What a difference a decade makes.

Twelve years ago, we lived in Phoenix, Arizona. I was young, somewhat newlywed, about to graduate college and panicking about the results of the home pregnancy test my husband picked up in the middle of the night. Yes, we were excited. Beyond that – We. Were. Clueless. 

I called my doctor, scheduled my very first prenatal consultation and was excited about what the next nine months had in store. My first appointment was fine. My OBGYN was fantastic. She mapped out my entire prenatal care plan, but I left feeling like I didn't have enough information.  

Navigating Costs & Tests

I showed up at the pharmacy to pick-up my prescription for prenatal vitamins at an out-of-pocket cost of around $150 per month. We had decent insurance at the time. When I called the doctor's office, almost in tears asking for generic brand vitamins, I was told that prescription prenatal vitamins were optional and I could get over the counter vitamins if I wanted to. That should have been my first clue to start learning about this pregnancy, to be my own health advocate, but I didn't. I had the "take it as it comes" mentality. My first appointment led to other appointments, ultrasounds, tests, then suddenly, my monthly appointments changed to bi-weekly, then towards the end, weekly. I was fortunate to have a pretty uneventful pregnancy, until the end.  

My First Labor Experience

The night after my college graduation ceremony at 36.5 weeks along, I went into labor! Perfect timing! Everything was done academically and my body could finally relax after the stress of final exams. My first contractions came on quickly and without warning. There was no rhyme or reason to their frequency. My mom helped me breathe through the pain and I was doing okay. I was in and out of the tub, unable to get comfortable. Finally, an unavoidable wave of nausea hit and I found myself vomiting. While the goal was to labor at home as long as possible, my mom knew something wasn't right and called the doctor. The twenty-minute car ride through crowded Phoenix streets to the Emergency Room was an eternity of trying to perfectly time traffic lights. I have to say, after that ride, we became experts at anticipating the next yellow light. 

Congratulations! It's a…gallstone?

I was rushed into an ER exam room, checked and declared to NOT be in labor. The pain was unbearable and the next few seconds, minutes, hours, whatever they were, were a blur. Finally, I found relief from medication in an IV that I don't even remember getting. The evening progressed quickly, there were ultrasounds and tests between naps and no food or drink for a long time. Finally, morning came, and a doctor came in to say they wanted to hold me for a few days in the hospital. My diagnosis? Gallbladder disease. I was on a strict diet of bland, non-fat foods. If the situation became emergent, they would operate to remove the gallbladder with my son still unborn. The goal was to manage the gallstones with diet until I was ready to deliver my baby, then reevaluate after I healed from delivery. The next three days I was monitored in the hospital, my urine collected, my blood drawn every 12 hours and nothing but broth to sip on. It should have felt like an eternity, but it didn't. I was finally able to rest. My body and mind were so exhausted from finishing school and preparing to be a mother, I needed the break. Finally, on the third day, I got the news. I was Preeclamptic. Time to induce labor. I barely knew what "induce" meant! My "go with the flow" attitude had served me just fine until then. I'm sure I asked questions, but I did little to no research - except how an epidural was inserted. Spoiler alert – if you have a fear of needles, don't look that up. 

It's Go Time! 

Okay, here we go! 6 a.m. on September 30, 2008. Medicine was applied and it was off to the races! Except - hurry up and wait! A few hours passed and it was time to start more medicine via IV. Contractions started slow and low, nothing I couldn't handle then, suddenly, the pain was unbearable. I knew it was time for an epidural, but I was just so scared of that needle. It was pretty uncomfortable, but it was done. A few more hours passed, my water was eventually broken, and the nurse came in to check me. "Do you feel any pressure or the urge to push?" "I think so…" That was a big, fat, lie. I couldn't feel anything. No pain. No pressure. No pushing urges. Nothing. I should have fessed up, but I was afraid they would lower the medication in the epidural and I WOULD be able to feel. So, I kept tight lipped about it. Shortly after, the doctor came in to deliver. Time to start pushing, except I couldn't feel anything! I had no idea if my body was actually listening to my brain to push. It felt like I pushed forever, I think in reality it was about 30 minutes. Then the doctor said, "You need to push him out, NOW." Oh. My. Word. That got me motivated! The doctor's tone kicked me into gear and my baby was here! Except he wasn't placed on my belly. The cord was cut quickly by my husband and then my baby was whisked away. Those few minutes were terrible. I lay there not knowing what was going on. Finally, a nurse told me his heart rate had dropped enough that even though he was okay, they needed to check him. When he was brought back to me, he was bundled in a blanket with a hat on. No skin-to-skin (not that I even knew what that was). They did encourage me to nurse him within a few moments of meeting him. That was good because I was adamant to breastfeed. That was one thing I had looked into. 

A Good Outcome, But Lessons Were Learned

And so, life began. It could have been much, much worse, but it was by no means the magical birth story I thought I wanted. The amount of medical intervention, which of course was necessary, put a damper on my experience. I should have been my own advocate. I should have educated myself during pregnancy. The induction was unavoidable and with the premise that I could have become Eclamptic, saved my life. I shouldn't have been a big baby about the epidural and I should have been honest about the fact that I couldn't feel what I was doing. My fear of pain got in the way. I have a few regrets about my labor and delivery but in the end - my son is safe, we bonded just fine and life has been wonderful. 

Here We Go Again! 

Fast forward nine years; 2017. We had since moved to Terre Haute, Indiana and I established with a Union Medical Group OBGYN. We got the good news and began the baby-growing process all over again. Baby two couldn't have been more different. During my text-book pregnancy, I researched. I asked my doctor plenty of questions, but one resource I didn't know I would have was a Perinatal Navigator. She came in during one of my first OB appointments and asked questions about depression, lifestyle, food security and more. What a difference from nine years ago. With my first son there was no discussion about my home life or mental state. I looked well-dressed and healthy; I think everyone assumed I was doing well. What if I wasn't? I can say with certainty that I wouldn't have the guts to broach the subject with my doctor if I was suffering from depression or another barrier. I'm fortunate to live in a safe home life with a good support system but I was able to reach out to my Perinatal Navigator for other things. Ordering a breast pump through my insurance and resources for supplies or people I would need to be in contact with after birth was a huge benefit. I learned a lot on my own, too. The various pregnancy apps were my best friends. I felt like I knew everything about breastfeeding and newborn care. I looked into epidurals, unmedicated birth, C-sections, the golden hour, skin-to-skin and delayed cord cutting. I talked to my doctor about my birth plan and learned much of what I wanted was common practice now-a-days. I was ready! The nursery was done, family arrangements had been made and everything was prepared.

"Honey, you've already done the hardest part…" 

On September 7^th, I started to feel some mild contractions early in the evening. Nothing intense at all. It didn't even occur to me that I was in labor. When my husband got home from work at midnight, I told him to sleep because we had a long night ahead. My contractions were more regular at about 13 minutes apart, but still very manageable. While he slept, I moved into our living room and called my mom (who was visiting for the birth) to come sit with me. It was about 4:00 a.m. As I waited for her, things suddenly became much more intense. I found myself on my hands and knees on the living room floor. The pain was awful and there was no break in contractions. It was time to go. I woke my husband and he got the car ready. I could barely walk to the car. It felt like the baby was right there! My husband sped through town and we prayed we didn't get stopped by a train. We pulled up to the ER entrance at 4:45 a.m. My husband left me in the car to check in and came out right away with a nurse and a wheelchair. They rushed me to Labor and Delivery. I quickly got on an exam table. The nurse checked me and I heard her yell, "SHE'S COMPLETE!". A rush of nurses came in the room and sped me to the delivery room. As we turned the corner I said, "I need an epidural! I can't do this without an epidural." A nurse looked down at me and said, "Honey, you've already done the hardest part. The rest is easy." That was the most reassuring thing I had ever heard and it fueled me through the next ten minutes. It was a blur, there were too many people to count and everyone kept saying, "Don't push!" I felt my belly tighten with a monstrous contraction and I said "I can't NOT push! My body is just doing it!" A resident was ready and coached me through one push and one more for the shoulders. At 5:08 a.m. my baby was born! He was immediately placed directly on my belly as I repeated, "Wait for the cord to stop pulsing." After a few minutes, my husband cut the cord and my little boy was slid up my body to try to latch. The resident performed the last of the birthing duties and exited with congratulations. Then, the last nurse asked if I needed anything and said they would be back in an hour. It was just us - my husband, baby and I for those precious 60 minutes to get acquainted. 

Life Begins With Our Second Sweet Boy 

It was unreal. The calm and peace in that room after the hurricane I had created was such a welcome relief. In a while, a few nurses came in and performed the various duties of a new delivery, weighing, footprints, etc. A nurse asked if it was okay to put the antibiotic cream in his eyes. I agreed and she said, "I just wanted to make sure since you were so adamant with the other procedures." It wasn't a dig; it was respect and I was proud that I WAS so adamant in his delivery. And so, life began with another sweet baby boy. Minimally invasive and a stark contrast to my first experience. After the golden hour, I got up for myself and used the restroom. I was asked if I wanted to walk up to my post labor room, after some deliberation, I decided to use a wheelchair. After the first birth, walking wasn't an option for hours and catheters aren't removed for a while either. I was able to eat and drink directly after I was settled into my room. My baby roomed with me the entire stay and we were released home after a few days to begin life as a family of four. 

Union Hospital Eased My Fears

My second birthing experience left me feeling empowered. This is what women's bodies are made to do. Did you know that even in a coma, your body can deliver? The fear comes because we can't get out of our own heads about the pain we might endure. Movies and TV shows have scared us into anticipating a sweaty, panting, screaming, painful event that many women don't experience. I'm not saying medical intervention isn't necessary. I'm blessed with uncomplicated births and I'm grateful for doctors who can and do save lives every day. Things can go wrong during labor and delivery and we need that expertise. I'm also grateful that Union Hospital is Baby-Friendly and has the best interest of baby and mom at heart. They want good outcomes, they want minimally invasive deliveries, but they are there in case that isn't possible. Now that baby number three is headed into the world, I'm hoping to have an experience more in line with my second son's birth. One big difference - I will NOT be laboring at home as long as possible. Sounds like this one will come even faster than the last!