Liam’s Birth Story Part 1

**This is a long story, so I’m posting it in 2 parts. It is the story of Liam being born and my first experience with labor. This was written for myself, but I’m happy to share it with you if you want to take the time to hear our story. While I portray my version of how I wanted to give birth and research that I did, I am not implying that anyone else made wrong choices. This is my story and my opinion for myself. I embrace the fact that you made your birthing choices for you in your time. Peace.

It seems like I am surrounded by new babies and pregnant women, some for obvious reasons, like being at a prenatal yoga class. But all of these babies in the air really bring back the memories of what it was like to be pregnant that first time, with Liam. The other day someone asked me Liam’s birth story. I had told it many times after he was born. I had thought about writing a blog post in memory of it when he turned one. And yet, it still didn’t lie in written form, scribed or typed. So, when the question came up I decided that I must sit down and write it out as best as I still can, because some day it may become blurrier and only highlights of the memory will rise up from the sea of contractions. Still, I hope that this version is as accurate as I can be, as it’s been about 18 months from the day.

During my first trimester Liam had two estimated due dates. When we first found out we were pregnant the EDD was May 1st. The second one, April 21st, was via ultrasound, which we considered the most accurate. This is one of the reasons why I “let” Liam stay in the womb for two extra weeks. I will always say that he was two weeks late, but who really knows what his real due date was. A couple of people voiced their opinion that I should just get induced. The number one reason I didn’t want that is because I was terrified to go into labor, and why the hell would I bring that upon myself on purpose?? Also, I didn’t want to eff with his birthdate. I believe that you’re supposed to be born on a certain day and time and I’m not the one who wants to mess with any astrological repercussions. Also, that baby was safe in my belly. I wasn’t going to drop it on its head or get it tangled in the carseat straps. And finally, I did not want to be induced because I did not want any unnecessary medical interventions and as far as I was concerned an induction because I was bloated and the baby being allegedly overdue was not a necessary enough reason for me. I know that often times if you start with one intervention this leads to another. Literally, a gateway drug, and I was aiming to steer clear of drugs. My personal research found that drugs during labor can sometimes lead to complications. That thought scares me more than pain from the labor itself. It’s also true that often times you are unable to be in control of the labor. You may not know what a contraction is trying to tell you, or when to push, or how hard to push. Since you don’t know how hard to push you may tear. That scares me too, and with my control issues and all, the best choice seemed to be drug-free. My hopes and prayers every second of that pregnancy was that I would be one of those women who has a quick labor with moderate contractions and that the whole thing would sort of be a peaceful and present experience.

So, I was 42 weeks pregnant, on May 5th, 2010, when I entered the sonogram room for an ultrasound to monitor the amniotic fluid, fetal heart rate, etc. I eyed the wavy picture of my baby on the screen while the ultrasound tech prodded through the jelly with the wand. I waited for him to tell me that the baby was just hanging out contentedly, getting closer and closer to the size of an adolescent sumo wrestler. However, this time the ultrasound tech was concerned about the amount of amniotic fluid. In fact, he thought that there was no amniotic fluid showing up in the ultrasound. His recommendation was to have the midwife on call that day bring me to the hospital to be induced. I took the information in waves. First, my baby could possibly be in danger because the fluid had gone from plenty during an ultrasound the week before, to none. Secondly, this man was saying that TODAY was the day my baby would come! With all of the craziness about birth one of the most anxious parts is that it is the world’s biggest surprise. If you do not have any sort of planned induction or cesarean then you reach 38ish weeks thinking any second now my water will break and flood the grocery store aisle and then I will finally be forced to endure the most painful experience known to womankind and welcome my long-awaited baby whose nursery MUST be finished with 18 months of diapers and clothing stocked in the closet. Like an Olympic medalist (except much, much larger and much, much slower) this was the moment that we had trained for.

My husband and my mom were both at the ultrasound and we all drove over to the midwives’ office. Husband was jittery with nervousness of the situation but so genuinely thrilled over knowing that the baby was coming. At Back Cove Midwives I was hooked up to the non-stress test machine to see if the baby seemed to be in any danger. While the test seemed to show that the baby was okay, there was still the concern over the amniotic fluid. I was told to arrive at Mercy’s birthing center, ready to be induced at around 4 pm, and that my midwife on duty, Jen, would arrive when she was done with her shift. Not
anything that seemed rushed or like an emergency. I turned into a bitch. I was petrified of this whole situation and chose to snap at everyone and cry instead of rejoicing like the
much more sane emotion my poor husband was feeling. I didn’t want to be induced
because of the possible need for continued drugs and then possible emergency c-section. I was feeling anxious about the fact that the lack of amniotic fluid was definitely not good for the baby, but that I wasn’t showing up at the hospital for hours. I was terrified to give birth. I was terrified that now would be the start of actually having to be a mom and all of the awesomeness and responsibility that came along with that. And I bitched out. I ended up crying myself into a nap, which in hindsight was really the best thing I did.

{Part 2 to be posted the following day}

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One thought on “Liam’s Birth Story Part 1

  1. Pingback: Liam’s Birth Story Part 2 | The Bebe Diaries

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