Jersey #3 makes his guardian angels work overtime. He likes to ride on the edge of danger....starting with his exit from the womb.
I wanted to have more children. I was called to motherhood. I was home with the kids full time now. I loved raising Jersey #1 & Jersey #2. I no longer feared losing my children...even though I know tragedy is always possible...because I was finally resting peacefully in the will of God. (Granted, there was the whole "give it to God" lesson that I learned during Jersey #2's open-heart surgery, but that story will have to wait). I knew that God would not give me more than I could handle. I also knew that the blessings are always so much greater than the trials.
My husband did not agree. He was so relieved that Jersey #1 was alive. That was good enough for him. He did not want to take anymore parenthood risks. The surprise timing of Jersey #2, brought forth his struggle with wanting control. Her heart condition only elevated his vulnerability. Adding more children to our family was an unnecessary risk from his viewpoint. I appealed to his ego and reminded him that it was obvious he was an outstanding father, if he cared so strongly about his children that he could not stand the thought of losing them. He is a natural father. There is no doubt he loves his children. I thought, surely, he would see that the blessings outweigh the risks. It took many years, filled with many struggles, before I realized he was grieving at a different pace than me. He was stuck in the spiritual struggle for control. When he would dare to dream, he would happily consider another baby. When the fear of tragedy built up, he would throw himself into his work. He spent majority of my pregnancy with Jersey #3 working long days, and overtime hours with travel. Under the guise of providing for his family, he also hid from his emotional stress.
I spent most of the pregnancy home alone with 2 toddlers. Thankfully, I hardly had any morning sickness whatsoever. That was my first clue I was growing a boy. I usually prefer sleeping throughout most of the first trimester, but that feeling was magnified this time around. With the pregnancy with Jersey #3, I was exhausted beyond belief. I could barely move. I could barely keep my eyes open. I would get out of bed in the morning--when the toddlers being awake required it--and drop into the recliner in the living room. I was so frustrated with my limitations and inefficiency. I wanted to be up taking care of my house and kids. Instead, I was falling asleep sitting up, and too exhausted to move. Jersey #1 & Jersey #2 had free run of the entire house. They made quite a mess each day. On my worst days, I let them get their own snacks out of the fridge....juice boxes, cheese, fruit, and yogurt....and movies played continuously, while I remained glued to the couch, struggling to keep my eyes open. I complained to the doctor. He said of course I was exhausted, I was pregnant with 2 small children at home...what did I expect. No, he didn't get it, I was EXHAUSTED. Barely able to function, and I was hardly doing anything.
I later learned that all that exhaustion and my inability to move much, served as quite a protective mechanism for Jersey #3. That first trimester was a fragile time. I just didn't know it. As I started to get some strength back, I also started to do more. I managed to get out to the grocery store, with 2 toddlers in tow, at 14 weeks pregnant. As I was unloading the groceries from the car, I felt a gush. Oh No! I freaked out. I ran to the bathroom and discovered it was blood. Begin PANIC mode! I called Dr. S, fearing I was experiencing another miscarriage. Dr. S informed me that this far in the pregnancy--and after we had already seen a healthy baby, with a healthy heartbeat on ultrasound a few weeks prior--it was more likely a problem with the placenta that was causing the bleeding. He advised me to go to the hospital to get checked out, so we would know what we are dealing with. I called my husband home from work. I called a friend who was willing to keep the girls for me. While I waited for their arrival, I thought I was doing a good job of keeping calm. I packed up the diaper bag, changed diapers and dressed the girls. It became obvious that I was not calm, because I completely forgot to put a diaper on Jersey #2...and that was discovered later by my friend who had to take care of her "leak." Oops.
I was assessed at the hospital. The baby was still alive! We could hear his heartbeat with the Doppler. I was actually feeling movement early with him, so I had that extra comfort too. The bleeding was labeled a "threatened miscarriage," because bleeding is not a normal pregnancy symptom. The doctors did not want to "handle" things much, because they did not want to irritate my cervix or make it mad, for fear it would open up and expel the baby. They took a peak to see that it was closed, which was a good sign. Unfortunately, they could not figure out what was causing the bleeding. The ultrasound machine for that triage unit was so old, and it had a big black spot on the screen, right where they needed to see. The ultrasound department was booked full that day. So, they had to write me a referral to another ultrasound clinic, with an appointment a few days away. I was given a RhoGam shot (because my blood is Rh negative, and my husband's is Rh positive), and sent home with instructions to rest and monitor the bleeding.
I was 15 weeks along when that ultrasound revealed I was growing a baby BOY...and I had placenta previa! The placenta was resting right on top of my cervix, which is not a very sturdy spot for it. Thankfully, I only had "partial placenta previa" which meant the placenta was only covering part of my cervix, not the entire thing. That gave improved odds that the placenta could gradually move up the wall of my uterus, as the uterus grew, and move away from the cervix in time for delivery. (If the placenta sits on top of the cervix, it might become detached too soon, as the cervix dilates, which is dangerous to the life of the baby. It also yields to a c-section delivery, because the baby is suppose to be born before the placenta!) With this poor positioning of the placenta, blood was seeping out my cervix, from the placenta, as my activity level increased.
I was sent home to rest, watch, wait, and try not to worry. Time would tell if the bleeding would stop, if the placenta would grow away from the cervix, or if the baby's life was in danger. There are no interventions for such a diagnosis at 15 weeks.
I was scared. I feared losing Jersey #3. I prayed for God's healing hand. I requested prayer of all my family and friends. My husband was scared of losing Jersey #3. He did not like to be emotionally vulnerable like this. He threw himself into his job, and tried to ignore his fear.
We praise the Lord that Jersey #3 continued to grow and develop. The bleeding stopped within a week. I was careful to rest, as frustrating as it was to watch entropy take over our household, because the baby's life took priority. I had a series of ultrasounds that monitored the placenta, and showed it was moving up, away from the cervix. The coast was clear in plenty of time for delivery.
Then, things took an eery turn, running a little too-close-for-comfort, to our experience with Mackenzie. Just 1 week before Jersey #3 was due to be born, his movement in the womb decreased dramatically. He was normally very active. In one day's time, he became very mellow. Thankfully, he was still moving, so he was still alive. I mentioned this at my prenatal appointment that morning. Dr. S. suggested I go in for a Non-stress test to check things out and make sure all was well in the womb. He was very casual about the process, saying that if any concerns were discovered, they would recommend induction. He joked that I was the only woman he knew that LIKED induction, so that would not be a problem for me. On on the flip side, if everything looked good, I would have that comfort. It was a good plan. I agreed.
And along came a Guardian Angel...
I arrived at the hospital and discovered that the nurse who was administering the non-stress tests that day just happened to be the wonderful nurse who gave such respectful care of Mackenzie when she was stillborn. She remembered me, and remembered my situation, because we had apparently left quite an impression on her. She set me up on the monitors to check out contractions and the baby's heartbeat. We chatted a bit. She was so sweet. She took care of other patients too. When the room had cleared out, she came over to my station and reported that the monitoring looked good. The baby was moving enough to fit the "normal" range. She explained that the second step in the process was to take a look at the baby and the womb on ultrasound, and take some measurements, including a calculated measurement of the volume of amniotic fluid. She offered me some water to drink. Then she did something that was completely out of character for her...she sat down and said "Look. Even though things look good on the monitor, I would like to recommend to the doctor that we go ahead and induce you today and get the baby out." She assured me that she was not hiding any information. She just did not think it was a good idea to send me home and let me worry through the weekend. I was both surprised and relieved by her suggestion. I agreed, and she went over to the delivery unit to find a doctor. She returned and told me that there was a doctor who agreed with her assessment, but he wanted her to do the ultrasound anyway. So, she took a peak at the baby on ultrasound, and he looked good. I assured her that Dr. S would be fine with her plan for induction, because he expected that is what would be advised if anything was found anyway. She called him and gave him the details, completely fired up and ready to defend her position. A defense was unnecessary, because he was fine with that plan. He called one of his Residents to come over to meet me and get the process started.
Dr. S. told me later, that he was so surprised by the phone call from that particular nurse. He said that she is not normally that assertive, she does not push for "unnecessary" medical interventions, and she was arguing her case before she even completed the assessment (when she is normally so thorough). He was not surprised by the recommendation for induction, but he was rather surprised that it was so out of character for this Nurse. He said she was trusting her gut, and was a guardian Angel to Jersey #3.
This was my 4th induction with Mesoprostol, so I knew the routine well. That medicine works wonders with my body, and was just as effective this time around. My husband finished packing up a hospital bag for me, following my instructions over the phone, and joined me soon after. We chatted with the resident doctors and the Labor & Delivery nurses, throughout the admitting, assessing, and inducing process, and settled in for another round. We were relieved that the baby was still alive and well. We were also relieved to know he would be born soon. Dr. S was running things from the phone, with his Resident Doctor managing things in person at the hospital. He was planning to join us after his clinic ended that night.
The first dose of Meso got the contractions started. Change of shift brought in a new nurse for the night. Unfortunately, she and I did not click well. I nicknamed her "the nurse who always said No." It did not matter what I was requesting, her first response to me was always No. At the end of the 4-hour run of the first Meso dose, my cervix was only dilated 2cm. Bummer. I was hoping things would move faster this time. Dr. S decided to go home to dinner with his family, after clinic, and join us when things started really progressing. His resident was to call him with updates regularly. The 2nd dose was inserted. The Resident told me that Dr. S insisted that I get to have an epidural whenever I decided it was time, so to just tell him when I wanted it. I told him I was doing fine at the moment. An ultrasound machine was brought in to check the baby's positioning, because the Resident was not confident that the baby was lined up properly. It turns out that Jersey #3 was shifted a little to the side, so his head was not in line with the exit door. Since his head was not pushing down on my cervix, those contractions were not as effective. The nurse did a terrible job of explaining this to us. She asked me to lay on my side so that the baby could get into position. I had always been told that laboring laying down in bed was a bad idea, so I inquired if it would slow things down. She acted as though my questions were an imposition to her time. Thankfully, the Resident was willing to go into full detail about the position of Jersey #3's head, and the theory of how my positioning in bed might allow gravity to help the baby line up better. It made sense, so I agreed.
It worked. His head lined right up, and the contractions became much more effective almost immediately. Almost too immediately! The medical staff had only left the room about 10 minutes before I was having to breathe through and manage contractions. I also had to pee. When I returned to the bed, the nurse came to re-attached the monitors. I told her I was ready for the epidural. She told me No, that I was only 2 cm dilated, and I needed to be at least 4cm before they could insert the epidural. I told her there was no way that I was still only 2cm dilated. She agreed to go get the Resident doctor. No sooner had the door closed behind her, my water broke!
The Resident returned with the nurse and checked me. 5 cm. Since my water had broken, he asked if he could insert internal monitors on the baby's head, to get a better reading on the baby's heart. We questioned the procedure, the safety, and the details. The nurse initially tried to brush off our concerns as if this was routine, but we ignored her and turned to the Resident for his thorough explanation. This was our 4th delivery experience, and we had never had internal monitors before, so it couldn't be that routine! He convinced us with his explanation, so we agreed. He inserted the scalp monitor, ordered the epidural, and called Dr. S.
Apparently, Dr. S was the only one who expected things to move quickly from there. He got word that I was 5cm dilated, and my water broke on its own, so he jumped in the car and quickly drove to the hospital. He said he was going down the interstate wondering if he was going to even make it on time.
Back at the hospital, I was managing contractions, waiting for the anasthesiologist to set up for my epidural. I knew the routine for that too. The nurse raised the bed, and helped me get set up on the edge of the bed, feet on a chair, leaning over a pillow, while she and my husband stood in front of me for support and to keep me from falling. She did a good job of coaching my breathing, and had a temporary lapse of encouragement! As the anesthesiologist was cleaning the injection site, I felt a strange sensation down below, and thought out loud, "What was THAT?" The nurse answered that it was just my baby moving down the birth canal, and that I was doing a good job. She had no idea how right she was! The baby was moving down the birth canal....quickly! The anesthesiologist was ready. He told me to hold still. I said I thought I needed to push. The nurse said, "No, no, honey, you don't want to do that. You are only 5 cm dilated. Pushing now would harm your cervix." The anesthesiologist came to my aid, and suggested that maybe I should be checked before he actually inserted the needle. The charge nurse was in my room at the time, and confirmed his recommendation, and yelled out the door for the Resident. The nurse was barely able to help me get back to the center of the bed to be checked, when the charge nurse yelled "Grab a glove in case you have to catch!" The anesthesiologist just packed up his stuff and left in a hurry.
The Resident doctor barely got a gown up to his shoulders before he had to catch Jersey #3. When I first said I thought I needed to push, the charge nurse told me that I was dilated to 10 cm, but I had a piece of cervix hanging in the way. She then said I would probably just push through it. When the Resident arrived, I told him I think I really need to push. The charge nurse asked me to hang on and breathe through it, while she tried to help the Resident into his gown, and tried to set up for the delivery. The charge nurse had elbowed my regular nurse out of the way and was taking care of my case now. I thought it was because my regular nurse was so annoying. I later learned it was because things were getting dangerous, and required the charge nurse's experience. No one mentioned to us that Jersey #3's heart rate was dropping way too low. People just started coming into the room. It seemed like Doctors and Nurses were coming out of the cracks in the walls. [That internal monitoring was letting everyone know the baby was in trouble, and the computer at the unit desk was alarming everyone to the fact.]
The 3rd time I said "I need to push" (which was really just 3 sentences in succession, even though the details type out longer), the charge nurse said "Yes you do." My body was pushing anyway, so our dialog was actually useless to the situation. There was no time to set up the bed, my legs, my body positioning, or anything. There was no coaching for breathing, pushing, or any routine of the sort. I gave one push that I can take credit for concentrating on, while the nurse pulled a gown up the Resident's arms, and Jersey #3 blasted into the world like a rocket!
There were many hands and many arms waiting to transfer Jersey #3 from the Resident Doctor's hands to the newborn table. This time, the baby was not placed on my abdomen. The cord was cut mid-transfer. Everything happened VERY quickly. We heard him cry, so we knew he was alive. That was good. He needed oxygen, and some bagged resuscitation, which also yielded many physical assessments. There were Doctors and Nurses from a variety of hospital departments ready to assess the baby--Pediatrics, Newborn Intensive Care, Family Practice, OBGYN, L&D. Dr. S walked into the room at the moment Jersey #3 was transferred across the room, but he took the scene in stride. He took a peak at the baby and all the action, then assured us that he looked good. He took a peak over the Resident's shoulder at my need for medical attention, and joked that the baby left skid marks (abrasions) on his way out!
When some of the dust had settled, Dr. S scooped up the baby, and placed him in my husband's arms. He said that he always enjoyed watching the color return to my husband's face, when our children are born alive. After I was all patched up, I got to hold the baby. He was still fussy, breathing fast, and "complaining." They would later classify his behavior in the lump term "transitional issues". He was having a hard time transitioning from womb to world.
One of the other doctors challenged Dr. S, and an intense discussion took place in the corner of the room. She appealed that she was required to assess the baby. Dr. S informed her that after she did her assessment, he would do his assessment! He left the room. While the baby was being assessed, the nurse-who-always-says-no returned to assist me. She asked if I wanted some water or juice. When I asked for a straw, she told me no, that straws cause sucking down air, which would lead to gas. I turned to my husband and asked for the straw out of his finished drink. I joked that gas would be a good thing, because if you pass gas in recovery, they let you go home because all your parts work! The nurse explained to me that she did not know what the doctors were going to do. She said that any time that a baby needs oxygen following delivery, he has to go to the NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) to be monitored. She then explained that she had just sent her previous patient to the NICU, and that it was full. So, she was guessing they would be sending Jersey #3 out of state to the next closest children's hospital.
Dr. S put a halt to all of that. He allowed all of the other hospital departments to assess the baby, make their recommendations, and fill out their paperwork. Then, he did his assessment. He calmed Jersey #3 down, talked to him, checked him out from head to toe, and assured us that he was healthy, alive, and doing well. He put him in my arms and said that was right where he needed to be. Jersey #3 was my only living child who did not take an interest in breastfeeding right after delivery. He went to sleep instead.
Jersey #3 was our baby who most resembled Mackenzie. He was real pale like her too. Ironically, his situation was the closest to hers, only he was born alive. The cord was also wrapped around his neck. When he entered the birth canal, it became constricted, which was what was alarming all the medical staff via the monitors. Thankfully, he was born so quickly that he was able to survive his life support being depleted like that. In Mackenzie's situation, the cord was wrapped around her neck, and it became constricted as her head engaged into my pelvis. For Jersey #3, his off-center position prevented his head from engaging into my pelvis, so the cord was not compressed early on. "Precipitous delivery" has its negative side-effects, such as all those "transitional issues"....exhaustion, weak breastfeeding, difficulty maintaining body temperature & oxygen levels, etc...but for our family, that speedy entrance gave Jersey #3 a chance to LIVE! He cemented our childbearing philosophy--as long as the baby gets here alive, that is all that matters...the rest is just details!
I wanted to have more children. I was called to motherhood. I was home with the kids full time now. I loved raising Jersey #1 & Jersey #2. I no longer feared losing my children...even though I know tragedy is always possible...because I was finally resting peacefully in the will of God. (Granted, there was the whole "give it to God" lesson that I learned during Jersey #2's open-heart surgery, but that story will have to wait). I knew that God would not give me more than I could handle. I also knew that the blessings are always so much greater than the trials.
My husband did not agree. He was so relieved that Jersey #1 was alive. That was good enough for him. He did not want to take anymore parenthood risks. The surprise timing of Jersey #2, brought forth his struggle with wanting control. Her heart condition only elevated his vulnerability. Adding more children to our family was an unnecessary risk from his viewpoint. I appealed to his ego and reminded him that it was obvious he was an outstanding father, if he cared so strongly about his children that he could not stand the thought of losing them. He is a natural father. There is no doubt he loves his children. I thought, surely, he would see that the blessings outweigh the risks. It took many years, filled with many struggles, before I realized he was grieving at a different pace than me. He was stuck in the spiritual struggle for control. When he would dare to dream, he would happily consider another baby. When the fear of tragedy built up, he would throw himself into his work. He spent majority of my pregnancy with Jersey #3 working long days, and overtime hours with travel. Under the guise of providing for his family, he also hid from his emotional stress.
I spent most of the pregnancy home alone with 2 toddlers. Thankfully, I hardly had any morning sickness whatsoever. That was my first clue I was growing a boy. I usually prefer sleeping throughout most of the first trimester, but that feeling was magnified this time around. With the pregnancy with Jersey #3, I was exhausted beyond belief. I could barely move. I could barely keep my eyes open. I would get out of bed in the morning--when the toddlers being awake required it--and drop into the recliner in the living room. I was so frustrated with my limitations and inefficiency. I wanted to be up taking care of my house and kids. Instead, I was falling asleep sitting up, and too exhausted to move. Jersey #1 & Jersey #2 had free run of the entire house. They made quite a mess each day. On my worst days, I let them get their own snacks out of the fridge....juice boxes, cheese, fruit, and yogurt....and movies played continuously, while I remained glued to the couch, struggling to keep my eyes open. I complained to the doctor. He said of course I was exhausted, I was pregnant with 2 small children at home...what did I expect. No, he didn't get it, I was EXHAUSTED. Barely able to function, and I was hardly doing anything.
I later learned that all that exhaustion and my inability to move much, served as quite a protective mechanism for Jersey #3. That first trimester was a fragile time. I just didn't know it. As I started to get some strength back, I also started to do more. I managed to get out to the grocery store, with 2 toddlers in tow, at 14 weeks pregnant. As I was unloading the groceries from the car, I felt a gush. Oh No! I freaked out. I ran to the bathroom and discovered it was blood. Begin PANIC mode! I called Dr. S, fearing I was experiencing another miscarriage. Dr. S informed me that this far in the pregnancy--and after we had already seen a healthy baby, with a healthy heartbeat on ultrasound a few weeks prior--it was more likely a problem with the placenta that was causing the bleeding. He advised me to go to the hospital to get checked out, so we would know what we are dealing with. I called my husband home from work. I called a friend who was willing to keep the girls for me. While I waited for their arrival, I thought I was doing a good job of keeping calm. I packed up the diaper bag, changed diapers and dressed the girls. It became obvious that I was not calm, because I completely forgot to put a diaper on Jersey #2...and that was discovered later by my friend who had to take care of her "leak." Oops.
I was assessed at the hospital. The baby was still alive! We could hear his heartbeat with the Doppler. I was actually feeling movement early with him, so I had that extra comfort too. The bleeding was labeled a "threatened miscarriage," because bleeding is not a normal pregnancy symptom. The doctors did not want to "handle" things much, because they did not want to irritate my cervix or make it mad, for fear it would open up and expel the baby. They took a peak to see that it was closed, which was a good sign. Unfortunately, they could not figure out what was causing the bleeding. The ultrasound machine for that triage unit was so old, and it had a big black spot on the screen, right where they needed to see. The ultrasound department was booked full that day. So, they had to write me a referral to another ultrasound clinic, with an appointment a few days away. I was given a RhoGam shot (because my blood is Rh negative, and my husband's is Rh positive), and sent home with instructions to rest and monitor the bleeding.
I was 15 weeks along when that ultrasound revealed I was growing a baby BOY...and I had placenta previa! The placenta was resting right on top of my cervix, which is not a very sturdy spot for it. Thankfully, I only had "partial placenta previa" which meant the placenta was only covering part of my cervix, not the entire thing. That gave improved odds that the placenta could gradually move up the wall of my uterus, as the uterus grew, and move away from the cervix in time for delivery. (If the placenta sits on top of the cervix, it might become detached too soon, as the cervix dilates, which is dangerous to the life of the baby. It also yields to a c-section delivery, because the baby is suppose to be born before the placenta!) With this poor positioning of the placenta, blood was seeping out my cervix, from the placenta, as my activity level increased.
I was sent home to rest, watch, wait, and try not to worry. Time would tell if the bleeding would stop, if the placenta would grow away from the cervix, or if the baby's life was in danger. There are no interventions for such a diagnosis at 15 weeks.
I was scared. I feared losing Jersey #3. I prayed for God's healing hand. I requested prayer of all my family and friends. My husband was scared of losing Jersey #3. He did not like to be emotionally vulnerable like this. He threw himself into his job, and tried to ignore his fear.
We praise the Lord that Jersey #3 continued to grow and develop. The bleeding stopped within a week. I was careful to rest, as frustrating as it was to watch entropy take over our household, because the baby's life took priority. I had a series of ultrasounds that monitored the placenta, and showed it was moving up, away from the cervix. The coast was clear in plenty of time for delivery.
Then, things took an eery turn, running a little too-close-for-comfort, to our experience with Mackenzie. Just 1 week before Jersey #3 was due to be born, his movement in the womb decreased dramatically. He was normally very active. In one day's time, he became very mellow. Thankfully, he was still moving, so he was still alive. I mentioned this at my prenatal appointment that morning. Dr. S. suggested I go in for a Non-stress test to check things out and make sure all was well in the womb. He was very casual about the process, saying that if any concerns were discovered, they would recommend induction. He joked that I was the only woman he knew that LIKED induction, so that would not be a problem for me. On on the flip side, if everything looked good, I would have that comfort. It was a good plan. I agreed.
And along came a Guardian Angel...
I arrived at the hospital and discovered that the nurse who was administering the non-stress tests that day just happened to be the wonderful nurse who gave such respectful care of Mackenzie when she was stillborn. She remembered me, and remembered my situation, because we had apparently left quite an impression on her. She set me up on the monitors to check out contractions and the baby's heartbeat. We chatted a bit. She was so sweet. She took care of other patients too. When the room had cleared out, she came over to my station and reported that the monitoring looked good. The baby was moving enough to fit the "normal" range. She explained that the second step in the process was to take a look at the baby and the womb on ultrasound, and take some measurements, including a calculated measurement of the volume of amniotic fluid. She offered me some water to drink. Then she did something that was completely out of character for her...she sat down and said "Look. Even though things look good on the monitor, I would like to recommend to the doctor that we go ahead and induce you today and get the baby out." She assured me that she was not hiding any information. She just did not think it was a good idea to send me home and let me worry through the weekend. I was both surprised and relieved by her suggestion. I agreed, and she went over to the delivery unit to find a doctor. She returned and told me that there was a doctor who agreed with her assessment, but he wanted her to do the ultrasound anyway. So, she took a peak at the baby on ultrasound, and he looked good. I assured her that Dr. S would be fine with her plan for induction, because he expected that is what would be advised if anything was found anyway. She called him and gave him the details, completely fired up and ready to defend her position. A defense was unnecessary, because he was fine with that plan. He called one of his Residents to come over to meet me and get the process started.
Dr. S. told me later, that he was so surprised by the phone call from that particular nurse. He said that she is not normally that assertive, she does not push for "unnecessary" medical interventions, and she was arguing her case before she even completed the assessment (when she is normally so thorough). He was not surprised by the recommendation for induction, but he was rather surprised that it was so out of character for this Nurse. He said she was trusting her gut, and was a guardian Angel to Jersey #3.
This was my 4th induction with Mesoprostol, so I knew the routine well. That medicine works wonders with my body, and was just as effective this time around. My husband finished packing up a hospital bag for me, following my instructions over the phone, and joined me soon after. We chatted with the resident doctors and the Labor & Delivery nurses, throughout the admitting, assessing, and inducing process, and settled in for another round. We were relieved that the baby was still alive and well. We were also relieved to know he would be born soon. Dr. S was running things from the phone, with his Resident Doctor managing things in person at the hospital. He was planning to join us after his clinic ended that night.
The first dose of Meso got the contractions started. Change of shift brought in a new nurse for the night. Unfortunately, she and I did not click well. I nicknamed her "the nurse who always said No." It did not matter what I was requesting, her first response to me was always No. At the end of the 4-hour run of the first Meso dose, my cervix was only dilated 2cm. Bummer. I was hoping things would move faster this time. Dr. S decided to go home to dinner with his family, after clinic, and join us when things started really progressing. His resident was to call him with updates regularly. The 2nd dose was inserted. The Resident told me that Dr. S insisted that I get to have an epidural whenever I decided it was time, so to just tell him when I wanted it. I told him I was doing fine at the moment. An ultrasound machine was brought in to check the baby's positioning, because the Resident was not confident that the baby was lined up properly. It turns out that Jersey #3 was shifted a little to the side, so his head was not in line with the exit door. Since his head was not pushing down on my cervix, those contractions were not as effective. The nurse did a terrible job of explaining this to us. She asked me to lay on my side so that the baby could get into position. I had always been told that laboring laying down in bed was a bad idea, so I inquired if it would slow things down. She acted as though my questions were an imposition to her time. Thankfully, the Resident was willing to go into full detail about the position of Jersey #3's head, and the theory of how my positioning in bed might allow gravity to help the baby line up better. It made sense, so I agreed.
It worked. His head lined right up, and the contractions became much more effective almost immediately. Almost too immediately! The medical staff had only left the room about 10 minutes before I was having to breathe through and manage contractions. I also had to pee. When I returned to the bed, the nurse came to re-attached the monitors. I told her I was ready for the epidural. She told me No, that I was only 2 cm dilated, and I needed to be at least 4cm before they could insert the epidural. I told her there was no way that I was still only 2cm dilated. She agreed to go get the Resident doctor. No sooner had the door closed behind her, my water broke!
The Resident returned with the nurse and checked me. 5 cm. Since my water had broken, he asked if he could insert internal monitors on the baby's head, to get a better reading on the baby's heart. We questioned the procedure, the safety, and the details. The nurse initially tried to brush off our concerns as if this was routine, but we ignored her and turned to the Resident for his thorough explanation. This was our 4th delivery experience, and we had never had internal monitors before, so it couldn't be that routine! He convinced us with his explanation, so we agreed. He inserted the scalp monitor, ordered the epidural, and called Dr. S.
Apparently, Dr. S was the only one who expected things to move quickly from there. He got word that I was 5cm dilated, and my water broke on its own, so he jumped in the car and quickly drove to the hospital. He said he was going down the interstate wondering if he was going to even make it on time.
Back at the hospital, I was managing contractions, waiting for the anasthesiologist to set up for my epidural. I knew the routine for that too. The nurse raised the bed, and helped me get set up on the edge of the bed, feet on a chair, leaning over a pillow, while she and my husband stood in front of me for support and to keep me from falling. She did a good job of coaching my breathing, and had a temporary lapse of encouragement! As the anesthesiologist was cleaning the injection site, I felt a strange sensation down below, and thought out loud, "What was THAT?" The nurse answered that it was just my baby moving down the birth canal, and that I was doing a good job. She had no idea how right she was! The baby was moving down the birth canal....quickly! The anesthesiologist was ready. He told me to hold still. I said I thought I needed to push. The nurse said, "No, no, honey, you don't want to do that. You are only 5 cm dilated. Pushing now would harm your cervix." The anesthesiologist came to my aid, and suggested that maybe I should be checked before he actually inserted the needle. The charge nurse was in my room at the time, and confirmed his recommendation, and yelled out the door for the Resident. The nurse was barely able to help me get back to the center of the bed to be checked, when the charge nurse yelled "Grab a glove in case you have to catch!" The anesthesiologist just packed up his stuff and left in a hurry.
The Resident doctor barely got a gown up to his shoulders before he had to catch Jersey #3. When I first said I thought I needed to push, the charge nurse told me that I was dilated to 10 cm, but I had a piece of cervix hanging in the way. She then said I would probably just push through it. When the Resident arrived, I told him I think I really need to push. The charge nurse asked me to hang on and breathe through it, while she tried to help the Resident into his gown, and tried to set up for the delivery. The charge nurse had elbowed my regular nurse out of the way and was taking care of my case now. I thought it was because my regular nurse was so annoying. I later learned it was because things were getting dangerous, and required the charge nurse's experience. No one mentioned to us that Jersey #3's heart rate was dropping way too low. People just started coming into the room. It seemed like Doctors and Nurses were coming out of the cracks in the walls. [That internal monitoring was letting everyone know the baby was in trouble, and the computer at the unit desk was alarming everyone to the fact.]
The 3rd time I said "I need to push" (which was really just 3 sentences in succession, even though the details type out longer), the charge nurse said "Yes you do." My body was pushing anyway, so our dialog was actually useless to the situation. There was no time to set up the bed, my legs, my body positioning, or anything. There was no coaching for breathing, pushing, or any routine of the sort. I gave one push that I can take credit for concentrating on, while the nurse pulled a gown up the Resident's arms, and Jersey #3 blasted into the world like a rocket!
There were many hands and many arms waiting to transfer Jersey #3 from the Resident Doctor's hands to the newborn table. This time, the baby was not placed on my abdomen. The cord was cut mid-transfer. Everything happened VERY quickly. We heard him cry, so we knew he was alive. That was good. He needed oxygen, and some bagged resuscitation, which also yielded many physical assessments. There were Doctors and Nurses from a variety of hospital departments ready to assess the baby--Pediatrics, Newborn Intensive Care, Family Practice, OBGYN, L&D. Dr. S walked into the room at the moment Jersey #3 was transferred across the room, but he took the scene in stride. He took a peak at the baby and all the action, then assured us that he looked good. He took a peak over the Resident's shoulder at my need for medical attention, and joked that the baby left skid marks (abrasions) on his way out!
When some of the dust had settled, Dr. S scooped up the baby, and placed him in my husband's arms. He said that he always enjoyed watching the color return to my husband's face, when our children are born alive. After I was all patched up, I got to hold the baby. He was still fussy, breathing fast, and "complaining." They would later classify his behavior in the lump term "transitional issues". He was having a hard time transitioning from womb to world.
One of the other doctors challenged Dr. S, and an intense discussion took place in the corner of the room. She appealed that she was required to assess the baby. Dr. S informed her that after she did her assessment, he would do his assessment! He left the room. While the baby was being assessed, the nurse-who-always-says-no returned to assist me. She asked if I wanted some water or juice. When I asked for a straw, she told me no, that straws cause sucking down air, which would lead to gas. I turned to my husband and asked for the straw out of his finished drink. I joked that gas would be a good thing, because if you pass gas in recovery, they let you go home because all your parts work! The nurse explained to me that she did not know what the doctors were going to do. She said that any time that a baby needs oxygen following delivery, he has to go to the NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) to be monitored. She then explained that she had just sent her previous patient to the NICU, and that it was full. So, she was guessing they would be sending Jersey #3 out of state to the next closest children's hospital.
Dr. S put a halt to all of that. He allowed all of the other hospital departments to assess the baby, make their recommendations, and fill out their paperwork. Then, he did his assessment. He calmed Jersey #3 down, talked to him, checked him out from head to toe, and assured us that he was healthy, alive, and doing well. He put him in my arms and said that was right where he needed to be. Jersey #3 was my only living child who did not take an interest in breastfeeding right after delivery. He went to sleep instead.
Jersey #3 was our baby who most resembled Mackenzie. He was real pale like her too. Ironically, his situation was the closest to hers, only he was born alive. The cord was also wrapped around his neck. When he entered the birth canal, it became constricted, which was what was alarming all the medical staff via the monitors. Thankfully, he was born so quickly that he was able to survive his life support being depleted like that. In Mackenzie's situation, the cord was wrapped around her neck, and it became constricted as her head engaged into my pelvis. For Jersey #3, his off-center position prevented his head from engaging into my pelvis, so the cord was not compressed early on. "Precipitous delivery" has its negative side-effects, such as all those "transitional issues"....exhaustion, weak breastfeeding, difficulty maintaining body temperature & oxygen levels, etc...but for our family, that speedy entrance gave Jersey #3 a chance to LIVE! He cemented our childbearing philosophy--as long as the baby gets here alive, that is all that matters...the rest is just details!
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