Adaleigh's birth story (better late than never)

8:00:00 AM Jaclyn Armstrong 0 Comments

I wish I had a fantastic story to share of a natural, unmedicated birth. Instead, I have another story of an American girl with a scheduled cesarean. Fortunately, though, it ends with the birth of a beautiful and healthy baby girl.

Logan's birth was awful. From being overdue, to induction with Pitocin... nearly 24 hrs of labor, 2.5 hrs of pushing without progression... an emergency cesarean with too little anesthesia, 104 degree fever, vomiting, postpartum hemorrhage... It. Was. Awful. You can read all about it here, here, and here.

At every prenatal appointment with Adaleigh I brought up the possibility of a VBAC... and every time my obstetrician insisted it was a bad idea. I wanted so badly to experience natural childbirth, the way it's supposed to be, but she convinced me that I would likely have a failed VBAC and another awful birth experience. I continued to question her judgment up until the day of my scheduled cesarean, but I put my trust and faith in her hands until there was no turning back.

I had so much guilt after Logan's birth. Nick always reminded me that before medical intervention, so many more mothers and babies died during labor. He was more than happy with the doctor's advice for a repeat cesarean. He was still traumatized from our first experience, and wanted things to go smoothly without surprises or complications. It was hard for me to imagine never having the natural birth I dreamed of, but I did what was best for me and my family.

Adaleigh's birth was scheduled for 8.8.13. Two short days after Nick returned from annual training in Mississippi with the National Guard. I have no idea what I would have done had I gone into labor early, but luckily we'll never have to know. My OB wanted her born at 39 weeks to minimize the risk of going into labor on my own. My Mom and niece arrived in TN the night before to take care of Logan while we were gone.

On the morning of August 8, Nick and I left the house early for one last meal at IHOP before I was ordered to be NPO. I didn't have nearly the nerves I expected when we were finally only a few hours from meeting our daughter. We went home to pack the last of our bags, showered Logan with love and kisses, and arrived at the hospital for admission just before 11am.

I was admitted straight into a labor & delivery room, which I found odd since there would be no laboring or delivering in there. I filled out paperwork, was started on IV fluids, and Nick and I were left to wait and watch the clock tick by. Just before 2pm the stretcher arrived, and I was wheeled alone into a cold, bright operating room.

Because my cesarean was scheduled, I was given anesthesia via spinal injection rather than an epidural. The poor CRNA attempted my shot 3 times before the anesthesiologist stepped in to make it happen. The pain was minimal, but ended up being the only pain I felt during the entire experience. I was warned by my OB to expect intense pressure and pain as she pulled our little girl out into the world, but I felt nothing. I held my breath until I heard her faint little cries, and a petite 6lbs 8oz Adaleigh Rose was introduced to the world with a head full of dark brown hair.

As the doctor announced her arrival, I could only turn to Nick with the type of look you give someone that has been your whole world for 10 years. She was born at 2:22pm. For those that don't know, my life has revolved around the number 2 for as long as I remember. Logan was born on 2.2.12. I knew I was onto something in those early years of OCD.

The postpartum period was just as I remembered with Logan, expect that the spinal wore off much quicker than the epidural and I was walking the halls as fast as I could get out of bed. I was sore but the pain was manageable.

As much as I resisted a scheduled cesarean, I wouldn't change a thing if I could do it again. There was no stress and no anxiety... just a beautiful day with the people I love welcoming a new ray of sunshine into our lives. There were no surprises, no difficult decisions, and no time to worry about the fate of my little one. For once in my life, I can proudly say I have no regrets.

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