Pj's Birth Story

   Two and a half years ago we were just meeting Pj for the first time. She made us wait quite a while before making her grand (and dramatic) entrance into this world. In fact she was 13 days overdue! Let me tell you, those were the longest 13 days of our lives!

Pj's newborn photo shoot with Rita Zietsma at only 6 days old!

   Pj was born on September 29th, 2012. She entered the world at a whooping 9lbs 4ounces and 21inches long. She didn't want to leave the comfort of her Momma and she let her disapproval be known - it was a process getting her to join us on the "outside". I went into "easy" labor on Thursday morning. The contractions were not overly painful and I was able to function through them. I had a stress test booked for that morning and my midwife was quite excited to see that I was contracting every 6 minutes. She was fairly certain I would be meeting my baby that afternoon or evening. In order to keep the contractions progressing Mark and I went and bought some groceries and then went home and made sure everything was neat and tidy and ready to meet our little baby. My contractions continued all afternoon but did not get much "harder" so we just stayed put. Thursday evening I had an appointment at the hospital for a check-up and possible induction. We had to be at the hospital at 8pm. I was hooked up to a bunch of machines and then we waited. I wasn't seen by an OB/GYN until about 10pm. She checked me and said that I was about 3 cm dilated and that my contractions were about every 5 minutes and were nice and strong. She decided to not give me anything to induce labor (because I already was in labor) and told me that I would be having my baby in the morning. She sent us home to get our bags and to rest for a bit until "hard" labor started. We were so excited! We went home, I bounced on the exercise ball, and we put the last items in our go-bags. Mark decided to get some sleep and went to bed around midnight. I was unable to sleep because the contractions were getting stronger. I did finally sleep for about 2 hours in total. When I woke up I had a nice long shower which (to my dismay) seemed to slow my contractions down. The midwife had told us that if we didn't end up in the hospital over night we were to be back in the triage at 7am.

Pj's first picture.

   When we got there I was starting to feel a little bit nervous that something was wrong. I had been in labour for 24 hours (albeit the entire 24 hours were not hard labor, but still!). I felt like I was no closer to meeting my baby. The midwife checked me and I was now 3.5 cm dilated and my contractions were still 5 minutes apart. At this time they decided to give me the cervical gel in order to help my labor along. I was also a little annoyed because all the other woman that were in triage at this point were the same woman I was in with the night before. They had all been given drugs or gel to induce labor the night before and now were either about to deliver naturally or via a c-section. I felt a little ripped off that I had been denied an induction and now all the other moms were going to meet their babies while I had to keep waiting. After administering the induction gel I was hooked up to more machines and observed until 11am. At this point was I was only 4 cms dilated. My midwife decided to send me home for a couple of hours and told me to come back in the afternoon. Mark and I headed back to our apartment, only to find a group of men carpeting the hallway to our bathroom. My contractions were very regular (they stopped being consistent and just started being every minute or two minutes or three minutes with varying lengths and varying rest periods) and getting too painful to be able to walk or talk. I bee-lined it for our bedroom and prayed that the men hadn't noticed my discomfort. I walked around my bedroom for a bit and tried to sleep (yah right) because my night of only 2 hours of sleep was catching up to me. At about 2pm we headed back to the hospital praying that things had progressed to the point of being admitted. Once again I was greeted by my midwife at the triage and I was hooked up to the stress machines. I was checked and I was now 4.5cm dilated and my contractions (as I already knew) were verified as being very irregular. My midwife decide to admit me because I wasn't progressing very well and she wanted to "keep an eye on me". Once I was admitted she sent me up and down the hospital hallways hoping to get things progressing and hoping to help my baby drop. We walked for about 2 hours and then I was checked again. This time I was still only 4.5cm dilated! I was getting very discouraged at this point and started thinking that I was going to be pregnant for the rest of my life.

Our first family picture!

   At about 5pm my midwife broke my water - in the hopes that this would move things along. My baby was still sitting quite high up and hadn't dropped yet which is why my midwife thought I wasn't progressing. She hoped that by breaking my water the baby would have to drop. Well, Pj didn't drop. She just stayed nice and snug! I once again was sent on a walk through the hospital. On this particular day the Labor and Delivery ward was quite busy, and it wasn't the nicest place to be walking "in public" while having painful contractions. I got to hear advice from Mom's that have already had their babies: "You are looking so good! Mine were too painful to walk but I hear walking helps", "Drink water that totally helps!" "Mine were bad unless I twirled and hopped three times" (k, that's an exaggeration but seriously - once your on the other side: don't give advice!). Some Moms didn't even try to hide their glee at being done the labor part: "Oh its so worth it!", "Look at my adorable baby! You'll have yours soon!". "So glad I'm done that part". Once again - not helpful! Lol. But I digress.

All of her scrumptious rolls!

   By 7pm I was exhausted. I had been up for 36 hours with only 2 hours of sleep. I made it into my hospital room and told the midwife that I didn't want to face the hallways anymore. She checked me and told me that I was a whooping 5cm dilated. She suggested a warm shower which actually sounded good. So I spent the next two hours in the shower. I was quite thirsty (having not eaten or had anything to drink since the morning) and I asked for something to drink. I was given a tiny little paper cup of water and told not to drink too much of it. I later found out that this was because my midwife was concerned that I would need a c-section and didn't want anything in my system for the surgery. I just thought it was another injustice that was a part of this prolonged torture called labor.

First night at home in her little bassinet. Baby burritos are the cutest!

   At 11pm I was done. I was exhausted and feeling very discouraged. My contractions were very irregular. They were strong but not on a very steady rhythm. Some of my contractions were lasting close to 3 minutes in length! Others were only 20 seconds. The breaks in between could be a merciful 5 minutes or an exhausting 10 seconds. I was finding it very difficult to get into any type of routine because I didn't know what to expect. I was in pain and I was tired so I begged Mark to ask the midwife if there was anything we could do to change the current situation. She checked me and I believe I was only 6.5cm (biggest jump up to that point!). She suggested we put me on an oxytocin drip (true induction) and I requested an epidural. I had hoped for a natural birth (my mom and sister had both been able!) but I was just way too tired to care anymore. By midnight I was all hooked up to the bed with the oxytocin and the anesthesiologist was there to give me my epidural. Mark had not really eaten or drank during the whole day and I guess he was a little dehydrated and light headed because when I got the needle for the epidural, he passed out. All of a sudden all of the nice nurses that were there helping me went swarming to Mark to make sure that he was okay. I have to admit, at that moment, I was a little bit "peeved" (wink, wink). Here I was, entering my third full day of labor, and Mark was getting all the attention for a little fainting episode! Go figure! Lol. Truthfully, I was concerned because I knew that I wouldn't be able to get through the next day without him by my side! So, from then on, I insisted he eat an granola bar every hour (I do what I can!).

   After the epidural was administered Mark went to lay down and catch some sleep. I wish I could say that the epidural worked. It did a bit, but it did not remove the full amount of pain. I still had to focus through each contraction and I was unable to fall asleep. Mark slept for about four or five hours that night - which was a God-send! I was able to doze for about half an hour. By 2am the contractions were quite painful and regular again but I didn't want to wake Mark up so I started humming (moaning) nursery rhymes to get through the pain. I am sure the other people in the ward thought I was going crazy. I didn't care though because I wanted my baby to have something nice to hear to help encourage her to come and join us in the real world. Throughout the night I was checked a couple of times with no real progression so they kept increasing my oxytocin drip. By 7am I was only 7 cm dilated. By this time I was fully in the care of an OB/GYN and my midwife had gone home. At 8am the OB/GYN came and checked me and made me lie on my left side. She decided to give us 1 more hour to have the baby or else I was going to have to go in for a c-section since my water had been broken for over 15 hours and my baby (although still fine) was starting to show signs of distress. Mark was up by this time and stayed by my head praying with me. I was so tired and starting to get very scared. It was Saturday morning and I had been going through this for over 48 hours. I do remember during that hour of prayer that the sun peeked through the clouds and some beautiful pink morning sunshine filled our room. I know that it was from God because I remember thinking how beautiful it was and just knowing that I was going to be meeting my baby at some point that day. At 9am the doctor came in and MIRACULOUSLY I was 10 cm dilated and ready to push! The surgical team was literally at the door ready to take me for a c-section when she checked and said, "No! This baby has finally dropped! We are ready to push!". I have to admit, I was a little shocked and very scared. I actually begged the OB/GYN to reconsider and let me have a c-section! I didn't know if I had enough energy to actually push a baby out after all those hours!

Love little baby feet.

   53 of the hardest minutes of my life later, Pj finally made her grand entrance. During the "pushing process" her heart rate and oxygen rates plummeted. The nurses and the doctor went in to high gear pushing me to get her out. The doctor tried to use the vacuum but that didn't do anything (other than give her a nice cone head!). By the time she was born our room was filled with our OB/GYN, a pediatrician (for Pj as soon as she was born), my midwife (there to help encourage me), three nurses, and a nursing student. It was crowded and very overwhelming. I didn't feel like I was in control of the situation at all and I just remember thinking that everyone was mad at me. Pj had some pretty scary shoulder dystocia and was stuck for quite a while, she also had her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck a couple of times and around her body twice. I am such a "people-pleaser" that I continued to push even after she was born (I didn't realize). The doctor was calling my name telling me to open my eyes and when I finally did I saw my beautiful Pj for the first time. I clearly remember that first look. She was huge! And amazing! My body went through the ringer and I had third degree tears (the OB/GYN actually said (excitedly) that she had never had to stitch this way before!) and I hemorrhaged (but it was controlled quickly).

Love her chubby cheeked goodness!

   After Pj was born I was not allowed to hold her because she had to be checked by the pediatrician (because of her levels, etc.) They had thought I knew I was having a boy (I was pretty convinced she was going to be a boy) so they didn't even check her at first but just wrapped her up and told me that she was a boy. Mark and I were ecstatic! A couple of minutes later a nurse called from the corner of the room, "Um...this is a girl! Is that okay!?". Lol. We were so surprised! And so excited!

From the beginning she had bright and alert eyes!

   Finally after what seemed like hours (but was probably 15 minutes) I got to hold my beautiful Pj for the first time. She was perfect in every way. Believe it or not, after all of that, I right away looked at Mark and said that I could do it all over again. It truly was worth it! (Mark looked a little shell-shocked and I don't think he was quite up for a repeat of the challenge at that moment!).

Snuggles with her proud Grampa!

   My mom came to visit within an hour and held Pj while Mark and I slept (me for the first time in over 50 hours). When I woke up my mom was there but Pj wasn't! Her bloodwork had come back with an indication of infection, so she had been taken to the hospital's NICU. I was heartbroken but I think it was a God-thing! She was in such good hands in the NICU (the nurses loved her because she was sooo much larger than their normal 3lb babies) and I was able to spend the time sleeping and resting. She was in the nursery for 48 hours and we finally were able to go home and start family life on Monday afternoon - 5 days after the whole process started!

   Pj's birth story is one of incredible pain, crippling fear, disappointed expectations, and extreme joy. Until those days I did not know my body could withstand so much. I didn't know how strong I was. I also didn't know what love or joy were. Throughout those three days of labor, God was by my side. During the painful contractions I repeated to myself, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me". And I found out that that was so very true. When I started to lose hope, He was there by my side. When I was fearful during that last hour, He sent me the beautiful sunrise to comfort and encourage me. When I was so exhausted from the ordeal and starting to stress about being a new Mom, He gave me rest by allowing Pj to receive excellent care in the nursery while I took two days to sleep and recover. When my labor became dangerous, He blessed us with medical care that saved the life of my baby and myself. Throughout these tough days I was brought low, control (which I love) was taken away from me and I felt scared. In that moment, God showed me that I can't do this on my own, but that He can. These days were the beginning of some new lessons for me - lessons of parenthood. I think God was saying, "You think labor and delivery are hard? Try being a parent. You need me for both of these things. And don't worry. I have got you and your child in my hands. Trust me. I will strengthen you for theses tasks". I have learned that He is true. He is good. He does have us in His hands.
 

Peyton now - or actually about four months ago. But I love this picture :). 

   Sorry for the very long post! Thanks for sharing in my story! Well, actually in Pj's story! I would love to hear other's birth stories - please post a link! :)