Clinton’s Induction

Disclaimer: Talking about childbirth.

Clinton

Our world was filled with so much light and love the day you were born. The joy that you have brought our entire family can’t be described. I’m grateful to call you my son. No matter what this life throws, I will always love you. 

Love always and forever…
Mommy

As my son’s second birthday comes and goes I relish his smiles and accomplishments. His response to balloons is infectious. Giggles and laughs that make your heart smile. The beauty of looking at this world through a child’s eyes is remarkable. Filled with innocence, connection, beauty and pure love. It is these moments that make up for all the struggles that come with Parenthood. 

I remember the evening before you were born, Daddy, your sisters and I had a lovely dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. It was fantastic up until the point where the cervix thinning suppository kicked in. Earlier that day I was in the hospital getting a non-stress test and suppository insertion to start your induction into this world. After dinner when I was starting to get quite uncomfortable we went home in the hopes of getting some rest before your arrival. 

Unfortunately my body’s reaction to this first step in the induction process was not great. I spent roughly from 6:00 p.m. until around 11:00 or 11:30 p.m coping with constant pain. This was not the contraction rest cycle intervals. This was in my best description “rectum tearing pain.” I spent time between massage, rocking and showers but after 5 and a bit hours I was looking for a reprieve. Especially, considering I had been up all day before and was ready for a good night’s sleep… Or at the very least some rest to build strength for delivery.

So we grabbed our overnight bag and headed out around 11:30 p.m. We went through the after-hours protocol to arrive at the hospital. We got checked in and strapped up for monitoring. Then the first dilation check. How many women have experienced being told you’re only one or two centimetres dilated after hours of pain and those words are just so deflating. 

In my case I was grateful for some temporary drugs that we offered. As the monitors were showing that I wasn’t having contractions, I was having one mega forever contraction…. I swear they didn’t believe me when we showed up and I said I was in continuous pain. That from about an hour after the tab insert and on there was no fluctuation, no time for rest. 

I remember before heading to the hospital trying to hide this pain from your Daddy. I wanted him to be rested for the main event. He did ask the doctor if he could “catch.” So obviously I needed him sharp. 

Anyway, from the time they gave me something for the pain things got better. The drug stopped the ass crippling pressure enough to catch some, I like to call conscious sleeping. Have you ever felt like you’re sleeping but you can hear what’s happening around you? It’s an experience that I’ve had more than once after spending time at a hospital. I think it has something to do with someone coming to monitor or interact with you right after you fall asleep. This has been my experience for the few hospital visits that I’ve had. That as soon as you close your eyes and actually start sleeping, the door opens for the next check.

But I’m sure I caught a bit of sleep though as I felt somewhat rested at around 4am. Daddy made a fantastic pillow. Can you picture two not very small people sleeping on a gurney… Gurneys aren’t that comfortable to start with. I am also a pillow nest kind of person, especially when pregnant. So only having a few pillows wasn’t cutting it for body positioning. Anyway, around 4:00 a.m. I felt or heard maybe a combination of both a very strange pop sound. It was so quiet where we were, daddy heard it too. It was accompanied by a gush. Thank goodness for the puppy pads they put on all the gurneys… lol The glamorous life of walking the maternity ward with a puppy pad ready for the next leak. 

At this point it was time to walk down the hall to get settled into the labour and delivery room. I was feeling pretty good. But things quickly progressed. 0 to 60 almost instantly. I went from no contractions to about 45 seconds plus long, roughly 2 minutes apart. If you didn’t know, contractions are timed from the beginning of one, to the beginning of the next. Leaving extremely short rest intervals. During this time they check dilation again… 

ugh only 5 cm dilated…. 

So with that, the anesthesiologist showed up. I had the royal treatment. He even started my IV. 

Which, I then proceeded to pull out of my hand by accident during the intensity. Pretty much spraying blood all over the place. Daddy enjoying all of it, cracking jokes and getting a few sideways glances from me… 

LOL oh good time… 

It’s a good thing I felt significantly better once they hooked me up with an epidural. It’s definitely an experience to have them shove a giant needle into your spine somewhere… Curl and don’t move or you can permanently damage yourself. Trying not to move through a contraction is rough but obviously manageable. 

Anyway, from here a few minutes after everything settles down they dilate check again. 

Guess what… 

Fully dilated… 

I felt like history was repeating itself. A similar situation happened with my second daughter. Where, pushing her out was significantly more difficult as my brain and my body were really not working together after the drugs were administered. 

Luckily I had some fantastic nurses who said we’re going to take a bit of time to let the drugs wear off. This was a relief as I know all too well how the drugs disconnect the brain from the body. This waiting period actually worked out fantastic. As it was shift change and our doctor was coming in as the on call for the day. This was obviously planned as Clint was induced. But no one really knows how one’s body will respond to the treatment of induction. We actually would have missed having our doctor deliver if it wasn’t for this waiting.

This also gave time for my eldest daughter to show up to be a part of the event. I had asked my 14-year-old daughter if she wanted to be a part of the birth. She was ecstatic. But she lucked out. She showed up after I received the epidural and missed all the pain. Which was probably a good thing. The event is quite momentous without seeing someone you love in pain. 

When Susannah first arrived Grandma Grandpa and Linah got the chance to pop in and say hello. It was a quick hi before they headed off for breakfast to wait to hear the news. 

Just before 8:00 a.m. things started to get moving. The doctor showed up knowing full well we were ready to deliver a baby. So the doctor and my husband suited up. Then picture this; I witnessed over my knee caps the doctor and my husband deciding the best position for them. 

Ultimately switching spots… 

All right, here we go… 

Time to push… 

Susannahs up at my head holding my hand being supportive. Watching the whole scenario happen. Me asking her if she’s feeling okay as she’s looking a little faint… To her sitting down for a few minutes because she was. But she was only out for a few and then came back to support. 

From there Daddy would describe the crowning of your head looking like a smushed brain. To the doctor doing some manipulation as your head appeared. To a big push that led to you surfing out into Daddy’s arms on a tidal wave of amniotic fluid. Which covered the doctor hip to chin… 

I swear it was a good thing she had her mouth closed…

Occupational hazard I suppose. 

From there the usual aspirate baby. Then straight on to Mama’s chest. At this point Susannah got the privilege to cut the umbilical. An experience I’ll have to ask her to write about in the future.

So Clint had some fluid built up as his delivery was less than 10 minutes. After a few minutes on my chest the baby was taken to be checked out, measured, Apgar tested, the usual. Cleaned up a bit. Then the infant cap that they had set out for him wasn’t large enough. So they had to find something a little bit bigger to accommodate my 9 lb 1 oz boy. He was then given to his big sister to cuddle for a few minutes. 

During this time is when all the fun stuff like after birth happens. It’s quite interesting, lots of pushing on the abdomen. Checking for blood clots. Stitching up tears. Inspecting the placenta. A delicacy, I hear in some cultures. My doctor even talked to us about the position of the umbilical, shape, colour, size and other attributes. It was quite fascinating. During this conversation my husband thanked the doctor for changing places with him. He was grateful he didn’t get a chest full of amniotic fluid. A few laughs were exchanged. Grateful for such a positive atmosphere to welcome our baby boy into.

Then it’s time to get the boy onto the breast. He was a natural. But his only problem was staying awake. He just wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep. Quite understandable in my opinion as we forced him out a week early. Reasoning was excessive fluid which could have meant complications during delivery. A little background on this issue meant we went for ultrasounds periodically and planned an early delivery. From my other two pregnancies I had ultrasounds at around 12 and 20 weeks. But with Clint we had so many. A whole other experience to discuss. The story that entails amazing bladder control. 

Anyway, with Clint’s sleepiness and size the nurse came to do a routine blood sugar test. Clint’s real estate on the inside was pretty tight. So when he came out he had one extremely purple foot. We discussed it later with a nurse from our doctor’s office and he dubbed it Thanos purple. Which is a perfect way to describe this colour. With this, a low sugar level came back. Which gained Clint a ticket to the NICU. 

He was a sight in the isolate. For one, he was massive compared to all his roommates in the NICU. On top of his low blood sugar he was jaundiced. So he was under the lights, cooking.   So much so we could see him sweating up a storm in his personal sauna. I suppose that was unusual as they turned the isolates temperature down at that point.

Our stay was a short 3 days. But during these days there was a reasonable amount of stress. Mom guilt has a way of stirring emotions. Not to mention the major hormonal changes that go with labour, delivery and breastfeeding. But one thing I’ve learned, is doing your best in the moment is all you can ask for. That you can acknowledge these feelings but then have to recognize the good of situations. That your best one day might not be comparable the next, but it is still your best. 

Some of that definitely influenced a hard time sleeping. It was also a strange experience not having the baby beside me, while I slept. 

But it was nice to be able to spend the time that he was in the NICU in my own private room. I can’t imagine the struggle of having a baby in hospital and not being able to stay.

This was fantastic actually. Having a private washroom and shower while in the hospital was a privilege. But, I suspect that it had something to do with having insurance and not being very busy, that I got to keep a room.

We made the most of things and spent the majority of our time in the NICU. Lots of nursing and expressing colostrum, the beginning stages of breast milk. This helped my milk come in faster as we were trying to get this baby back to birth weight and normalized blood sugars. Clint’s birth weight story was different from the typical I knew. As he was put on a glucose drip, he gained significant weight on the first day. But as he was weaned off and relying on Mama’s milk only, things fluctuated down. With that I’m grateful for my ability to produce an express mother’s milk. This gave my husband and the grandparents the ability to help. I was able to comfortably leave the room to shower, eat and take care of myself. All while the baby was in the extremely capable hands of our family and the staff in the NICU. 

Things like this really made a positive impact on the stress level vibrating through me. Taking time for self-care is so important. I know it’s easier said than done. I still struggle putting my self care ahead of everyone else’s. Work in progress… 

We were also grateful for today’s technology. It provided us the ability to watch the Toronto Raptors in the NBA finals while we were there. Clinton was around 12 hours old when he got to take in his first basketball experience. It was so beautiful to watch my husband and son bond through basketball and skin to skin time.

After a few days’ vacation under the lights, many heel pricks and a list of other other achievements we were finally discharged to go home. Where we started our new journey as a family of five.

William, you are the best father I could ask for, for our children. The children and I are blessed to have you, the family and love you bring into our world. Thank you for experiencing the beautiful storm of childbirth with me. Your support and ability amaze me daily. I look forward to continuing walking the path of parenthood with you. It is the most beautiful yet trying experience of a lifetime. 

JEMI
Edit – WDI

P.S.

To all the momma’s and parents to be out there, advocate for yourself and how you’re feeling as the patient. You know your body better than anyone. That regardless of how many births and experiences the doctors and staff have, you are unique. Where every experience is different. So don’t be afraid to speak up. Also, it’s important to have one of your support people be your voice when you feel like you are not being heard. I would recommend having discussions before being in the heat of the moment. Discussions of how you might feel during multiple different situations. Have a plan in place and possibly a safe word. But remember regardless of how much time you spend planning, childbirth is so unpredictable. That your preparation at any moment could be cast aside. But that’s something to discuss in the preliminary discussion and planning. 

I wish you all positive childbirth experiences. 

But, if it’s not what you envisioned, I extend light and love to help you through.