Peter's Birth Story: March 30th 2022

I'll give you fair warning, this is not for the squeamish! If you ever use the phrase “TMI”, my whole blog may not be for you!

To start, I began having Braxton-Hicks contractions from 24 weeks and on. I had them super frequently. About 1-2 weeks before I delivered I noticed they got stronger and more painful. When I mentioned it to my doctor she pretty much said “Yeah, they can suck! It can be normal!” And I had my cervix checked and there was no progression so I didn’t worry about it. Monday, March 28th I had a really bad anxiety episode I think triggered by how bad and frequent the contractions were. But I was thinking it was a cycle, the anxiety was causing the contractions. I was so distraught about whether or not to go in to get checked. The thought of going in and being alone and nervous especially just to get sent home just gave me major anxiety. I don’t recommend this of course, always go with your gut. But my gut tends to be broken, and responds to anxiety with diarrhea. You know what also responds with diarrhea? Labor being eminent. It was such a bad anxiety response that I was nauseous, and shivering because I was getting so cold. But I decided to just mind-over-matter it. I’ve gotten so much better at regaining control of my panic attacks and BELIEVING I am actually in control of my mind. One of my favorite quotes ever is relevant here: “Your focus determines your reality.” I put on some warm pajamas, let my body clear out and breathed very slowly. I decided if it really was labor, then it’ll wake me up from my sleep and I would need the rest anyway. Thankfully I was able to go to sleep.

The next day, Tuesday, March 29th, I worked from bed in an attempt to really just relax myself and tame the contractions. Something odd happened that day too. I was out in the little garage area putting a load of laundry in with my dog, Zeppelin. I heard a couple rounds of gunshots in the distance which isn’t unusual for Tucson, the neighborhoods are all speckled with good and bad areas. I calmed my Zep girl down, and then heard a single loud POP. I said “INSIDE” and my girl and I booked it inside and called my husband. I texted my neighbors and they heard it too and agreed, it sounded like a gunshot. Later that evening, I was in a stinky mood because I felt like I was expecting another anxiety night. My husband, Andrew came home and we ate dinner and went to relax in bed early. We put on a movie and I felt this wild child inside of me push his shoulder up against my right hip and kick my ribs on the left quite hard. Not 5 minutes later I felt a little gush. It was NOT pee… I jumped up, ran to the bathroom and stared at Andrew while holding my nether region and repeating ”UHHH” over and over. I dropped my drawers and saw a little fluid on my underwear. I wiped and saw it was pink tinged. “Aw HECK” I thought. This is real… no way in heck I’m not going in to get checked now.

I called my sister in law since she would be attending. This amazing and calming woman has created 5 children! If that isn’t someone you’d want in your corner, I don’t know who is! She said yep, time to go in! I called my parents and then I called the hospital triage. While I’m on the phone with triage I asked “So my husband will park the car then come meet me at the same place I entered?”. They said no… he has to wait in the car until you are admitted. What in the hell… my heart dropped. That means I will be all alone. As soon as they told me this, Andrew came into the room and said “Someone fucking shot our car”. Goodness gracious… What a moment I will never forget! Someone must have been fiddling around with a gun and shot a single bullet through our driver side mirror, the window, the seatbelt mechanism and glass was everywhere. And y'all...

remember how I was in the garage area doing laundry when it happened? That was directly behind my car! My husband was pissed. As he was cleaning glass out of the car, and tossing the bags into the trunk, I was clearing out some more diarrhea and trying to keep myself calm. He even put the bags in before I had added my last minute grabs, he was honestly excited!

We finally left an hour later, so this was around 9pm. Surprisingly, I hadn't really had any contractions during this time. I was so sad. I had been so happy I was having an April baby as it’s my favorite month in Tucson, but he said no and wanted to come in March. I was scared… I was only 35 weeks and 4 days along. I thought there was a good chance he would have to stay in the NICU. Which means being apart from me and an even more hefty hospital bill. We were already expecting to have to hit my out of pocket maximum of $6,500. One thing I have learned about myself is that I have stifled emotions so so much over the years as a coping mechanism. Pregnancy seems to have brought me to a normal human level of emotion. I have realized that crying is an excellent emotional release and helps anxiety so much. Not only mentally but physically.

So we arrived at the hospital and I sucked up my tears because now I had to be a big girl. I walked over to buzz the doorbell on the triage door. Gush… yeah my water is broken for sure. The nurse let me in and asked me if I am wearing a pad. I said yeah, well, a panty liner. She laughed and said that’s not gonna cut it! But all I had so far was a little gush! Boy that nurse was right. Because she handed me a hospital gown and a cup to pee in. I went to the bathroom and the floodgates opened. All down my legs, into my flip flops. I struggled so hard to try to minimize the mess while getting them their pee in the cup. The contractions started ramping up. Oh boy, here we go! I got out onto the triage bed and apologized for the mess I’ve made. They hooked me up to the machines to monitor Peter, checked me and confirmed it was definitely amniotic fluid. I was 1cm and 70% effaced at this point. There were no beds available in L&D… Ugh.

So I was alone. Andrew was alone. There are other women there in the other “stalls” in triage, but they’re all quiet. Triage was slammed too apparently. The contractions were DEFINITELY ramping up, and ramping up fast. I remembered what my sister in law had advised, to use low toned groans to help cope. You want your body LOOSE and not tensed up so it can do its thing and open up. So I tried my best to allow myself to groan and breathe and sway. I quickly went from “ooooooh” to “OOOOOOOOOOOOOH”. I’m sure all the other ladies were wide eyed hearing this whale in the last stall. They checked me again and I was 2.5 cm and 90% effaced. I progressed quickly. I was so sad that I was alone. I couldn’t help but cry that I just wanted my husband but he couldn’t be there because of a stupid virus. I was so frustrated that I was obviously in labor but couldn’t get a bed because there WERE NO BEDS. They said they’d give me the epidural as soon as I get to my L&D room. Because I was preterm I didn’t have to wait until I was 4 cm like normal laboring women have to. But that's what ended up happening anyway because I was alone in that stall for two and a half hours. It’s no one's fault… but if I could change anything about this experience it’d be that. Despite this, I think I coped extremely well. I have a very high pain tolerance, as confirmed by this experience. I joked and rested between contractions.

Finally they told me I was about to be transported and to call my husband to come meet me. OF COURSE. My signal went out just then. My calls weren’t going through, my texts weren’t delivering. I was in pain, and eager. Finally my text went through and I wasn’t waiting for him. A nurse slowly walked me back, stopping to cope with each contraction. They were about 2 minutes apart at this point. What helped a lot was knowing that each contraction will end and I will have relief between. This is a fact, a very helpful and important fact. I got back to the room and Andrew met me there. I’m leaning over the bed swaying. My goal is to still allow my body to open up and shift the baby down so movement is your friend. I was so happy to see him! At that point they checked me and I was 3.5 cm and 90% effaced. I labored a little bit longer and then the anesthesiologist came in. Boy was that an experience. I was a little nervous about that needle. But ultimately I knew it couldn't hurt worse than these contractions, so bring it on! Camille, my sister in law, arrived at this point and I was so glad to see her too! NOW it was feeling real and joyous! I was catheterized, set up with a peanut ball and we all rested a bit.

I was checked a while later and was a 7. Then shortly after a 10. I quickly applied a little makeup to feel human (and I’m glad I did!). I was happy and nervous. Boy, I’ve never done this before! They asked me if I wanted a mirror. I said HECK YES! I had read that it can help especially when you have an epidural to aid in how to push, to see what is working and what isn’t. I watched, Andrew watched, Camille watched. If you ever get the chance to see human life emerge into this world, DO IT. It is amazing.

I pushed for 40 minutes. I held the outside of my legs (Andrew and a Nurse had my legs held up) and Camille snapped some pictures and videos. I am so glad I have this experience documented! The most painful part of pushing was my head. The doctor instructed me to hold my breath and that created immense pressure in my head. You could hear it in my swollen sinuses after I released and spoke. I swear, that wonderful doctor had her whole fist in me! She poked my “sit” bones and told me that the baby was getting stuck on there. So I suggested I bring my knees in together to open those bones up. That worked like a charm! Thankful I followed so many L&D Instagram accounts, otherwise I wouldn’t have known to try that! That’s when he finally came out.

My first words? “WOW! That came out of me!” I could see his little head crowning and I had thought that was all there was of his head, which made me nervous because he would have been REALLY tiny. I was wrong, that was just the tip of his head! They laid him on my chest and he let out a weak little “ahhh!”. My sweet boy! They took him, assessed, suctioned, used the hose to suction deep down. He cried a little bit more then. His apgar was at first a 7 then an 8. He was 5lbs and 8oz, and 18 inches long, born March 30th at 5:00 am at 35 weeks and 5 days gestation. I had 2 internal small skin tears and a 2nd degree that went towards my anus. It went to the edge of the round muscle around the anus. Thank God it didn’t go further! I was at the hospital from 9pm and delivered at 5am, so 8 hours of actual laboring. 9 if you count from the time my water broke. I asked what the chances were that he would come home with me and not need to stay in the NICU. They told me 50/50!

We recovered a bit and then it was time to pee. I couldn’t walk so they put me on this cool scooter thing. (Very technical terms, I know!) When I got to the toilet, I was able to pee and there was a lot! I had to push it out and because of that I put too much strain on myself and my vision faded out and my ears rang. I told the nurse and 3 more rushed in. First they put an alcohol swab under my nose. Then they put the ammonia. OOOOF. I took a big whiff of it and it burned so badly! But I was back! Then it was time to be wheeled to recovery. They had me hold the baby while I was in a wheelchair and I’ll be honest, I was pretty nervous I’d drop him simply due to exhaustion. My husband says he doesn’t even remember going from the L&D room to the recovery room and he walked on his own two feet!

The nurses checked him over often, and we had a little trouble with him regulating his blood sugar. He had a little trouble learning how to use a bottle at first too but figured that out. He could not figure out how to latch to the breast as my nipples were flat and his mouth was extra small. Thankfully he was able to nurse with a nipple shield! I was encouraged to pump every time he fed. I’m so glad I did too. Your supply is directly related to the demand and this set me up for success and I was able to syringe feed him some colostrum. During his first 24 hours, he only dropped one ounce in weight! The next thing we battled was jaundice. He was kept under this big light machine and we needed to call a nurse to take him out and put him back in every time. I couldn’t hold my baby as much as I really wanted to because he needed to be in the light. But I was determined to get the heck out of there so I was vigilant. Friday they deemed the jaundice levels okay and then he needed to pass a 2 hour car seat test. His heart rate and oxygen levels needed to stay stable for 2 hours straight. If they didn’t, he would have to restart the 2 hour test all over again. That was nerve wracking…. But he passed!

We finally went home on Friday around 5pm! I was so excited and happy to be home! I was thankful I was ridiculously over prepared because I had everything I needed already all set up. We had a great weekend and went to his first appointment on Monday. They tested his jaundice levels and told me he would need to be admitted again if they were too high. I crossed my fingers and toes. 5pm rolled around and I figured the doc wouldn’t call us that night. I was wrong. She called around 6pm after we had put in an order for Olive Garden for pickup. She told me she was sorry and that we needed to go to TMC and they’re expecting a 48 hour stay. My heart broke. I was home, I didn’t want to repack everything and we weren’t sure if Andrew would be able to stay with me. Because again, stupid virus. And arbitrary rules. He would be allowed to be there for x amount of hours but not the rest? How effective is that? Do the benefits really outweigh the isolation and lack of support? Yeah, let’s move on. I was distraught, but thankfully he WAS able to stay with me! I know he just needed a little light therapy and it wasn’t a big deal really. I figured it was gonna cost us an ADDITIONAL $6,500 for his out of pocket max now too. Money we definitely do not have. Andrew was thankfully able to take a week off of work, and this is not how we wanted to spend it. So I rushed around packing and crying. My mother in law was kind enough to pick up and bring us our food. That saved me so much! By that point I was nauseous from not eating and I knew I needed to put something in my stomach. So we ate a little and then went to the hospital. Thankfully it was set up as a direct admit so no waiting before getting a room. That was SO wonderful!

This time the light that was over him was portable so I made sure I did diaper changes and nursed him under the light. It was a very long night. But… his levels improved so much so quickly that we weren’t even there for 24 hours when they expected 48!

When we got home, I had some anxiety for a while feeling like I wasn’t allowed to settle in because I had been jerked back into the hospital once without expecting it. Over time I relaxed though as his checkups were going well and the yellow slowly went away.

It was wild and unexpected but all in all I feel extremely blessed as things could have gone so much worse!