Henry’s Birth Story – An Unexpected C-Section And A NICU Baby

Today I’m sharing my birth story! My sweet baby Henry is now 6 weeks old and though I wanted to post this sooner, the mixed emotions of writing this and caring for a newborn made it a longer process. It was hard, but I’m glad to have this big life moment written down for memory sake.

Having a baby was the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. This birth story is long and emotional for me since a birth plan gone wrong left me feeling guilty and full of grief. Some may read my experience and say, “Be grateful it wasn’t worse” or, “It wasn’t as bad as you make it out to be”… but this is my story, my experience, and when failed expectations meet postpartum hormones, there’s bound to be significant disappointment. Even though it was a rough beginning, I am so blessed to have a happy and healthy son.

Henry’s Birth Story

Monday, August 13

During the last couple of weeks of pregnancy, I started experiencing light contractions that continued to grow in intensity. Monday, August 13th I woke up to a different kind of contraction but I’d already learned not to get my hopes up. These contractions continued throughout the day about 1-3 times an hour. Brady arrived home from work around 6:30 and while we were eating dinner, I knew that the contractions were becoming something more. I lost my mucus plug and had my first bloody show (sorry for TMI but this is a birth story!) before we got in bed around 9:30 PM. I made the call to skip my heparin shot since I wasn’t supposed to take it once I went into labor and it seemed as though I was. By bedtime, my contractions were a minute long and 5-10 minutes apart. They weren’t intense but I was only able to get 2-3 hours of iffy sleep in the middle of the night.

Tuesday, August 14 (Due Date)

Contractions were progressively getting closer together by 6 AM (about 5-7 minutes apart) so Brady made the call to stay home from work. We got up and went for a slow waddle walk around the neighborhood. Then we pulled out some Wii karaoke and Zumbo’s Just Desserts on Netflix to help pass the time. We had to pause whatever we were doing while I was going through a contraction. During one particular contraction, I was crying out when Brady jokingly pretended to have the contraction with me. I groaned at him to stop and he replied, “We’re doing this together!” to which I replied, “No, we’re not!!!” We started laughing really hard about it as the contraction ended.

Hanna’s boyfriend flew into town around midday and we all went out for Indian food. His trip was going to be short and the baby’s arrival seemed imminent so we spent the afternoon playing a long game of  Settler’s of Catan. While we were playing, there was a rainstorm in our front yard but absolutely no rain in the backyard. It was a funny phenomenon. My contractions were still consistently between 5-7 minutes apart and took most of my concentration. They were painful but not unbearable. After 4 PM they slowed to 8-10 minutes apart and by 7 PM they were 10-15 minutes apart.

I took a bath to help alleviate pain and tension and to get in a little relaxation before bed. However, the contractions ramped up and were strong and lasted all night long. They were about 90-120 seconds long and coming every 6-10 minutes. I was writhing in bed and no sleep at all.

Wednesday, August 15

By the time we got up on Wednesday morning, the contractions had slowed again and I was only having contractions every 10-15 minutes. My biggest mistake was not taking these breaks as an opportunity to get some rest. We had a quick lunch at Panera on the way to my afternoon OB appointment where I was only 3 cm dilated (up from 1 cm the Friday before). We went home feeling deflated because Brady had already taken a couple of days off of work and we had no end in sight. We picked up a pizza, I took another bath, and we watched MasterChef before getting ready for bed. That’s when things got real.

By 10 pm, I was settling into painful and heavy contractions. I tried using the tens unit and Brady applied counter pressure on my lower back during contractions. I tried doing squats next to the bed and sitting on the toilet to survive the contractions which were lasting over 2 minutes each. I threw up my dinner all over the bed around midnight and the pain was getting harder to manage. We called the medical advice line around 1 am with contractions consistently under 4-5 minutes apart and got the ok to go to the hospital in Baltimore. We put the last few items in the hospital bags and then Brady helped me out to the car. We had to pause by the front door to suffer through a contraction before hustling to get me in the car and on the road by 1:30 AM.

Thursday, August 16

The drive to the hospital was 30 minutes and I can’t count the number of times I had to remind Brady to slow down. Stereotypical dad thing, I guess. Contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart and I was crying and tensing my way through each contraction as Brady tried to calmly talk me through them. Once we arrived at the hospital, we waited for my contraction to pass before heading to the emergency entrance. We shared a sweet kiss before we headed in knowing that when we came out, we’d be leaving with our baby boy. I almost made it to the entrance before getting hit with another contraction. Someone grabbed us a wheelchair, brought it out to us, and within a few minutes we were on our way up to labor and delivery. I had to sign a few papers before getting my room.

I got changed into the hospital gown and found out I was still only 3 cm dilated. It was frustrating news after the hours of intense work I’d been putting in since seeing the doctor on Wednesday afternoon. I didn’t want the IV in my hand but they claimed that was the only place they could put it in which annoyed me. The doctor ordered me to spend an hour walking to help move things along. So from 2:20-3:20, I waddled the halls and spent a few minutes slow dancing with Brady to “Close Your Eyes” by Meghan Trainor. They checked me again and I was finally at 4 cm but after this, the next 24 hours are a big haze to me. 

I should have gotten back up to walk the halls, take a shower, anything really but I was dead tired after a few long days of labor and no sleep. I was crying through my contractions and I needed rest. Here’s where it went downhill; They knew I wanted to go natural but they offered Stadol for relief so I could get rest. I didn’t want medicine but I also desperately wanted rest. So I said yes even though I’d sworn I wouldn’t take any analgesics during labor. First Strike.

I felt the effects immediately but after 30 minutes, my nurse came back in with a bag of pitocin. She didn’t ask me or tell me, she just did it. I wish that I had been with it enough to fight her on it but I didn’t. I think Brady asked me about it because he was concerned but I was still hazy and I think I said I didn’t care. Strike two.

The pitocin ramped up the contractions to an unnatural level and I was literally screaming with every contraction. Brady was trying so hard to help me through the pain but I was losing the fight with each one. I have to take a moment here to acknowledge how hard things had to be on the other side… I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for him to see me dealing with that level of pain. I know I asked him multiple times if he was doing ok because I know it had to be rough on him as well. Roles reversed, it would have been so hard for me to see him dealing with that kind of pain.

I got a new nurse at 7 who was so nice and sweet (we really did not like the first nurse I had). After about 45 minutes of being with me, she suggested that maybe I should really get an epidural because of how intense my contractions were. Instead of saying ok, I wish I’d asked if we could stop the pitocin… I finally said ok (strike 3) and for the next 30 minutes, I stared at the clock while waiting for them to give it to me. They came by 8:20 and made Brady leave while I was getting it. I had to stay still but since my contractions were coming every 3 minutes I wasn’t sure I’d make it. The anesthesiologist got it in quick and it was immediate pain relief. I was going to have a snack before they came in to give the epidural but after I had the epi, they said I wasn’t allowed to eat anymore. I was extremely hungry since I’d thrown up all my dinner and I was exhausted from not having slept in a few days. I was a mess. For the next few hours, every time someone would come into the room, I would ask if I could eat something – even if it was just a honey stick! I kind of wish I had just eaten…

The baby didn’t respond well to the epidural and started to have decels during contractions. The doctor came in to try a few different things to get things looking better. I was given oxygen, had my water broken,  she put in a monitor and they started putting fluids back in which still wasn’t working. Around 12 PM the doctor said that she wanted to do a c-section before things got any worse. I wish I’d asked or pushed for alternatives but I was tired, scared of something happening to my baby, and I was already disappointed I’d given in to all the interventions.

People were in and out of the room prepping me until they took me off to the operating room around the corner. They did more prep in the OR and I was afraid they weren’t going to bring Brady in before they started but he was brought in at the last minute. I felt extremely nauseous from the hunger so I was given nausea medication and alcohol wipes under the oxygen mask.

At one point during the surgery, it felt like my belly was cut down the center (it wasn’t) and my skin was being tugged up to the ceiling (maybe it was?!). After a little while, they said “Here he is! He’s a big boy!” and they waited the 60 seconds we’d requested for delayed cord clamping (I’d originally wanted it to be much longer). Brady and I started to tear up and have an emotional moment because our son was born and the moment we’d been waiting for was finally here. We kept waiting to hear our baby cry but we were only hearing small murmurs. Our nurse came and said everything was good so we were temporarily relieved.

Henry was born at 12:51 PM, August 16 weighing 8 lbs 6 oz at 19 3/4 in long.

The NICU team took him once his cord was clamped and we watched (I was in a partial daze from all the drugs and I also wasn’t wearing my glasses) as they checked him out. They kept working on him. No one was saying anything to us but we quickly realized things weren’t going as they should be. Eventually there was a little cry but not the typical newborn wail. They finally said they were going to have to take him to the NICU for respiratory distress and because of that, I didn’t really get to see my baby on the day he was born. 

They finished with my surgery and took me back to my room. I had intense shakes that I couldn’t calm down and a sore/pinched shoulder that developed during the surgery. I don’t know which drug or hormone to blame in combination with days of exhaustion and hard work, but until about 2-3 am the next morning, I was extremely drowsy. Brady went to see the baby and came back with a few photos and a video to show me but he had a hard time getting me to focus long enough to look at them. I do remember telling him that he looked just like his daddy even though he had tubes all over his face.

I believe the it was on my transfer to the postpartum side that they took my bed to the NICU to meet Henry. My memory of this moment was that I still couldn’t see him but I kept reaching out to try and touch his feet in the warmer. Brady later said that they left us alone for a while so we could have our first family moment but that it ended up being him just sitting there watching the two of us sleep (broke my heart when he told me this).

I still don’t remember much over the next few hours beyond different medical professionals coming in and out of the room, having intense shaking attacks that I couldn’t control, and occasional random pains I couldn’t rest through. A lactation consultant came by at 9:30 pm to see me as her last patient and to help me start pumping. I struggled to stay awake but I’m so grateful she stayed to see me since I was so out of it. I am extra thankful to her because I don’t know how my breastfeeding journey would have gone if she hadn’t come to help me. I was still out for the next few hours but I was up to pump around 12:30 am and at 1:30 the tech came to help me get out of bed (I don’t remember the reason why). She brought a wheelchair so we could go to the NICU and see Henry. Brady had already been on his own sometime in the afternoon so that our baby wouldn’t spend his first day alive all alone.

Henry was in his own room with a nurse when we got there and he’d been taken off the SiPap (thankfully) and she helped him into my arms so I could FINALLY do skin-to-skin – 13 hours after he was born. It’s an unbelievable feeling when you finally get to hold your newborn baby in your arms. I was so in love and I never wanted to let go.

I’ve already mentioned that this birth story is extremely emotional for me and that’s because I didn’t get a natural birth/meet my baby moment/the first few days of bonding time. I feet guilty because I know that anything could have happened but I honestly believe that it was the unwanted interventions that caused me to have a c-section and put my son in the NICU. I wanted a natural birth because I wanted to do what I thought was best for my baby – not having any extra medicines being pumped into his system during labor. I’d dreamed of having the immediate bonding experience that comes from actually birthing and doing immediate skin-to-skin. I not only lost out on both but I had to watch my son be poked and prodded among other things for multiple days in the NICU.

The top priority was that we both come out healthy and alive, which we are now, but my mental health is important as well so maybe that helps explain the heartache I’ve dealt with. If I could go back, I would have tried to force myself to walk more after that first hour in the hospital and I would have been forceful about not receiving pitocin at all but I can’t change the past… only go forward with a better understanding for the next time. I know I’m putting a lot of blame on myself… but really the healthcare system needs to take better care of mothers.

I’ll leave on a high note and say that having a baby with my husband has taught me a whole new perspective of love. I have never loved him as much as I do now. He did an amazing job as my support and has been incredible in his new role as a dad.

This birth story has already been long so I’m going to pause it here and share our first few days/recovering from a c-section and his first-month update in a different post as soon as I can.

Thanks for reading Henry’s birth story!

Read: Recovering From A C-Section With A NICU Baby And Bringing Henry Home