the first night because all her organs were in shock, but the next morning I was able to breastfeed her, and everything fell into place.

Three days later, all three of us walked out of the hospital, leaving the shock and trauma behind us. The anesthesiologist came to visit as we were discharged and she said she was overwhelmingly shocked that we were able to leave so quickly. “A true miracle,” she said with a smile.

The hardest part of my birth story was the underwhelming response I received from family. Most people said, “Well, it’s ok because everyone is healthy,” as they dismissed the trauma I had experienced. And the reason I wanted to share this story is that it is ok if your birth left you less than ok. It is ok to own your trauma, even if everyone was healthy in the end. The memory of that day haunts me, and for many months afterward I could not close my eyes without seeing the doctor slice me open, saying she would try to save Piper. I have suffered from severe anxiety as I work through that day, and that is ok.

Piper and I share a deep connection from the experience we shared, and every single day I am so grateful to have her here with us. I saw how close we were to losing her, and to have her here instead is truly a miracle. But even still, it will take me a long time to accept her birth story, and if your birth story didn’t go as planned, just know that it is ok to grieve what you didn’t have, and it is ok to take as long as you need to process the emotions that came as a result of that birth.

Wasn’t that so inspiring? I love what Renee has taken away from her daughter’s birth! I agree that it’s okay to take time to mourn not getting the birth you expected! Thanks so much to Renee for sharing her story on the Honest Birth series! Make sure you follow Renee on Instagram. And check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #28 featuring Renee Osborn appeared first on Life With My Littles.

Hey mamas! Welcome to the twenty-seventh post in my Honest Birth series! I’m excited to share another real mama’s birth story, because I think it’s so important to share our childbirth experiences with each other. My goal with this series is to provide a place for women to share their birth stories without holding anything back, as well as compile stories for pregnant mamas to read in preparation for their own childbirth experiences. Every mama is different and every birth is different, and I believe that when we share our stories we help each other.

Today I am featuring Cindy Maudsley! Cindy was born and raised in Littleton, Colorado (my hometown, too!) but now calls Bountiful, Utah home. She has been married for 12 years and has three beautiful daughters. She gets to be a stay-at-home mom, which she loves. She is also a Netflix binge watcher and an avid reader. She loves shopping at Target, dark chocolate, volunteering at church and at her daughters’ school, and spending time with family and friends. Surviving the Columbine High School shooting as a teenager, battling infertility as an adult, and knowing she is a daughter of God has helped her to to look for the good in the world and focus on the tender mercies in her life. Her passion is writing and sharing her heart and soul with others at https://infertilitees.com/. You can find her on Instagram at @infertili.tees and @cindymaudsley. Today she’ll be sharing the birth story of her third baby!

Ready to read her daughter’s story? Let’s do it!

The Birth Story of Ivy Maudsley

I gave birth to my third daughter on January 18th , 2019. She was our biggest baby weighing in at 6 lbs. 15 oz. and she came with a head full of thick, beautiful hair.

We named her Ivy and she immediately stole our hearts.

Ivy’s birth was very much anticipated for many reasons. The main one being that we had to wait seven years for her to join her big sisters. Infertility is something my husband, AJ, and I have struggled with our entire 12 year marriage.

I had out first daughter, Lyla, in 2009 after our first successful round of IUI. A little more than two years later we conceived our second daughter, Phoebe, on a third round of IUI. I gave birth to her at 35 weeks via cesarean section due to a condition I had called placenta previa.

Not quite two years after her birth we decided to try for a third baby and we went straight to our fertility doctor- thinking we would again conceive fairly easily through the process of IUI.

However, things didn’t work out according to our “our plan” and we spent the next five years trying to get pregnant.

In those five years I had three minor surgeries to remove uterine polyps from my uterus and we did 16 rounds of IUI. Yes- sixteen! None of them resulted in a positive pregnancy test.

We also did two rounds of IVF in 2015- one with fresh embryos and one with frozen embryos. They both ended in chemical pregnancies.

We took a couple years off from treatment and lived our life as a family of four. It was so good for our souls! We went to Disneyland, we learned to be content in our situation and our hearts healed–but mostly we didn’t live every moment worrying about our next fertility treatment.

In 2018 our hearts were turned toward the idea of doing IVF again. We learned my husband’s insurance through his place of employment now covered a good portion of fertility treatments. With guarded hearts and a lot of faith we moved forward with IVF in April 2018. We were able to create several healthy embryos and chose to implant one.

The day after Mother’s Day we got the news that we were pregnant! We were incredibly excited, humbled, shocked and grateful.

Soon after I was battling intense morning sickness and fatigue that lasted until my 20th week and lingered on for the duration of my pregnancy. I suffered some pretty bad prenatal depression toward the end of my second trimester and into the beginning of my third that became a trial I didn’t anticipate.

I also had the usual aches and pains of pregnancy. I had Braxton Hicks starting at 20 weeks and sharp pains in my groin that made it hard to stand up or sit down for long periods of time. And as hard as it all was, feeling my baby move and cradling my growing belly kept me excited and grateful, and I can say 100% that I would go through it all again to get our sweet little Ivy here.

Throughout my pregnancy at every prenatal appointment I would discuss with my doctor my plan to have a successful VBAC delivery. She was very supportive of that and also very conservative with wanting to make sure we did it carefully. We wanted to avoid the possibility of having a uterine rupture due to my previous c-section.

I would have wanted to be induced at 37 weeks due to my anxiety, but my doctor was very clear that it would be safer to avoid being induced when trying for a VBAC. We both hoped that I would go into labor naturally.

At 38 weeks I was dilated to a 1.5 and my doctor stripped my membranes to try and help things along. Because of that and the fact that I was having so many contractions I was convinced I would go into labor that night.

Nope. Nothing happened.

At my 39 week appointment I was one day away from my due date. My doctor then told us we could go ahead and schedule an induction because I had made it to 40 weeks.

She surprised my husband and I when she told us we could even go in the next night to be induced. She stripped my membranes again in hopes of me going into labor on my own before then, but that didn’t happen.

So the next night we left for the hospital around 9 PM full of excitement and anticipation, and before we knew it, we were checked in, I was in a hospital gown and hooked up to the monitors and receiving my IV.

My doctor didn’t want to start me on Pitocin right away. She inserted what we call “the balloon thingy” that they fill with saline that is supposed to help expand the uterus so the cervix can dilate on its own. It wasn’t too painful- just uncomfortable. Soon the contractions started to get stronger and painful. I knew it was a good sign and hoped that it meant for a quick delivery.

A couple hours later our nurses came in and told us that the baby’s heart rate was continually going down with each contraction. They were concerned about it but wanted to monitor it. I asked why it was happening and was told it could be because the baby was laying on her umbilical cord wrong, it was around her neck or she just didn’t like the side I was laying on. So I was alternating being on my left and right side quite frequently trying to regulate baby’s heart rate.

They then suggested that if I wanted an epidural that I should have it then in case they needed to send me in quickly for a c-section.

The epidural is something I definitely wanted and I just pushed away any anxiety about it because I knew it had to be done. I held my husband’s hand and the anesthesiologist went to work. At one point my husband got super light headed and felt like he was going to pass out just from watching the doctor and not actually seeing the needle in my back. The nurses told us that was pretty common!

After my epidural it was a waiting game. I couldn’t sleep even though it was well into the evening/early morning. Every half hour or so our nurses would come in and update on our baby. My doctor was at her house but had access to the monitors at home and she was also aware of what was going on.

Around 3 AM they took the balloon thing out and that’s when my water broke. I was also dilated to a six at this point–it had done its job and I was in active labor. There was some miscommunication and I was then given Pitocin for a couple hours even though my doctor did not tell them to give it to me. Once she realized it, she made them stop because it was making me have really strong contractions (which we wanted to avoid because of wanting to avoid uterine rupture).

From about midnight to 7 AM the nurses put me in different positions to try and get the heart rate to stop dipping down. They gave me an oxygen mask to wear and that seemed to help a lot.

During those hours I was a nervous wreck worrying about our baby.

During this time I was convinced that I just wanted to do a C-section again. I wanted her out and didn’t want to wait for her heart rate to be in danger. We told the nurses that we were not at all opposed to a C-section and that we would prefer that if we needed to. 

Around 7 AM the baby’s heart rate and oxygen were continuing to decrease with every contraction and I was still only around 6 or 7 cm dilated.

They also discovered that although she was head down, she was posterior–meaning she was facing up.

They put a giant peanut shaped Styrofoam pillow between my legs and had me lie on my side for a couple hours. This was supposed to help her turn face down.

By 9:30 AM nothing had changed with her heart rate and I was feeling super scared and nervous and just wanted her in my arms.  AJ and I decided that we were going to push for a C-section at this point because we didn’t feel it was worth waiting it out to see if she would improve.

The charge nurse came in shortly after and asked how I was doing. I burst into tears.

I was exhausted and worried. We told her that we just wanted to have a C-section. That we were worried all night about her heart rate continuing to dip and it wasn’t worth it to us to have a VBAC at that point. The nurse was very understanding and told us she would advocate for us to our doctor to get started with a C-section.

But first, she said, she needed to check me to see where I was at.

She then excitedly told us “actually you are having this baby now!” I was at a 10 and the baby had turned face down.

I couldn’t believe that it was actually time and we would be meeting this little miracle that we had waited so long for in just a matter of minutes.

Within ten minutes our doctor was in the room (she even beat all the nurses) and we began to prep for pushing.

There were about four or five nurses surrounding me, one held my left leg and my husband held the other.

Pushing for me is so hard.

I couldn’t catch my breath, my oxygen mask kept getting in my face (looking back we should have just taken it off) and I was so tired. The nurses all cheered me on- telling me how awesome I was doing. And that morale really helped. After about ten pushes in under ten minutes she was almost here!

I was losing steam though. That is until one of the nurses told us her heart rate was not good and I had to get her out right then. And with that motivation, I gave a final push and our sweet baby girl was born.

I couldn’t catch my breath for a minute but as soon as I did I took in the miracle baby girl we had created and prayed for, as they laid her on me. She was screaming but it was the most beautiful sound ever. After waiting for her for so long it was the most incredible feeling to hold her in my arms. Both my husband and I cried tears of joy, happiness and relief.

She was here and she was worth the wait.

Wasn’t that so inspiring? I love Cindy’s story, her faith, and her story! Infertility sucks and it’s so common. It’s important to remember that you’re never alone in your struggle, and there’s always hope! Thanks so much to Cindy for sharing her story on the Honest Birth series! Make sure you follow Cindy on her blog https://infertilitees.com/ and on Instagram at @infertili.tees and @cindymaudsley. And check back next month for another Honest Birth post!

The post Honest Birth #27 featuring Cindy Maudsley appeared first on Life With My Littles.