I found out I was pregnant on January 30, 2013. Given our history with miscarriages, I was immediately nervous about this little one. What made things even more complicated was that my husband had just been let go from his job a few weeks before; while he had had a couple of interviews since then, nothing concrete was on the horizon. I couldn't help but ask the Lord what He was thinking with this kind of timing.
I should have known better.
I waited till that evening to tell Randall, mostly because I was afraid of his reaction. I should have known he wouldn't be anything but excited and hopeful. He told me that God would take care of us and this baby. A couple of days later, on a Saturday afternoon no less, Randall got a call from the district attorney's office in Canton, where he had interviewed earlier that month. He was wanted for a second interview that Monday, and things looked very promising. By Wednesday he was accepting their offer to be the newest assistant district attorney at their office. My worrying had once again been for nothing; within a week of finding out I was pregnant, God secured a future for us.
We remained on my husband's old insurance long enough for me to squeeze in a few appointments at my current OB's office before having to move. At 7 weeks we had our first ultrasound and saw our little bean, so we felt it was safe to tell immediate family our good news. I chose to keep our secret from everyone else for the time being; I was so overwhelmed with all of the changes in our lives that I wasn't sure how to handle everyone knowing right then. And admittedly, part of me was still guarding my heart in case something went wrong like the other times. At 8 weeks I had another ultrasound and the baby was still doing great. My due date was slated for October 3rd and things were looking up.
I was around 10 weeks when Randall went on ahead of us to start work in Canton. Caleb and I remained behind for another week to pack up the house and to get one more appointment in at the OB. My parents came up to help with the packing and I'm so glad they did. The fatigue was hitting me big time and there was no way I could have done it on my own. During my 10-week appointment at the OB, I found out our old insurance was deactivated and we would have to pay for that visit out of pocket. Unfortunately, the doctor I saw also ordered additional tests when he saw three miscarriages in my medical history. I decided to go ahead with them and worry about the cost later.
We moved up to Canton and I received a call from my old OB's office soon after. My tests had come back and it appeared as though I had a protein-S deficiency. The nurse I spoke to advised me to find an OB up there as soon as possible to get it checked out. I was feeling frantic at that point. I had no idea where to even start looking for a doctor. I researched a lot online and finally settled on the practice that was closest to my house since I knew it would be easy to find. I told myself that if I hated them, I could always switch later on.
It turns out that the practice I chose was a great fit for me. They were very open to my wanting to try for a VBAC this time and I only got weird vibes from a nurse once or twice during my whole pregnancy. On May 15 we found out we were having a boy! They also changed my due date to October 5 given my measurements.
I was referred to a perinatal specialist twice in regards to the deficiency. They concluded that those tests probably shouldn't have been done when I was already pregnant since that can interfere with the results. The specialist also said if I did have a deficiency, it didn't appear to be doing any harm to this pregnancy. I was advised to take a baby aspirin every day to be on the safe side since the deficiency could cause blood clots, but for the most part I was in the clear. And the upside to these appointments was getting additional ultrasounds done with better equipment. I even saw my baby's face at 32 weeks!
In the meantime, I was getting nervous about childbirth. I knew I didn't want another c-section if I could help it, but the thought of a vaginal delivery also scared me. Then in late June I had a dream. It was just a snapshot in my mind. I was sitting up in a hospital bed, wearing the black delivery gown I had just ordered off the internet a couple of days before, and was holding our baby boy and smiling. The caption on the photo gave me his name, Micah Jonathan, and the dream made it clear that I had just had a successful VBAC. I woke up feeling peaceful. Somehow this was going to work.
The rest of my pregnancy seemed to go by quickly. I got bigger by the week, exceeding the recommended 35-pound weight gain but still staying well under the weight I had reached when carrying Caleb. I was also pleased to see that I didn't get any new stretch marks with this pregnancy, and the ones I had developed with my other pregnancy didn't even pop back out! When I was around 36 weeks, we drove back down to Albany for a weekend visit and some dear friends threw a diaper shower for me. It was wonderful seeing everyone again, especially since I had yet to make any close friends in Canton and felt lonely some of the time.
Caleb spent a week at my in-law's in Florida after that visit. I took advantage of the time alone and made Micah a baby quilt (I had already made him some flannel burpcloths, some appliqued onesies, a bedskirt for his crib, and a cover for his dresser top). I also made some artwork for his walls out of scrapbook paper and letter stickers. My in-laws had given us money to buy a changing table which also came in that week. His room was really coming together and I was getting very excited!
At 37 weeks, we took a tour of the local hospital. It's a small one (only 85 beds), but I got a very good feeling about giving birth there. It just seemed more personal and homey. I prayed that no matter how this birth turned out, it would be a healing experience for me, and I truly believed God would make it that way.
At my 39-week appointment (I was technically at 39 weeks and 4 days), I was dilated to 1 centimeter but my cervix was still very hard. The doctor was comfortable waiting another week, knowing I wanted to try for a VBAC, but also told me if I went any longer than that we'd have to schedule a c-section soon after. He also reminded me that since I had had a c-section before, they weren't comfortable with giving me pitocin to induce labor, so I'd have to go into labor on my own in order to attempt a vaginal birth. When I went to make an appointment, the next day available was the following Thursday, so I had just given myself 8 days to go into labor on my own.
My parents had already been up for a week to help out with meals and to be there for Caleb when I went into labor. So at this point it was a waiting game. I prayed that something would happen before the "deadline" of October 10.
39 weeks and counting...
On Friday, October 4, I began losing the mucus plug. It was almost a relief for me, since I had been feeling crampy for a couple of days but wasn't progressing any further than that. I was also thrilled that my water hadn't broken early like it did with Caleb. I continued to feel crampy all through the next day, my technical due date. My mom and I drove down to the mall to walk in hopes that something would happen later on. But it looked like Micah was going to be fashionably late!
On Sunday, I began having little "practice" contractions at 3:30 in the morning. This was all new territory to me, having had such an odd labor with Caleb, but I knew these weren't the real thing. They were irregular and I could easily walk and talk through them. I was still encouraged that something was happening. In the afternoon, the contractions stopped altogether. Randall and I went for a walk in the neighborhood, then I climbed up and down the stairs inside for awhile. I finally had to stop; I was so out of breath I went to our bedroom to rest. I ended up crying so much that it turned into a panic attack. I couldn't catch my breath and I was scared because I didn't know what my body was doing. Randall managed to calm me down; at that point I laid down on our bed for awhile and listened to our iPod that I had already preloaded with worship music. My parents took Caleb back to their RV so we could concentrate on the baby and each other for a bit. That night I sat on my exercise ball while we watched a funny movie. The tiny "practice" contractions came and went; I had given up on trying to track them since they were irregular, plus it was tough to tell when one started and stopped. Still, we went to bed prepared with the hospital bag packed and the infant car seat in my car.
A few hours later, I woke up with the REAL contractions (again, at 3:30 in the morning. What is it about 3:30 in the morning???). They would start in the back and then build up to the front. I got up and went to the living room to sit on my exercise ball again. I watched the clock and mentally counted the seconds when each contraction started. I wanted to make sure it was the real thing before I bothered waking up Randall. He woke up soon after anyway and came out to help me time them. After a few contractions, we figured out they were around four or five minutes apart already, lasting around 40 seconds each. I got up and took a shower, then Randall did the same. We took our time, knowing we weren't in a huge rush to get to the hospital since my greatest fear was getting there too early and then facing all of the possible interventions if I didn't progress fast enough. When they got to be 3 minutes apart, we decided to go to the hospital and see what they said.
The hospital is literally a three-minute drive from our house, so we got there around 7 a.m. We didn't realize it till we got there, but 7 a.m. was when everyone changed shifts, so it took several minutes after checking in for anyone to come down to get us. Just being in the hospital again made me nervous (even though I had given birth to Caleb in a different hospital). There were a few tears on my part, but Randall told me "This isn't going to be like last time." That became kind of a mantra that he would repeatedly tell me whenever he could tell that the worry was building back up.
A nurse came down with a wheelchair for me, and let me just say, she was about the flakiest nurse I've ever come across. She literally almost ran the wheelchair (with me in it) into a wall two or three times by the time we got up to the labor and delivery floor. She had the kind of ditzy, overly cheerful demeanor that made her really hard to talk to, especially given the fact that I wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone once a contraction would hit. Luckily once she got me settled in a bed in the triage room, she left and a better nurse came in to get my vitals and to monitor the baby. We think she was supposed to have Randall leave the room for some of her questions (like she asked me right in front of him if there was abuse at home), but I'm glad she didn't since I was nervous and just trying to relax, and being alone in that room would have made things so much harder. We hadn't seen the doctor on duty yet, but after seeing my vitals and hearing about my progress, he told the nurse to bring me breakfast and then have us walk the halls until he got out of surgery.
Or rather, the HALL. I mentioned earlier this hospital was small, so we literally walked up and down the same hall for awhile. I had to stop and lean against the wall whenever a contraction hit too. After awhile we went back to the triage room so I could rest. That was when the doctor on duty came in. He was the lead doctor at the OB practice I had been going to all along, but I had never met him since they have multiple offices and my appointments always seemed to fall on days when he wasn't at the Canton one. But I knew who he was before he introduced himself. Let's call him Dr. L.
Quick flashback...a week or so earlier, I had come across someone who, whether they meant to or not, had a very negative opinion about certain aspects of childbirth. She was also pregnant but declared that she was having her baby at home with a midwife. She asked me when I was due and where I was having the baby. She then proceeded to tell me horrible stories of people she knew who gave birth in hospitals. She mentioned Dr. L by name, saying he was terrible and only concerned with getting your baby out as quickly as possible so he could get to his golf game. Fortunately by then I already had such a peace that I was where God wanted me, my biggest problem with her was trying not to laugh at how ridiculous she was being. I was also disappointed that she couldn't find one encouraging thing to say to me. I realized that hospital birth isn't for everyone, but it was the choice I had made and I didn't understand why she was trying to change my mind when I was so late in the game!
Anyway, I had joked with Randall that it would be worth it to have a successful VBAC with Dr. L in the hospital just to prove that lady wrong. And there was Dr. L, on call at the hospital, on the very day I went into labor! Turns out he's a great obstetrician; he has a somewhat serious bedside manner but you can tell he knows what he's doing and that he cares about his patients. He listened to me and my story of how Caleb was born, and also took my desires seriously. I think he appreciated that while we knew exactly what we wanted out of this birth, we were also flexible and not putting him in a box by giving him any ultimatums. For example, I told him I'd rather not get an epidural since they freak me out, but I would be willing to consider it if the circumstances changed. After talking to Randall and me for a good ten minutes, he asked us how far away we lived from the hospital. When he found out how close we were, he told us we could go home for awhile and labor there, since while my contractions were close together, I was only dilated at 3 cm. He said I had a better chance of getting a VBAC and avoiding an epidural if I waited to be admitted to a labor room until I was further along. I was thrilled with the idea of going home. I had already realized that we had gotten to the hospital too early and was so relieved that Dr. L was willing to let me go back home for a bit.
The nurse who accompanied Dr. L into the room was very nice as well. She gave us some paperwork to sign to get it out of the way, and also commented that she was almost surprised that Dr. L was letting us go home. I knew that once again, God had gone before us and we were still on our way to that healing birth.
We drove back home and I took another shower (even though we were only at the hospital for a few hours, I could smell it on me!). I ate small snacks throughout the day while we watched movies. Right when we got home, my contractions got more intense, especially around my back. I was thinking, so THIS is the back labor all those women complain about! I tried walking around but that seemed to make it worse so I ended up sitting up on the couch for most of the afternoon.
Finally around 6:30 or 7:00 that evening, Randall could tell that I was getting more frantic with the pain and that it was time to go back to the hospital. This time we got right into a delivery room. The nurse on duty, Beth, was amazing. She had no problem letting me wear the delivery gown I had brought with me, and once she knew that I wanted a VBAC she was so encouraging about it.
Dr. L came in (hmmm, guess he must have stuck around because he didn't have a golf game that day, haha!) and checked me. I was only at 4 cm after all those contractions! I think I actually swore under my breath because I just couldn't believe it. They then suggested that they break my water to speed things up. I hesitated at first. My water broke early on with Caleb, so I was always a little nervous that it would do the same with this baby too. The fact that my water was still intact was very important to me, almost like it was buying me more labor time if I needed it. But I knew we had to do something, so I agreed. After the job was done and we were left alone, I sat up in bed (the only position where I could still somewhat handle the back labor), listening to my iPod and praying. I had kept a little notebook of Scriptures, quotes, and words of encouragement from friends that I had been reading over and over for the past month, so phrases from this notebook continually came to mind as I labored.
"Inside the will of God, there is nothing I fear." A.W. Tozer
"Your body is NOT broken!" Word of encouragement from a friend
"The joy of the Lord is your strength." Nehemiah 8:10
Randall watched the monitor, so he could tell whenever I had a particularly nasty contraction. I kept my eyes closed but would try to focus on my breathing and relax whenever one hit. He would also help me to the bathroom when I needed it, a trip I dreaded each time because it seemed whenever I stood up and then sat down, another bad contraction would hit and I'd feel like my back was going to snap.
When they checked me again a couple hours later, I was at 6.5 cm. I was encouraged but also getting worried. Did I have what it took to do this labor naturally? Dr. L mentioned an epidural again. He didn't pressure me either way, but said he usually preferred to do VBACs with epidurals. We told him we'd give it another couple of hours and then talk about it again. Beth brought me a heating pad for my back, which helped some. At one point, she came in and asked me to lay on my side for a few contractions since they were having trouble picking up the baby's heartbeat when I sat up. I obeyed and when the next contraction hit, I about went crazy. Something about laying on my side made the pain SO much worse. I gripped the rail on the side of the bed and tried not to scream out loud. After two contractions laying like this, I finally told Randall I couldn't labor this way so he helped me sit up again. No one came in to yell at us, so I figured by then that they had a good reading of the baby's heartbeat so all was well. Midnight came and went, and I came to the realization that no matter what happened, our baby would be born sometime that day, October 8, which also happens to be my mom's birthday.
A couple of hours later, I was really running out of steam and truly felt like I was losing my mind. I had been awake and in labor for twenty-four hours and was feeling the exhaustion. I would literally doze off sitting up between contractions, only waking up when another one would hit (and let me say, that's just about the worst way to wake up!). I tried to be thankful that I was further along than I ever got with Caleb, but all I could think was, "How in the WORLD is this going to be a healing birth for me?? This is terrible!"
Beth came in to check me again, and I was still at 6.5 cm. She told me she didn't want to pressure me, but an epidural might help me out since my body would dilate better if it was more relaxed. I had told her earlier that I wasn't trying to be a hero with this no-epidural thing; I really just had a phobia of them and the thought of getting one freaked me out almost as much as the thought of having a baby naturally. She could see the fear in my eyes and went to talk to Dr. L (yep, he was still there!). He told her to insert an internal monitor so they could see how productive my contractions were, and also to start a small Pitocin drip.
Pitocin?! The very substance I was told I couldn't have because I had a previous c-section? She explained that in this case, it was considered safe since they were using a small amount, I was already in active labor, and the doctor was on the floor in case of an emergency. I agreed to it, knowing that they were doing all they could for me to respect my wishes. But I knew how Pitocin could speed things up and make the pain even more intense, and I wasn't sure I handle that on my own. Randall was also concerned about it; he told me the decision was still mine to make and that he would support me no matter what, but I could tell he was thinking that the epidural was starting to look like a good idea.
I hadn't been on the Pitocin for long when Beth came back in and said, "Do you want my professional opinion?" I didn't even hesitate before I said "YES!" I knew she had held back for awhile out of respect for me, but at this point I was desperate for a medical opinion on what I should do. She advised me to get the epidural. She assured me I'd still feel pressure and know when to push when the time came; the epidural would simply ease the pain, help me sleep for a couple hours, and allow my body to dilate better. I tearfully agreed and immediately started shaking all over. I told you I had a phobia!
The anesthesiologist came in and started prepping me. I'm not kidding, the ENTIRE time beforehand, I was shaking. I asked Randall if I made the right decision, and he said, absolutely. He knew I was exhausted and that having the epidural would most likely help prevent a c-section later on. He repeated once again, "This isn't going to be like last time." So I made a real effort to stop being a wimp and quit shaking long enough for the guy to administer the stupid thing. And it was horrible. Especially when a nasty contraction hit right in the middle of the procedure and at least three different people simultaneously told me to "stay still." I think if I wasn't in so much pain right then I would have laughed...."stay still?" Are you kidding me??
Anyway, after that chore was done, I felt even more exhausted, and started shaking again (this time from the epidural). Beth helped me get situated on my side and told me I'd feel the contractions less and less until the all I'd feel was pressure. She also brought in pillows and blankets to set Randall up on the pull-out couch in the room. She checked a few more things, turned out the lights, and ordered us to sleep for a couple hours.
I was certain I wouldn't sleep. How could I with all that was going on?? What if after all this labor, after all the months of praying, I still had to get a c-section? The Lord calmed my heart and told me He had this and that I could go to sleep. I meditated on a verse from the book of Micah (the very name we were going to give this child) until I drifted off.
"As in the days when you came out of the land of Egypt, I will show you miracles." Micah 7:15
I awoke sometime later. I couldn't see a clock in the room but knew the two hours weren't up yet. I had an indescribable peace that didn't really make sense considering I wasn't any closer to having answers than I was when I went to sleep. I remembered that verse from Micah and realized God was preparing my heart for a miracle. I did feel an enormous amount of pressure every 90 seconds or so, and it was lower down, so I prayed that that was a good sign.
Dr. L came in (yep, he was STILL THERE!) and checked me. He always has a very serious countenance so it's hard to tell what's going on till he actually tells you. He looked me in the eye and said, "You're at 10 cm and ready to push. You WILL have this baby vaginally in the next hour." Beth and some other nurses immediately began making preparations for delivery and I was just laying there, trying to let what I had just been told sink in. Randall stood by kind of helplessly, waiting for instructions on where he needed to be and what he should do.
After that any small delay seemed to be torture for me. First they couldn't get one of the stirrups to stay up so they had to go get another one and attach it to the foot of the bed. Then a nurse would randomly come in the room to ask a question about another patient on the floor. I wanted to say, "Are THEY having their baby right now? Can't they wait???" Finally, they had me set up to deliver and then it was just a matter of waiting till a contraction hit. I pushed for a few contractions and Beth said she could see the top of his head! She asked me if I wanted a mirror. I said no (the thought of seeing myself from that angle, even if it means also seeing the baby's head, has never appealed to me). She ignored me and went for the mirror anyway, and it ended up helping me push through the next few contractions. It was crazy seeing the top of Micah's head. I tried to ignore the rest of the reflection I saw in the mirror (because really, it's just gross) and focus on how the baby moved whenever I pushed.
Dr. L came back in and could tell that while I was making progress, they were having trouble getting the baby's head out. It seemed I was rather tight, so he said, "I think it's best to give you an episiotomy. Then the baby will be born really quickly and I'll stitch you up right after." Normally the thought of such a procedure would be enough for me to freak out, but hey, I had already been in labor for 27 hours and had also handled an epidural like a rock star (well, relatively speaking). An episiotomy? Bring it on! I gasped out, "That's fine, just do it" since I was recalling birth stories I'd read where some women had pushed for hours and I didn't want that. I wanted to see my baby NOW, even if it meant another procedure.
He did the procedure quickly and I was told that Micah's head came through during the next round of pushes. By then they had taken the mirror away since obviously I didn't want to see the reflection after being cut. Dr. L told me in his serious way, "Your baby will be born during your next contraction." I was overjoyed...the moment was coming! It seemed like an eternity waiting for that next contraction. Even though I was still mostly numb from the epidural, I felt enormous amounts of pressure and I just wanted some relief. As soon as I felt the very beginning of a contraction (it wasn't even showing up on the monitor yet), I was like, "Um, I feel a contraction, I'm going for it" and they said to go ahead.
A couple of pushes later, Micah Jonathan Ivey came into this world. They immediately placed him on my chest and started wiping him off. The only thing I could say at first was "Hi Micah! I'm SO glad you're here!" Randall said later he thought it was about the cutest thing I'd ever said. But it was true. I had gotten my VBAC, and my baby was healthy and finally with me.
Since the hospital was small, they did all the initial testing with Micah right in the room with us. Dr. L stitched me up while Randall took pictures of Micah, called out his weight to me (8 lbs, 5 oz), and updated anxious family members who had been on alert for over a day by now. He had already told me he had had a dream a few days earlier about Micah being born and had seen his face; he told me that Micah looked just like he did in the dream.
Beth commented that she was so happy Micah came right before the shift change so she could be there for his birth. That meant something to me; she had been so invested in both caring for me and for my desires for this birth, and it was great that she was able to see this to the end. Dr. L also said he was glad to be there; we weren't sure what time he had started being on call at the hospital the day before, but he had obviously been there for over 24 hours by then so that meant a lot to us. I never felt rushed into any decisions, and only felt respect and cooperation from him and everyone else who worked with us.
So I got my VBAC! It hasn't been easy since then; turns out healing from a vaginal birth plus an episiotomy takes a lot of time and a lot of pain meds. But it's still been way easier recovering from this birth than it was from my c-section with Caleb. Micah's birth was the most difficult, most empowering, and most healing experience I've ever had, and I'm so thankful for an awesome and understanding OB practice and hospital staff who helped me achieve that goal.
This photo was taken within the first hour of Micah's life. It's my favorite one since it captures an opportunity I never got with Caleb's birth...being able to hold my child so soon after he was born (not to mention, I was sitting up AND smiling! That's impossible after a c-section, I don't care who you are). It's also the same picture I saw in my dream back when God gave me his name and the assurance that He would carry me through.
Micah Jonathan Ivey
Born October 8, 2013 at 6:31 a.m.
8 pounds, 5 ounces
22 inches long
:)
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