While Jack came earlier than expected, Miles came later than expected. I figured Miles would arrive very soon after our move to Long Beach since Jack was early and I was again under a lot of stress with this pregnancy. But each week rolled by, and I kept showing up to appointments with my latest in a string of three physicians for this pregnancy. And each week she also expressed surprise that I was still pregnant. She would check me, and each time my cervix was more open despite me feeling nothing more than my usual Braxton-Hicks-type contractions.
As we neared the 40 week mark, I wondered if I would actually have to be induced with this baby, something that I definitely did not want! I also worried about his size. I could tell he was much larger than Jack, and I was starting to become worried in particular about a shoulder dystocia. (The head comes out but the shoulders get stuck, which can cause injury to mom and baby or even death. And yes, I have often said that it would have been better to have babies before gaining my medical knowledge.)
I had been having some deep-seated fears that Miles might die or become injured during delivery. Part of this might have stemmed from the trauma I saw and heard about in Nepal, but part of it was also a fear of God not taking care of me in the way that I would want: a healthy family in the way that I define healthy. I re-read Ina May's book, "Guide to Childbirth," again in awe of how these women could give birth with joy and less pain and often despite circumstances that would make doctors in hospitals quite nervous. (With the caveat that I don't agree with every single one of her medical field judgments, I highly recommend this book to all pregnant women and to all who help pregnant women deliver their babies.) The book helped me keep reminding myself that my body was made for birth and that, if I would allow it, it would get "huge" to allow this baby out.
On the afternoon of June 7, while I counted to 10 so that Jack could play hide-n-seek in the exam room, my doctor checked me again. I had continued to progress, now 4-5 cm, but I was still only feeling mild contractions. She offered to strip my membranes, which I gladly accepted. Jack and I walked and rode the public bus back home, and sure enough, my contractions began to feel stronger. I hoped to at least eat dinner and get Jack to bed before going to the hospital. We did all that. And then the contractions went away. Argh!
I was able to get a few hours of sleep that night, and the contractions were intermittent but never stayed regular. I wondered if this baby was too big for my uterus to function properly and then again reminded myself that God had made my body for this. I put Jack in his stroller and walked the hills near our home for two hours. Jack fell asleep and, although I continued to have contractions, they wouldn't stay regular. I was becoming upset that my water wouldn't just break and make it obvious that we needed to go to the hospital. (It turns out God knew what He was doing in not allowing my water to break while walking around the neighborhood.)
That night Tim finally convinced me to go to the hospital just to get checked out even though the contractions still weren't regular. I was 6 cm on arrival and, for some reason, I wasn't sure if they would keep me or send me home. Looking back, of course they kept me! It took two hours for the whole check-in process. I didn't convince them to leave my IV on saline lock, but they did allow me to walk for 20 minutes at a time. The contractions would make me stop walking, but in between I was fine. The charge nurse kept saying that she couldn't believe I was smiling at 6 cm and that she didn't want me to drop my baby out in the hallway.
On my second round through the hallway, my water finally broke! As I had explained to Tim, I wore my grungy old sandals just in case this happened. I went straight back to my room and, sure enough, my contractions took off. I could sense all the signs of transitioning to being completely dilated, but I just couldn't believe that it was happening so fast. My nurse was clearly a newbie, and she didn't recognize anything. It turns out I was her first patient to labor and deliver without an epidural!!! That meant she missed my transitioning signs, her vaginal checks were brutal (I wanted to be the teacher and tell her how to improve, but I refrained), she had no sense for how to allow me to labor (she wanted to check my oral temperature in the middle of a contraction just a few minutes after my water broke to make sure I didn't have a fever!), she had only two phrases to say to me ("You're doing great!" and "Take deep breaths!) AND she kept bringing up the fact that I was feeling everything because I didn't have an epidural. No kidding! I finally asked her to stop mentioning pain control and epidurals.
I then felt baby's head coming down and told my nurse she needed to call my doctor right away. Unfortunately, my doctor said she was 20 minutes away! I started panicking that I would be stuck delivering my baby alone with this nurse who I had no confidence in. Then she mentioned an in-house doctor. "Call her now!" I said.
Lots of people rushed into my room. The only person who introduced herself was the "baby nurse." Someone else said the doctor was there, but I didn't know who she was until she was gowned and positioned between my legs. The whole thing taught me even more about what it's like to be a patient and how to improve my own doctoring skills. My labor nurse asked if I wanted her to coach me through pushing; I quickly said, "No, just let me do it." The doctor, however, was great and said all the things I needed to hear.
With Jack, I had to mentally engage in pushing and could choose how much I pushed. Miles was different. I literally could not help but push. Everyone was excitedly telling me to push just a little more because they could see the head. I imagined that they could only see a tiny bit of it and that I still had a long ways to go. I was wrong! I heard a slowed heart rate and of course immediately panicked that it was Miles's. That gave me the energy to pull my legs up and actually engage in the pushing along with my body. After a total of 3, maybe 4, contractions, his head was out.
I heard the doctor's voice rise a bit and become sterner. "I need you to keep pushing." I became concerned that my fear of a shoulder dystocia was going to become reality. I pulled myself into McRobert's (generally the first maneuver to release a stuck shoulder) and pushed with all I had. I could feel the doctor really tugging, and then Miles was on me, a purple forehead but screaming with strong lungs. And he was big!
45 minutes after my water broke, we had a baby. Like with Jack, I looked at Tim, stunned that this had all just happened and that, all of a sudden, there was this baby in the world! My doctor showed up a couple minutes later and the in-house doctor left. The rest of the nurses also cleared out, and our room was left a bit more calm. Unlike Jack, who was a bit premature, Miles was more alert and actually latched to the breast in the first hour, a huge relief for me.
I was also grateful to God for delivering this baby into the world and into our hands safely. And that He did not allow my water to break at home as I had been desperately asking him for. I'm not sure we would have made it to the hospital if God had answered my prayer as hoped. Another answered prayer has been Jack's reaction of love toward Miles. Unfortunately, Jack developed a cold with a fever the day Miles was born, and since I'm paranoid about a newborn fever workup, we initially kept Jack as separate as possible from Miles. Once he was allowed close, though, Jack was all smiles and has generally been more patient than I expected.
I will request that you pray over our breastfeeding. As with Jack, it has been quite painful. Miles does latch tremendously better than Jack, but I fear the long period of tortuous nursing that I had with Jack before things improved. We took Miles to the same dentist as Jack to assess for tongue and lip ties. He repaired the lip but thought that, despite a tie in the tongue, the tongue has enough function to avoid repair. However, we are both having several symptoms that can be consistent with a symptomatic tongue tie. Please pray for wisdom regarding repair of the tie and which provider to go to. Please also pray for our love and patience for Miles as he seems to be heading toward being a colicky baby.
 |
| Get this baby out! |
I had been having some deep-seated fears that Miles might die or become injured during delivery. Part of this might have stemmed from the trauma I saw and heard about in Nepal, but part of it was also a fear of God not taking care of me in the way that I would want: a healthy family in the way that I define healthy. I re-read Ina May's book, "Guide to Childbirth," again in awe of how these women could give birth with joy and less pain and often despite circumstances that would make doctors in hospitals quite nervous. (With the caveat that I don't agree with every single one of her medical field judgments, I highly recommend this book to all pregnant women and to all who help pregnant women deliver their babies.) The book helped me keep reminding myself that my body was made for birth and that, if I would allow it, it would get "huge" to allow this baby out.
On the afternoon of June 7, while I counted to 10 so that Jack could play hide-n-seek in the exam room, my doctor checked me again. I had continued to progress, now 4-5 cm, but I was still only feeling mild contractions. She offered to strip my membranes, which I gladly accepted. Jack and I walked and rode the public bus back home, and sure enough, my contractions began to feel stronger. I hoped to at least eat dinner and get Jack to bed before going to the hospital. We did all that. And then the contractions went away. Argh!
I was able to get a few hours of sleep that night, and the contractions were intermittent but never stayed regular. I wondered if this baby was too big for my uterus to function properly and then again reminded myself that God had made my body for this. I put Jack in his stroller and walked the hills near our home for two hours. Jack fell asleep and, although I continued to have contractions, they wouldn't stay regular. I was becoming upset that my water wouldn't just break and make it obvious that we needed to go to the hospital. (It turns out God knew what He was doing in not allowing my water to break while walking around the neighborhood.)
That night Tim finally convinced me to go to the hospital just to get checked out even though the contractions still weren't regular. I was 6 cm on arrival and, for some reason, I wasn't sure if they would keep me or send me home. Looking back, of course they kept me! It took two hours for the whole check-in process. I didn't convince them to leave my IV on saline lock, but they did allow me to walk for 20 minutes at a time. The contractions would make me stop walking, but in between I was fine. The charge nurse kept saying that she couldn't believe I was smiling at 6 cm and that she didn't want me to drop my baby out in the hallway.
On my second round through the hallway, my water finally broke! As I had explained to Tim, I wore my grungy old sandals just in case this happened. I went straight back to my room and, sure enough, my contractions took off. I could sense all the signs of transitioning to being completely dilated, but I just couldn't believe that it was happening so fast. My nurse was clearly a newbie, and she didn't recognize anything. It turns out I was her first patient to labor and deliver without an epidural!!! That meant she missed my transitioning signs, her vaginal checks were brutal (I wanted to be the teacher and tell her how to improve, but I refrained), she had no sense for how to allow me to labor (she wanted to check my oral temperature in the middle of a contraction just a few minutes after my water broke to make sure I didn't have a fever!), she had only two phrases to say to me ("You're doing great!" and "Take deep breaths!) AND she kept bringing up the fact that I was feeling everything because I didn't have an epidural. No kidding! I finally asked her to stop mentioning pain control and epidurals.
I then felt baby's head coming down and told my nurse she needed to call my doctor right away. Unfortunately, my doctor said she was 20 minutes away! I started panicking that I would be stuck delivering my baby alone with this nurse who I had no confidence in. Then she mentioned an in-house doctor. "Call her now!" I said.
Lots of people rushed into my room. The only person who introduced herself was the "baby nurse." Someone else said the doctor was there, but I didn't know who she was until she was gowned and positioned between my legs. The whole thing taught me even more about what it's like to be a patient and how to improve my own doctoring skills. My labor nurse asked if I wanted her to coach me through pushing; I quickly said, "No, just let me do it." The doctor, however, was great and said all the things I needed to hear.
With Jack, I had to mentally engage in pushing and could choose how much I pushed. Miles was different. I literally could not help but push. Everyone was excitedly telling me to push just a little more because they could see the head. I imagined that they could only see a tiny bit of it and that I still had a long ways to go. I was wrong! I heard a slowed heart rate and of course immediately panicked that it was Miles's. That gave me the energy to pull my legs up and actually engage in the pushing along with my body. After a total of 3, maybe 4, contractions, his head was out.
I heard the doctor's voice rise a bit and become sterner. "I need you to keep pushing." I became concerned that my fear of a shoulder dystocia was going to become reality. I pulled myself into McRobert's (generally the first maneuver to release a stuck shoulder) and pushed with all I had. I could feel the doctor really tugging, and then Miles was on me, a purple forehead but screaming with strong lungs. And he was big!
45 minutes after my water broke, we had a baby. Like with Jack, I looked at Tim, stunned that this had all just happened and that, all of a sudden, there was this baby in the world! My doctor showed up a couple minutes later and the in-house doctor left. The rest of the nurses also cleared out, and our room was left a bit more calm. Unlike Jack, who was a bit premature, Miles was more alert and actually latched to the breast in the first hour, a huge relief for me.
I was also grateful to God for delivering this baby into the world and into our hands safely. And that He did not allow my water to break at home as I had been desperately asking him for. I'm not sure we would have made it to the hospital if God had answered my prayer as hoped. Another answered prayer has been Jack's reaction of love toward Miles. Unfortunately, Jack developed a cold with a fever the day Miles was born, and since I'm paranoid about a newborn fever workup, we initially kept Jack as separate as possible from Miles. Once he was allowed close, though, Jack was all smiles and has generally been more patient than I expected.
I will request that you pray over our breastfeeding. As with Jack, it has been quite painful. Miles does latch tremendously better than Jack, but I fear the long period of tortuous nursing that I had with Jack before things improved. We took Miles to the same dentist as Jack to assess for tongue and lip ties. He repaired the lip but thought that, despite a tie in the tongue, the tongue has enough function to avoid repair. However, we are both having several symptoms that can be consistent with a symptomatic tongue tie. Please pray for wisdom regarding repair of the tie and which provider to go to. Please also pray for our love and patience for Miles as he seems to be heading toward being a colicky baby.
Miles means merciful.
Oliver is a symbol of peace.
June 9, 2016 at 4:01 am
8lb 12.5 oz (4 kg)
21 inches
June 9, 2016 at 4:01 am
8lb 12.5 oz (4 kg)
21 inches
No comments:
Post a Comment