Chase Alexander was born on Friday, August 3rd at 4:57pm. He was 6lbs 1oz and 19 inches.
His birth, the way it happened, and his life, is a blessing... he almost didn't make it.
While it had been my plan to wait to go in to labor to start maternity leave from work, I had decided earlier in the week he was born that I needed to take a few days to prepare for his birth. While his bedroom was ready, and we as his parents were eagerly waiting his arrival, I still felt the need to take some time. I didn't know until 2 days later why I needed this, why Chases life depended on it.
I arrived at my weekly appointment with my midwife around lunchtime on Wednesday August 1st. Everything was fairly normal. Since I was 39 weeks, we discussed what would happen within the next few weeks if labor did not start on its own... stress tests, monitoring, and eventually induction. I left the office 75% effaced, not at all dilated, but convinced that I would have a natural birth within the next few days. My birth plan was all laid out and printed. I had been telling myself all along that there was nothing to worry about, I was MADE for this. My body, as a woman, was made to birth babies. Everything would happen the way it was supposed to.
Friday morning arrived, the day before his due date (based on his measurements, not on my last menstrual period.) After breakfast, and after my husband had left for work, I realized that I had not yet felt Chase move that morning. I didn't think too much of it, since his movements had gotten fewer and far between since he dropped 2 weeks earlier. But then by 11am I became concerned that I had still not felt him move that day. I drank something sweet (I cant even remember what it was at this point) and laid on the couch, poking at my belly, shifting him from side to side, waiting to feel him move. I did this for a 1/2 hour, and there was still nothing. My immediate thought was that I was just being overly concerned, he was fine. Sometimes babies shift in a way that moms cant feel them move... I'd read story after story about it. So I continued with my day. Until around 1:45pm, when my blood sugar bottomed out...
What does that mean? I have had multiple doctors ask me that. I have had people with blood sugar issues ask me, and people who have never had an issue ask me. What does that mean? Before getting pregnant, that meant that I suddenly felt jittery and hot and nauseous all at the same time. But I hadn't had an experience with my hypoglycemia since becoming pregnant. In fact, any issues - physical, digestive, etc - i'd ever had completely stopped during my whole pregnancy. I immediately got online, googling "Low Blood Sugar at 39 weeks pregnant." The results had nothing to do with what I was feeling, and there were no suggestions to call my doctor. Blood sugar, pregnancy and doctors didnt seem to relate unless someone was diagnosed with gestational diabetes (for which I was negative.) So I ate and drank... again something sweet... as I had always done to correct my blood sugar. I had always dealt with this on my own, and always fixed it. "I should be fine in a few minutes," I thought. But my mind was racing, my brain kept flashing over all the horrible outcomes that could come from this situation. I had to distract myself, so I went to the grocery store. I was thinking too much in to this.
By 2:30 I was still shaky, still nauseous. Standing in the freezer aisle trying to fight the hot flashes, I called my midwife, and got a receptionist in training. I explained my situation and asked if I should come in. She put me through to the nurse, which was actually a voicemail where I left a message. As I hit end on my cell, I headed for the check out, for my car, and then for my doctors office. Something was wrong and I needed to find out what.
I arrived, and was in with one of my midwives by 3pm. After testing my blood sugar levels, which tested normal, I relayed my experience and she listened for my babys heartbeat. His heart beat was loud and clear, everything seemed fine. She asked if I had felt him move yet, I shook my head no. She pointed to my rounded belly and said she had just seen him move, so it was strange that I had not felt it. "I am probably just being overly cautious, but hearing his heartbeat makes me feel better. He's fine." I got off the table, both of us convinced that it was safe for me to head home. Then my Midwife decided, just for the heck of it, to hook my belly up to a system to monitor his heart rate and movements. I laid there alone, listening to his heart rate, and watching the numbers... fall. And keep falling, and falling until alarms went off, screeching that something was in fact, wrong.
My midwife came in, convinced that he had moved away from the monitors. She repositioned and reset the system and took the reading that had previously been recorded. Little did I know, she was taking them to one of the doctors, voicing concern for the readings. Within a few minutes, my midwife re-entered the room, "We need to go ahead and do a c-section, we need to get him out, his readings are too flat," she said.
Having read multiple studies where doctors were constantly performing c-sections to fit their personal time table, and not having wanted a c-section, my next question was this: "You're going to do a c-section, rather than just inducing me?" I wanted to make sure I was protecting my body and the development of my baby. I surely didn't want the scar.
"Yes," her kind eyes reassured me, "We cant push a baby out of a closed cervix, and he needs to come out now. Some babies just need to be lifted in to this world."
Some babies just need to be lifted in to this world. Mine was one of them.
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