The Perfect Birth...

My idea of a perfect birth was something derived from years of movies and TV shows, and refined with my recent connections to the "crunchy" world. The definition of crunchy, for those unfamiliar, are pretty much modern day hippies (minus all the pot, well maybe some pot, I don't know). They believe in all natural, save the planet everything. I was not raised this way, but some of the ideas intrigue me. I consider myself more on the "chewy" side if we need to label things. I cloth diaper, baby wear, stroller push, breast feed, formula supplement, and organic baby food. I haven't converted my personal life to full on organic, but hey I'm working on myself bit by bit. All of this in mind gave me a vision of what birth should be, a sort of perfection. I imagined one evening my water would break and we would make that glorious and crazy hospital drive where Austin could legally speed. I had no delusions about skipping drugs all together (chewy remember), but I thought to myself "let's see what I can do". As my pregnancy furthered along all I heard from my doctor was "baby is kind of big, there could be a possible C-section". Ummmmm no! No, I thought, no way. My body was created to do this. I will not be having a C-section. I will get to experience the birth I have created in my mind.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Should you have some sort of birth plan. Yes.
Should you plan it down to the very last detail. If your OCD truly compels you.
Should you place all your hopes and dreams on it coming to pass perfectly. NO!

I'm not saying it won't come to pass, but do not leave yourself the delusion that the curve ball won't be thrown. And here's my story:

Friday, May 8
Part one of my dreams being torn away....being induced!
That day was glorious. Austin and I spent the afternoon getting an awesome meal at one of my favorite restaurants, HuHot, I got my hair washed and straightened by my awesomeness of a hairdresser Natasha, and we enjoyed being just Austin & Meagan for the last time. We naively approached the hospital all smiles and selfies taken. I was only a bit nervous at that point due to the soon coming IV. We check in and I'm taken back to my room as Austin returns to the car to get all the junk I didn't need to pack... Oh yes, I am now qualified to make a list of "junk you don't need at the hospital", but that's another post. I enter the room and they leave me with that lovely green number that feels like scratchy paper and leaves your full butt for the world's view. This I will never understand. Why can't you just get something that can cover the butt. Come on hospitals!!

I get in bed in this glorious attire and in come the nurses. They discuss several options for my IV, none of them appealing, and go with the left hand. I don't know why they would put it anywhere else honestly. It hurt. I hate IVs, and this was only the second I've ever had. After that they came in put all the monitors on me and gave me my first round of induction meds. Cervadil, aka hole-ey looking tape. That evening was still all laughter and naivety. My cousin visited, we played games, and I waited.

And waited.

Terrible night of sleep and waiting. There were only three positions I could lay in that didn't throw Jude's heart rate in a loop, and none of those were comfortable. The constant checks were never fun, but I had a great nurse at this point.

Saturday, May 9
The day was long, and the waiting was terrible. I was past the cervadil and on to some other C medication. 4 rounds of that brought my dilation to a 5. I was thinking yes! Half way there, it should be moving quickly any time now. Any time now...
Shift change......New nurse time. In walks the amazon woman nurse. Good lord help me. Before she checked me I asked in my trembling voice "please just go really slow, it hur.....gahhhhh" Everything that woman did was rambo.
I had another uncomfortable evening and contractions starting to pick up. At this point they felt like bad cramps.

Sunday, May 10
My doctor was pleased with being dilated at a 5. At this point I thought "this isn't bad really, I'm going to see if I can just skip the epidural." It was time to break my water. Um, ow, like really ow. I thought I was going to die. What in the actual heck was going on! I didn't see the instruments used, so I assumed they were using a finger as they did with all my checks. Apparently the instruments looked like crochet needles and Austin almost passed out. After they broke my water, which after the pain was one of the weirdest "I think I just peed my pants" experience, the contractions doubled in intensity. At that point they had the Pitosin flowing. Oh my gosh whoa. I said I could use a little pain medication. They put something in my IV. That something made me loopy as can be, but did nothing agains the pain. I was at a solid 8 pain factor. I knew this was not going to fly in any world. Epidural NOW! 30 min later they rolled up with the goodies. Austin told his pass out story and they made him leave the room.

Now it was just me, the good nurse from Friday, and the anesthesiologist. It took forever to get positioned right, but once i did he numbed me (which was painless), fed the line for the meds in (which was really weird, but again painless), and made the worries of the world disappear. This man named Jan (seriously that was his name) was glorious at his craft. I laid back down in my once uncomfortable position and actually got a good nap in. Eventually my contractions started to be more than the epidural could take on. Lucky me. I dilated to a 9, but Jude wasn't dropping and was at a weird angle. Things started to move so quickly at this point. His heart rate was dangerously dropping, and I was beginning to run a fever. My doctor looked at me and said "I don't think this is going to work for you, we most likely going to need a C-section". She gave me the option of trying, but let me know that I could end up pushing for a couple of hours and still end up with the possibility of the C. My whole world crashed in, and a fear that I cannot describe fully completely took over. The closest I can come is that feeling you got when you were a kid and finally worked up the courage to go down the BIG slide, got to the top, and decided that you weren't ready, you were actually terrified, but there was an awful bully that was going to make you go down. That times like a million. I was bawling my eyes out while they were transferring me into another bed and running more drugs through my system.

They wheeled me down a hallway looking like some sort of mess you see on those ER shows. Everything was so overwhelming. I got into the room, and had to wait for all the prep to be done before they would let Austin back in. A new anesthesiologist was to my left making sure I had everything going. I couldn't feel anything below my neck. This was ultra weird, but I was in too much distress at the moment to realize. Austin entered the room, and sat in a chair next to me on the right. It was time....

"Meagan we are going to test a couple of things and I need to know if you feel anything." "Ok", I thought. I felt nothing, literally nothing. "Alright then, we're ready to go."

At that moment I was literally so afraid, that I gave up. I gave up on life period. I thought to myself, "this is it, I am going to die, I'm not going to make it". Minutes passed, I felt nothing. Nurses and my doctor chatted like they were out to lunch. One actually said "oh I forgot to turn on the radio". The radio?!? Are you kidding lady, you focus! No, no radio, is what I thought. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, but was only a short while, my perfect bundle of awesome was brought into this world. I had never seen something so perfect. Austin said he had a little bit of a cone head, but I didn't see it. Love, love is all I had. They laid him on my chest and held him there because I couldn't use my arms, then took him back to do all the stuff that they do.

There's a lot more, but I'll just end that bit right there.

I still struggle sometimes with how things came about. Sometimes I feel less of a woman because my body didn't do what it was supposed to. My woman space is smaller and would have a difficult time having a bigger baby I am told. Parts of me really want to be able to do it "the right way" (which is nonsense, the right way is having a healthy baby period) I am working through it though. Someday I believe I will be at perfect peace about this. Until then I thank God for the small things, and also for the greatest thing, my perfect, happy, and healthy little Jude.

All of my future babies will most likely be scheduled C-sections, which will be much less traumatic than the induction/emergency kind. I think I am ok with this, or at least I will be. (Still working on that perfect peace) Please support me in this decision and any decision I make whether you agree or not. If you do not agree, God bless you, but please don't preach the VBAC to me after reading this. If you have before, we're cool no worries. I just don't want to hear how my body "could" do it because it didn't the first time, and I don't want to go through the same experience twice. So repeat C's for me it is.

I tell this story because some women do have that lovely perfect sitting in a field of daisies, gave birth in a pool of angel tears, and sunshine was the only drug used experience, but my experience was quite messy, and if you ever find yourself in the same boat shoot me a message and we'll chat. I'd love to let you know that no matter how it happened perfect or not, that what happened was one of the most amazing things that could happen in your life. Snuggle that perfect ball of amazing because you earned it mamas!

-Meagan