Let's just start by saying that nothing
about how you entered this world went as your Father and I planned,
except the fact that you are here and you are perfect. Your birth
story really starts when I was about 34 weeks pregnant. We visited
the midwife, who felt my belly and determined you were head down. I
was so relieved, this was one less thing to worry about. I continued
my prenatal yoga practice, and whole heartedly performed my deep
squats and Goddess poses knowing your head was rooted in my pelvis.
On our next visit to the Birth Center,
to our surprise, the midwife felt my belly and found you to be head
up. She thought maybe you flipped, but I think you were head up all
along. I'd been feeling a large bump in my ribs for weeks, and it was
always a little to large, round and hard to be your butt. The midwife
confirmed your position with an ultrasound. I was devastated, I
immediately knew your breech position meant I wouldn't be able to
give birth at the Birth Center, and there was a good chance I'd need
to have a scheduled c-section. My hopes for a natural birth were
disappearing before my eyes. The midwife gave me a few resources for
strategies for flipping breech babies, and we got started that day.
I started at home with the inversions,
balancing head first off the couch and hanging up-side-down on your
Grandfather's inversion table. I visited the chiropractor multiple
times a week, and saw the acupuncturist, who performed moxibustion. I
wore a belly band at work to prevent you from slipping too deep into
my pelvis, and to prevent a spasm of my round ligaments. I wore an
ankle taping to strengthen my ankle ligaments in hopes of
straightening out a twist in my pelvis. We saw an obstetrician who
attempted a manual external version, which was very painful for me,
and probably not awesome for you. Needless to say, we tried
everything. Though I held out hope, and was boosted by stories of
babies flipping the day of delivery, I started to believe that there
was a reason for your position and I was trying to force something
that was not meant to be.
During the weeks when we were trying to
flip you, people started to mention Dr. Hartung. He was an OB out of
Hudson that continued to practice the disappearing art of vaginal
breech delivery. Many people in the birth community knew who he was,
including the midwives, the chiropractors, and the folks at Blooma,
my prenatal yoga center. I did some research, and made an appointment
with him, knowing I needed to explore this option. He squeezed us in
at the last minute when I was 38 weeks pregnant.
Having done the research, I knew there
were a number of criteria we needed to meet in order to attempt a
breech delivery. You needed to be frank breech, not too big, and have
your head flexed in the right position. When these criteria were met,
outcomes for vaginal delivery were the same as cesarean section for
breech babies, despite lower initial Apgar scores. We saw Dr.
Hartung, and discovered you met all these criteria, and we were good
candidates for vaginal delivery.
Despite Dr. Hartung's confidence, I
continued to be unsure of the best way to deliver you. I believed
strongly that I needed to go into labor spontaneously, and that the
process of labor and delivery was very important to your health, and
mine. There are risks with scheduled c-sections, but there were also
risks with breech delivery. Everyone had an opinion, and I struggled
with it until the day you were born, frustrated that the right choice
didn't reveal itself clearly. We made to choice to deliver you the
old fashioned way, knowing we could change our minds at anytime. For
the first time in weeks, I felt relief, knowing we had a plan. When I
went into labor, we would deliver you with Dr. Hartung at Woodwinds
Hospital, unless you flipped. In that case we would return to the
Birth Center to deliver you there.
It was May 15th, my 32nd
birthday. Your Dad was at work, and I took myself to the salon to get
one last pedicure before your arrival. As I was waiting for my toes
to dry, a huge wave of nausea hit me. I thought maybe it was the nail
salon fumes, but knew that this was also an early sign of labor. When
it didn't pass after a few minutes, I headed home to avoid barfing in
public. I came home and threw up, this was the only time I threw up
during my entire pregnancy. I laid on the couch and waited to see if
anything else would happen. Soon enough I felt a strange sensation,
and low and behold, my water broke. It was 1pm, I never expected my
water to break. I ran to the bathroom with my phone, and called your
Dad. He was in Chaska, and rushed home within minutes. I called Dr.
Hartung, and he told me I could wait at home until my contractions
were 6-8 minutes apart. I made myself a sandwich, cleaned up the
house a bit, and barely breathed I was so nervous. The contractions
seemed a little irregular, but they also seemed to be getting closer
together. I this point, they didn't hurt too bad. They just felt like
terrible cramps, and caused me to breathe a little deeper. After
about an hour, I called Dr. Hartung, and told him we were heading
toward the hospital.
We arrived around 3pm, and got set up
in our room. Dr. Hartung arrived and we talked though the plan. I
gave him our birth plan, and told him one important thing was that I
didn't want to know how dilated I was. At the birth center, they
would not have checked my cervix, and I was unsure how I would deal
with knowing how things were progressing in this way. I thought it
better not to know. There wasn't too much else to cover, I knew I
couldn't have an epidural, and wouldn't get Pitocin, as these were
contraindicated in a breech delivery. I just stressed that I wanted
you to be given to me immediately, and have you stay there as long as
we wanted. This was incredibly important to me, and the impossibility
of this was one of the reasons I really didn't want a c-section. Dr.
Hartung agreed, and decided to check as see how dilated I was,
without thinking he immediately said “4 centimeters.” He quickly
realized what he did, and apologized profusely. I was already over
it, I was glad to know, and unsure of why I didn't want to know in
the first place.
I continued to labor for the next few
hours. Dr. Hartung went home to eat some dinner, and your Dad and I
walked the halls of the hospital. The contractions didn't really seem
to be getting that much worse, but they did get closer together. We
went back to the room, and your Dad ate some dinner. I sat on the
birth ball, and continued to let the contractions wave over me. Dr.
Hartung came back to the hospital and decided to check me again. This
time I was six and a half centimeters. Things were moving along. Dr.
Hartung suggested I get in the tub, and I thought it was worth
trying. I climbed in, and floated in the water as the contractions
came and went. They started to become strong enough that I couldn't
talk, and instead hummed deeply until they passed. I'm not sure how
long I was in there, maybe an hour or so. All I know is when they
told me I needed to get out, I didn't think that would be possible. I
needed a break in the contractions to have enough time to stand up,
and that break wasn't happening. Eventually I slowly made my way out,
and Dr. Hartung checked my cervix. I was ten centimeters, fully
dilated.
I had no urge to push you out at this
point. I read this was something that could happen with breech
babies, but I didn't know what to do about it. I just knew I'd rather
stay with the status quo that start pushing. Eventually, Dr. Hartung
insisted I try. The first few pushes were pretty meek, I had no idea
what I was doing. Just as I started to try to push, Mary Signe, my
midwife from the birth center, arrived. I invited her to your birth
because she wanted to learn more about breech birth, and I felt she
could really help me bridge the experience I planned and the one I
was going to have. She was able to help me figure out the whole
pushing thing. To my surprise, it was much more difficult than the
labor. It wasn't that painful, it was just hard. I couldn't catch my
breath, and they had to give me oxygen. I pushed in a few different
positions, on the toilet, on my back, and eventually on my hands and
knees.
After and hour and a half, without any
epidural or pain medications, I pushed you out. To everyone's
surprise, you were pale white, and not breathing. I couldn't see you
behind me, so I didn't know. I just kept asking if you were a boy or
a girl, but no one would answer me. Dr. Hartung was busy cutting your
umbilical cord and handing you off to the NICU team. Someone told me
you were a girl and we told the room your name, Linde Jane. Mary
Signe told me to talk to you, so I just started yelling across the
room to you. I wanted you to hear my voice, and your Dad and I told
you to breathe! They worked quickly and put a breathing tube in you
to help you get started breathing. They told me you started breathing
on your own in about 15 minutes. Eventually I was able to turn around
and see just your tiny profile in the isolette across the room. There
were bright lights on you, and many people surrounding you. All I
could think of was how you looked just like the profile shot in your
20 week ultrasound picture. Everyone was very concerned, and I know
your Dad was terrified, but I knew you would be OK. I was never
scared in those first few moments, because I never doubted that you
would be just fine, I knew it in my gut.
They took you away to put in IV lines
in your belly button, and eventually came back to tell me you'd be
taken to Children's hospital in St. Paul and put on a cool—it
protocol. Since I worked in the cardiac ICU, I knew exactly what this
was, and it should have scared me, but I knew you would be fine.
About an hour later the Children's team
arrived and brought you back to my room so I could see you before you
left. This was best and worst moment of my life. Seeing your tiny
body in that isolette with a breathing tube and IVs, I felt like my
heart was ripped out of my body and lay on that bed next to you. You
were so beautiful. I wailed. I don't think I can describe it.
Your Dad and Grandpa followed the
ambulance to Children's and your Grandma and I stayed the night at
Woodwinds. I was discharged at 9 am and we drove to the other
hospital to be with you. I was so happy to see you again, it felt to
wrong to not have been with you for the last six hours.
They cooled you down to 92 degrees for
72 hours in order to save any brain cells that might have been
damaged from lack of oxygen. They placed you on a continuous EEG
monitor to observe for any seizures. They gave you tiny amounts of
morphine to keep you comfortable while you were so cold. By the next
morning, all of your wonky lab values were back to normal, they had
taken the breathing tube out, and you were opening your eyes to stare
at me. You never had any seizures. I still knew you would be fine, I
never doubted it.
After 72 hours,
they warmed you up, and we were able to hold you. We were over the
moon happy to finally have you in our arms. They did an MRI of your
brain to see if you had any damaged cells, but everything was
completely normal. When the doctor came to tell us the results, I
just nodded and said OK, Because I always knew you would be
completely fine. We spent a couple more days in the hospital making
sure everything was fine, and working on feeding you. Those few days
were excruciating. We often couldn't pick you up without calling a
nurse first. It was crazy, you were our baby, and we wanted to hold
you! Your Dad and I were brand new parents, and we were just trying
to figure it out, but doing that in the NICU was like being in a fish
bowl. We were so ready to take you home, and I know you were ready
too.
Finally, after eight days, we took you home. You were 7 pounds 6 ounces, and 19 ¾ inches with wisps of copper red hair. You were strong and had wide blue eyes. I introduced you to your cats.
I'll always wonder if I made the right
choice to deliver you vaginally. Initially I was overcome with guilt
and shame, I felt selfish. I wondered what I did wrong, why I
couldn't push you out faster. I was unsure I'd be able to cope with
the pain I was feeling. Many people were skeptical of our choice, I
was very afraid of what people would think when I told them what
happened. I didn't want to be judged, not when I was already feeling
so vulnerable. I spoke with Dr. Hartung while we were in NICU. I
asked what happened, why you came out with an Apgar score of 1? He
didn't know, he said your delivery was fine, it wasn't too slow, your
head didn't get stuck, your heart tones were healthy. He told me
again this was one of the risks for breech babies, and it could just
as well have happened if I had a c-section. He reminded me that the
long term outcomes are the same as non-breech babies. He might have
been the only other person as confident as me that you would be just
fine. As the days go by and I see how strong and bright you are, and
as you meet your milestones weeks early, I feel assured that my gut
was always right. You are and will be just fine.
Love, Mom
First Bath with Grandma |
great story, Anna! precious!
ReplyDeleteWow- dramatic entry is right! Welcome to the world beautiful girl. Thanks to your brave momma for sharing your story, I'm in awe of her guts and power.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations Anna! It's never the same river twice, as the saying goes -- this is your birth story and Linde's. Never feel shame about it. In the end, you gave birth to a beautiful girl, and now you are three! JS
ReplyDeleteThis was beautiful. I can hear a completely different version of you in your words. A mom. And you did what you knew to be be best, it's not worth the guilt, she's here and she's wonderful. Congrats you three
ReplyDelete