If you haven't read Layla's Pregnancy Story, read about that HERE first.
Well, I had just about the entire birth story completely
type out, and blogger somehow deleted it.
That was back when Layla was still a newborn. I was so mad, that I haven’t attempted to
rewrite it. My memory is now not nearly
as clear as it was then, but I wanted to write what I can remember of her birth story
so that I can have it documented.
When I arrived home from my doctor’s appointment, I finished packing up my bags. Adam came home from work, and together we scarfed down some Wendy’s. I hugged August and Jude and told them that daddy and I were headed to the hospital to get baby sister
out of my belly. My mom stayed at our house with the boys.
As I thought about how the induction would go, I was very
nervous. I always carry our children to
40 weeks (and they always have to be kicked out for one reason or another) so I
was very nervous about being induced at 38 weeks and 2 days. I knew this is what needed to happen, so I
wasn’t worried that we were making the wrong decision, I was just worried that
my body would not respond appropriately.
I worried about the induction not working and having to have a
c-section. Most of all though, I was
worried we may have waited too late.
As we arrived at the hospital, Adam prayed for us as we sat
in the car. This was the same hospital
that we had Jude, and I remembered us sitting in that parking lot and praying,
just 2 years ago. We gathered up our
things and headed in.
Apparently the doctor’s office did not call the hospital and
tell them we were coming. Registration
took a long time, and we were already late.
By the time we reached the nurse’s station, we were an hour late! I saw my doctor talking with a nurse behind
the counter, and I tried to smile at him.
He did not acknowledge me. I was
afraid we would be starting this induction off on the wrong foot!
The nurse walked us back to our room. She asked me how far along I was, and I told
her 38 weeks and 2 days. She wanted to
know why we were taking the baby out so early.
Cholestasis was my answer.
Just as they like to do, we got right down to business. I went into the bathroom and changed into the
ever so flattering hospital gown.
When I came out, I met my nurse who would be taking care of
me. She was an older nurse, and she said
she actually wasn’t supposed to be working tonight. She got called in because they were so
busy. I wasn’t thrilled with this news,
because I was afraid it would mean that she would be in a bad mood for having
to come into work, so I decided I would be as friendly as I could be, so that
maybe she wouldn’t hold it against me! Thankfully, she would end up being one
of the sweetest and most caring nurses I’ve ever had.
She started off with all of the questions that they ask
you. This part always takes
forever. Just as she was getting started
with them, my OB came into the room. My
heart stopped for a minute because I had just gotten there. I really wasn’t ready to get things going
just yet! This was sometime around 7:45 p.m.
“Well, we thought maybe you weren’t gonna make it. We thought you had gone out to some fancy
restaurant or something,” he joked as he walked in.
“I’m sorry we’re late,” I answered. “Adam had to get off work, and then we had to
make it through registration.”
“That’s alright,” he said.
“I’m just gonna be sleeping in my room they’ve got here for me. But before I can go sleep, we’ve gotta get
this baby on her way.”
With that, he started putting his gloves on and asked the
nurse for the amnio-hook.
I felt the color drain from my face as I felt the lump in my
throat growing larger.
It didn’t hurt when I had my water broken with Jude. But I wasn’t sure how it was going to go this
time. This time, I was just not mentally
prepared.
Before he inserted the amnio hook, he checked me. And it HURT.
“How many centimeters did the midwife say you were yesterday?”
he asked.
“Three.” I grunted.
“Hmm, that’s generous I think. You must have closed up a little. I would say
maybe 2.5”
Oh great, I thought.
He then inserted the amnio hook. It hurt.
It hurt BAD. I think he may have
scraped me with that thing.
After a second or two, water came pouring out. I looked down.
All I saw was green and brown water with black in it.
It was meconium.
“Alright, it seems that the baby has already had her first
bowel movement. I don’t want you to
worry. When she is born, she may not
cry. We’ll have a team in here, and
they’ll probably have to take her as soon as she’s out. She may have this stuff stuck in her throat
or lungs.”
I felt the panic rising up from my chest.
I looked over at Adam.
I wondered if he remembered me telling him about this. It’s one of the big risks with Cholestasis,
and the cause for a lot of stillborn babies.
Cholestasis causes the baby to be in distress because they have reduced
oxygen due to the failing placenta. When
babies in the womb are in distress, they poop.
Since they are “breathing” in the womb, there is a big likelihood of the
baby inhaling the poop into their throat and lungs, which can cause the baby to
die.
“Alright, let’s just see how it goes with breaking your
water, and we’ll go from there. Call me
if you need anything, I’m going to bed!”
And with that, my OB left the room.
I was already soaking the waterproof pads and everything
with the nasty water coming out of me.
TMI (as if this entire story is not TMI), it smelled terrible.
After the nurse finished her questions, she came over to set
me up with the IV port. Just like with
Jude’s birth, I requested the IV port with no fluids. I request this because I don’t want to be
tied to a pole, and I also don’t want to have to pee every 5 seconds. I’ve also read that a lot of times when you
receive IVs, the baby will be born weighing more than they normally would have
because they are carrying more fluid from the IV. Then, after they are born and lose weight, it
looks like they have lost a lot of weight, when normally they wouldn’t have
lost that much. The weight loss is
exaggerated because the baby came out weighing more due to the IV fluids. Then the baby has to be supplemented with
formula due to hospital policy. Long
story short, I forgo the fluids.
I warned her that my veins are extra squirty. You may remember that from both August and
Jude’s births. Whenever they stick me,
the blood shoots from my veins like a geyser.
I started sweating like crazy as she cleaned off the area
for the port. I looked away and told
Adam not to watch as she began to stick it in.
I can’t stand it when he watches.
It makes me nervous and angry for some reason.
Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt! Just a little sting. There was no eruption of
blood all over the bed and floor. I was
so relieved!
From this point on, things are a little hazy in my
memory. I remember the time was passing
faster than I felt it should. I was
afraid the doctor wouldn’t give me enough time to let me do this without
intervention, so each contraction was welcomed for me. At this point, contractions were usually
still 5 minutes apart, but sometimes would stretch to 10 minutes apart. Some of the time was spent sitting in the
bed, hooked up to the monitors, and some of the time was spent connected to the
wireless monitor, which failed more often than it worked.
We had one visitor during the evening. Our pastor’s wife came and brought coffee for
Adam. We really enjoyed her visit, and
it helped to pass the time. My contractions were hurting, but not so much that
I couldn’t talk, walk, or sit through them.
The constant gush of green and brown fluid was more than uncomfortable.
It was a nasty reminder of how scary this situation might be.
I remember things taking a turn around 12:00 a.m. The contractions got closer, coming every 2-3
minutes. I could no longer focus on tv or
talking, and I needed Adam close. The
nurse came in periodically to check on us, always wanting to help, but I didn’t
have anything she could do. She was very
sweet and wanted to be helpful.
Unfortunately, all I could ask was for more pads and towels. I was a leaky mess!
I spent the next few hours bouncing on the ball, standing
up, swaying back and forth, sitting up in the bed, sitting on the toilet. Lights out, trying to be relaxed. I even tried sleeping, that was definitely
not happening.
At this point, it had been over 4 hours since my water had
been broken. I had requested not to have
any dilation checks because I found it to be painful, and it’s known to not
really be an indicator of anything, only of progress or lack of progress. My hope was to make it all the way to
delivery with no checks.
The time between 12:00 a.m. and 3:00 a.m. was
excruciating. Contractions were continuing
every 2 to 3 minutes. I have no specific
memories from this 3 hour period. I just
remember the contractions were unbearable.
I was desperately searching for the feeling of transition. It had to be close.
I was so tired, so exhausted. I honestly had not slept in weeks. Every night, I would finally fall asleep
around 5:00 a.m. The itching had been so
bad that all I could do was distract myself from it. It was torture to lay in bed and try to
sleep. So every single night, I would
sweep the floor and mop the floor. I
don’t know why, I just craved a clean floor, and it kept my hands busy so that
I wouldn’t scratch. The night before my
induction, I did not sleep at all. Not at all. So at this point, I had been
awake for almost 48 hours.
Finally, around 3:00 a.m., I asked the nurse to check
me. I thought I had to be close. I had to be at least an 8, if not
further. I decided that if I was not at
least a 7, I would get an epidural. I
needed sleep. I knew once the baby
arrived, it would be around the clock feedings, and I would be recovering. We also didn’t know what kind of treatments
she could be getting, so it could be a long few days or weeks coming up. I decided I needed sleep.
The nurse seemed ready to see where things were. She had been watching me labor naturally for
the last 7 hours. I didn’t tell her my
plans of the epidural, I didn’t want her to be bias in her estimation of how
far along I was. I knew she was
supporting me either way, but she really had been an excellent natural labor
nurse. Very hands off, which is how I
like it.
Her face told me what I already feared.
“You’re at 5 centimeters,” she said.
“Five? I’m only at a
5?” I answered.
“Yes.”
“I want an epidural.
I need to sleep. I’ve been going
at this for over 7 hours, and I’m exhausted.
I’ve only gained about 2, maybe 3 centimeters in 7 hours. I need to sleep.”
The nurse and Adam tried to encourage me, but they could see
it in my face, I needed to sleep. The
nurse hooked me up to the bag of IV fluids. I asked her how many bags I would need before
I could get the epidural. I was ready
right then. She said I would only need
one bag, and that she would turn it all the way up so I could get the fluids
quickly.
Within 20 minutes or so, the anesthetist came into the
room. I recognized her from Jude’s
birth. I didn’t have an epidural or any drugs with him, but this was the same
lady that I had seen last time.
After I signed all of the paperwork, I sat in the bed and
slumped all the way over so she could insert the epidural.
This part was horrible.
I still gag and my back gets sweaty when I think about it.
She gave me a numbing shot, which did hurt but it hurt just
about as much as any other shot.
Then she started trying to get the epidural in. I felt it go in, and then I felt a lot of
pressure. Like a lot. I felt her hammering (yes, hammering!) it
into my spine.
At this point, I was slumped over with sweat literally
dripping off my face into the floor. I
was completely soaked in sweat. I continued
to feel her jamming it into my spine.
“Ok,” I heard finally, “Go ahead and sit up.”
I sat up.
Adam was shocked to see how sweaty I was. He didn’t look so great himself. I later learned that he was getting light
headed and trying not to pass out.
“Ok, I need you to slump back over,” I heard the anesthetist
say. “I’m going to have to redo it.”
Oh. My. Word. WHAT
THE HECK?!! %$#@!@@$%@@
Yes, she pulled that whole big needle out and tried
again. I think I started crying, but I
can’t remember. I didn’t know what were
tears and what was sweat. The pressure
was horrible.
“You have a very bony spine,” she explained. I’m having
trouble getting it past one of your bones.”
I almost fainted.
After some trial, error, and force, she said it was in.
My gown and the bed were completely soaked in sweat. She gave me a dial and showed me how I could
turn up the epidural if I wanted to. I
had never heard of being able to do that.
It must be new since my epidural with August 3 years ago.
She left the room really quickly when she was finished. I was just glad it was done. I looked at the clock, and it was around 3:45
at this point.
After the epidural had some time to take effect, the nurse
placed the catheter. I absolutely detest
catheters. I had one with August but
with no epidural! They had to give me
one since I was on magnesium sulfate.
They later gave me an epidural at 8 cm, but for the catheter I had no
numbing. It was awful. Nightmarish.
I was thankful that this time the epidural at least took the edge off of
having the catheter placed.
Adam came over and sat next to my bed as the nurse quietly
left the room. Just as I thought I was
about to get some rest, my body started shaking. Convulsing might actually be a better
word. My upper body was shivering, but I
wasn’t cold. It felt like
adrenaline. My lower body and legs were
bouncing and squirming all over the bed.
I had no control over my body whatsoever.
“What is going on?
What is wrong with me?” I asked Adam, panicked.
“I don’t know honey.
Are you cold? You’re shaking!” he
replied.
“No, I’m not cold. I
can’t stop my legs. They won’t be
still!”
Adam called the nurse in.
I was sure it was the epidural.
Some kind of side effect.
We told the nurse what was going on, and she could see my
body violently shaking, out of control.
She told us it was the adrenaline and that I needed to try to relax.
I don’t remember much about the order of events or the
comings and goings of the nurse. I just
remember I started praying out loud.
Crying and begging God to stop my body from shaking. I have suffered from Restless Leg Syndrome
for as long as I can remember, so I don’t know if it was just acting up on the
extreme or what was going on. Adam
thinks it may have been a botched epidural since the nurse was having so much
trouble with it. I continued to cry and
pray out loud.
After what seemed like forever of this, the nurse came in
with some essential oils and some lotion.
She said she borrowed it from one of the nurses. It was Peace from doTERRA. Up until this
point, I had never tried essential oils.
I honestly did not believe that they work and thought they were just a
scented placebo. My nurse asked me if I
would mind if she tried it for my restless legs. I agreed, desperate to try anything. My nurse lifted up the bed sheet and began
massaging the oil into my legs with the lotion.
The scent of the oil was wonderful.
I felt my body relax a little bit.
I still felt shaky when she was done putting the oils on my skin, but it
definitely took the edge off. I now was
having more spread out leg convulsions, rather than continuous.
I’m not sure of the exact time at this point, I have a
distinct memory at 5:40 a.m. I felt very
calm all of a sudden. My legs stopped
shaking. I felt totally miserable being
hooked up to the catheter. I hate
knowing I have one of those things in.
But I felt well enough to snap a picture of Adam sitting in the
chair. I took a picture of myself
because I wanted to remember that moment.
I wanted to remind myself that I would look at that picture later,
remembering where I had been, and it would all be over. I wanted a picture of my face in that moment
because it was the most desperate I think I’ve ever felt in my life. My face looked so sad….so desperate. I took a picture of my hand, taped up with
tubes and ports. 5:41. I wondered how long this would go on.
All of a sudden, I felt her move down. I felt everything change. I felt intense pressure. It came out of nowhere. And it was like my body new it was
coming. One moment I was shaking. The next moment calm. And then this pressure. It was crazy.
I told Adam that I was starting to feel pressure. I could still feel the waves of the
contractions, the comings and goings, but not the sharp pain that used to
accompany them. But wow, the pressure,
it was so intense until finally, I thought she was about to come bursting out
of me! If this sounds anticlimactic,
that’s because it was! It seriously came
out of nowhere.
“ADAM! GET THE
NURSE!!! I NEED TO PUSH!” I yelled.
“What? Are you sure?
How can you tell?”
“I CAN FEEL IT! JUST
CALL HER! SHE’S GOING TO COME OUT!”
I started blowing out, trying not to push while Adam
frantically searched for the remote that calls the nurse. The remote is obviously attached to the bed,
but we couldn’t find it anywhere in the sheets or pillows.
“JUST RUN! GO GET
HER! RUN TO THE NURSE STATION NOW! I HAVE TO PUSH!”
I could tell he didn’t want to do that and that he still
wanted to find the remote.
“ADAM GO NOW.” I was
trying really hard to be patient and not get ugly with my sweet husband. But he seriously did not get how serious I
was.
Finally he ran out the door and down the hallway. Of course once he was out of earshot, I found
the remote. It had been on top of my
pillow, above my head. I pressed the
button to call the nurse.
“Yes?” someone answered.
“I need my nurse! I’m
ready to push!” I answered back.
At this point, I was still trying really hard not to push. But I was fully prepared to have that baby on
my own, alone in that room. I tried to
think of what I would do if the cord was wrapped around her head.
Moments later, Adam and my nurse came running in the
room. She put quickly put some gloves on
and lifted up the sheet, sliding her hand in to check me.
“Yes, you’re complete, and I can already see the head!”
I knew it!
She started getting the stirrups ready as other nurses
started flooding into the room.
“Where is my doctor?
Can I push? I need to push!!!!” I
tried not to yell.
I wish I could go back and see Adam’s face during all of
this. He later told me that he thought
since I had the epidural that I couldn’t feel anything. It’s true that the epidural takes the edge
off of the contractions, but for me, the uncontrollable urge to push was still
there. I think epidurals work
differently depending on the patient, the person giving the epidural, and just
how the epidural lands. My epidural with
August was totally different than this one.
I started bearing down when I felt the urge, but I still
didn’t give it a really good push. I
wanted my doctor to be there!
Minutes passed. The
warmer for the baby was on, the equipment was set up, my legs were positioned,
and nurses filled the room.
“Where is the doctor?” I heard them all whispering.
“He’s not known for getting into a rush,” I heard another
say.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he came in.
He casually walked over to the nurse as she “suited him
up.” He slowly (insert eye roll here)
walked over to the bed, and said, “Alright, are you ready to push?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed.
“Alright, give me a push, let’s see where we are.”
I gave the best push I had.
I screamed as I put everything into it.
Adam looked at me, puzzled. He
later asked me why I was screaming. Once
again, had to explain the epidural. It
just wasn’t the same as August’s.
Another reason why we think the reaction to the epidural was due to a
botched placement.
“Woah, alright here she comes!”
And with that one push, out came her head.
I honestly can’t remember if the cord was around her
neck. I didn’t hear her cry, but I
expected that. They don’t normally cry
with just the head out anyway.
“Alright Amanda, another push!”
With one massive push and a loud scream, I pushed her
out. Our beautiful Layla Abney Hare was
born after 2 pushes, at 6:11 a.m. on October 14, 2015. After 10 hours of active labor, weeks of
sleepless nights with crazing itching, and a month of contractions it was over.
Layla is a name that I have loved for
years. I first heard it when I taught in
a kindergarten classroom. Abney is the
maiden name of Adam’s mother, who tragically passed away 4 years earlier.
The doctor held her up for me. I couldn’t believe how small she looked, but
not small at the same time. Being 2
weeks early, she was my smallest baby, but not by much. She weighed 7 pounds 12 ounces. August was 8 pounds, Jude was 8 pounds 8
ounces. She definitely would have passed
both of them. The doctor’s estimation of
her being over 9 pounds at 40 weeks would have been correct had she made it
that far.
I watched as they carried her over to the warmer. She was still silent. Adam left my side to go see her.
Finally, after some suctioning, I heard a cry.
The most beautiful, resounding, reassuring, desperate cry I’ve
ever heard. I wanted to hold her so badly.
While Layla was being checked out, the doctor helped me
deliver the placenta and checked me for tears.
I thankfully only had one or two small tears, and the doctor only had to
do 2 stitches. The tugging was
unpleasant, but I was happy to have my epidural at that point. Getting stitched up without an epidural is
awful, as I learned from Jude’s birth.
By about 6:25 a.m., the doctor was done and the nurses
started clearing out. I finally got to
hold my sweet baby girl. It was
amazing. She actually smiled, and
I know you would never believe it, but we actually captured it in a
picture. It was a beautiful moment. She seemed so happy to be in my arms and out
of my belly.
Above is a short video clip from shortly after her birth. Hopefully it will play.
I too could not be happier.
She latched right on and nursed like a champ from that
moment on, praise the Lord! I had never
had a newborn nurse so well like she did.
The lactation consultant even came by and watched saying that Layla knew
exactly what she was doing.
We had several friends and family come visit us. It was such a blessing to introduce her to them.
 |
| Proud big brother Jude! He was sick, hence the flushed cheeks |
 |
| And proud biggest brother, August! |
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| Hare, Party of 5! |
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| Our growing family with my mom and dad- Nana and Pa |
We left the day after I had her, although looking back, I wish we had stayed longer. I don’t think I was mentally prepared to
leave. I was still having some anxiety
about the cholestasis, and postpartum hormones are not my friend. But that may be for another post. Postpartum hormones are horrible.
As I finish writing this story, Layla is now 13 months
old. It took me this long. Thank you to those who encouraged me to
finish it. I am relieved to have it
documented. Layla is now a feisty, sassy, loving, snuggly, talkative little girl. We are over the moon in love with this precious girl. Blessed is an understatement. God is GOOD. Thank you everyone for
reading!
