God Laughs; Lily's Birth Story

Disclaimer, this is a long one.

I don't know if anyone else read birth stories as much as I did in the days leading up to their little ones arrival, but I figured after having read so many I would add ours to the mix. Actually I was kind of hesitant to write about our experience in the first place, let alone post it on the world wide web for everyone and anyone to see, but I figured I would on the off chance that this helps someone who's preparing to give birth soon and spends 4+ hours a day reading birth stories like I did. I'm just going to warn you though, if you're looking for a birth story where everything goes according to plan and its smooth sailing all the way around then you should definitely look somewhere else. Because in our birth story nothing goes according to plan. Nothing.

Symphysis Pubic Dysfunction and Prodromal Labor. Two terms I had never heard of prior to my pregnancy but left quite the impression on me as my pregnancy and labor progressed.
For those of you who don't know, Symphysis Pubic Dysfunction otherwise known as SPD is a condition in which the hormone Relaxin released by your body during pregnancy causes the ligaments which hold your pubic joint stable to relax beyond what is  normal. This is truly as uncomfortable as it sounds. From the 5th month of my pregnancy onward this condition made every day a challenge. Some days were better than others depending on my activity level but for the majority of my pregnancy I was in a fair amount of pain. Little did I know, this pain would be worsened beyond anything I could imagine at the end of my pregnancy, but more on that later.
Prodromal Labor is another haunting phrase I have a new appreciation for.

Some refer to it simply as early labor or false labor, but for those who have experienced it for days on end, it is so much more than that. Prodromal Labor is labor that has all the signs of true labor; frequent contractions that may be regular or irregular and even the loss of the mucus  plug in some women. Prodromal labor usually happens at night, with contractions coming anywhere from 20 to 5 minutes apart, then stops cold during the day only to resume the next evening. This torture can go on for days. Needless to say, no pregnant woman who has gone through this would simply call it false labor, it is real labor, your body really works hard for however long your contractions last but unfortunately at the end of it you don't have a baby to show for it, just some rather unattractive bags under your eyes from being up all night. Which I guess in a way is practice for when the baby really comes.

So anyway, after the 3rd false alarm, my husband and I didn't even bother getting ready to go to the hospital because we knew that as soon as we got there "labor" would most likely stop. I went into prodromal labor on 4 separate occasions, finally progressing into true labor in the 42nd week of my pregnancy, after experiencing prodromal labor for four nights in a row, which is where our labor/birth story truly starts.

Our due date had come and gone. When I began my pregnancy journey I had a feeling that I would go over the traditional 40 week mark, but I had no idea that I would make it all the way to 42 weeks with no sign of baby. Especially when I went into the hospital the week before Christmas and my doctor promised me that I would not make it through the weekend without having my baby. But alas I did. I made it through the weekend, then Christmas, then New Years, and alllll the way to the end of January. And that, my friends, is not a good feeling at all.

Neither is the excruciating sensation of  your legs seemingly disconnecting from your body which is caused by the SPD I mentioned earlier. But again, that is where I found myself at the end of my pregnancy: 2 weeks overdue sitting in a lazy-boy with an ice pack between my legs. Not fun. Not fun at all. Not at all what I had planned either. I was unable to get in and out of my car, the shower, or my bed without crying from the pain. I had stopped doing laundry weeks earlier since I was unable to walk up and down the stairs. My poor poor husband had to deal with my endless tears all the while picking up the slack of all the housework I was unable to do. It was terrible.
So terrible that at my 40 week appointment I made up my mind that I despite all my hopes and dreams of a completely natural labor I would let my doctor induce me at 41 weeks. I left my doctor's office feeling sad that I would have to be induced, but cheered by the fact that my pain would be over in a week. HA!

Monday came and along with it my much anticipated 41 week appointment. My husband had even taken off work in anticipation of a trip to the hospital we were sure would happen as soon as I left the office. Even the ultrasound tech was convinced that we would be induced that day and have our bouncing baby girl by Wednesday at the latest. Apparently the only person who didn't get the memo was my doctor. Because she was still adamant against inducing me, even with knowing how much pain I was in, very little movement from our baby during our latest biophysical, and amniotic fluid levels that were getting lower and lower. She set my induction for the following Tuesday, 2 days after the 42 week mark, wrote me a prescription for Tylenol 3 for the pain I was in, and sent me home.
I am not ashamed to admit that I cried. No, I bawled, like a 2 year old whose just smooshed his fingers in a car door. Like I said, my poor poor husband. Because as hard as this was for me to go through, I know it was just as hard on him to watch me and know he could do nothing to make me feel better. So he drove me home, tucked me into bed, and went off to fill the prescription. And together we waited for Tuesday to come.

Tuesday never came. At least not in the sense that we thought it would. That's because, small favors, we never made it to Tuesday.

I had spent the week since my 41 week appointment praying and pleading with God to please let our little girl come into the world naturally without having to be induced. And on Saturday January 24th, after 4 days of prodromal labor (the evil term I mentioned earlier) I finally went into labor. Quickly.
Contractions started at 6:30 Saturday evening after my husband and I had eaten dinner. We were both trying to relax; he playing his video games, and me alternating between reading birth stories online and watching Once Upon a Time on Netflix. It had been a long couple of days and we were resigned to the fact that I would spend the majority of the evening having contractions that went no where. So when my contractions first started we thought nothing of it. Not even when they were coming 5 minutes apart 2 hours later. I was convinced that this was another false alarm. So I got in the shower.
My mild 5 min apart contractions suddenly became forceful 3 min apart contractions, and after a half hour of debating, praying, and texting my friend who was to come to the hospital with me, we decided it was time to head out.

In the 10 minute car ride to the hospital I had 5 contractions. This was really it! My labor had started all on its own, no pitocin needed. We thanked God for answering our prayers.
By the time we got to the hospital and checked in to triage my contractions were 1.5 minutes apart and 2 minutes long. Unfortunately I was only dilated 1cm. Looking back I should have known this was a bad sign from the beginning. But I was hopeful that the intensity of my labor would have me dilating fairly quickly. As per my birth plan I asked that no one offer me the epidural unless I specifically requested it. And with that being said we (somewhat) happily moved to our Labor and Delivery room.

My nurse was simply amazing. She advocated for me when the resident doctor and doctor on call were pressuring me to have my water broken and internal fetal monitoring hooked up. I knew without a doubt that this was not what I wanted and with the support of her, my husband, and my friend, I stood my ground. I insisted that I be allowed to labor naturally for as long as was safe for our baby. And finally, after 4 hours of trying to pressure me, the doctors gave up and let me labor in peace. Another prayer answered.

So even when 2am rolled around and it was revealed that I had only dilated 1 more cm in 4 hours I was still hopeful that things would all fall into place and go according to plan. After all, we had made it this far hadn't we?

1cm in four hours is definitely not the progress one hopes for when they go into labor. Especially when those four hours are spent enduring contractions that come every 1.5 minutes without the help of an epidural or painkillers. But the atmosphere in my Labor and Delivery room was still hopeful. So far, in spite of all the delays, things were going almost exactly according to plan. We had on praise and worship music and we prayed and talked and laughed as I alternated between rocking back and forth on the birthing ball and walking up and down the halls.

Eventually I got tired and moved to the bed to labor. The amazing nurse I mentioned earlier showed me how to relax my whole body and breathe through the contractions that were getting stronger and stronger by the minute. Thankfully this helped me to endure when it felt like the pain was going to rip me apart. So I sat back against the pillows, closed my eyes, relaxed as best I could, and prayed some more.

I stayed like this for what seemed like hours. Every once in a while I would look over at my friend and husband for reassurance and then close my eyes again and concentrate on making it through the contractions. They prayed over me all the while and the atmosphere in the room was very peaceful. It was a peace that came from knowing God was ultimately in control.

Around 3:30 am my water broke without me really realizing what had happened. I was concentrating so hard that when it happened I overlooked it as just more fluid leaking as it had all night. (Yeah, labor and delivery is just gross) It wasn't until the nurse came back to check on us at 4:30 am that I realized it really had broken. By this time my contractions were 30 seconds apart. The pain was unimaginable and I had still not progressed beyond 2cm.

So in spite of all that I had hoped for and the birth plan I had so carefully prepared, I opted to receive the epidural. As upsetting as this was, I knew that this may be exactly what we needed in order for my body to relax enough for labor to progress. I was sad, but I decided to sacrifice my own wishes for what I hoped would be best for our baby girl.
They administered the epidural fairly quickly and soon enough I was numb from the waist down. The nurse instructed us all to settle in and relax once again and we all tried to get some sleep. Unfortunately sleep is not easy to come by when one is in labor, even when you can't really feel your contractions. So I laid in the dark thinking about how our whole world was going to change and dreaming of what our girl would look like.

At 6:30 things went south. Since receiving the epidural and being hooked up to internal fetal monitors my blood pressure had been steadily rising and Lily's heart rate was slowing. My doctor who had so far let me labor pretty much unassisted, rushed into the room along with a team of nursing staff. He talked about her decreasing heart rate and the fear that she was going to inhale meconium (look it up) as she came out. Apparently when my water broke it was meconium thick. Oxygen was strapped to my face and I was turned on all fours in an effort to make our baby more comfortable. Let me tell you this, it was far from comfortable for me, or my poor husband. Talk about embarrassing! This did however work for a time and my doctor left the room promising to return soon and check on us.

Soon came about 5 minutes later. Once again they all rushed into the room, strapped oxygen on my face, turned me on all fours, and gave me a shot to stop my labor. My contractions were coming so rapidly that our baby could not keep up and her heart rate had dropped to 80bpm. It was the most frightening few moments of my life. My doctor sat beside me on the bed and apologized but stated that Lily simply was not able to tolerate labor anymore. She was fading fast and he had a feeling that she was simply too big to come out. He feared that she might need to be rushed to the NICU and have tests run if she inhaled the meconium she was surrounded by.

So the decision was made to perform and emergency C-Section. We were rushed into the operating room, my husband donned scrubs and a hair net, and we prepared to finally meet our baby girl. As fast as things moved I can't help but remember the sensation of someone marking a line above my pelvic bone with a sharpie. I panicked. Understandably. My epidural had stopped working and they were seconds away from starting the incision for the c-section. Like I said, nothing goes as planned. But they administered a new epidural, a bit stronger this time, and began the work of bringing our girl into the world. When the doctors pulled her out it was as if my body knew the work was over and I was finally able to relax. In fact I struggled to stay awake long enough to even look at her!

Thankfully they were able to clean her up and keep her from inhaling any meconium at all. My husband held her in his arms for almost 45 minutes as they cleaned me up and stitched up my incision. I cried and laughed uncontrollably as I listened to her cry for the first time. My doctor laughed as she smiled up at him (a real smile from a newborn!) and when they placed her in my husbands arms she simply gazed up at him with big blue eyes. She was so awake and alert!

Our baby girl was born at 7:25 am on January 25th. She was a whopping 9lbs 8oz and 23.5 inches long. Bright red hair, that eventually faded to yellow blonde like mine, and bright blue eyes. She was beautiful. And she was indeed too big to fit through the birth canal, her head had caught on my pubic bone! Apparently that was why she never fully dropped into my pelvis and I never dilated beyond 2cm.

But in spite of all that had gone "wrong" I was happier than I had ever been in my entire life. My plans had completely unraveled at the seams but it was okay. Because God has blessed us beyond measure! He looked down and saw all that needed to happen for Lily to come into this world a healthy baby. He orchestrated everything according to His will and for our ultimate good. So the title "God Laughs" doesn't come from the saying, "we make plans and God laughs" as you may have thought, it comes from my sincere belief that as He looks down on us now, 4 years after her birth, and watches Lily grow, and smile, and giggle, He laughs too. He laughs because He loves her more than words can describe, and He has a plan for her ultimate good greater than any her father or I could dream up.