Isaac's Birth -or- An All-Natural Momma Trapped in a High Tech World

This is my Blogging for Books entry. I wrote this a little over 3 years ago.



Let me tell you a little about my husband and me and the way we are as parents. We have always been close to our children. We hold our babies a lot. We do not leave them to cry. We do not leave them with babysitters when they are babies. We carry our babies in a sling. Our babies have all slept with us, and so have our toddlers and older ages who feel the need to be close to us at night. We try to be careful in our considerations of how to do things with and for our children. They are very precious to us and we see our role as parents as a Holy commission from God. With our 4th pregnancy and birth, we were about to find out how hard it would be to have so much of what is important to us disrupted and threatened.

When our third child, JP, was 15 months old we were thrilled to become pregnant again. Hubby and I had talked a lot about having an unassisted birth this time around. We felt very confident in our abilities to work together and have a baby without outside help. Hubby had caught babies #2 and 3 and loved that, and I never felt that I needed any other support than that from him. He was the only one I could be real with and that brought me peace.

When I was 2-3 months along I suddenly had some bleeding. I was alarmed at this and immediately began to pray for my baby. I did everything I knew to do to help, and the bleeding did slow down and by the next day had stopped. I was very careful after that to do no heavy lifting, etc. It was right before Christmas and I let a lot of errands and activities go undone. Two weeks later I had an odd episode of a sudden blood pressure surge. After that we went in to see our family doctor. He had no idea what to think of the blood pressure surge, but was able to put our minds to ease about the health of our precious baby, since we were able to hear his heartbeat.

One other puzzling thing at this visit was that I was measuring 4 weeks farther along than I thought I was. The doctor suggested we come back in a few weeks for an ultrasound to check for twins. Although we did not normally consent to ultrasound, because of the bleeding, blood pressure thing, and my much larger than expected self, we decided to go ahead. What we found was that I was actually a month farther along than I thought I was! I would have been less surprised to find that I was carrying triplets! But, still, not many women get to shave a whole month off of their pregnancies in a day, so I wasn't about to complain! One other odd thing we found was a sort of strange blood bubble right over my cervix. The doctor was not sure what it was all about, but supposed that could be the cause of my periodic bleeding. (I had bled 2 or 3 times between our first visit with him and the ultrasound.)

In the weeks to come I had more bleeding episodes. It usually happened on a Friday, so it was not a time when I could get in to see my midwife from my third pregnancy or the doctor she works with. By Sat. or Sunday it was usually stopped again. I felt very precarious about things. Then, at 21 weeks I started bleeding on a Friday and it did not stop. I went in to see my doctor on Monday, and we decided to do another ultrasound. The blood bubble looked a little different, and at that point my doctor thought I may have placenta previa. He sent me on my way to a high-risk OB that had a more advanced ultrasound. On my way there I felt like I was in a fog. I had never been healthier going into a pregnancy than I was for this one. I had been eating a whole foods diet, no sugar, no meat, no dairy. I felt great. I was expecting to have the very best pregnancy I had ever had. So how could this be happening to me?!

My husband and I went on to the high risk place and had very kind treatment by the staff and doctor there. The baby looked great and healthy in every way. We were asked if we wanted to know the baby's sex. We had never done this before and I immediately said no. But my husband said to me, "Let's just have some good news right now. OK?" We have never had a preference about the sex of our babies, and we would have been thrilled with a boy or a girl. Somehow it seemed that it would be encouraging to know who we had inside there. It was very clear that we had another precious son!

We could not tell for sure what the blood bubble was about or if I had placenta previa, but clearly there was a problem and the doctor recommended that I go on full bed rest until further notice. What a shock! Bed rest?! I had 3 children at home, ages 1, 3, and 7. I homeschoolled then. My husband works 24 hour shifts! Oh my...

The drive home was surreal. I was in shock. I was suddenly in a high risk pregnancy. Wow.

We had been considering a few different names for our baby. Once we knew we had a son, there was no doubt in my mind what his name was. Isaac Elijah. Isaac means laughter, and when facing a scary pregnancy, I felt we should name him on faith that he would bring laughter to our lives. Elijah means gift from God. No need to explain that, eh? So, Isaac Elijah was his name.

I was on bed rest for 7 weeks, during which I experienced hemorrhaging 3 different times and was rushed to the hospital. In the hospital I was put on magnesium sulfate and turbutaline to keep my uterus calm. Uteruses are very smart. When they have something foreign inside of them they contract in order to expel it. Unfortunately for me, I kept bleeding, it kept irritating my uterus, and my uterus kept contracting.....which was putting my baby in jeopardy.

When I was 28 weeks I made my final emergency trip to the hospital for my worst hemorrhaging ever. I was found to be dilated to 4 cm. and was bleeding all the time (as I had been for the entire bedrest). We were told it was best for me to plan to stay in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy since I lived nearly an hour away and things were so precarious. If I had thought bed rest at home was bad, being separated from my children was worse! I had never been away from my children until these hospital visits, and I missed them so badly and was just aching thinking of 3 long months of hospitalization and separation. I had already had to wean Jacob abruptly because of all the contractions I had been having. Now I could not even share cuddles and security with him throughout the day and night. When the children would come to visit me, Jacob refused to sit with me, touch me, or let me touch him. I am sure that all of my tubes and wires looked pretty scary to him.

I had to have the external uterine and contraction monitor belts on me at all times in order to keep tabs on my baby and whether or not I was having a placental abruption. I was told that this was the single most helpful indicator of danger. I hated knowing that my baby was constantly being bombarded with ultrasound. But I felt I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was getting to be a familiar feeling.

I was given steroid shots in order to help my baby's lungs develop quicker. I had reservations about the wisdom of such shots, but with no time to research this, we felt we had to go with this recommendation in the hopes that it would help our baby.

Because of all the bleeding I continued to have, I ended up with a catheter. They did not want me to get out of bed at all, as any movement I had seemed to make the bleeding worse. It was such a humiliating and painful experience to have the catheter put in, and it was so very uncomfortable to have in. But, once again, it really did seem to be something reasonable that had to be done.

After a few days (maybe 5 or so) I started having contractions that I recognized as real ones. Despite all of our efforts, labor could not be stopped. We had increased the medications all that we could, and yet it was happening. Our baby needed to be born. My uterus could not hold him in any longer.

Once the doctors realized what was going on, they told me they wanted me to have a c-section. WHAT?! A c-sec for a 2 pound baby? I was indignant! My third baby had been almost 10 lbs. But, they explained to me that my baby was breech (which I already knew) and for preemies, their heads are more disproportionate to their bodies than full term babies. Apparently, sometimes when a preemie is breech, they will begin to be born before the mom is fully dilated, but then their head gets caught. I did not feel at all convinced that this was a big enough risk that I should submit to a c-section. I had done enough reading to know way more than I wanted to about the risks of the surgery, plus the risks of whatever pain relief I would choose. The doctors stressed that the combination of the breech risks, plus not knowing what other issues my baby might be facing at such an early gestation, that a c-sec would be the best thing. They were very respectful of our concern about having unneeded surgery. We told them we needed some time to pray about this and think it over. They left the room.

We called a few friends (at 5am!) and asked them to pray for the baby to turn out of his breech position so that I could have a vaginal birth. We prayed. Hubby and I decided that if the baby had not turned within 15 minutes that we would go ahead with the c-sec. The baby did not turn. We got the doctors back in and told them we would accept the c-sec. I made it clear that I was very concerned that I get a low transverse incision and that I hoped to go on to have more children and so they better be careful of me! The doctor was very kind and said that they would definitely do all they could to keep my body in good condition for future pregnancies.

The room went into a whirlwind of activity. I was getting an epidural, having my IV redone, signing papers, drinking nasty sour stuff to neutralize the contents of my stomach. Oh...and having contractions. The OR was brightly lit. I hated being in there and going numb and not having my husband with me. They were shaving some of my pubic hair. Everyone in masks. It made me feel like I was in outer space or something. But I had to do this for my baby. Hubby was then allowed into the room and the surgery began. It wasn't long before Isaac was out. Hub exclaimed, "He's breathing, honey! He's pink! He looks great!" Then our baby was passed off to the NICU team without anyone having the decency to even let me look at him.

That was so painful. I was so saddened by that, I couldn't even form the words to ask to look at my son. It seemed like it should have been so obvious to one and all that I needed to see my baby---the one I was sacrificing myself for! And yet nobody seemed to notice.

Isaac Elijah. 2 1/2 lbs. 13 inches long. Miracle baby.

Hubby went along with Isaac and ran back and forth to tell me what was going on. He was breathing and surpassing the NICU teams expectations. He did not need a ventilator or a central line. He was going to be a low-maintenance preemie.

The surgery was finished up with me being given some heavy drug that knocked me out for hours. I had never consented to such a thing and am still really bothered by that to this day. I can remember being so desperately thirsty and not being able to ask for water or ice, nor to reach for it myself, nor to find the call button to get help. My husband was off to the NICU to supervise what was happening with Isaac (which is exactly where I wanted him to be).

I later found out that when the doctors removed the placenta they found the real source of our problems in the pregnancy. I had a 50% abruption. It was along the back where I guess it could not really be seen by the ultrasound.

Knowing about this abruption has brought me peace about having agreed to the cesarean. If I had gone on to labor and attempt a vaginal birth it could have cost me my precious baby, and possibly even my own life.

The following pictures were taken when Isaac was about 1 week old.


I



Kangaroo care




Feeding through a tube


Isaac spent 40 long days in the NICU. I could tell you a lot of things about those 40 days.

I could tell you how awful it is to be in so much pain after surgery that you can't even hitch yourself up to see your tiny baby who is inside of a plastic incubator.

I could tell you how bad it is to not be able to hold your baby for the first 5 days of his life. And I could tell you of the joy of finally getting to hold my baby and getting to feel **just a little bit** normal during that short first hold.

I could tell you how utterly sad it is to have strangers determine how long you can hold your baby for....and how soothing it is to get an experienced nurse who knows that my baby does best next to my skin for as long as possible.

I can tell you about the outrage we felt as so-called experts wanted to inject our just-born 2 1/2 lb, baby with a hepatitis shot because I did not have labs proving that I did not have it. (My husband battled this one while I was unconscious, and our son did not get poisoned by those people.)

I could tell you about pumping my breasts around the clock to be able to feed my baby. And the joy of having way more milk than he could possibly use.

I could tell you how I felt to be on a death walk every day as I left my 3 older children with friends, to go to the hospital, and then felt like dying again as I had to put my baby back in his box so that I could go home again. I could not be what I wanted to be to any of my children! Misery.

I could tell you how utterly awful it feels to have to walk away from your baby and leave him with a nurse who has been referring to other tiny babies as "spoiled brats."

I could tell you how sad it is to not have been able to protect your baby from someone giving him the wrong medication.

I could tell you about the day that I decided to keep on trusting God only because the alternative was too painful for me to deal with.

I could tell you of the joy of walking out of that hospital with my tiny 4 lb. son and bringing him home where we could give him love and protection all day long.... Of the joy of seeing my older children meet their baby brother for the very first time....


Together for the first time.


I could tell you about the joy of finally getting my baby to nurse after 3 months of pumping....and the sadness of losing my milk supply completely when I became pregnant a few months later.

And now Isaac has been with us for 15 months. He is a wonderful, healthy, happy, smart, and loving boy. Despite his hard start in life, I do believe that he is as secure and happy as any of my other children. Our new baby is due at any time now, and I am hoping to reestablish my nursing relationship with Isaac once I have milk again.

Going through this experience with Isaac has given me a whole new understanding and appreciation for life and for understanding that things do not always go as we think they should. I am sure that I am now a much less judgmental person and more compassionate to those who have found themselves in situations where they were stuck choosing between two very poor alternatives. I don't think I will ever be quick to assume why someone is bottle-feeding their baby ever again. I know I will never experience pregnancy the same way again, as I now have seen and held a tiny little guy who should not have been in my arms for 3 more months. My husband and I have grown so much through our experience with Isaac's pregnancy and birth. I hope we never have to endure anything so difficult again.

I am so thankful to have laughter each day with my precious gift from God, Isaac Elijah.