Josiah’s Birth Story

 

Note: I started writing this when my son was almost two weeks old.  True to form in postpartum life, I got interrupted and am just now getting back to it almost two weeks later.  I decided to leave details as they were when I initially started writing even though this will be published when he is nearing one month old. 

I wanted to write this all down the day it happened; I wanted to make sure that I captured every detail perfectly from the very beginning. But postpartum is wild, and as my son approaches almost two weeks old, I am just now getting time to sit and write his birth story as I am waiting for him to wake up for his morning feeding. Normally I would have woken him up by now, but we had a bit of a rough go of things last night after some dreamy nights of sleep, so I am letting him sleep a little longer than usual because we were up a little more than usual last night. We have the pediatrician today at 10:30 which at this point feels like signing up for an 8AM class in college. I am so hoping our little boy has gained back some weight; it’s normal, so normal, I am told, to lose up to 10% of birth weight in the first week of life.  And yet, there are some stipulations about not gaining that oh so normal lost weight back.  We can’t get him circumcised until he gains it back, have to meet biweekly with our lactation consultation (which I’m honestly thrilled about, no qualms here on that one), have to wake him up at night to feed him and have to feed every 1-2 hours in the day.  Yesterday he wanted to feed every 45 minutes at one point and I just said “no, the shop is closed for another 15 minutes!”

Anyways, I am not complaining.  I am loving these days even though they are hard. I prayed for this season of our lives and now it is here, and I am trying to do what everyone says and cherish it.  The days are long but the years are short, so they say.  I want to enjoy this little human at this oh so tiny age instead of wishing him to be bigger, instead of wishing him to sleep through the night and be a little more independent. I want to enjoy these days where he needs us so desperately and where he cries endlessly until we figure out the magic combination of clean diapers, feedings, and gas drops that equals a calm baby.

In any case, we aren’t talking about postpartum today.  We are talking about May 29th, 2025, and the days leading up to his arrival.  We are talking about the labor experience, about delivering him into the world. We are talking about the picture posted above, which isn’t the birth picture I thought we would have to share. I didn’t imagine a selfie of me behind a drape unable to hold my son to my chest because I was retching violently (see the emesis bag by my head? This is a hilarious detail of this photo to me) from adverse effects of drugs administered through my epidural in surgery. I didn’t envision surgery as part of our birth story.  But I knew it was a possibility. I had prepared for every type of birth, though the least so for the type I actually experienced; I thought it so unlikely.  I did all of the things that were supposed to lead to a good labor and a good vaginal delivery. I exercised most days of this pregnancy, even up until the morning of my induction.  I ate healthfully, and ate all of the things that they say help prepare your body for labor (dates, pineapple, pineapple juice, red raspberry leaf tea). We followed instructions for first-time-moms and did something called perineal massage for weeks before delivery to prevent tearing during delivery. I did pelvic floor PT and used my birth ball every night leading up to birth to “get the baby into position.” These things did not matter, and at the end of the day, my son had to be surgically removed from my body; but we’ll get to that part. First, let’s go back. 

At my 36 week appointment, I was told that I would need to be induced at 39 weeks to safely come off of my blood thinners. Blood thinners that I was on, by the way, due to our history of recurrent pregnancy loss and the detection of a genetic polymorphism that was associated with clotting and recurrent pregnancy loss. Scott was thrilled at the idea of induction, thinking we could pick our induction date and plan the schedule perfectly to align with time off of work for him.  Instead, we went a whole week of being told we could schedule a date yet not being able to because the hospital was “booked.” When we were finally given a date, it was the least desirable date for Scott’s schedule, but to me it made no difference. Tuesday May 27th would be the day, and our check in time was 10PM. I’m usually in bed by 9 each night so was horribly disappointed at the late time, but apparently this was standard for inductions. We tried every day leading up to the induction to get the date changed to no avail. 

So on Tuesday, May 27th, we headed to the hospital after making a quick stop at Juicy Lucy’s for Scott to get a Nutella milkshake. I took a tiny sip knowing it would be my last sustenance before being placed on clear liquids yet not wanting to eat too much in case it made me feel ill during labor. When we arrived at the hospital, they told us we would be getting one of the five coveted jacuzzi rooms for labor. I declined the room, even though I did want a tub, because I had been told the rooms were small and that you got a mountain view in the other rooms. When we arrived to our non-jacuzzi room, we realized that we did not have a mountain view. Our nurse offered us a tub room with a mountain view and we accepted and moved rooms. My nurse asked if we had a birth plan, and we told her that we did not-- we were open to whatever needed to happen in order for us to have a healthy baby. For our birth goals, she wrote on the board "HEALTHY," and I smiled at that. 

After getting checked in and going through all the health history details, details of this pregnancy and our other 5 pregnancies, etc., the OB came in to check my cervix and place a balloon to help dilate it.  The balloon was one of my least favorite parts of this experience; it was incredibly uncomfortable, making it difficult to walk (one of my plans for labor— everyone told me to walk a ton to make labor easier), difficult to use the bathroom, and difficult to position in bed without feeling like I was pulling my insides out.  I was told to expect a 24-48 hour labor based on being a first-time-mom with an induction. I felt horribly for Scott who was sleeping on a recliner, and I wondered “how will he do this for multiple nights in a row?”

I was then given a dose of cytotec to “ripen the cervix” and thus began labor around 11:30PM.  The contractions started quickly and while Scott slept, I breathed and labored through the contractions that were supposed to be “the easy ones, just like period cramps.” I don’t really have period cramps but I had cramps following my D&Cs that I imagined it would feel like. It was slightly more intense than that.  A few hours later, without any sleep thus far in the night, I was give a second dose of cytotec. My contractions were progressing appropriately and they were pleased with the pace of them.  When morning came and day shift came in, my nurse pulled my balloon out, expecting me to be dilated to 4-6cm.  When Dr. Gilmer came in to check, however, I was only 3cm, and was told my cervix and baby were “very high,” meaning we weren’t close to being ready for anything.  Dr. Gilmer had planned on breaking my water but told me it couldn’t be done yet, so she recommended starting Pitocin to get contractions going and then to break my water a little while later. 

Before starting the Pitocin, I was told that I could enjoy one last meal of regular food before switching to clear liquids. Scott went down to the cafeteria and got me a smoothie and a muffin along with some coffee.  I wanted to eat something that wouldn’t make a reappearance in a few hours if I became nauseated during labor.

The Pitocin was initiated and it wasn’t too bad at first. The contractions were doable, and I was able to walk laps around the unit.  I put my Apple Watch on “indoor walk” and tried to get to a mile walking past the medical staff and nursing staff scattered around the unit. There weren’t other patients walking the halls, everyone else seemed to be tucked into their rooms to labor.  Around noon, Dr. Gilmer came back; I was still only 3cm dilated but she said it was time to break my water.  We had figured out that I couldn’t easily tolerate the cervical checks so I was given a small dose of pain medication right before each check which helped enormously. She inserted the amnio hook and broke my water, a painless experience for me, and they told me to sit in bed for 30 minutes while they watched baby boy on the fetal heart monitor to make sure he was tolerating the water breaking ok. 

I was cleared to get up after watching him for 30 minutes, so I released Scott to go get himself some lunch before all the action started, and I walked laps around the unit while he was gone. I was probably within 15 feet of returning to our room when suddenly a huge gush of warm fluid came out of me all over the floor. It was the moment I had always imagined having, the breaking of my water in the Walmart parking lot, but it was in the hospital in the middle of the hallway with no one around to help.  I thought my water had already “broken” and didn’t know more fluid could come after that.  I waited patiently, completely soaked, until someone walked by. I cautioned them to stay away from the area surrounding me on the floor but asked if they could get a nurse or someone to help.  My nurse ran over with a housekeeper and they kindly cleaned up the mess and got me a dry gown and socks. When Scott returned from lunch, I told him the story which we both found quite funny.

From there, things started progressing at a more rapid pace.  I didn't leave my room again, as I was starting to have more frequent and intense contractions.  I also started experiencing a new sensation, intense lower back pain that I suspected might be "back labor." I had heard of this but didn't know much about it; I asked my nurse for some recommendations on how to manage it.  After laboring with her recommendations on the birth ball and with Scott applying counter pressure for a while, I finally decided it was time to try the jacuzzi.  My nurse filled it with warm water and I lowered myself in.  When contractions would hit, Scott took the hand held wand and we would turn the water on as hot as I could tolerate, and he would spray the hot water directly on my lower back where I was having intense pain. We did this for probably an hour until I got way too hot and felt like I needed a break from the jacuzzi, and at this point my contractions were about two minutes apart and I was not getting much relief from pain even with all of the above that we were trying. 

I suddenly realized that it was time for an epidural; I hadn't fully decided if I was going to get one prior to this.  I had told Dr. Gilmer that I likely would, but I wanted to "see what my body could do" without one.  I had prepared for an unmedicated birth as best as one can without knowing what they are signing up for.  But suddenly, I needed the epidural immediately.  I was getting no relief between contractions and nothing that we were trying was working anymore.  Unfortunately, I chose shift change to request an epidural so there was a kind nurse who came in and admitted she knew nothing about me yet but that she would request an epidural on my behalf.  We drained the tub and got me back into bed, and my nurse came back shortly thereafter with the anesthesiologist.

I also knew relatively what to expect with epidural placement, but I was not prepared for what it would entail when my contractions were already two minutes apart.  I struggled to maintain the position needed to place the epidural as my recovery in between contractions wasn't long enough to stay in the right position.  They attempted twice before telling me that they were hitting bony spurs and that I must have some sort of arthritis in my spine, nurse's back probably.  At this point, I was in so much pain and was starting to feel despair that I would have to endure the rest of labor with this unrelentless back pain and no hope for relief with medication.  I started sobbing, and everyone in the room kindly tried to encourage me, to say that I was doing so well, to help me calm down.  

The third attempt at placing my epidural was successful and I was helped to lie down to let the medication take effect and to watch baby boy on the fetal monitor.  Dr. Veazey, the nightshift OB, came in and told me I was dilated to 6cm and she expected we would be pushing before her shift ended in the morning.  Scott asked her if he could help catch the baby, and she told him that she would allow him to catch Josiah hand over hand with her.  At this point, Scott and I decided we should try to rest while I was pain-free so that we could prepare for pushing.  Dr. Veazey came back again and told me that we were at 8cm and to prepare to push within a few hours. We went to sleep to rest as much as we could for the big show. We were suddenly woken by a team of nurses who came rushing in flipping lights on saying that baby wasn't doing well; they started working together to turn me on my side, to stop the Pitocin, and to start a bolus of IV fluids.  They told me Dr. Veazey was in another delivery but would be there soon, and they started prepping me for an emergency C-section.

Dr. Veazey rushed in from the delivery she had just finished and started talking very quickly, asking me all of the consent questions for surgery-- would I accept blood products, did I consent to medications being administered through my epidural, did I understand the risks of surgery, etc.  I was crying at this point and just said yes to everything, I just wanted this baby out quickly and safely.  She explained that the baby's heart rate had dropped into the 60s and was sustaining there, that he wasn't tolerating my contractions. As she was speaking, the fetal heart monitor started making sounds and speeding up again.  She looked up and said "looks like he's doing better with the Pitocin off.  Let's do this, let's watch his strip for the next 30 minutes.  If he dips down at all, we need to go to C-section.  If he does OK, we can evaluate how to proceed." 

She and the entire team who had rushed into my room left and turned the lights out, leaving Scott and I in the dark but looking at each other as I rested on my left side where they wanted me to remain to improve blood flow to baby.  I was crying and told Scott I was scared, that I didn't think I could go through with the vaginal delivery anymore knowing that he wasn't doing well.  He prayed for us and we talked through our options; we had already had this conversation before we had gotten to this point-- we had already said in our calm, rational moments at home that we would elect for a C-section if either Josiah or myself were in danger.  

When Dr. Veazey returned to the room, she said that the good news was that Josiah had done well during his 30 minutes on the monitor; however, as soon as they stopped tracing for the thirty minutes, I had another contraction and his heart rate dipped down again.  We asked her for a recommendation at this point, and in my head I started calculating that we were heading for surgery. Her next words confirmed this; she was concerned that he was not going to tolerate coming through the birth canal based on how he was responding so far to my contractions. She recommended a C-section, and Scott and I both looked at each and then back to her to tell her that we were ready for it.  I told her my one condition was that I wanted to see none of it-- no clear drapes, no mirrors.  She understood and said, "in that case, don't look into the lights above you during surgery; you'll be able to see your reflection." I was so grateful she told me that. 

I started feeling nauseated at this point and asked for an emesis bag; my nurse gave me one and as I was vomiting she put zofran in my IV. She was doing all of the paperwork to prep me for surgery as I continued to feel sick.  After what felt like an hour but was probably much less, we rolled down to surgery. Scott had to stay behind to change into his surgical scrubs and would meet me down there. They asked what Pandora station I wanted to listen to, and I asked for Hillsong United.  Everyone in the room knew we were heading into my worst case scenario for this birth-- a C-section.  The reason? I had a history of scar tissue from prior D&Cs that I had to have procedures for to correct in order to maintain a pregnancy. I feared scar tissue from another surgery, I feared not being able to have any other biological children besides this one. But in the moment, Dr. Veazey said the words I needed to hear to remind me that we needed to rescue this baby. 

As they moved me onto the surgical table, I continued to throw up. I was crying and vomiting, yet I heard "I Speak Jesus" come on the station we were listening to and tried to meditate on the words in the song, so grateful that this was the one song I was able to hear during my surgery.  Scott came in next and they offered him a chair to sit in, assuming that he would pass out or not want to watch. Dr. Veazey, knowing his medical background and that he was willing to catch the baby had we experienced a vaginal birth, said "no he's good, he can watch the whole thing. He's good." 

I remember very little of my C-section. I remember crying and throwing up throughout the entire thing and stopping occasionally to ask "am I messing up the surgery?" Dr. Veazey kindly assured me that I wasn't messing anything up, that we were ok.  I remember hearing "time of birth: 1:34AM. Happy birthday baby." I waited to hear him crying, and after some suctioning sounds I heard his little wail.  I couldn't see him at this point, I could only hear him. My dear, sweet husband did something that I will always be grateful for-- he videoed the moment Josiah was born.  I didn't think I would ever want to watch this, but I've watched it many times since he was born and have cried every time.  I felt so absent from my birth experience due to being sick to my stomach, and it was so dear to me that without me even asking, my husband thought to do this.  

Scott brought Josiah over and I saw him for the first time while I was still struggling with nausea.  I turned away from my emesis bag for a moment so that we could get our first family photo. The CRNA offered to take one of us too, and I was so grateful for all of the good care that I received in that operating room.  

We were rolled to the PACU from there, and this little human who was mine was swaddled and tucked into my stretcher to travel with me to PACU.  This wasn't what I had pictured; I pictured delivering vaginally and having this little thing placed on my chest for skin to skin. I didn't get to do skin to skin with him because I was still sick to my stomach, this would come much later. I felt somewhat disconnected from this little creature, like I didn't quite identify him as mine yet. 

Scott was wonderful through all of this.  He felt helpless as I continued to vomit for the next 8 hours despite all nausea medication given to me. I started breastfeeding for the first time in between throwing up.  We finally were taken to the Mother/Baby unit where my dayshift nurse brought me stronger nausea medication that put me to sleep; when I woke up three hours later, I was well-rested and also was able to eat a turkey sandwich.  From that point on, my nausea was gone and I was able to start focusing on this little human and what he needed from me. 

One thing I am so grateful for in all of this was the great care I received.  Our hospital has a poor reputation, but our experiences on L&D and Mother/Baby were phenomenal.  We have plans to nominate two of our nurses for awards, and I plan to write thank you notes to every nurse who cared for me as well as to Dr. Veazey and Dr. Gilmer for their role in my labor and delivery experience.  

There's more I could say, but I'm tired. There is so much more to say about postpartum, but I have two more feedings to get in before bedtime so that I can hopefully get 3-4 hour stretches of sleep tonight. So I will write more some other day, but for now, that's what you should know about how Josiah Scott came into the world in the early hours of May 29th, 2025. He has changed our world forever, and we are so happy that he is here and that the Lord is equipping us as his parents. What a truly wonderful life.