Here's our beautiful baby boy. Peter Christopher Layton was born on Wednesday, July 28th at 3:54pm. He was a tiny 6 pounds, 8 ounces, and 19 inches long. His birth went really great, considering the circumstances leading up to the birth, and Chris and I feel blessed to have such a healthy and sweet baby boy. For those of you who have not heard the birth story and are interested, read on. Otherwise, enjoy the pictures.
Behold the sideburns and Stucki ears.
I will warn you that this is quite long.
As of my last post, I had just had an ultrasound to make sure that Peter was still thriving and growing. I assumed that everything was going great, because the ultrasound technician said he looked really good. However, when I got to my appointment with the midwife on Friday the 23rd, she told me that she was concerned because I had a "grade 3 placenta." Essentially a grade 3 placenta is an aging placenta that is typically found in placentas past the due date of the baby. They were concerned with calcification spots that might interfere with the baby getting adequate oxygen and nutrition. So, my midwife told me that the next step was to have weekly ultrasounds to determine his well-being.
I was definitely concerned; and after doing internet research, I was terrified. However, I also knew that he continued to exhibit signs of good health: good heartbeat, very active, good amniotic fluid levels, etc. So, by the time I got to my ultrasound appointment on the 27th, I was a little worried, but I really felt that he was fine.
For this ultrasound appointment, the technician was determining his biophysical profile and measuring for: breathing, movement, tone, and (I believe) amniotic fluid levels. Each category was worth 2 points for a maximum total of 8. Peter's score was 4 out of 8 because he refused to move for the technician (and tone is related to movement). I should note that he had been moving all day prior to the ultrasound and even moved after the technician left the room. After such a low score, the technician left me waiting in the room to go give my caregivers the information. She left me in there for what seemed like forever. When she came back, she told me that they wanted to speak with me. I spoke with one of the Obs in the office, and she told me that I needed to go to the hospital right away for a non-stress test. She also told me that she would contact the midwife, and that I should plan to stay the night for a possible labor induction. I was shocked. I asked her if I could wait an hour and a half for my husband to get home from work, and she told me no.
That's when I got really upset. In tears, I called Chris a little after 5:00pm. Unable to get ahold of him made me even more upset, and I was barely able to sputter a message for him that I had to go to the hospital and for him to call me back. So there I was, completely alone with one car and thinking that they were going to force me to have the baby and that my husband wouldn't be able to be there. A little dramatic, I know.
Upon returning home, I immediately called the midwife. I asked her to please let me wait for my husband, and she agreed that it would be fine. Looking back, it actually took me a long time to get everything together to take to the hospital, so that by the time I was done, it was time to pick up Chris.
Having Chris with me greatly calmed me. I really felt like the doctors were overreacting and I felt like Peter was fine. Like I said before, he looked healthy and I felt him moving on a regular basis. I viewed this hospital visit as merely precautionary and I assured Chris that although I had packed everything to stay the night, I was sure we would be going home after the non-stress test.
Sure enough, everything looked fabulous on the non-stress test and the baby looked like he was completely healthy and calm. So, my midwife called the head Ob to give
him the news. She returned and gave us the shocking news that he wanted me to be induced. I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me. I was angry, I felt sort of betrayed, and I felt very upset. I asked the midwife if there was anything we could do to avoid an induction. She went back to speak to the Ob, and he said that if I had another biophysical profile ulstrasound that came back perfect, we could go home that night. So they wheeled me into the ultrasound room (apparently they thought I shouldn't be walking or something) and performed yet another ultrasound. He scored 6 out of 8, because this time he didn't breathe for the technician. Grr.
Chris and I were stunned that we were in this predicament. For this whole pregnancy, we had prepared ourselves for a completely natural childbirth. I had really wanted a natural childbirth experience, and I felt like it was being taken away from me. As I have posted previously, I was planning on a home birth. So, to be in this situation where they were forcing us to have an induction was quite a shock to both of us and bitterly disappointing. I cried a lot. In addition to feeling angry and betrayed, I felt scared. I felt so unprepared for childbirth. I just assumed that Peter would be coming late, and not nearly two weeks early. I felt like I hadn't gone through all the motions of preparing for Peter's arrival. I didn't experience the nesting. The carseat wasn't installed in the car. The baby's room wasn't ready. And now that childbirth was staring me in the face so unexpectedly, I felt completely unprepared.
My poor midwife really fought for us to be able to go home, but she ultimately had to follow the Ob's instruction. So, my midwife suggested that we check how dilated I was and then go from there. After checking me, she announced that I was 4 cm and 70% effaced. I was quite shocked to be so dilated because I had felt no painful contractions up to that point. I had felt some Braxton Hicks in the previous few days that were a little uncomfortable, but nothing too bad. Because I was so dilated already, the midwife said that we would try just breaking the bag of waters and see if that would get labor going. Chris and I felt relieved that they would not have to put me on pitocin right away. Although we didn't know what would happen, we had a sliver of hope that my labor would get going after the water was broken and not need the augmentation. I was pretty sure that if they put me on pitocin that I would need an epidural.
So, I was admitted into the labor and delivery room at around 9:00pm. They gave me my first round of antibiotics (I was unlucky to be Group B Strep positive) at 10pm and told me that they would break my water at 2am. It was a very fitful sleep for me. I remember feeling very shaky that we were really going to have the baby so soon. While I attempted sleep, I felt that I was having some irregular, mild contractions. I think the stress of the day had probably pushed me over the edge a bit and sent me into prelabor. When the midwife came to break my bag of waters at 2am, I was dilated to a 5. I was getting increasingly hopeful that this baby just might come naturally after all.
The next several hours were a bit of a blur. Chris and I were both so sleep deprived, but we were fairly alert because we knew we would meet our son soon. I began having real contractions almost immediately after my water was broken. They were pretty uncomfortable, but manageable. My midwife encouraged us to be as active as possible to get labor to progress as quickly as possible. They hinted that they would have to start talking about pitocin if I had not progressed enough by 2pm.
So, Chris and I walked the halls of the labor and delivery wing. I was having a lot of back pain. All the the contractions I felt were concentrated in my back so much that I only felt pain in my back. Chris was very helpful in giving me counter pressure, which took the edge off of my pain. Through the hours of the morning, Chris and I tried all kinds of labor positions that we learned from our Bradley class. Some helped, and some made it worse.
My contractions increased in strength through the morning, but they didn't seem to be coming very regularly. Sometimes they would be 7 minutes apart, sometimes 3. My midwife asked me throughout the morning if I wanted them to check my progress, but I declined. I figured that I hadn't progressed very much because my contractions seemed to have leveled off for a few hours. So, we walked some more.
Finally, my contractions started to get really intense. I was in part relieved that my labor was progressing, and it looked like I might escape an augmentation after all. At the same time, I was in serious pain. After an hour of hard contractions the midwife checked me and I was at 7 cm. I was so discouraged! I was worried that I was going to be in transition for eternity! At around 12 or 1, I asked to go into the jacuzzi because the pain was so intense. My midwife and nurse clearly did not want me to go into the jacuzzi because it can slow down contractions. At this point, I didn't care what they wanted because I felt miserable. I think I can safely say that I was right about my not having a high pain tolerance. Transition is famous for causing women to go into a highly focused state, and this was very true for me. It wasn't that I willingly focused because I wanted to--it was a more unbidden and sort of involuntary focus. I was focused inwardly because it was what I had to do, so to speak.
By the time I got into the jacuzzi, I almost felt like I went into a trance. I was still aware of my surroundings, but marginally. Part of this was because I was so tired, but part of it was because I was beyond the point of comfort from Chris's counterpressure or the comfort of the water, and I had to find my own sort of personal comfort. This was the time that I told Chris that I didn't want to go through the pain anymore. All I could get out was, "I don't want to do this any more." His response was to tell me that I was almost there and that we would meet our son soon. Although I gave no response, I sourly thought, "I'm going to meet our son whether I have pain relief or not!" But, then I remembered that I wanted a natural childbirth all along. And I figured that since I had gotten that far, I could deal with the rest.
While I was in the jacuzzi, my nurse came in and asked if the contractions seemed like they were coming more or less regularly. We had not kept track, but I told her I felt like they were happening less frequently but with greater intensity. Chris later told me that the nurse left the bathroom muttering, "I knew that would happen!" regarding my contractions slowing down.
But before too much longer, I started to feel a lot of pressure. I told Chris and then I got out of the tub. It turns out it's kind of hard getting out of a tub and drying off when you're in transtion. But somehow, I made it back to the hospital bed. I was so exhausted from no sleep and not being able to keep any food down that all I wanted to do was lay on my side. The contractions were actually harder to deal with in most of the labor positions, that laying on my side felt the best (or I should say bothered me the least).
I told the nurse that I felt pressure, and she decided to check my progress. I was at 9 1/2 cm. Soon after she checked me, I suddenly had uncontrollable urges to push. With each contraction, my body would automatically convulse into pushing. The nurse told me that I couldn't push yet or I would tear my cervix. Trying to not push when my body automatically pushed was easily the most unendurable part of labor. I was SO frustrated and it took so much of my energy to try to control something over which I had no control. Again, SO FRUSTRATING!
By this time, the midwife re-enterd the room, asking what was going on. My nurse had somehow disappeared and Chris had to inform the midwife that the nurse checked me earlier. My midwife was really irritated that the nurse checked me and then failed to inform her of my progress. So, as they're frantically trying to ready the room and the bed for Peter's birth, they're still telling me not to push.
Eventually I let my body push because I sort of instinctually knew that I was ready and he was ready. When they actually told me to push, it was a big relief but also very hard work. I really wanted to squat for the pushing, but I was completely wiped out and had no energy. So I unfortunately ended up pushing more or less on my back. The midwife was working very hard on preventing me from tearing, and the nurse was coaching me on how I needed to push. It took time, but eventually I learned what kind of pushing was effective.
I pushed for what seemed like forever. By this time I was praying hard because it felt like every push drained me of my energy. If I was going to have enough energy to get the baby out, I felt like I needed extra help. And it wasn't super helpful to keep hearing "You're almost there!" only to have to push again and again. But eventually, his head was out, and it took one more push to get the rest of him out. The release I felt was almost exhilarating, but I was surprised that I still felt pain and discomfort. I guess I wasn't one of those women for whom all pain disappeared when they held their babies. But, the pain was overshadowed by getting to hold my baby immediately. Peter had a little bit of a cone head from all the pushing, but I was surprised by how beautiful and sweet he was. He actually wasn't crying all that much--just softly wimpering a little. It was such an amazing moment and I couldn't believe I finally got to hold the little boy whom I had been carrying for nearly 9 months.
I must concede that immediately after Peter's birth, I felt like I never wanted to do natural childbirth again. I really appreciate that an epidural can take away that kind of pain. However, now that I have had a little more time to process all of it, I realize that I actually would do it again.
In the end, Chris and I felt very blessed to have a very healthy baby boy. We also felt amazed that we were still able to have the birth experience that we wanted, especially given the circumstances.
More baby pictures and updates to follow soon...
