Charlotte's Birth Story

*Note: some readers might consider part of this TMI. You've been warned.

I woke up at 2:40 a.m. and felt something trickling out of me. I rushed to the bathroom. I thought it was just a fluke because it was so little (no more than quarter’s spot in the bed), but felt the urge to tell James. I woke him up and told him, “I think my water might have broken.”  He leaped up and insisted we call the doctor. He called and I was a little mad. I knew I wouldn't get to go back to sleep because the doctor would tell us to go the hospital. Sure enough, the doctor called James back and told him to take me to the ER.  I had no pain or contractions and insisted on showering before we went. We decided to take our hospital bag just in case because I was 39 weeks along and the doctor had confirmed Monday that I was 4 cm and 70% effaced.

We laughed and talked on our way to the hospital and arrived closer to 4 a.m. I hadn't turned in my preregistration paperwork yet, so I gave it to the nice gentleman at the ER check-in. I joked with him saying we thought we might as well as preregister at 4 a.m. while we were here but we knew we would be going home soon since we had accidentally overreacted.  When we  entered labor and delivery, they insisted that I give them a urine sample and dress in a hospital gown. I left my top on and put it on. They did a test and confirmed that my water had broken. Patti informed us that I would be staying until the baby was born. I commented that it would be within 24 hours one way or another and she nodded in agreement. We shared our birth plan with her and started feeling her out with comments about natural birth and no medication. She was very encouraging from the start and said she would postpone iv and other hospital regulations as long as possible. We were moved to a labor and delivery room and began our wait for Charlotte’s arrival. I told myself that God had a reason and purpose behind getting stuck here. Even though I wasn't happy, I rested in the assurance that this was true and that I would see and hold our baby within 24 hours.

We walked and walked and walked until I was quite tired. Shift change occurred and Patti left (I got anxious). Kerri stepped in and seemed nice enough but my anxiety was back. She did not put me at ease like Patti. We walked some more and I ate a grape popsicle. I was so irritable that we had not waited at home longer and gotten myself a decent breakfast. We were still not experiencing contractions and I decide to try and take a nap. Kerri thought this would be a good idea. I dosed in and out for maybe 30 to 45 minutes. Kerri checked my progress and I was still 4 cm but 100 effaced. The doctor came in and told me he was not happy with the progress I was making. He commented about midwives letting their patients go on in labor for days, but that he was NOT a midwife and he did not feel comfortable with that. I just stared at him in shock. I was fighting back tears. I didn’t choose him. He didn’t care for our wishes and he was not scoring any brownie points with his form of bed side manners. In my head I just kept thinking “I wanted a doctor why are YOU bringing up a midwife. I’m not satisfied with my lack of progress either. I never said I wanted this to go on for days. Why couldn’t my doctor be on call?” I felt as though he was judging me and making wild assumptions about me and my expectations. He said he wanted to break my water to encourage progress. I agreed. This in my opinions was the first nice thing he had said to me. He broke the bag and turned to the nurse to tell her to immediately start me on pitocin. I calmly asked if I could try walking for just 30 minutes to see if my body would do its job. He forcefully said no and walked out. The nurse left too and I broke down in tears. Why couldn’t I have just 30 minutes? My mine raced with facts. Fact: my likelihood for c-section just went up. Fact: my likelihood for an epidural just went up. Fact: I strongly dislike this doctor who would be making decisions for me and delivering my baby. Fact: I had to get an IV and would be monitored 24-7 limiting my movement and freedom (making me feel like a caged animal). Fact: There has to be a reason. God is in control.

James held my hand and comforted me. I just couldn’t believe how this was playing out. I was very discouraged and scared. For those that do not know me well, I am a reflector by nature. I need time to process and ask questions and in some way come to peace about some things on my own. I did not have peace and I had only asked for 30 minutes. Had he given it to me I can’t help but feel like I would have been encouraged and not beaten myself up as much mentally in this early stage of labor. But alas, he did not give me a choice and the nurses had to follow orders.

I asked Kerri to explain the IV process to me and what would happen. After she did, I felt more at peace (I had thought a needle stayed in your arm and I was terrified that in some weird horror freak show accident is would stick through my vein and cause me to bleed out or something… I know silly but I had an extreme fear of the IV. ) Once she explained it was a flexible tube and that I couldn’t hurt myself with it, I was a peace and we moved on with the doctor’s orders.  I hated to be trapped there and paced around in a little dance pattern next to the fetal monitor. Baby was doing great, the machine was recording slight contractions (that I couldn’t feel), and I felt like I was helping out by letting gravity have some effect. Again this was the hardest part of my labor because I was mad at my body for not working properly and frustrated that I had been bullied into this ridiculously tiny cramped space.

 The nurse visited every 30 minutes and uped my dose of pitocin by 2 until I reached the max of 20. Not a whole lot changed with my body and I just kept hoping it would progress so I would end up with a c-section. At some point I started having mild contraction that I could actually feel and I was so happy. Then nurse said it needed to be more intense. Around 430ish I remember starting to feel contractions that I needed to relax through.  I was very tired and in the bed. I labored in an upright position and actually found the best place was to turn around in the bed on my knees and lay across the back of the bed. James would rub my back and talk me through the contractions.  This was the most helpful part of the situation. He would tell me when the contraction was rising, peaking, and coming back down. This pacing of the contraction kept me strong during the pain. I remember at one point when I was in a really difficult contraction (and it was still rising) thinking to myself, “What goes up must come down.” This became my go to phrase. I also prayed throughout the process and relied  on James for encouraging words.  Before shift change, I begged the Kerry to check me for progress. I was so worried that the doctor would take her via surgery. She checked me and I was 7 cm. I was so happy to have progress but still needed assurance that this was enough. Nurse Kerry commented that that was good progress and James reminded me that I would be entering transition soon so it would be the “hardest” but shortest.

Nurse Patti was back on her shift and she told me she was sorry I was till in labor but happy to be a part of delivery. She encouraged me to change positions frequently and recommended the birthing ball for transition contractions. This was a great suggestion and I would stand between contractions and sit on the ball during. This relieved some of the pressure of the contraction but the unstableness of a round ball made it difficult to relax completely. James supported my back and placed his hand to help stabilize me but I still couldn’t relax completely. I wish we had practiced this more. We mostly practiced the side-lying position during pregnancy. Funny thing is I HATED this position during labor. IT was extra painful and miserable lying down. We tried it 3 times and each time I would mutter “Big Mistake” during the contraction.

Transition was hard but knowing we were so close made it better. As the feel of the contractions changed I felt more and more pressure to push. I asked Nurse Patti when I could push and she said when I felt ready let her know. I told her I felt ready. I lay down and bed and a contraction came which I sat up for. Upright just felt so much better. After the contraction she checked me and said I was at least 9 cm but had a lip on the cervix. She felt like if I pushed with the next contraction it would move over the baby’s head and I would be complete. I agreed and pushed. She was so excited and told me she could see progress from my pushing.

After a few more pushes I was fully dilated and Brittany (a tech) came in to help. She was so super positive and encouraging. The nurses were very knowledgeable and changed my position based on where the baby was in the birth canal. I one point I remember sitting kind of upright and pushing down. I also remember laying kind of back with my feet in the air like a pretzel and pushing towards the sky. I followed Patti’s directions as best I could because I trusted her and she seemed to be an artist at work when it come to giving me advice. At one point I remember her saying now you don’t have to do it this way… it’s just a suggestion and I thought are you crazy!?! You obviously know what you are doing and I am clueless. What you say goes!

James and Brittany held my legs and encouraged me with praise during contractions and pushing while Patti prepped the room and different after birth stations. It felt so normal to push. It didn’t feel good, just took the pain away and I felt normal. It took me a several tries to get the breathing down. I didn’t want to hold my breath and kept forgetting to. Finally, I remembered to hold my breath with each push. The nurse called the doctor and told him she figured it would be about 20 to 30 more minutes until he was needed but to stay close. He came in and looked at me. I say this because he didn’t talk or encourage me he just looked at me…It seemed like he was studying my lower region and reflecting as if I were an observation project. He held his chin and tilted his head and stared.

All I wanted was his approval instead of stares and I recall asking if I were doing okay now. He commented oh yah you are doing great and walked out.  I was glad he was gone I really did not like him. He was so smug and scientific about the whole situation. The way he stared at me made me feel more like a lab rat than a woman working hard to get my baby out.

With a few more pushes the nurse remarked that I had made a liar out of her and the doctor needed to come back because the baby was crowning. My excitement at this overrode my irritation that the doctor would be back. “My baby would be here soon” I kept thinking to myself. The doctor sat at the end of the bed and peered at me over the top of his narrow glasses. His body language and quietness again confirmed that I did not care for him and that he did not consider me a person but a science experiment of sorts. Brittany got called away on an emergency c-section and I was very sad to see her go. Patti held my legs and continued to give me expert advice and praise. At one point they broke the bed down and brought up stirrups to ensure the baby’s head would not get sucked back in between pushes. Patti warned me that I would soon feel burning but that I needed to push through it. She was right but it didn’t burn as badly as I expected... more like if you get a thick shot and can feel the content of said shot being inserted into your body. Between pushing I reached down and touched my daughter’s head. I never thought I would want to do that and Brittany had brought a mirror just in case I wanted to look… (I did not and it stayed turned around). But touching her head made me that much more determined to get her out and hold her. I felt slime and hair and for the first time I believed Patti when she said I was a good pusher and that the baby was crowning.

After watching several birthing videos, I knew that once the head was out it should only take a few more pushes to eject her body so I was almost done. I remember at some point on pushing the doctor told me to push gently and I did. Her head was out and he asked me to wait…. I did. Then I was given the okay to push the rest of her out and she came with a woosh feeling. They placed her on my belly and she peed on me. I talked to her and recall saying things like you are beautiful. I love you. Look at your hair. I kept pushing gently with the not so painful contractions because I was so scared that the placenta would not come out. But it did come out and the doctor handed James scissors and he cut the cord.

Then the doctor told me I just barely tore so he was going to stitch me up. They gave me more pitocin because they wanted to stop the bleeding. Charlotte stayed with me for a few hours and nursed her. I requested orange juice to refuel and then we invited folks back to meet her.

My mom, sister, and mother in law came back first to meet Charlotte, and then mom thankfully went to get me some dinner. (Applebee’s tomato basil soup.) Next, in were my dad and father in law followed by my Mamaw and Papaw Carroll. The hospital was very busy and wanted to take Charlotte to the nursery and we obliged. James stayed with her until she got settled in. Then my mom was back with dinner for both of us and we happily ate.

My Mamaw stayed with me while  James moved our belonging to our new room. I did not want to be alone. The room felt so big a lonely when I was by myself. James got back. They removed my iv and prepared to move us to mommy baby rooms. It was all happening so fast and James got a little light headed and the nurses gave him a sprite and offered him a wheel chair.

The next few days in the hospital, I was full of energy. I wanted to hold my sweet daughter all the time. Charlotte nursed and slept. She was a pro at being a baby. She rarely cried and we actually had to wake her up to sleep.

The end result was worth it. My sweet daughter Charlotte was here. She was healthy and God had blessed me not only with her but with empowerment through his presence and love. The birth of my daughter taught me what it was like to trust God’s handiwork. He had designed my body to give birth, convicted me to do it naturally, and accompanied me through the experience. God is good. God keeps his promises.