a birth story - vol. ii

Big brother and baby sister.

Usually moms share their birth stories a few weeks after giving birth. I like to give it 5+ years, let the details get real foggy and then rehash the beauty of child birth.

Reader beware. Although the details are a little foggy there is still enough that I remember that is pretty raw. This may be an overshare situation so read at your own risk.

40 weeks + 4 days

My second child, my first daughter, was born December 10, 2014 at 40 weeks, 4 days and after 12 hours of labor. Her older brother was also born at 40 weeks, 4 days and after 12 hours of labor but the day she was born was very different from the day he was born. You can read his birth story here.

The morning of December 10, 2014 started like any other Wednesday when you’re 40+ weeks pregnant…slow and disappointed that I was not in labor. I took my son to daycare and then went to the doctors office for yet another checkup. At 40 weeks and 4 days my doctor was getting concerned that this baby was not going to come on her own and starting talking about an induction strategy. I was determined to have a natural birth (no drugs) the second time around so I was adamantly apposed to inducing. When the doctor checked me I was only dilated 1 cm, which I had been at all my recent appointments. It is so defeating when you are convinced you are progressing and find out that you are not at all.

My doctor wanted me to do a non-stress test to make sure the baby was still doing well. A nonstress test checks to see if the baby responds normally to stimulation and is getting enough oxygen. I had done a non-stress test once before when I was pregnant with my first child. I had slipped on some ice and taken a pretty hard fall and so I sat in the doctors office for an hour attached to monitors and pushing a button when I felt the baby move. I knew this was going to be a long appointment so I texted my husband to let him know that I was not progressing and that this appointment was going to take awhile. About 30 minutes into the non-stress test my husband walked into the room. He had left work early to keep me company.

After the non-stress test was complete my husband and I sat in my doctors office to further discuss induction. My doctor said he would not allow me to go past 41 weeks which would have put an induction over the weekend. I asked him if there was any way that I could go longer than 41 weeks to which he replied (and I quote) ”No. Babies die”. Well alright then. He agreed to at least give me through the weekend and scheduled the induction for the following Monday.

Throughout this marathon doctors appointment I felt like my contractions were getting stronger. They started to feel like more than Braxton Hicks. I told my doctor it was not going to be necessary to schedule an induction because this baby was coming this weekend. He told me that the baby was not going anywhere and he would see me Monday. I looked at my husband and said, “this baby is coming today”. Sometimes a mom just knows and I knew.

So, my husband and I left the doctor and enjoyed a little afternoon impromtu day date. We went to get my car washed…contractions, contractions, contractions. We went and grabbed lunch, I had a delicious chicken….contractions, contractions, contractions. We went home and I relaxed in bed…contractions, contractions, contractions. My husband picked up our son from daycare…more contractions.

I always say that you know when you’re in labor and not false labor because it hurts really bad. If the pain is bearable, it’s probably not the real deal. I knew I was in labor but wanted to labor at home as long as possible. Since I was determine to deliver without any drugs I thought if I could just stay at home until the last minute by the time we made it to the hospital it would be too late for an epidural and I would just start pushing. I thought I was getting very close so my husband took our son to my parents house and we headed to the hospital.

On the drive to the hospital I was, dare I say, excited. I felt like I was ready to just push this baby out no problem. I was joking and laughing and singing “Push It” by Salt and Peppa. I thought if I just stayed positive and smiled this delivery would be a breeze.

Hospital

All checked in and ready to party.

This fun and positive energy didn’t take long to turn a little sour as the contractions were too much for me to handle. Before I knew it we were checked into a room and I was in a gown fully expecting to be pushing within the hour. The nurse checked me and I was at 3 cm. THREE. For those keeping score that is 3 out of 10 centimeters. In terms of percentage that would be a 33% and an a letter grade of an F. There had been progress from my last appointment, which was great! But it didn’t feel like much of a return on my pain investment up until that point.

I met the midwife on call. Until that night I didn’t know that midwives on call was a thing, I just assumed there were only doctors on call. I was excited about the midwife because she seemed very on board with my plan for a natural delivery. She talked us through how the evening would go. She asked if I wanted to hold the baby right away, asked my husband if he wanted to cut the cord. It felt like this was going to be a great experience, despite the severe pain that I was in.

A nurse came to check my progress and said I was between 4 and 5 cm. I said I could not take it anymore and would like the drugs please fully expecting the anesthesiologist to walk into the room as the words left my lips. Ummm, not so much. I waited and waited and waited and the contractions just kept getting stronger and stronger and stronger. I seem to remember holding the side of the bed during contractions crying and saying, “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god”. Nurses came to check my vitals and finally I said as sweet as I could, “could the anesthesiologist please get in here because I’m about to go full diva mode”. Apparently I have an extremely low pain threshold and just could not hang. Finally the anesthesiologist came and the pain went away and labor slowed way down.

The midwife was concerned about labor slowing down and broke my water. Apparently my sweet baby girl had pooped and there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. The midwife let us know that this was not good and things would go a little differently after delivery than we had discussed. Once we delivered the baby we did not want her to take a deep breath, she would not be placed on my chest and they would need to do some additional work and tests on her to make sure she was ok. I was completely freaked out. This was not something I had read up on or felt prepared for.

Breaking my water didn’t seem to have an effect on speeding up the labor so the midwife wanted to get me started on Pitocin. Pitocin is a synthetic form of the hormone that causes contractions. I was personally very opposed to having Pitocin or any unnecessary medical interventions because I had watched a documentary that was very anti-Pitocin called “The Business of Being Born” produced by and staring the great Ricky Lake. Yes, the Ricky Lake. Actress in the original “Hairspray” and host of the 90s daytime talk show “Ricky”.

I told the midwife I didn’t want to have Pitocin and she snapped at me:

“Why?! What have you heard about Pitocin?”

“Um, Ricky Lake says it’s bad.”

Just kidding, that is not what I said. I told her that it was my preference not to have any unnecessary medical intervention. I told her that my contractions had done the same thing with my first child and I was confident history would repeat itself and I would progress fine without Pitocin. The midwife was hesitant and irritated and said that it was my decision but if I didn’t receive the Pitocin she would have to call the doctor on call and he would want me to have an emergency c-section. Her tone and her words were a threat but it didn’t phase me. I asked her if she would be willing to give me an hour to see how things progressed and then we could reassess. She agreed…..I didn’t see her again until 2 hours later when it was time to push.

Over the next few hours I tried to relax but I was worried about my baby girl. I listened to worship music in my headphones and prayed. I stared at the monitor showing my contractions knowing that they were not as strong as they needed to be to move this labor along. Nurses came and went. Checking my vitals, turning me from side to side. As we got closer to midnight it started to feel like the epidural was wearing off. I told the nurse. She asked if it was pain or just feeling pressure. I said I wasn’t sure but maybe just pressure. She checked me and said, “a little pressure?! It’s time to push”. I was so thankful that once again God came through. Just as with my son’s delivery my contractions never reached the level needed to move the labor along but here I was fully dilated and ready to push. I told the nurse that once I started pushing I was not going to be stopping between contractions….they got the midwife.

My husband was by my side, holding one leg as I started to push. Child birth is not exactly like riding a bike but I did kind of remember the technique after the first push. I breathed and waited for the next contraction and “bared down” and pushed. I smelled something. I looked up at my husband and said, “did I poop?”. He just closed his eyes, bowed his head and softly nodded. Such a gentleman.

Side note: I asked my husband what he remembers about our daughters delivery and that was all he remembered. Classic.

Honestly, didn’t really care. When people tell you that all modesty goes out the window in labor it is the truth. At least it was true of my experience. Three more pushes and there she was. My sweet Mabel Jean.

My husband Brandon holding Mabel for the first time.

I can’t describe the feeling of joy and gratitude. The feeling of awe and wonder and amazement at seeing your newborn baby for the first time. The feeling of pure love that rushes through you. I was so in love with my first born that I didn’t think it was going to be possible to love another child as much as him. But there she was and there I was with more love to give. The feeling comes back to me whenever I think of it or whenever I see someone experience it. Even when it’s fake in a movie I’m overwhelmed.

Thankfully Mabel was perfect. I don’t know if they forgot about the meconium situation but they laid her on my right when she came out and my husband cut the cord. They checked her and weighed her and gave her back to me. I nursed and she took to it like a champ, no issues like I had the first time around. The nurses left us there, the three of us. We didn’t know what to do. We had not experienced this before since our son had to be taken away to the NICU after he was born. My husband actually got to hold her. I think when our son was born it was days before my husband actually had the opportunity to hold him.

We were brought to the recovery room and settled in. Mabel was a little jaundice so she was put on some light therapy. It was a bummer that we weren’t able to hold her as much as we wanted because of the lights but at least she was with us. Family came to visit and our son met his baby sister. Those memories are long gone.

There’s no place like home

Mabel Jean doing some light therapy.

It was now Friday and we were really eager to get home and settle into life as a family of four. Mabel’s bilirubin levels (the stuff that is measured to determine how severe jaundice is) were going up slightly but that is normal. Bilirubin is measured on a curve and the goal is to stay in the normal range of the curve. The nurses told us she was doing better and so we expected to be going home but instead we were told that they wanted to admit her to the NICU, even though her numbers were in the normal range and improving with each test.

My husband went down to the nurses station and asked if he could get a copy of her tests. The nurses were not having it and did not want to give him the information. He told them he just wanted to send them to our pediatrician for a second opinion. Reluctantly they gave him the information. My husband talked to the pediatrician and he felt it was unnecessary to admit Mabel to the NICU.

I will be forever grateful for the lactation consultant who happened to be in our room when we were sorting this out. Her name was Frieda and she happened to be the one that taught me how to nurse my son three years earlier. I asked her why they would admit us to the NICU when Mabel’s numbers were fine. She said they only wanted to admit her because it was Friday and they didn’t want to risk us not having access to our pediatrician over the weekend. Frieda told me to get our baby out of there and go home. She also told us to give Mabel formula because the more fluid she had the quicker the jaundice would go away. Thank God for Frieda the lactation consultant! She gave me the confidence that I needed to speak up.

We spoke with the hospital pediatrician (who wanted to admit Mabel to the NICU) and he agreed to let us go home if we agreed to take her to the pediatrician the next morning for a bilirubin test. We confirmed with our pediatrician that we would be able to do that and we packed up our room and our sweet baby and headed home.

Driving home from the hospital.

It was surreal. After our son was born we spent a week with him in the NICU. It was challenging but it was also so helpful to have access to the nursing team for that first week. It was like our own personal baby bootcamp where we learned how to swaddle, bath, baby CPR class and had all of our questions answered. Plus we weren’t able to spend the night in the NICU so we slept so well that first week! Now we were just leaving with a baby after 2 days?! No training, no nothing? It was such a weird feeling be the most overwhelming feeling was just gratitude. Grateful to be going home. Grateful to have the ability to speak up for my health and the health of our baby. Grateful for a healthy baby girl.

Mabel Jean Puetz is named after my mom’s grandma Mabel and my grandma and my husband’s grandma both had the middle name Jean. Mabel means lovable and Jean means “God is gracious”. The name fits her perfectly. She is just so lovable and is a reminder that God is gracious. Things don’t always go according to our plan but they always go perfectly according to His plan.