Hazel Jane's Birth Story

Walking into the hospital at 41 weeks 1 day pregnant

We headed to the hospital at 7am on Friday, July 6. I was one week and one day past my due date. My doctor had told us to come in and ask for a “labor check” so that I would be examined for any progress. We quickly learned there were still no changes and my doctor presented us with three options:

1)    Go home and hope labor starts on its own, and come back Monday and repeat

2)    Schedule a C-section for later that day

3)    Break my waters (which she was against because of lack of progress)

I was disappointed and discouraged. Michael and I had decided beforehand that if these were our options we’d wait. The idea of going home and waiting through the weekend for nothing to happen again was disheartening, but we’d made our choice: we’d go home and wait out the weekend.

This is where I think the prayers for clarity came through: Michael thought to ask a few more clarifying questions and our doctor mentioned one other option: a Foley catheter. It has a balloon-like end that is inserted and filled with saline solution. The hope is that it puts pressure on the cervix to help dilate and kick-start contractions and labor.

Our doctor had used it several times with success. We liked that it was a form of induction that if unsuccessful, we could change our minds and still head home. We felt like it was a good compromise because it was a very gentle form of induction without using drugs or more invasive physical force.

By this time in my pregnancy I had a sense that my body wasn’t going to go into labor on its own, or at least, not before we passed the time my doctor would feel comfortable doing a VBAC. I was beginning to think I inherited my mom’s pregnancy genes, who carried babies several weeks past each due date. With Ellie, it took very little induction to get my labor going, so I was hoping that a small “help” would push things along.

Checked in and waiting for labor to start

We were admitted to the hospital, the Foley bulb was inserted, and we waited. We were told it could take 6-12 hours to do anything, but it fell out after 3 hours. I had progressed to a 3! This was exciting news because I never got past a 4 with Ellie throughout my entire labor. A 3 sounded like a great start!

After walking around for an hour or two, we made the “no turning back” decision to break my waters at 3:30pm. This meant that we were committed and wouldn’t be leaving the hospital without a baby in our arms. Once the waters were broken, we had a limited amount of time to get labor to happen before a C-section would be necessary.

We spent the late afternoon and evening walking and waiting. I was able to unhook from the monitors and walk for 40 minutes and then be monitored for 20, intermittently. This was a change from my last pregnancy where I was never allowed to be unmonitored. As we walked, the contractions steadily increased in intensity, coming every few minutes.

By 8 or 9:00pm the contractions had really hit and were painful and close together. I was working on breathing through each one, hoping I was progressing. At midnight I was dilated to a 5 and shortly after I started considering narcotics.

Having labored for 14 hours with Ellie and never getting past a 4, I had a good idea of my pain tolerance levels going into this labor experience. I had reached it. I needed some help if I was going to make it because a 5 was great given my history, but not nearly close enough to a 10. At the rate of 1cm every 2-3 hours, I knew I needed something to help take the edge off so I could try to relax and rest between contractions.

I was given a round of phenerol and was told I could get a new dose every hour. It immediately seemed to help lessen the severe intensity of the contractions, and I could rest for a few minutes between. Unfortunately, the effects of the narcotics only lasted 20-30 minutes, not 60. Also, there was some slight concern that baby’s heart rate was a bit lower during contractions, but nothing serious.

At around 3am, right before I was going to get a third round of phenerol, they checked my progress. I had only progressed 1 cm to a 5 after several hours. I was majorly struggling. The contractions were extremely intense and coming every 2-3 minutes. I was not able to relax between contractions and baby’s heart rate was still dipping with contractions. (This was déjà vu of my experience with Ellie). I was frustrated to only be at a 5 and the phenerol seemed to have lost its edge. I was physically done and knew that I was still a long way from being fully dilated. Plus, as the nurse reminded me, I still needed to have some energy and physical stamina to push, if I ever got to that.

I asked for an epidural. It was about 3:30am. The baby’s heart rate quickly recovered when I was able to relax. Michael and I even got to rest for almost two hours. I was able to sleep because the epidural was strong enough that I just felt some pressure, but not a lot of pain. I don’t regret getting the epidural and having a chance to rest and relax, which definitely seemed to help the baby. Unlike the epidural I received with Ellie where I couldn’t feel my legs for hours afterwards, this epidural was done perfectly: I could feel pressure but not intense pain and I could still feel my legs and was able to be active and aware during my entire labor. 

By 5:30 am the pressure had increased and although I couldn’t feel the intense pain of the contractions I had an irresistible urge to push with every contraction, something that was surprisingly painful, took a lot of concerted effort NOT to do, and wasn’t relieved by my epidural. I was checked and had progressed to a 6. My cervix was a bit swollen which possibly meant that the baby’s head was too big. My doctor informed me we had reached the point where I needed to progress at least 1 cm every hour or I would have to have a c-section.

I was at a 6. I had been progressing slowly, every few hours. The hope of even getting to a 7 within an hour seemed improbable. The urge to push was getting so strong and because I wasn’t ready to push this was another sign that a c-section was going to be likely. I prepared myself mentally for a c-section. The baby’s heart rate was dropping again and so was mine. I was given an oxygen mask. I could tell my doctor was also assuming a c-section would be happening in the next hour or so. My nurse, on the other hand, decided to prepare the room for a delivery. She was optimistic and wanted us to be ready. After preparing the room she decided to check me again, less than an hour after my “one-hour” ultimatum was given.

I heard the words “there’s no cervix” and “we’re ready,” and I was confused. We’re ready for a c-section? The doctor walked in and the nurse told her I was fully dilated and ready to start pushing. I was so surprised I burst into tears! I had progressed from a 6 to a 10 in about 40 minutes?!? I was going to start pushing? No C-section?!

At about 6:35 I started pushing. I remember that it was such a relief to be able to push after an hour or two of using every ounce of strength NOT to push. As the pushing progressed there was talk of the baby possibly being stuck, but somehow we got past that. I pushed until a little after 8 when I wasn’t sure if I could push anymore. The baby was close and suddenly I heard the doctor ask me if it was OK to do an episiotomy. I didn’t really answer since I had an oxygen mask over my face but remember panicking for a second, mostly afraid of the pain (but I was numbed, of course), and within a few short moments I had one final push (I literally told myself this had to be the last one, I was physically done), and out came our precious baby at 8:13am.

They quickly wiped her down and put her right on my chest. I was so in awe that we had done it, we had had a successful VBAC and my baby was cradled in my arms after about an hour and 40 minutes of pushing. (Later I was told average pushing time in my situation was about three hours).

We had been in the hospital for over 24 hours, laboring physically, and mentally making all kinds of exhausting decisions along the way. Several times throughout the process I literally had said the words, “I can’t do this,” and “I’m not going to make it,” (usually uttered during or after an intense contraction) and here I was holding my precious baby. I looked at her, her cord not even cut yet, so grateful and full of love for this little bundle, and immediately said out loud to my doctor who was still stitching me up, and to all the nurses and my doula and my husband and my mom who had all been in the room as I pushed:

“I could totally do that all over again.”

Though everyone laughed, my doctor shook her head and said, “let’s take some time to recover from this one!” Speaking of my doctor, I am more than blessed. She was amazingly supportive throughout my entire pregnancy. VBACs are not done by many doctors, and she knew how important this was to me. She had been scheduled to leave the hospital at 7pm the night before, and stayed on all night long to see my delivery through, over 14 hours past her scheduled shift. Talk about a committed doctor going above and beyond the call of duty! Our night nurse, who also works in our doctor’s office doing billing, was also super supportive, optimistic, and just a wonderful nurse.

We are so thankful Hazel Jane is here, happy and healthy. She is nursing great and is very mellow. She mostly only cries when she is hungry or ready to be swaddled. Ellie is continuing to adjust to having a little sister around. She gives her lots of kisses and pats her, although we are noticing that she is needing a bit more attention lately and is crying a lot more often. But we are all doing well.

Hazel Jane Chapman

July 7, 2012

8:13 am

8lbs 6 oz, 20 in.

I am so thankful I was able to experience a VBAC. There were so many times when I doubted myself and my body’s ability to cooperate. In an ideal world, I would have gone into labor on my own, but I was fighting against the clock because of my history with a c-section. I am thankful we had a doctor who was willing to try everything, even something not used often, like the Foley bulb, and allowing me every last opportunity to make this birth experience what we were hoping for. In the end, we just wanted a healthy baby, which we have. I’m just extra blessed to have had her how I wanted.

And now begins adventures of a family of four.