Thursday, September 6, 2012

Ford Birth Story Part 1

I'm writing this story really for my own benefit, but thought I'd share it with those of you who like these  sorts of stories. I fear if I don't write out as much detail as possible from this experience, the memories will start to fade and eventually be gone forever. Unlike all of my other births (which I remember with perfect clarity) the memory of this one is a tad on the fuzzy side, so I want to make sure to document it. It is, in fact, one of the most traumatic experiences I've ever gone through. I will include details of all kinds, like what I was thinking and things I remember hearing & seeing. I don't plan on being super graphic, so no worries in that department. However this is a story about birth, so if you are not into that sort of thing you may want to just go back to browsing Facebook or whatever it is you were doing before you stumbled upon this. If you like birth stories as much as I do, read on. And buckle up.

It was a Thursday morning. And just like I had spent the last few Thursday mornings, I had my weekly OB check-up. I was 38 weeks. This was to be my last appointment before my scheduled induction exactly one week later. Like always, I had Ty with me (since he didn't go to school on Thursdays and that was my Doctor's OB day) and Marty met me at the office to help me with him during my appointment. We had a very short wait in the waiting room, but enough time for me to update my Facebook status that I was at my last OB appointment and that next week we'd be having a baby.

The nurse called us back and we did the usual blood pressure, weight check (always super fun), pee in the cup drill. When we got into our room the nurse came in with some paperwork and said, "Ok, I called the hospital this morning and got you first on the list for induction next Thursday." "Sweet," I thought. As any 38 weeks pregnant lady would feel, I was READY. Ready to not be pregnant anymore and ready to meet my baby boy. You see, there wasn't a 100% guarantee that I would be induced in a was only if the hospital had room for me, since I didn't have a medical reason to be induced. So the fact that she got me first on the list was great news. I remember her telling me she had never had a patient first on the list and not get in for induction. Even better news. Ty was born at 39 weeks and weighed in at a hefty 8 lbs, 11 oz. so I really didn't want to go past 39 weeks if I didn't have to. And my doctor was totally on board with the plan, so we were all good to go. My doctor came in and asked how everything was going, and I had my typical response of, "Good. Fine. Nothing New." with a smile. I lied back and she put the doppler on my basketball of a belly and we all listened. My favorite part of those appointments. Heart rate was somewhere in the 130's like usual. Perfect. Then it was time for the ever so lovely dilation check. As much as that's not the most pleasant experience, it did always come with a certain sense of excitement. "Maybe, just maybe there would be big change from last week!" When she told me "my number" I felt a little disappointed. It hadn't changed from last week. It was the same it had been even the week before. Bummer. But the feeling of disappointment didn't take over, because I did have my light at the end of the tunnel after all. One. More. Week. I could do this for one more week. As my doctor finished the exam, I started bleeding. A lot. I couldn't really see what was happening because I had a sheet blocking my view, but I could tell from her reaction, she was a little alarmed. Alarmed. Yes. But just a little. No need to panic. She said, "'re bleeding." She called the nurse back in the room and then she ran out to grab some towels and came running back in. I just sort of stared ahead and watched everyone around go into motion. Marty was getting Ty out of the way. My doctor was calling down the hallway for a wheelchair. She told me she was going to take me over to the hospital (it's right next door) and just check some things out. I remember saying, "Do I HAVE to go in a wheel chair? Can't I just walk??" I didn't want to create a scene leaving her office being wheeled out! She looked at me like I had lost my mind and said, "Get in the wheelchair." As I got up from the exam table, I then realized why there was a bit of panic going on. My feet and the bottom half of the table were covered in red. Hmm. Alrighty....guess I'm getting in this wheelchair. After I stood up my doctor asked if I wanted to just go like I was or put my pants back on. "Hmm...let's wheeled out into the waiting room, down the hall, down the elevator, outside, down a corridor and into the hospital with nothing but a thin white sheet covering me.......or......have pants on?? Umm...I think I'll take the pants please. Thanks." I wiggled myself back into my jeans that I wore almost EVERY day of the last weeks of my pregnancy and remember worrying that I would get blood on them and THEN what would I do!? She started to quickly push me down the hall and outside, down the corridor that led to the hospital. Behind me, Marty carried Ty and I heard him say, "Daddy, why is Mommy in a stroller?" I about died laughing. Then my mind went straight to, "Whew! I bet I am not easy to push in this thing. I am no feather weight at this point." Nevertheless, my doctor pushed on...and increasing in speed almost to a full out run. It started to sink in at that point that she was worried. She needed me at the hospital, in an exam room as soon as she could get me there. Once in the hospital, we went straight to one of their OB triage rooms where they can monitor the baby and contractions. She barged in one of the exam rooms like she was in charge! I remember thinking, "Woah...can we just go in there without even seeing a nurse or an admissions person or anyone??" Seemingly in fast forward motion, she had me get on the exam table, grabbed the monitor for baby's heart rate and the bottle of sticky gel, squirted a big glob of cold gel on my belly and stuck the monitor on.