Not my birth, Nezzy's birth

Years ago, my best friend introduced me to a podcast called The Birth Hour that I found to be totally interesting and also helpful in some ways. I love reading/listening to people's birth stories. What an absolutely insane time that always ends with... a baby. Alive, not alive, no health issues, tons of health issues - the stories always end with a baby. And that is such an incredible mystery of life to me. I believe every time a baby is born, a new part of a woman's life begins. So I think writing your story is really important. 

Like many women, I had a challenging birth story. It took me months to be able to look back on it and not sob. My mom kept encouraging me to write my story, and finally one morning I felt like I could try. Angel saw me tapping away on the laptop and asked what I was doing. I told him I was writing my birth story and he let out a huge laugh and then was like, "I SWEAR white people just wake up in the morning and decide some weird shit to do. HOW do you even remember that?" I said, "It was like three months ago..." He said, "You're like 27..." I said, "NO! The story of when I had Nez!" He said, "THAT WOULD BE NEZZY'S BIRTH STORY."

So - here is Nezzy's birth story:

On Tuesday, November 7th, 2017 I went in for a routine midwife check up - three days later my daughter was in my arms. 

Aside from the regular aches towards the end of my pregnancy and lots of random and kind of ridiculous/funny things here and there like skin tags and feet that looked more like balls with toes, my pregnancy was heaven. Growing Inez was the most life changing experience I had ever had. 

Now that we know her, her incessant stretching and kicks make a lot more sense. I often felt she was clawing to get out! There was a particular song from Aziz Ansari's show that my brother used to play while she was in the womb that got her particularly bouncy and kicky. I love how her personality was already beginning to form in utero. 

My midwife, Deborah, is probably one of my most favorite people in the world due to her incredible care and wisdom throughout my pregnancy and even still. As we got closer to Nezzy's due date, we had conversations about what my home birth would be like, what would lead to a hospital transfer, and how I could best prepare for any scenario. She let me know that a steady blood pressure of 140/90 would automatically mean no home birth for me. I was incredibly stressed just hearing that. My blood pressure hadn't risen that high, but the thought that anything could put me in the hospital was just enough for me to flip out. 

I had to start actively thinking of ways to relax - my dad sent me to his reflexologist to help me relax for a solid two hours. It was incredible. And then the next day I got a call that rushed me to the hospital - for him. He had shattered his femur (above a knee replacement) and was in the ER. This altered the course of all of our lives and added an incredible amount of anxiety and stress to me and many in my family. The following weeks were a blur and my premonitions of Inez coming earlier than her due date were feeling more and more real. 

My brother, Craig, and his wife, Kara, began to help me get our house in order. My nesting was definitely pressing but the time I had to do so was being spent at my parents' house. It was incredibly hard for me to find any sort of balance while we dealt with the acute issue and still try to care for myself. I was doing the best I could.

On October 30th I had what I thought was my last ultrasound. Nezzy was measuring at almost 8 pounds and I thought about my poor vagina and how she still had another four weeks to cook. YIKES! 

November 7th, I went in for a regular midwife check at almost 37 weeks (Thursday the 9th I would have been 37 weeks) at the birthing center. My blood pressure at this appointment was 160/100. Obviously incredibly concerned, my midwife asked me and Angel to go back to one of the birthing suites and just try to relax for about 30 minutes until we could recheck it. She wondered if it was a situational stress. Of course, I went back to the birthing suite and laid on the bed crying while Angel stroked my head and prayed for me and encouraged me. I was so anxious thinking about having to have my daughter in a place where sick people go to die. 

Deborah came to check me thirty minutes later and my BP had gone down to 120/74. Ah. Sweet relief. But Deborah would never just accept that (thank God!), so she had me start a 24 hour urine test to determine the amount of protein in my urine as she had an inkling that I was headed for pre-eclampsia. 

Wednesday morning she told me to go to into the Maternal Fetal Medicine clinic to get another ultrasound as well as a non-stress test. Nezzy was looking great on everything. I was able to submit my 24 hour urine test to the lab on Wednesday evening.

Thursday morning around 10am I got a call from Deborah that I will never forget - she said 300 is the pre-eclampsia mark and my proteins were at 480. She said we needed to start getting our things together to go to the hospital. She began calling the hospitals to see who I could work with to get the best chance at the kind of birth I wanted. A local hospital has a group of midwives, so we tried there first - however they said my proteins were definitely wading too deep into the waters of pre-eclampsia and that I would need to see whatever ER OB was on shift right then. Deborah told me I needed to be to the hospital checked in by 2pm.

I was terrified to get to the hospital and potentially finding out I was with a male OB. If anyone has to stick their hand in my vagina, they better know what it feels like to have a hand stuck in their vagina. That is my very brief dissertation on why I prefer female to male OBs. Deborah found out a female doctor was on shift but only until 7pm. Cue anxiety.

Deborah was sure to tell me to eat and drink whatever I want before I got to the hospital as there is nothing you can do to get pre-eclampsia, and nothing you can do to get rid of it (except have your baby). So Craig and Kara brought God's food over (Chick-Fil-A) and I nervously ate chicken nuggies while I tearfully packed bags and tried to think about how I would want my house to be when I came home from the hospital with our new baby.

That Thursday morning will forever be sealed in my memory - in those few hours that morning there were so many overwhelming emotions... Not only was this girl going to be here many weeks before we expected - but the thought of being induced in the hospital just went against about every single hope I had had for my birth. Angel was beyond excited at the thought of meeting our daughter early - his ecstatic joy was probably what kept me from spiraling while I did laundry and packed. 

Angel and I drove to the hospital and got checked in. We were in an OB trauma bay and Craig and Kara + my marmie came in too. They had me hooked up and the baby hooked up pretty quickly. My blood pressure was continuing to rise, so they gave me meds to start trying to bring that down. My female doc came in and checked my dilation (hard pass on that FYI) and I was at "less than a 1" AKA ZILCH. They began an IV and started to pump Misoprostol to try and ripen my cervix. They decided to fully admit me and soon we transferred to a room - the room where I was set to deliver Nezzy.

At around 5pm, I felt little twangy sparks in my uterus - caused by the Miso. It wasn't anything that got anyone excited and on the monitors, it was showing I was having tiny contractions. I had learned around now that the next doctor on shift was a male doctor and that was heart-sinking news. He was supposed to come in and meet me around 7pm when he came on so I could know what the next plan was - but I didn't actually end up being seen by him until around 11pm. That was frustrating. 

The thought that had been floating in the air was the insertion of a Foley Balloon. If, like me, you had never heard of this - it is a catheter with a deflated balloon at the end that they feed up your vagina, into your cervix where they then blow up the balloon and fill it with water. The idea being that later when this water balloon naturally falls down, you are then dilated to around four centimeters. I was obviously very terrified of this suggestion, but knew we needed to get Nez out. I was also keeping in mind what my best friend Lydia had told me before I went into the hospital that day - that I still have choices in the hospital. I still have say - and I need to hold onto that power. 

So the male doctor finally comes in at 11pm and says, "Ok so now we're putting in the Foley?" I said, "Actually I'd like to speak about that first - it was just suggested and I would still like to give the Miso a chance to work." He said, "Oh, I was told that was the plan - but that we didn't have any left. We found one, so now we can do it." I asked some more questions and learned that my contractions would immediately start once the Foley was in, so I thought about how dumb it would be to purposefully begin the most exhausting part of my life thus far at midnight after no sleep that day and asked him, "How badly does it hurt to put in and how long does it take?" He said, "Oh it doesn't hurt that badly and it should take about five minutes." This dude had no clue. And I had asked him a few questions on how I could labor and he said I should be lying in bed the entire time (I was sitting on a big ball when I was asking questions and he said he didn't even want me on the ball then!). That sealed the deal for me on not doing it that night. I'd wait until the next morning when a female doctor was on shift.

So I slept - as much as you can sleep with a nurse coming in and repositioning the fetal heart rate bands every hour. The next morning my new female doctor came in and we started talking about options. She told me she wanted to try the Foley. I agreed to just get it over with. Angel stood up by my head while she did it - I bit into his shoulder so hard he had marks through his hoodie. That is still the worst pain I've had to date.

The Foley was in (they added Pitosin too), I ate breakfast and then - contractions started. Hard. I worked through them with the help of Kara and my marmie. I had my playlist on the entire time and rocked back and forth - bent over the bed. They kept trying to get me to rate my pain - like I am supposed to know what contractions feel like and how painful they should be (eye roll). Then a few hours later, I had to pee and my foley fell out. Everyone cheered and the nurse said, "YES! You must be dilated to about a 3-4 now!" But deep down, I was positive nothing had changed. 

And I was right. My doc came in to check my dilation and Nez had gone higher up in her station and I was officially at a zero (not even a less than one, you guys!). I asked the doctor to bring me any stats she had on first time moms with pre-eclampsia that have been induced and what the odds of them ending up in C-section were. My biggest concern was continuing to labor even longer and then end up in an emergency C-section anyways. She gave me the odds (which were pretty high in favor of C-section)  and also told me she would like to try the Foley balloon again. I didn't have ANY peace about that. I began to pray and talk and cry. 

I was so exhausted of this process already and still had so much left to do to get my baby here. The doc gave us some space and Angel, Kara, and my marmie prayed with me. My marmie suggested calling Deborah because she had been so helpful every single step of the way and discuss with her the options.

In short (like I've done anything else short in this story), Deborah encouraged me to listen to my gut and to know she was supportive of a non-emergency C-section decision (my gut). I had such a strong feeling that Nez wouldn't come vaginally. I had such a strong intuition that I could go through countless hoops and still wind up in surgery, so I just told the doctor that this was my choice - that I would do the C-section. The doctor seemed hesitant at first to encourage a C-section. She thought there was still a chance that she could come vaginally, but once I made the decision - she was supportive.

A couple hours later, I was being prepped for a 5:30pm C-section. This was on Friday in case you got lost in there! My marmie and Angel came with me into the surgery. My marmie stayed by my head and Angel knew he was supposed to go wherever the babe went. The anesthesiologist was horrible and while doing my spinal, actually called for a "bigger needle" quite loudly. I looked at Angel like he better shut him up or else. I felt my entire lower body go numb and they laid me down. I started to get super nauseous and began throwing up. My marmie was catching my puke while I began to feel like a rocked boat with whatever was happening past the sheet.

It was super fast - at 5:44pm I heard my daughter cry and through more throwing up - I began to as well. They showed me her big beautiful head of jet black hair and I said, "IS THAT REALLY MY BABY?" Later, Angel asked for a maternity test. Maury wouldn't take us on. Rude. 

I heard the doctor who had thought she had a chance to come vaginally say, "Good choice mama! She was never going to come vaginally!" I watched my husband, who was so sure he wouldn't cry, begin to cry through his little beard mask and just hold his hand on her vernixy little back. She was screaming and it was music to my ears. They rocked me like a boat to put me back together and that made me throw up some more. Then we all headed back to my room. I was super out of it - they had put me on Oxy and didn't tell me. Still one of my biggest angers. I don't remember my family visitors that night and I was puking in my bed the whole night. I didn't get to truly snuggle with my daughter with skin to skin or breastfeeding because I kept throwing up.

That night was such a massive blur - nurses kept coming in to do the fundal massage. I couldn't really sleep, so Nez just snored on my chest. Her cheeks were so, so massive - like pillows of her own. In the dead middle of the night two nurses came in to have me stand and walk to the sink. I still had a catheter in and was bleeding a good bit. By the next morning I felt like a new person and remember all my visitors that day!

There it is, folks. Not MY birth story....

Inez Alexandra León

November 10, 2017 @ 5:44pm

8lbs 9oz | 19.69 inches long

And the best thing that's ever happened to me.