Better things to focus on: The birth of Charles

Written by: Jessica February 20 2012 My September 6th due date came and went, so at my doctor apppointment that week my doctor informed me that she would let it go another week and then […]

Written by: Jessica

My September 6th due date came and went, so at my doctor apppointment that week my doctor informed me that she would let it go another week and then I would be induced. I went in for one last appointment two days prior to the induction date and was surprised to see upon being hooked up to the fetal monitor that I was having contractions. (I thought the slight discomfort was just the baby moving/stretching!) I was at 2 cm and the doctor was thrilled, saying she'd see me in the hospital the next day to deliver the baby. But the contractions never got closer than 8 minutes apart.

On Wednesday I called the labor and delivery department and they said to come in that evening to be prepped for the induction. We went in and before I knew it they were inserting a Foley balloon. I have to say, hands down, that it was the most painful thing I'd ever had done to me—and when I asked how painful it was going to be, a young-ish attending doctor said it would not be more painful than an annual exam. So wrong. It was awful, and I seriously considered running out of the hospital. They gave me 20 minutes to calm down before the next attempt and if it was not for a very nice nurse in the unit who calmed me down I never could have let them do it. Once the balloon was in, very strong contractions started but then petered out.

I slept in a maternity ward room that night and was brought back to L&D the next morning at 9 a.m. to start the Pitocin. (The balloon only took me up to 3 cm, so it was a total waste anyway.) The doctor checked on me every 2 hours and things were moving along well—I was up to 4 cm. They broke my water in the afternoon and the contractions didn't get too painful for a few hours. I did my Lamaze breathing, but it was hard with my family in the room watching. I knew my dad was having a hard time watching me in pain. The hospital offered Reiki and aromatherapy, so I took advantage of that but the pain eventually did get too strong so I took the epidural.

I'd heard from the nurses that I was one of three girls being induced that day and so when the doctor came in at 6 pm I asked her if the other girls had delivered their babies yet. She sighed and said, “It's not a race.” I knew then that they must have delivered and things weren't moving along as well for me as I thought they were. She turned up the Pitocin and that made the baby's heart rate drop, so at around 8 pm I was told that I was going to have to have a Caesarean delivery because there was really no progression. I was brought in the operating room at 8:40 p.m. Our baby boy (what a shock—I totally thought it was a girl!) was born on Thursday, September 15th at 8:55 p.m., weighing 7 lbs, 12 oz, and he was 20.5 inches long.

After the birth I was in the recovery room with only use of my arms (not allowed to hold baby just yet), so I was responding to texts and checking Facebook on my phone. And there it was. My name, tagged by an aunt who must have called my mother while I was in the operating room. Her status read: “Jessica is in labor, there's COMPLICATIONS … a Caesarean, please pray!” There were no complications other than the fact it had to be done, but do all 350 of my friends need to know this? Does ANYONE? Yeah, just what I needed, dozens of concerned phone calls, posts and texts. My mother claims she never said “complications” on the phone … and I believe her, my aunt just wanted the attention, I think. So I'm sitting in recovery reading this very dramatic post that my aunt had no business posting and finally I yelled to my husband, “What the hell is WRONG with people?!?!” Two nurses and a doctor came racing in. I felt stupid, but was crying, it was just the straw that broke the camels back after four days of labor, a painful procedure the night before and the fact that I knew this Caesarean meant I'd have a longer recovery—and I'd been smiling through it all.

I explained to the nurse and doctor what was posted and they instructed my husband to, “Call whoever and get them to take it down, now!” Why I was surprised about it, I don't know because the ONLY other time this same aunt posted on Facebook was when she tagged me and announced that I was pregnant. I can't even remember if I'd told MY JOB yet. We made her take it down then too. That said, I have recently set A LOT of privacy settings. People should respect that it's your news to tell, but they either don't or just get carried away in the moment.

At the end of the day we now had so much better things to focus on; our baby boy was more precious than we could have ever imagined.

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