Our Birth Experience - Part Two

***Warning Again: This blog contains my account of the birth of my twin boys. There will be words like vagina and cervix. If this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to read a different blog. ;-)

After an often interrupted night of sleep, my OB came to visit me around 7:30 am. My epidural was still in place and I was feeling good. I had noticed that feeling was returning in my leg and that I was feeling sensations like the nurse and doctor checking my cervix.

My OB said he was going to insert a foley balloon. What this basically means is that they insert a tube into your cervix (which was still only 2cm dialted) and inflate a bubble on the inside of your cervix. They they weight the other end and the weight pulls the balloon through your cervix causing the cervix to open.

My doctor was a regular McGuyver when it came to this procedure. He asked the nurses assisting him for two surgical masks. He then tore them apart using the ties for rope and tied two IV bags to the end of the tube and hung them off the end of my bed.

We were all talking and about five minutes later it popped out.

'Oh no!' I said.

"What?" replied my OB.

"It came out!?!"

"Oh good," he said. "It's done then."

"That was it??" I asked.

"That was it."

So now I was 5 cm just like that and could finally move to the bigger room where I would labor until it was time to push my beautiful little boys into the world.

My doctor told us he'd see us when his office hours were done this evening and hopefully Baby A would have moved on down (he was still at minus 2 station) and we could break my water and have some babies! Yeah!

We gathered all of our things and moved down the hall and around the corner to the labor and delivery room closest to the OR. This way when it was time to push it would be a quick trip to the OR to pop them out!

By this time it was just after noon and I was exhausted, but excited that in a few hours we would meet our little boys. I was so glad that our doctor was taking things so carefully, I felt confident that I would not be facing another c-section.

We got to know our day nurse very well as she too spent most of her time sitting next to us chasing my mischievous babies with the fetal monitors. On a few occasions throughout our labor they had been forced to bring in mobile ultrasound machines so they could find baby's heart and place the monitor exactly. Often times they would get the babies all set only to realize the way they were laying both monitors were picking up the same baby's heartbeat. At these times I had met two of the residents in Maternity and briefly been introduced.

We talked with our nurse, Amy, about our first delivery and our fears about a repeat emergency c-section. She explained to us that the reason we were waiting for our little boy to move down was that if the water broke before he did there was a chance of a prolapsed cord, meaning the cord made it into the birth canal before his head and with each contraction he would be cutting off his own blood supply and thus oxygen supply. She also said that they would probably be putting a sensor into my cervix soon to measure the pressure of the contractions since it was a VBAC just to make sure things weren't too intense in there.

I trusted my doctor wouldn't let anything happen and heaved yet another sigh of relief that we had found the doctor we had. I knew my babies and I were safe and that since it was a VBAC every precaution was being made.

Around one o'clock my nurse went on her lunch break and a nurse we hadn't met yet came in to cover. No big deal as we had already gone through a number of nurses. I was so tired, it had been almost 36 hours since we arrived at the hospital and I had gotten sleep in fits and starts.

Two of the residents I had met briefly on one or two occasions during those ultrasounds in the wee hours came in for the usual check, or so I thought.

They came in and checked me and told me they were going to break my water.

Whoa! What!?!?

The resident told me that she was going to break my water and insert a monitor into my baby's head but assured me it wouldn't hurt him.

Like hell she was!

I told her I did not want her to do that and as the other resident during their exam said Baby A was still at minus 2 station I knew that he had made absolutely no progress since we spoke to our doctor.

If I hadn't been so exhausted I would have asked to speak to my doctor immediately.

But here's what happened instead...

I burst into tears arguing that I was not okay with her sticking anything in my son's head whether she thought he could feel it or not. Startled by my tears she apologized and agreed to not put in the sensor but insisted she was going to break my water to 'get things moving'.

My husband and I both argued that the resident standing right next to her had just said that the baby was still minus 2.

She told me that she could feel his hair and that she was going to guide his head with her hand. I was so exhausted and so was my husband and I don't know how it happened but somehow she convinced us that she had it under control and she was right and we were wrong.

Yeah.

She broke my water, smiled and told me that the fluid was clear and that was a great sign and then she patted my knee and they left. As my nurse was coming back from her lunch.

Sigh.

I just wanted to cry, I felt completely railroaded and my husband was so furious at the same feeling that he was pacing like a trapped, rabid wolf. We told our nurse what had happened and she was surprised and tried to help comfort us. I suggested that my husband go take a walk and get something to eat. We still had a long way to go.

My Dad stayed with me while our nurse, Amy, began the fun job of tracking the imps on the monitors again. My husband kissed me and said he'd be right back.

Amy was talking with me as she watched the monitors and a minute or two after my husband left she asked me to turn to my left side after this contraction.

Ok.

When it was done I helped and we got my numb self flipped over. I asked what was up. She was very open with me, she said that Baby A's heart rate had dropped just a little on the last contraction and she was hoping this would help.

I tried not to hold my breath as I watched the monitor and saw that sure enough there had been a dip instead of rise during the last contraction. I stared as the next contraction started and my heart skipped a beat when his heart rate went down again.

My nurse leaned down to me and told me not to worry, that it sounded worse than it was but that she needed to have someone else come and take a look just to make sure everything was alright.

I nodded, stunned as she pushed the call button and requested an emergency team to my room. Suddenly, I heard an alarm sound down the halls and my room filled with people. Someone checking my temperature, someone checking my pitoncin, someone checking my pain meds for my epidural, someone putting an oxygen mask on me and someone checking my cervix.

Then I heard those horrible words.

"We have a prolapsed cord."

I tried not to panic, this couldn't be real, it had to be a mistake.

Then my nurse, Amy, who I trusted more than any other person at that hospital other than my OB right then, leaned over to me as I tried to breath and told me that this was very serious and we were going to the OR and delivering now.

I    lost   it

I went complete hysterical. It was happening again. That's all I could think, "It's happening again." The horror that we had spent all this time trying so desperately to avoid was here and I couldn't escape it. And my husband wasn't there.

In a matter of seconds I was disconnected from everything and my entire bed, including the nurse now on top of my bed with her arm inside me trying desperately to keep my baby off of his own cord, was being wheeled out of the room and all I could see was the ceiling and that horrible plastic tasting oxygen mask. I couldn't even see my father and I was crying so hard they kept telling me to calm down and breathe but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't.

I have never been so terrified in my life and the one person with the power to bring me back down from my hysteria and make me believe it was all going to be okay was somewhere in the hospital getting lunch with no idea that I needed him...

** My husband and father filled me in on their experience after the fact. Here is a summary of their accounts.

My nurse turned to my Dad, as I was being wheeled out of the room, and told my Dad to get my husband up here now before handing my Dad scrubs so he could be with me if my husband couldn't get there in time.

My father called three times, but the reception was horrible and after two calls he was going to leave a message on the third. My husband answered this time and all my father said was "You need to get up here now!"

My husband ran to the elevators to find that everyone seemed to want to take the same one at the moment so he ran to the opposite end of that tower to the other elevators so he could get on one faster and get to me.

He skidded into the room, where he had left me tired and pregnant and fine not fifteen minutes before, to find my Dad very slowly putting on scrubs hoping he wouldn't have to go in my husband's place. He threw Hubbie into the scrubs and pointed down the hall with a, what could have been comical under other circumstances, "They went that way!"

My husband ran down the hall and around the corner to find...nothing. Not a person in sight.

He grabbed the first person to come around the corner and demanded to know where I was. The nurse peeked his head into the first OR and said, "Nope."

After taking five seconds, that felt like an hour, to look into a second OR (during which my husband barely fought the impulse to push past him and look for himself), he confirmed I was in there and sent him in.

Back to me...

In the meantime, I had been rolled down the hall and into an operating room that would have been chaotic if it wasn't so organized. There were probably twenty people in the room between the NICU team for the boys, the anesthesiologist, the nurses and the doctors. I wasn't even sure my OB was going to deliver me. I was in a room full of people and I had truly never felt so alone.

My doctor arrived, I felt a small wash of relief and was finally, with the anesthesiologist's help, calming down and breathing almost evenly, as he dove right in. By the time I registered that he was there they were beginning the surgery.

This managed to start me into hysterics again because my husband was going to miss the birth. In that moment I realized that I needed Amy and like an angel she appeared next to me and took my hand.

I started to cry again, or rather more, and felt so grateful that I had one friend in the room to hold my hand when she let go. I turned to see why and found myself looking into the most wonderful, and familiar, brown eyes. My husband had arrived.

As he kissed my forehead and told me it was all okay, that everything was gonna be fine, a cry rang out in the room. Our first son, Richard had been born. We barely had a moment to process when another cry reached our ears. Samuel had arrived!

We could see our beautiful boys as they carried them to the heating tables to check them out. They held them up so we could see them for a moment. They were so tiny and perfect.

Just a side note, my first birth was an emergency c-section as well, though not as hurried as this one. My daughter was a week late and fluids were low causing her to compress her cord. Wanting to have the safest delivery we were taken calmly to the OR and my husband was taken to a room to get dressed in scrubs before joining me. After she was born he went with her to the nursery while the surgery was completed and I was all stitched up.

Which means that he wasn't there for the part where my body reacted to the trauma of surgery and birth and medicines with body wracking shakes that were intense and uncontrollable.

Back to the present birth...

The boys had arrived and the adrenaline rush that came with the rush to the OR was beginning to wear off. I had been 'in labor' for over 35 hours from the start of our induction to the birth of our boys and I was exhausted.

One of the nurses checking out the babies asked who Baby A was, we told her that was Richard. As my husband said Richard his little hand shot up as if waving Hello to us for the first time. All we could see was this little arm sticking up from the table. She told us that he was just staring so intently at her, so alert from the moment she lay him there he had just watched her.

Samuel on the other hand, after his initial protest at being removed from his toasty warm jacuzzi, had fallen asleep. Good boy! He didn't even wake up with he was giving his Vit K shot. Poor baby, he was tired.

This was around the time that the shaking reached its peak and I was lying on the table, my entire body shaking almost violently and uncontrollably, as my eyes kept drifting as my exhaustion set in.

My husband held my hand tighter and looked more and more concerned. As my eyes drifted closed again he told me to open them. That I had to stay with him, that I couldn't leave him. He frantically called to the anesthesiologist wanting to know what was wrong.

The anesthesiologist came over and quickly told Hubbie that I was fine. My blood pressure was fine, I was doing great and he told me that if I wanted to close my eyes and rest it was okay. He assured my husband again and again that this was completely normal and I was just fine. I was so tired I finally closed my eyes, but I kept as tight a grip on my husband's hand as I could to reassure him.

My boys were healthy and pink so there were allowed to stay in the OR with me. As I had requested they did not leave my side. I wanted to have the chance to hold them and bond with them as soon as possible.

My husband, being curious stood to watch as they stitched me up.

My OB and the resident were talking as they stitched. He asked what had happened. Now that all the hurry was done and the boys were delivered he was ready for the download. She filled him in on her visit to me and then said, "And then I broke her water."

My OB's eyes shot up mid-stitch to the resident's face. "What do you mean you broke her water?"

Not wanting to continue the discussion there that was the end of it for then, but I was sad to realize that as I had feared the resident was not following my doctor's orders.

All stitched up and no place to go, I was waiting to be moved to post-op and my OB stopped by my head to kiss my forehead and tell me what a great job I'd done and how perfect they were. I knew then for sure that we were okay.

Once I was moved to the quiet room to rest after surgery, I was able to nurse each of my boys. Sammy ate and, of course, fell right back into a beautiful sleep. Richard ate and spent a minute or so studying Mommy before snuggling in next to his brother all swaddled up for a nap as well.

My Dad came into the room and we both teared up as he hugged me tight and I assured him that I was okay. That's twice my father had been forced to stand and watch me wheeled off to the OR for emergency surgery. I hate to think the scares my three kids will give me over the years.

This was my second and last birth experience. After the two traumatic arrivals, or rather three, of our children we feel that if we are meant to have more children, we will adopt them.

Thank you for joining us on this journey. I hope you enjoyed the experience, highs and lows alike, as much as we did. I also hope that you learned a thing or two.

If I could go back the one and only regret I truly have in my life thus far is that I didn't ask to speak with my doctor when they decided to break my water. I am grateful that that decision did not hurt my son and that God must have sent extra angels to watch over my children that day. For that I will always be grateful.

                            Richard (Baby A) and Samuel (Baby B)

My Birth Experience - Part One

** Warning: This is my birth experience including as many details as I remember. If you have a weak tummy when it comes to needles and words like cervix or vagina, I recommend you read a different blog. ;-)

I know it's been almost three months since my boys were born, but this is the first chance I've had to sit down and write about their arrival. As you know I was very specific about how I wanted this birth to go, but also tried to keep an open mind since after an emergency c-section with my first birth I learned first hand how quickly plans can change.

So here is my second birth experience.

I was almost 38 weeks and my Doctor and I decided to go ahead and induce labor before my big healthy babies got too big. My doctor, who has a wonderful VBAC rate, assured me we would take things slow and be very careful so that I would have the most chance for a successful VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean).

At just past midnight the morning of Monday, November 8th we were admitted and taken to our first labor room where our goal was to reach 5 cm dilated so we could move to the bigger (and nicer, with a window even!) labor room just down the hall from the OR where we would be delivering regardless, just in case.

We were nervous but excited that we were finally going to meet these two amazing people growing inside of me. My nurse introduced herself and gave us the rundown. Then she got things going by attempting to start my IV and her attempt on my left arm didn't work because apparently she hit a valve. Instead of continuing to poke me, she went and got a fellow nurse to try to get my IV on the second try. She found a vein on my right arm, started to do her thing and then stopped and sighed as she apologized that apparently she blew out the vein. Which just meant that I was going to have an ugly bruise later and still needed an IV. A third nurse came in and promised to do her best to make the third time a charm and using my hand instead, she placed the catheter right in and my IV was finally in place.

So began the pitocin, nice and slow to be safe, and IV fluids to keep me hydrated now that I shouldn't eat, except italian ice, or drink, except ice chips, in case the labor (read drugs) made me nauseous.

By now it was around 2am and we were settled in for the long haul. I was still having trouble with my left hip as I had throughout my pregnancy and laying in the bed was making it worse. Walking probably wouldn't have helped, but even it if had it was pretty much out of the question as I was attached to fetal monitors at all times. I wish I could say I slept during those first wee hours, but since every time my nurse left the room one of the babies got mischievous and moved away from their monitor sending the machine into a panic LOL! our nurses got to know us very well. By 9am my babies were famous for their antics.

Every time I went to the bathroom I had to have help because my hip was hurting more and more. Walking on it hurt, lying down hurt. Nothing seemed to help.

My contractions were increasing to a steady rhythm with the help of the pitocin I was feeling them, uncomfortable at first and then moving to quite uncomfortable, but certainly tolerable.

My hip however was not.

With the IV making sure I was well hydrated I was getting up to pee every hour or so and with each trip walking became more and more difficult. My husband was helping me out of bed to take the five minute walk the five feet from the bed each time and he could tell I was struggling more and more.

By the time early afternoon arrived I was having so much pain when I walked that I didn't care about the growing intensity of contractions. Those I could handle, but I thought this hip thing was going to be the end of me.

Finally, on what felt like my 30th trip to the bathroom about 12 hours into my induction I couldn't take it anymore. I had made it to the bathroom with my IV pole and gone pee, but was in tears at the thought of having to stand again, much less walk all the way back to my bed. I looked at my husband, tears starting to pour down my cheeks and told him I wanted an epidural.

This was my pain threshold. I had reached it in 12 hours and it had nothing to do with labor! Talk about plans changing.

My Dad was in town for the birth and had been keeping us company as my contractions increased, talking and joking, helping to encourage and distract. As soon as the anesthesiologist arrived he took a walk. I wished I could join him.

I had seen oodles of epidurals performed during my obsessive pregnant days watching every birth reality show on tv. I had even seen a woman fall asleep in the middle of hers. Which I actually did when I got my spinal block before my emergency c-section when my daughter was born. Weird.

All I could think about was how much my hip hurt and how much I wanted it to stop. I knew we were still at the beginning of this adventure and I was exhausted.

I knew exactly what they were doing and tried to pretend I didn't.

My husband stood in front of me, not a nurse. I don't think a dozen large and burly men could have removed him from that spot. He really was amazing.

This was nothing like I had imagined. It was so much...well worse. I can't think of a better word.

Being a learning hospital there were two people behind me. One was doing it while the other coached her through it. She didn't seem like this was her first rodeo, and two to make sure everything was going right sounded good to me.

When she finished putting the cold brown stuff, antiseptic, on my back and did the local it was just like I remembered last time. A slight bee sting and then a warm feeling. But then everything changed. When she put the needle into my back for the epidural I nearly had a panic attack sitting there.

The only way I can describe it is that it just felt wrong. Not that she was doing it wrong, but think about it. A needle being pushed into the space between your vertebrae along your spinal chord into the fluid surrounding it. There is nothing right about that.

I started to shake and panic. Tears were pouring down my face, I didn't know if I could keep it together.

Then my wonderful husband leaned his forehead again mine and coached me through it. He was amazing.

Once they were done, which seemed to be hours later, I was able to sit back and all the 'weirdness' that had caused the shaking and tears just went away, like waking up from a bad dream. I felt a little silly for crying and shaking, but they were very supportive. Epidural in place I soon was a very happy Mama to Be with a hip that I couldn't feel anymore.

At the end of the day I was still no more than 2 cm. Which is all the further I had gone with my daughter. My OB stopped by to check in and pick on me for looking so comfy when I was supposed to be in labor.

He said they were going to turn down, even off, the pitocin until the next morning and give me a break. He even said I could finally have some solid food. Yeah!

Since this was about 9 o'clock at night, the kitchen sent up what they had in the way of a quickly made veggie plate. Lots of veggies and fruit. I was in heaven. I didn't make it through much as my appetite was small after no real food in so many hours, but I did eat more than I thought I would as my wonderful husband fed me bite after bite. I was so tired, I probably wouldn't have eaten more than a few bites on my own. Lifting that fork just felt like so much work! LOL

We tried to sleep that night, with my epidural in place my hip was behaving, but we still spent most of the night getting to know our nurses as our night nurse then got the trouble babies on the floor who like to get chased by monitors at all hours. Already famous for staying in one place just long enough for the nurse to think she's got them before moving as soon as she gets down the hall and setting off alarms that bring her right back to us, our babies were making quite the impression and they weren't even born yet!

That was Day One, as it were, of our birth experience.

Stay tuned for Part Two of our birth experience!!!