Molly's Birth Story

Part 1: Pregnancy

As I sit down to write this, Molly is one week old, sleeping peacefully in her swing. Flashback to April 1, 2023...

 

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew that I wanted to give birth with as few medical interventions as possible. I knew that I wanted to feel the awesome capabilities of my body. My pregnancy was really nondescript, just a little nausea at the beginning and some overall discomfort at the end, but I was able to continue my normal activity right up until the end.

So, I’m a healthy person having a healthy pregnancy, and at my 20-week appointment, I brought up my initial ideas about my birth plan. My OB immediately put the kibosh on my ideas, telling me that due to my age, I would be getting induced at 39 weeks. No wiggle room.

Not only did that not fit in with my goals for labor and birth, it also set off some other red flags about her unwillingness to even have a conversation.

I knew at that point I needed to seek other care. I looked into my options and found the midwife group at Regional One. I also determined that hiring a doula would further help me reach my goals.

I switched my care and hired Holly by week 24. Each appointment I went to with the midwives only confirmed my choice. I have never received that level of attention from a medical professional. Each midwife took the time to get to know me and my wishes in each appointment. They were all totally on board with my birth plan.

I kept up with my fitness routine, prenatal yoga, birth education with Holly and basically sailed through the rest of my pregnancy.

Around 38 weeks, I started to feel some period-like cramping for the first time, and my non-stress showed that I was having contractions. For the next three weeks, I did everything I could to kick start labor. I knew the midwives would want to induce before 42 weeks, so I felt that in order to achieve my goals, I had to race against their clock. So many medjool dates and cups of red raspberry tea. So much curb walking and bedroom activity.

Nothing really worked. I started getting anxious on my due date, Saturday, November 18th. That began my Thanksgiving break, so I really had nothing to do but focus on getting the baby out before an induction.

Spoiler alert. It did not work.

I went in for my 41-week appointment on Monday, November 27th, and my blood pressure was a little high for their liking. The baby looked great on the non-stress test, but the high-risk doctor told me to go home, eat something light (unfortunately, I had just ravenously downed a large bowl of chili), and then report to the hospital that evening for an induction.

I was terrified and disappointed, but at the same time, I was ready to have the baby.

Part 2: Labor  

Thus begins my labor. Here it is, told in the present tense, based on my memories and notes from Andy. 

We arrive at Regional One triage at 5PM on Monday 11/27, and I get checked into my labor and delivery suite by 6PM. The two midwives on call come into the room to talk about my induction. Coincidentally, one of them, Lacie, is 36 weeks pregnant and has been taking prenatal yoga with me. I had no idea she was even a midwife. Lacie checks me, and I am one centimeter dilated and 50% effaced, which is up from a half a centimeter last week (Progress!) She does a membrane sweep and then recommends I take a dose of cervix softener (misoprostol) to see if that will get things going.

From 6PM-10PM, I have mild contractions, and I try to rest through them. Andy and I watch Monday Night Football (Bears vs Vikings), and he tries to distract me from any discomfort. I start to get more uncomfortable, but I feel stuck in bed because every time I move, the baby comes off the monitor, and the not-so-nice night nurse has to come in and reposition it.

I get my second dose of cervix softener around 10:30PM, and things really begin to pick up close to midnight. The nurse comes and tells me the baby’s heart rate is dropping with every contraction, so I need to lie on my left side for an hour. Pure misery. Andy comes into bed with me and gives me counter pressure with each contraction. The contractions are coming every two minutes and lasting 30-45 seconds. I feel so stuck and like I can’t do any comfort measures. I was under the impression that labor would be a slow ramp up, but this is not that. It got very painful very quickly.

At 3:00AM, I get checked again, and I am two centimeters dilated but 100% effaced. Lacie is very encouraged about the work my body put in to become fully effaced, but I was disappointed with the dilation. In nine hours, I had only progressed one centimeter. We call my doula Holly and ask her to come at 4:00AM because that’s when the midwives told me I could begin intermittent monitoring. I am so looking forward to moving around.

When Holly arrives, she immediately takes charge. Without asking anyone, she unplugs my monitors and gets me up on my feet. She instructs me to relax into the contractions and let go of all the tension I am holding. My contractions are coming every one to two minutes and lasting 30 seconds. I am feeling them only in the fronts of my thighs – every contraction feels like being stung by 1,000 bees. Eventually Lacie comes back in and puts me back on the monitors because my contractions are coming so frequently. But I stay up on my feet and just deal with the cords.

After taking nine hours to go one centimeter, I start to feel really discouraged about how much pain I am in, and it is now only three hours later. I feel defeated, and I know that I can’t go on for another 18+ hours. I announce that I am ready for the epidural. The two midwives newly on shift come and ask if I want to be checked before getting the epidural, and I agree. Meredith said I was six centimeters. I am so happy to hear that, I decide I can keep going without the shot. It’s now 7:00AM, and I have new life.

Andy and Holly are so encouraging to me, and we try a ton of different positions. They show confidence in me that I don’t have in myself. Soon after getting checked, the contractions switch from my thighs to my back. I know that means the baby is turning (good news!) and is currently occiput posterior aka sunny-side up (bad news!). We need the baby to be facing my spine instead of my navel before pushing. My contractions also become double-peaked, so I feel like I cannot come down from the wave. We try even more positions to get the baby to move – all fours, side-lying, Captain Morgan pose, peanut ball, birth ball, lunges. You name it, we tried it.

Andy and Holly alternate giving me hip squeezes and words of affirmation. I become obsessed with knowing what time it is and then calculating in my head realistically how much time is left. Holly and Andy tell me it’s morning and light outside. I know I must be making progress. The pain is tremendous, but it feels productive.

At 8:00AM, the midwives check me, and I am 8 centimeters dilated, but my bag of waters is still bulging. The mission now is to get my water to break. Holly tells me once that happens, I’ll likely be pushing. My contractions come around to the front and space out a little more. I hope that means the baby has turned into proper position. I start getting the urge to push, so I come into a deep squat holding the side of the bed and push during a contraction. I feel a big pop and a huge gush of water. It’s almost time! A few contractions later, I feel the ring of fire to indicate crowning, and Holly calls the midwives so I can begin pushing.

The team arrives and tells me I can push the baby out in my current position, a deep squat right above the floor next to the bed. I don’t really want to have my baby on the ground, so I get up into the bed on hands and knees. Andy is at the head of the bed with a washcloth and fan. I push like that for about 30 minutes, and it never feels productive. Holly asks if want to squat, standing on the bed. I try that, and it immediately feels much more productive.

I push in the deep squat for another 30 minutes. In between contractions, I can stand up and rest. My body knows exactly what to do when the contractions come. I scream very loudly from my gut with each push (so much so that my throat is sore the next day).

The midwives tell me they can see the head emerging with each push and that baby has a full head of hair. I have two-three minute breaks between the pushing contractions in which I can rest and gather my strength. (I hadn’t had a break that long in over twelve hours.) I feel so clear-headed during this time. I keep wanting to ask, “How many more pushes? Am I tearing? Will you have to use the vacuum?” It feels like I have pushed for so long that the midwives are going to get called out to another birth. Despite feeling so clear-headed, I don’t ask any of these questions. I must reserve my strength. (I was shocked to learn I only pushed for one hour and five minutes. It felt so much longer.)

Every time I push, I do ask where baby is and if the head is staying out or if more of the head is visible each time. The team tells me I am doing great, but I am not really sure I believe it. They ask if I want a mirror, but I say no. I basically have had my eyes closed for twelve hours at this point, so I see no point in opening them. I want sensory deprivation.

Andy comes to the head of the bed with a wet washcloth for my face and the fan. He strokes my hair. Holly comes to the head of the bed and gives me some words of encouragement. I’m not sure what she said, but I do remember opening my eyes, looking square at her, and feeling confident that I could keep going.

After each push, the nurse moves the baby’s heart rate monitor down farther, so I know the baby is close to coming out. They tell me that the baby’s heart rate is perfect, and that he or she is tolerating the pushing well. (That makes one of us!) They also take off my contraction and heart rate monitors. This all makes me feel really good about being close.

I have one contraction where I am able to take three breaths and push each time, and it finally feels like something sticks. I stand up, and it feels like the head is still between my legs for the first time. Baby is right there.

On the next contraction, I finally feel relief with my push- I can tell the head is out. The midwives tell me to breathe and push again, and then I get the shoulders out and the rest follows.

Andy catches her and announces, “It’s a baby girl.” At this point, she is behind me as I make indescribable joyful squawks. The midwives pass her to me between my legs, and I collapse into the puddle of the bed and put her on my chest. The team surrounds me, dries her off and suctions her nose and mouth. She isn’t really crying, more just making little noises. I don’t know her Apgar score, but it has to be nearly perfect. She comes out so vital and strong.

It feels like time stands still. They get me turned around in bed, so I can sit back. Andy comes over to me, and we are simply overjoyed. I said, “It’s Molly!” And Andy was speechless.

Molly and I have skin to skin time, and the midwives begin working on me. They start me on Pitocin in my IV because I am bleeding quite a bit. They instruct me to push to get the placenta out, and it comes out easily. They tell me I am still bleeding, but they massage my uterus and announce that they got the placenta all in one piece. (I later got to see it – it was enormous!)

They somehow put new sheets on the bed with me and baby still lying on it and wipe my legs down. We had been sitting in a pile of blood and guts.

The repair process begins soon after. It is nowhere near the pain of the labor and birth, but it is definitely not pain-free. I have a second-degree tear that requires stitches. I ask Holly where my adrenaline is because I thought I was not supposed to notice the repairs. She tells me, “Look at your baby” and tries to distract me. It kind of works.

As they are finishing, Molly begins rooting around a little, and I try to get her latched. She opens wide right away and starts sucking. It is amazing. She nurses for nearly an hour.

Eventually a nurse comes in to wipe her down and measure her. She weighs 8lbs 5oz, is 20 inches long, and has a head circumference of 36 centimeters, putting her over the 80th percentile in each category. Big girl!

We stay in the L&D room for another two hours, waiting for my Pitocin IV to finish and a postpartum room to open. We came in as a couple and are leaving as a family of three. Molly truly is a miracle.

Part 3: Thank you

This is going to sound like an Oscar acceptance speech, apologies in advance. No, I don’t think giving birth unmedicated is award-worthy, but I am *bleeping* proud of myself and owe a lot to my team.

Andy and I struggled over the decision to hire a doula, and as it turned out, we are eternally grateful we did. There is a 100% chance I would have gotten the epidural were it not for Holly. She gave me the birth story of my dreams—what an amazing gift to have for the rest of my life. We hired her around Week 24, and she has been offering continuous support and counsel since.

The care I received at Regional One felt first-class. Some of the accommodations were more steerage-like, but give me amazing personal care over a state-of-the-art shower head any day. Every single employee I came into contact with was a dream, especially the L&D nurse Kaela and postpartum nurse Alayna. “The Med,” as it’s known in Memphis, gets a bad rap for being the Medicaid hospital. Clearly the people criticizing it have never received care there, at least not in the baby department. I’m glad I wasn’t influenced by those naysayers. I will forever be shouting praise all over Memphis for Regional One.

Like most people, I’m not a fan of going to the doctor, but I am counting down the days until I get to go back to the midwives for my post-birth check-up. I’m thrilled to get three-week and six-week appointments with them. I touched on this in Part 1, but the care I received from them from my first appointment on was phenomenal. The four midwives who were on call during my birth, Lacie, Sarah, Renee, and Meredith, gave me the experience of a lifetime.

And to my birth partner, Andy, who is currently holding Molly in a Moby wrap as he finishes work today. He happily went to hours of classes, read books, and prepared for the birth right alongside me. Giving up eight hours on a college football Saturday without a blink of the eye. Taking on all the housework. Being a “south” dad and catching our baby. Keeping track of all my post-birth medications. There were several times during the birth that I didn’t think I could go on. But Andy’s confidence in me was my north star. He coached me up on the goal line, and now we have our miracle.

I know a lot of women have trauma around birth that can affect their recovery from birth, bonding with the baby, and future pregnancy. I feel so blessed and lucky that I can look back on my birth with nothing but joy.