As of my last post I was in the throws of the third trimester and hovering around week 31.  Little did I know that Levi was growing more and more impatient as he was physically growing…

On Good Friday, 2013, I took a quick trip to the most loathed destination I could imagine, Wal-Mart.  I intended for this to be a quick trip in to grab an inexpensive, tunic-style dress for laboring at the birth center.  I wanted to wear something comfy but also inexpensive so that if it was ruined in the process, there would be no remorse and I could easily toss it.  I despise Wal-Mart, so I found the dress I was looking for quickly, grabbed a few other essentials (Robin Egg candies are essential, right?) and headed for the registers.  As I was checking out, I felt an unusual gush where and when there should not have been one… I did not panic in front of the other customers and the sweet teenager at the cash register, but I did rush to the restroom as soon as I could.  I assessed the situation and decided it was LIKELY that I had just peed myself.  I had heard so many stories from friends about women peeing themselves in the last trimester.  I had been doing my pelvic floor exercises regularly to help avoid having my own such stories, but sadly, in that bathroom, I thought I was looking at my failed efforts.  I certainly did not want to panic by assuming it was the alternative and that my water had broken at 34 weeks… so I pushed that thought way, way, down… for a moment.

As I walked out of Wal-Mart thinking that I was just some other patron that peed herself in their store (and praying that no one could tell,) I made a quick call to my midwife to update her and the thought that my water had broken crept back into my mind.  As soon as I heard her voice on the phone, I started crying.  I guess I was less convinced that it was pee than I thought.  I had never prayed that I had peed my pants before, but I found myself doing just that at that moment.  After having a detailed discussion with my midwife about what happened, we decided it was likely just pee, and I should go home and relax and keep her posted on any other developments.

I spent the rest of the evening on the couch wondering if I was still peeing myself, constantly.  The “pee” wouldn’t stop coming, in small gushes, and I was steadily stress eating my way through that 5 lb bag of Robin Eggs.  My midwife became concerned and told me to go to the ER just to have it checked out and make sure it wasn’t in fact amniotic fluid leaking.  I pushed the panic way way down, again.  This was just a precaution, noooo worries!  Happy, happy, positive thoughts!  “Wooooosaaahhhh!”

It was around 9pm when we got to the ER.  I tried to remain positive, even when the nurse in Labor and Delivery advised that we get checked in because I was leaking amniotic fluid and my water had ruptured prematurely.  Our impatient little man was going to be making his debut 6 weeks early!  I was obviously worried.  I hadn’t mentally or emotionally prepared myself for complications.  My pregnancy had been super easy, I was in great health, and there were no indications that the remainder of the pregnancy and the delivery would go anything but absolutely perfect.

This was not at all our “birth plan” for Levi.  We had planned to deliver with our midwife group in a birth center, full term, with no meds, no interventions.  I contacted my midwife and she prepared to pack up and head our way to act as a Doula.  She wanted us to deliver in a hospital because a baby this early may need a NICU (panic, GULP.)  We had to come up with a new plan, and quickly, because Levi was ready.

We decided to head to a different hospital to deliver, but not without heading home and packing a couple bags for the hospital. That was one of those checklist items we hadn’t quite gotten to yet because we weren’t expecting to need it for at least another month!  I also needed a shower, if for no other reason than to just give myself a few minutes to process what was about to happen.  By the time we got to our hospital of choice it was after 2am on Saturday morning.  I knew that I should be exhausted but adrenaline had me amped.  I had no idea how this was going to play out.  Was I going to meet my son today?  Was he healthy? Was he ready?  Could we still deliver naturally?

We got checked in, I was put on an IV with antibiotics and fluids and we were told that the doctor would be in for rounds at 8am and we should sleep.  We should sleep, still not knowing what was happening, when baby Levi was coming, and still full of adrenaline.  Sleeping was a joke.  Sleeping was a chore.  I tried, but there was no sleeping.  I could only try to mentally prepare myself for every scenario we might face in the hours ahead.

The entire next day was a blur or complete fatigue, confusion, and panic.  We met our doctor, who, thankfully, happened to be one of the BEST in our area.  He set my mind at ease as much as he could, and he was respectful of my desire to deliver naturally, with the coaching of my doula, using my Hypnobabies techniques.  I was supposed to be spending this day driving to Louisiana to the second baby shower.  I had my mom notify everyone who had already made the trip in for the shower the night before that Levi had other plans for our weekend and to please enjoy the food and party without us!  I felt awful that my aunts had worked so hard to put together a beautiful shower that I wouldn’t get to attend!  I learned later that it turned out to be a great party and family gathering, anyway.

All day, I was visited by nurses non-stop.  I tried to nap but my efforts were futile as the door was always open.  Either a nurse was coming to check vitals, introduce the new shift, or a family member was coming to check in on us.  My poor husband didn’t know what to do so he mainly focused on taking care of the financials.  I was advised by my doctor that we would let Levi come on his own in the next day or two, as long as we started laboring naturally at some point.  I was on antibiotics so baby and I were safe from infection.  They did let me stay in my tunic-style Walmart dress (mainly because I simply refused to wear the gown,) and later they did let me walk around the hospital so that I could hopefully get things moving naturally.

Enjoying an evening waddle around the L&D floor at Christus-St.Elizabeth.

Early Sunday morning, the contractions started.  Levi was ready, and whether I liked it or not, I was going to have to be ready too!  As we continued through the morning, new problems arose.  First, during a check for dilation, the doctor found that Levi was presenting with his hand on his hand.  I was informed that if delivered vaginally this way, he could have permanent nerve damage or a broken arm.  I waited for my midwife and she had me try some different positions for laboring that would hopefully result in him getting into a better position.  The doctor also tried pinching his little hand in hopes that he would pull it back, but Levi refused.

THEN, the next bit of bad news.  Levi’s heart rate kept getting progressively lower as each contraction grew stronger.  Again, the midwife and I made adjustments to my positioning to try to take some pressure off of baby Levi.  No luck.  It helped a little, but his heart-rate was still dropping and dropping fast.

After many efforts to deliver naturally, my doctor finally insisted that we rush into a cesarean.  I had been fighting it, and he was very sympathetic, but he was very concerned with Levi’s heart-rate dropping so severely, especially since we were still in early labor. 

I spoke with my midwife and she told me that she felt like we had done everything we could to try to do it the natural way, but some babies are just stubborn and maybe it was time to call “three strikes, you’re out” on this one.  With her support, and a great deal of anxiety over Levi’s health, my husband and I gave the doctor the okay.  I was on the operating table within minutes.

I had held it together very well through this whole ordeal, even as things got progressively worse throughout the weekend, but when we finally decided on the cesarean, I felt defeated and that’s when the tears and panic overcame me.  I didn’t want to do it this way.  I wasn’t prepared for this, but more than anything, I just wanted my baby to be okay.  He was so early and so stubborn.  I was afraid for his lung development, for his arm, for his heart-rate, and yes… I was afraid of surgery, too! 

The cesarean went well.  As soon as Levi was removed, he wailed with those healthy lungs and I felt relief.  I asked my husband to follow him to the NICU.  I was calmer then.  I knew my baby was okay, I knew I was in good hands with this doctor, and my anesthesiologist talked to me about gardening the entire time which, surprisingly, kept me very calm.  It probably helped that I was heavily dosed on pain medication at this time, too.

Levi was born at 12:12pm on Easter Sunday, March, 31st, 2013.  He was 4lbs 6oz and 18 inches long.  He spent 2 weeks in the NICU and came home with us on April 13th, 2013.

Our very first family photo.

He was and still is an impatient little tornado!  For a long time I felt that I had been robbed of my perfect, serene, birth experience, but I finally realized that I was blessed with 6 extra weeks with the newest love of my life.  My sweet angel just couldn’t wait to start his life on the outside, and I’m thankful every day for the joy he brings to my life!