I thought I was prepared.
I read all the books.
I did as much research as I possibly could.
I watched documentaries.
Live births.
Read blogs.
Still, nothing could prepare me for labor.
It has been seven weeks exactly since Mason was born, and I have yet to write down my horrific experience; however I will try.
I knew instantly when we checked into the hospital, this labor was not going to be anything that I had expected.
Right away I was hooked to an IV, had monitors strapped to me and began to worry.
I did not feel relaxed, or comfortable.
I was overwhelmed, stressed, and anxious.
I did not want any medical intervention what-so-ever during this pregnancy, but as 41 weeks approached and my blood pressure began to climb the Dr. suggested I be induced. I want to make it clear that my Dr. never pushed me to have an induction, but she did say that Mason's size was cause for concern and that I should at least consider an induction.
Michael and I prayed and prayed and prayed. We prayed I would go into labor naturally. My due date came and went, 41 weeks came and went, and still no Mason. We had felt that we should induce on Wednesday at midnight if he has not come by then, and that is exactly what we did.
My contractions were long and intense. I handled the pain much better than I ever thought I would. My mom said she had pegged me for a screamer, but I quietly moaned with each contraction. It felt so much better for me to stand and spiral my hips. It also felt wonderful to sit in a chair (odd, I know). The nurse came in and checked my dilation after 15 hours. This was a horrible exam. The nurse was not gentle and it actually hurt more than my contractions. When I arrived at the hospital I was 1 and a half cm dilated, after 15 hours, I was only 2. Mason's head was still at the -4 station. At this point my Dr. came in and broke my water in hopes of progressing my labor.
After 15 hours I was exhausted. I don't think it helped that I went to the hospital at midnight. I was already tired and unable to rest before we left. As much as I did not want an epidural, I caved, not due to pain, but due to exhaustion and feeling so discouraged that I was not progressing.
I hated the epidural. I could not feel a damn thing. I was so numb, and I hated not having any control of my body. I was so numb I could not even turn on my side without help. It was so awful. I kept thinking about how we should have gone with a midwife and done a home birth. I was so disappointed with how everything was going and felt I had no control over my body. I felt so helpless
I continued to labor for six more with no progress. I was so discouraged. I did not know what to do. My Dr. came in and explained my options. Mason's head was still at a -4, I was still only at 2 cm. Mason's heartbeat was strong and neither of us were in danger, but there seemed to be little hope that he would come down on his own. She never pushed me to have a C-section, but encouraged me to consider it.
Michael and I were in a unique situation. We had no insurance. We were on a cash payment program, and everything had to go exactly as planned, or our contract would be voided and we would be charged the full amount (i.e. if my birth turned into an emergency C-section, or if Mason had to be in the NICU for any reason, we'd be screwed). This heavily weighed into my decision to have the C-section then.
So there I was, arms strapped to a table (like Jesus, says Michael), under the bright lights, ready to be cut open. With in seconds my baby was out. He let out a loud cry, but then abruptly stopped. All I saw were his huge baby feet and then he was gone. Mason was 10lbs 7oz. He was huge. His head was stuck in my pelvis so his head was a bit cone-like.
Mason had fluid in his lungs and was "rushed" to the NICU. I did not get to hold him, or kiss him, or even touch him. It still brings tears to my eyes. I had just given birth, but could not see my baby. Little did I know that I would not be able to see him until the next morning, yet still not be able to hold him. It was heart-wrenching.
Mason had been ripped out of me. I did not get to have him placed on my chest. I did not get to latch him right away. I could not cuddle with my little boy. I was only told to rest. REST? I JUST HAD A BABY!!! HOW CAN I REST? What hurt the most is that I had become a statistic. Just like I had read about.
I do still go back and fourth though. My blood pressure was high, which was cause for concern. I wanted more than anything for a chance to labor, and I got that. Mason was so big too. I am not certain that it would not have ended any other way, but the possibility that it could have drives me crazy. What if I had chosen a different birth? What if I had not been induced and waited until my body was ready? Even if I had, what if he was bigger than 10.7? Would it have even been possible to birth him vaginally?
I hate that my boy came into the world in such distress.
I hate that he had to stay in the NICU for 7 days afterwards.
I hate that I left the hospital without him.
I am thankful for the staff, however. They cared for me and Mason so well. They were patient and kind to Michael since he was nothing short of a hot mess. I am so thankful I was able to learn to breast feed regardless of the circumstances. My hospital encouraged breast feeding and helped me latch Mason properly.
Michael and I are still recovering from everything. We still get sad sometimes over what happened. This experience nearly ruined my dreams of having a big family, leaving me feeling like I NEVER want to do this again. I am in a much better place now. I know that I do want more children, eventually, but I would like to consider other methods of birth next time. I still have so many unanswered questions. It seems like my greatest fear came true.
The only good that came from this birth was my Mason.
I love him.
I am thankful he is home.
I could not ask for more.
I am now praying for healing.
I pray that next time with be different.
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