Lincoln's Birth Story

So it's been almost three years, why not?
I figured I should get this down before I have another birth story clouding my memory though.

I was incredibly anxious to meet our first baby, and around 37 weeks, my ridiculous midwife gave me the go-ahead to begin trying natural induction methods.  So I started doing accupressure points.  They would stimulate some pretty serious contractions right after, but nothing that was going to start labor.

At my appointment the Wednesday before he was born, my midwife offered to sweep my membranes (almost a week before my due date).  I was so excited to meet my baby, I was pretty much up for anything so I said yes.

She proceeded to put me in excruciating pain, I broke out in sweats, I was shaking.  It was awful.  I would consider that worse than any part of labor I experienced.

Sure enough, contractions began and I had bloody show.  Me and Mom walked around the Tyler mall for a few hours, me having contractions pretty regularly.

The next day is a bit of a blur, but my contractions got fairly regular and Darion and I wound up at the hospital around maybe 8 pm.  Our friends Megan and Jonathan came and met us at the hospital.  Because contractions weren't moving closer together, they had me walk the halls.  Megan and Jon walked with us.  Two hours later, they had me lie down to see what my body did.  Contractions had been painful and close.  As I lay down, they spread back apart.  The doctors told me to walk for two more hours.  We did.  At the end of this, I was miserable and sore, and still no closer to meeting my baby.  They sent us home.

The next day, I ran some errands with my mom and sister.  We went to Rite Aid, and I remember crouching down during a contraction bracing myself with the shelf.  Haha!  I must have looked weird.

All day, I'd have to crouch down to take a contraction, still certain this was more of the same from the day before.

That night, I was exhausted from my day of contractions, so I went to bed pretty early.

I kept waking up with the chills, peeing, and going back to bed.  I'd get maybe ten minutes of sleep at a time.  At the time, I didn't think it was anything, and was terrified to go to the hospital to be made to walk yet more!

Finally around 9:30, I was having contractions painful enough that I was audibly saying "Ow," which woke Darion up.  He made a comment that I'd never said ow before, and we needed to go to the hospital.  I was still skeptical and quite frankly, didn't want to have to walk more.  I sort of wanted to wait it out longer, but Darion thought it best we head down the hill so we did.

Lucky for his insight, because after a horrific ride laboring in the car for 45 minutes or more, chills and sweats alternating and 2 square feet of space to labor in, we got to the hospital and I was already 7.5 centimeters dilated!!

I look back now and so wish I'd been just a little farther when we got there, too far to get an epidural.

But alas, I was hooked up to saline for 30 minutes and forced to labor on my back, the most painful position I could have imagined.  I was writhing in pain.  The anesthesiologist came then, and I didn't care that it was a man even though before that had always mortified me.  He did the epidural and I couldn't feel anything after that.  I was glad that Darion was allowed to stay in the room for the epidural.  I had seen often they don't allow husbands for whatever reason.

We had called some family to let them know we were in labor, and Darion's mom, brother, and sister showed up around 11 or so.  This was kind of the worst idea ever because, instead of resting, I stayed up to host.  Darion got some sleep, but I was too excited and there were people there to keep my mind occupied.

Around 3 am, the doctor offered to rupture my waters, and did.  My mom, dad, and sister arrived at the hospital some time around 6 or 7.

Then at 8 am, the doctors said it was time to push.  They sent in a nurse, and I started pushing.  Poor Darion was asleep, and they woke him up, had him grab a leg, and he tried to put the pieces together of what was happening while emerging from a sleepy stupor.

I pushed and progressed great!  At first.

Then they asked me to turn on my side for some reason.  I hesitated and didn't want to because Mom had always told me she felt me flip posterior when they had her turn on her side during labor with me.  I brushed it off that I was just being paranoid, and flipped on my side.  As soon as I did, they lost Lincoln's heartbeat, freaked out, and ordered I flip on my back again immediately.

I flipped to my back, now terrified, and the nurses tried frantically to find the heartbeat again.  My whole life was frozen, waiting for the thumping to resume.  I think my own heart stopped beating!

Finally after maybe 45 seconds that felt like minutes, they found his heartbeat again.  But after that, pushing was different.  There was no longer progress being made with each push.  They brought me a mirror.  I could see Lincoln's hair.  He was so close to being earth side.  But something wasn't right.

The doctors came in and out of no where began throwing around the term "c-section."  I was horrified. I knew c-sections can cause bonding issues I didn't want to deal with.  I didn't want major surgery.  I didn't want them to take my baby away from me right when he was born.  And I didn't want to die.

I begged the doctors to allow me to push - just a little more.  I'd give it everything I had, I tried to convince them through my tears and hysteria.  They finally agreed, and gave me more epidural.

I used a bar, I got on all fours,  I tried everything I could manage to do without being able to feel my legs.  And I pushed.

Two and a half more hours ticked by, and at this point, I'd had maybe 2 hours of sleep in the last 28.  Nothing was changing.  He was stuck.  They had brought in a little tiny asian woman and had her jiggle my belly from the outside violently.  It did nothing - surprise.

At this point, they began throwing around the idea of a c-section again, and I tried again to fight them on it.

Next thing I knew, three doctors came into the room, sat on the edge of my bed, started telling me if my baby had shoulder dystrocia and his head came out and shoulders got stuck, they'd only have 6 minutes to get him out or we would both die.  They asked me what was more important, how he was born, or us living and being healthy.

Essentially, they intimidated me into their will.

I reluctantly agreed, and asked to see my parents in case anything happened to me.  My parents and a nurse prayed with us, and then we went to the operating room.

I just remember it taking forever and being really cold.  And the stupid doctors made me keep my arms out on the arm boards even though that made me colder.  It was cold and sterile and lonely.  Darion wasn't allowed in for much of the event, I can't remember why or when.  But I just remember being alone a lot.  The anesthesiologist posted by my head couldn't hear anything I was saying, and I'm not sure it would have made sense anyway.

Finally, Darion was there, they put up a screen so I couldn't see a thing.  They pulled a baby out and held him in the air.  I got one glimpse of his wild hair and it was silent, then they rushed him away to a table across the room.  I was screaming as loud as I could "bring me my baby!" but no one seemed to care.  I remember being really concerned that his feet were blue.

Then he cried.  But only after everyone in the room let us be terrified something was wrong with him while we sat asking each other "Why isn't he crying?"

Some nurse brought Lincoln over, bundled in a billion blankets and a hat so all we could see was his tiny face.  And it was the most perfect face I've ever seen.  I never understood how moms kissed their brand new babies.  That seemed so gross and gunky.  It wasn't.  I didn't care at all.

I got to rub his little hooded head and kiss his perfect face and drink him in for what felt like 2 minutes. Then they shipped him off to the NICU, I still don't know why.  But I told Darion not to leave his side, and he didn't.

It felt like 2 hours of loneliness after that, and no one can quite confirm for me how long it actually was.  But everyone agreed it was a very long surgery to suture me back together.

The baby who had lived inside me for 9 months was someplace I had no idea even where.  It was awful and I just wanted to go to my baby and my husband.

Finally, they wheeled me into a recovery room somewhere as I convulsed, and literally saw double for the only time I ever had in my life.  What seemed like another eternity later, my baby was finally there!

Within moments of placing him on my chest, my shaking stopped.  People filtered in and out to come see him.  I don't even really remember all who.  But he was perfect and there with me and I didn't really care about much else.

Our hospital stay left much to be desired, from a nurse trying to force formula on Lincoln, to struggles learning to breastfeed, to horrible recovery problems involving needing my blood taken every four hours for some reason.

We had to stay for four days!  It was awful.  We had some great nurses too.  But I just wanted to be home.

I can't tell you how amazing walking in the garage door with our new little life was.  It was our family. And as horrendous as getting there was, I'm so grateful every single day for the amazing little boy who made me a mommy.