This post has taken me more than a month to write but I love going back and remembering each birth experience where my children have entered my life (outside the womb). Mostly, this is a journalling of my sweet Zavi's arrival into the world, but it also chronicles some of what it's done to me on a deeper level. Read along if you dare ;)
I have put a few pics throughout (not in chronological order) to "spice" up the post.
***WARNING - There will be some birth details throughout this post, so for those who are squeamish, be warned. (It's not actually that bad ;)
Many times in my life I have had to learn that God's plans are not always my plans, and yet, I allow myself to get caught up in what I think is best and frustrated when things don't turn out as I think they should.
Being pregnant with my 3rd baby, I kinda thought I had things figured out. My first baby came via emergency c-section, and my second was born vaginally after a 48 hour labour, and both were born three days past their due date. I thought for sure that these experiences had prepared me for anything, and I was confident that this labour would a) come sooner, b) be faster, and c) be much easier. It's really quite amazing how my third birthing experience could be entirely unique from the other two. It wasn't what I expected at all.
My due date was Dec 9th, but I really was convinced that my baby boy would be born a couple of days early. (Even though my other two were three days late-- foolish ;) I thought I was seeing/feeling signs of pre-labour the week before and, what can I say? I'm an optimist, glass half full kind of girl. By the time I was a week overdue, however, my tune changed. ;)
I had a prenatal appointment three days before my due date and I was hopeful that my Dr would check me and say, "Oh, wow! You're pretty much ready to go. Call your hubby to come meet you at the hospital." (Okay, I wasn't quite THAT optimistic, but I did hope she'd say I was at least 3 cm dilated) When she checked me, though, I was only 1-2cm dilated. She did strip my membranes, but wasn't convinced it had been effective. When I left the office that day, I had to make another appointment for the next week, but I really had no intentions of being at that appointment.
I still clung to the hope that I would have my baby boy by the time his due date rolled around. I sure FELT ready. I felt huge and tired. I did not sleep well for pretty much the entire 2nd half of the pregnancy and chasing two active toddlers around each day, while toting a whole lot of extra weight and bulk, is exhausting.
I didn't have a baby in my arms when my due date came and went, and days crept by incredibly slowly as I over-analyzed every feeling/sensation in my body. With my first two babies, when labour started, it STARTED and never quit until baby was born. Each of those times, I lost my plug shortly after contractions started. This time, though, I lost my plug very gradually over the course of a week and a half. I had cramping and what I would consider to be preliminary contractions that started and stopped several times over a week or so.
At 4 days overdue, I begrudgingly went to that prenatal appointment I had thought I would never be at. I did have hope, however, that I would be very dilated and she could tell me that labour was very quickly forthcoming. Not the case. I believe her words were, "a snug 2 cm dilated." Very disheartening. Mitch had come with me to that appointment because we were hoping that if nothing else, when she stripped my membranes again, things would be kick-started and we would be well on our way to having our third baby in our arms. We even brought the hospital bags, just in case.
Mitch and I went to Midtown Plaza Mall and walked around for over an hour after that appointment, trying to do something pro-active ;) It was flipping cold outside, so I had been unable to get out and walk much. You're thinking, why didn't you just suck it up, bundle up and walk anyway? But what you're not factoring in, are the two toddlers who complain about the cold and can't be left alone in the house, and the massive belly that made it impossible to close zippers on jackets. I had one or two large sweaters that I could stretch around my bulk, but it was only a short distance down the driveway before the draft that came up under the sweater would chill the underside of my belly and send me back in the direction of warmth.
Anyway, we had lunch in the mall and walked the 2nd level circuit many times. I'm sure if I could have been a bystander watching myself, it would have been hilarious. Huge pregnant lady desperately speed walking (waddling) the loop with husband in tow. ;)
When planning for the month of December and making our Schultz Family Farm work schedule, we didn't count on an 8-day overdue baby. We scheduled several days off for Mitch on the week leading up to and following my due date. So, going into overtime was not our ideal situation, but it did give Mitch plenty of time to stew along with me, waiting for our sweet boy's arrival. We missed some different Christmas events because we were scared to commit to anything and frankly, I wasn't always up for it. This was a perfect example of how little control we have over our circumstance.
The one productive action that came from that final prenatal appointment was that I was put on a list to be called for induction on Tuesday, Dec. 17th. In the months leading up to this, as I had thought and wondered what this third birthing experience would be like, I had never even considered induction to be part of the equation. With both Jett and Kalena, my body went into labour on its own and they were BOTH born only 3 days late. This was new territory for me and I wasn't thrilled. I've heard too many stories about times where the induction doesn't "take" and women are in labour for days, or there are complications because their body just isn't ready to cooperate. I prayed like crazy that I would go into labour over the weekend so that I would not need to be induced, but I guess that was not the plan.
On Monday, one week past my due date, I had a rather emotional day. I fought back tears much of the day. Besides being so DONE with being pregnant, I was convinced I wasn't feeling my baby move much and I was worried that something was wrong. I'm sure that hormones were also a major player in the emotional game that day and poor Mitch, he didn't know what to say to me. I was just SO ready to meet little Zavier.
So on Tuesday, when a nurse from RUH called me and asked me if I was ready to come in and be induced that day, I was relieved. We quickly explained to the kids what was happening and packed them up to go to grandpa and grandma's. We threw our bags into the truck and went in to the hospital.
Now, I'm going to pause this birth tale to write about a conversation I had with my firstborn leading up to this point. Often, I am blown away by the understanding and depth of thought my 3 year old boy demonstrates. Yes, I'm talking about Jett. ;) For those of you who have only thought of him as a little tornado, believe it! He is often very sweet and perceptive.
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| Jett was instantly smitten with his little brother. Lena has taken a little longer to "warm up" to him ;) |
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On the day after our my due date, Mitch and I went to a Christmas appreciation dinner put on by our feed sales company at The Granary in Saskatoon. (When we received the invite for the dinner several weeks prior, I didn't think we'd be in attendance...) My parents watched the kids for us and as we were dropping them off, I told the kids we'd be back for them in a few hours unless the baby decided to come. Jett got a funny look on his face and said, "Mom, God decides when the baby will be born." I was taken aback by his comment, but couldn't argue with it. "You're right, my boy." I assured him.A couple of days later, Jett and I were snuggling in front of the TV (Yes, he's a snuggler, too!) and I made some sort of comment about how I wish the baby would hurry up and come out of my tummy. Jett tilted his head back to look at me and said, "Mommy, if I was God, I would tell the baby that it's time to come out." Okay, so his understanding of the process is a little skewed, but my heart was melting. ;)
On that Tuesday, after getting the call to come in for induction, I told the kids that mommy and daddy were going to the hospital so the doctors could help the baby come out. Jett right away looked confused/concerned and piped up, "But mommy, why are the doctors going to help the baby come out? I thought God decides when babies should come." From the mouths of babes... Leave it to my three year old to strike me in the guilt gut. I explained to him that God gave some people special gifts to be doctors and He uses them for His work sometimes. "Do the doctors have God in their hearts?" Jett went on to ask, and I didn't know what to say. I assured him that some of them likely do, and thankfully, he left it at that. Lord help me when that boy becomes a teenager and has even more difficult questions for me to answer!
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Mitch and I got to the hospital at about 10:30 and "checked in" to maternal registration. The drive in to the city felt strange. When we had gone in to RUH to have Kalena, I remember feeling a sense of deja vu. For both Jett and Lena, we drove in to the hospital in the middle of the night and both times I was definitely in labour and timing/breathing through contractions as we hurried in. This time was different. We were going in with the expectation that we wouldn't be returning home again without our baby, but I wasn't in labour (I did have some cramping, but I'd been having that off and on for weeks) and it was daylight! Things didn't feel familiar even though this was my third child.
We waited in the waiting room at maternal registration for over 2 hours until a nurse finally came to tell us that they had a room ready for us in Labour and Delivery. "Hurry up and WAIT" was definitely the theme of our whole December, so we were well accustomed to waiting. Our nurse had just gone on lunch break, so we were told that we might as well go grab a bite to eat, too. ;)
Shortly after 1pm, we met our nurse in Labour and Delivery and got the ball rolling at long last. I was three cm dilated when she checked me which makes me think that maybe the cramping I'd been having that morning was the beginning stages of labour.
Before starting, our nurse put the monitor on me and ran a test strip to ensure that baby's heart rate was good and strong; which, thankfully, it was. I had an IV of oxytocin dripping into me by 1:30pm, and contractions started coming on more regularly but not terribly intense to begin with. They start with a very low dose of oxytocin; 2 ml, I think. The dosage gets increased by 2 ml every half hour or so, to increase the intensity of contractions. Nurses can raise the dosage up to 25 ml before a Dr has to give the okay to continue up as high as 40 ml. My body was ready for labour and very receptive to the oxytocin, so my dosage never went higher than 16 ml.
I was checked by a resident at about 3pm and I was only slightly more than 3cm dilated, but the dose of oxytocin was still quite low. She tried to break my water to get things going, but it wasn't low or "bulged" enough that she could reach and effectively knick it, so my water stayed intact.
I was determined to stay as mobile as possible while I was in labour. With both Jett and Kalena, I was in the bed for most of the time. I feel as though the pain is much more manageable if I can move while breathing through contractions, though, so I asked our nurse if I could use the mobile monitor. Mitch and I walked the hallways for almost an hour and I'm convinced that the activity helped to speed up labour. I then bounced on the birthing ball for a good long while after that. My dose of oxytocin was up to 16 ml sometime around this point and contractions were much more frequent and intense. I was still up and moving around, though, which made managing the pain much easier.
My friend Carlena works as a nurse in Labour & Delivery and she had a break in her schedule where she could come visit with me in the late afternoon for a while. It gave Mitch a chance to go get a bite to eat, which was great. When we were labouring with Kalena, I don't think Mitch ate or drank anything for more than 12 hours.
We waited in the waiting room at maternal registration for over 2 hours until a nurse finally came to tell us that they had a room ready for us in Labour and Delivery. "Hurry up and WAIT" was definitely the theme of our whole December, so we were well accustomed to waiting. Our nurse had just gone on lunch break, so we were told that we might as well go grab a bite to eat, too. ;)
Shortly after 1pm, we met our nurse in Labour and Delivery and got the ball rolling at long last. I was three cm dilated when she checked me which makes me think that maybe the cramping I'd been having that morning was the beginning stages of labour.
Before starting, our nurse put the monitor on me and ran a test strip to ensure that baby's heart rate was good and strong; which, thankfully, it was. I had an IV of oxytocin dripping into me by 1:30pm, and contractions started coming on more regularly but not terribly intense to begin with. They start with a very low dose of oxytocin; 2 ml, I think. The dosage gets increased by 2 ml every half hour or so, to increase the intensity of contractions. Nurses can raise the dosage up to 25 ml before a Dr has to give the okay to continue up as high as 40 ml. My body was ready for labour and very receptive to the oxytocin, so my dosage never went higher than 16 ml.
I was checked by a resident at about 3pm and I was only slightly more than 3cm dilated, but the dose of oxytocin was still quite low. She tried to break my water to get things going, but it wasn't low or "bulged" enough that she could reach and effectively knick it, so my water stayed intact.
I was determined to stay as mobile as possible while I was in labour. With both Jett and Kalena, I was in the bed for most of the time. I feel as though the pain is much more manageable if I can move while breathing through contractions, though, so I asked our nurse if I could use the mobile monitor. Mitch and I walked the hallways for almost an hour and I'm convinced that the activity helped to speed up labour. I then bounced on the birthing ball for a good long while after that. My dose of oxytocin was up to 16 ml sometime around this point and contractions were much more frequent and intense. I was still up and moving around, though, which made managing the pain much easier.
My friend Carlena works as a nurse in Labour & Delivery and she had a break in her schedule where she could come visit with me in the late afternoon for a while. It gave Mitch a chance to go get a bite to eat, which was great. When we were labouring with Kalena, I don't think Mitch ate or drank anything for more than 12 hours.
Visiting with Carlena made the time pass quickly and by the time Mitch returned shortly after 6pm, it was time to get checked again and I was 6cm dilated. My water still had not broken, but it was now definitely within reach and I was informed that things could move very quickly after breaking my water (although there's always the possibility that progress is NOT fast). I was also warned that with the added oxytocin the intensity of the contractions would kick into a whole new realm once my water was broken and that many people choose to get an epidural before breaking the water.
I chose to NOT get the epidural at that point which was not the decision that my husband wanted me to choose. He didn't say anything, but I could see it in his eyes. I could also see the "Why the heck did you not get the epidural??!!" in his eyes as the contractions intensified immensely pretty much immediately after my water was broken. I really thought things would move rapidly and that as long as things did progress fairly quickly, I could handle the intense pain knowing the end was near.
The pain from those contractions was unlike anything I have ever felt in my life and by 7 pm, I wasn't sure how much more I could handle of those mega-watt contractions. I asked the nurse to check me, and when I wasn't much more than 6, I asked for the epidural. It seemed as though progress was not being made as rapidly as I had hoped for and my flesh felt weak.
It didn't take long for the anesthesiologist to get there; 5-10 minutes at most. In that short time though, I was up to 7 cm dilated. I was told that they could still do the epidural and they got me into the sitting position rather awkwardly as contractions were coming at amazingly high frequency. He quickly had me prepped to put in the epidural, but I had nasty contractions during that time that he would wait through.
My body started bearing down and pushing through the contractions and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I never thought I would be a screamer, but the pain/sensation was SO intense that I couldn't even control the wail that escaped my lips each time another ridiculously frequent contraction hit me like a freight train. I now understand the term "ring of fire," which I was introduced to with a vengeance as I tried to hold still for the epidural. If I had any sort of clear thought process at that point, I should have told the anesthesiologist to stop because there was no point to his efforts, the end was near. But I had NO control over my body and it's response to everything in that moment.
He did get the epidural in, but by the time I was rolled onto my back, my feet were instantly placed in the stirrups and it wasn't more than 5 contractions before my sweet Zavi was out. I don't know if the epidural even touched me. I felt absolutely everything. (They turned it off right away).
I am blown away by how labour can feel so overwhelmingly intense and then, in a split moment, my baby is out, on my chest, and there is SUCH a feeling of relief. Truly incredible.
Zavier Shane Schultz
Born December 17th at 7:45pm
@ RUH Saskatoon
Weight: 8 lbs 5 oz
Height: 21 inches
Perfect.
The moment Zavi, was out and I was no longer pregnant, I felt great. I feel as if this was by far my best birthing experience, even though I certainly felt the most pain. Mitch would likely disagree with me because I think he found the whole intense pain/screaming thing rather traumatizing.
I must also mention that I have a truly amazing husband who is very supportive and a quintessential part of the whole birthing process for me. Mitchell Shane Schultz, there is no one I'd rather bring a baby into the world with. I love you.
We were very happy with all of the nurses who helped us throughout this birth experience and we were fortunate to get the Victorian Suite, although luck had nothing to do with it. After Zavi was born, a nurse came and congratulated us and then informed us we got the suite. "They did??" Another nurse sounded surprised. I think it's probably not normal for the Vic Suite to still be available at 7:45pm, but it pays to have friends in high places. ;)
SO... There you have it. Zavier's entrance into the world recorded so I'll always remember.
Going 8 days overdue was undoubtedly the most difficult part of this whole experience for me and I have a newfound genuine sympathy for any woman who goes a week or more past her due date. I know there are women who wait quite a bit longer than my 8 days and I have no idea how they stay sane.
I never thought I would be induced. The birth process has not gone the way that I expect it should ever for me, and I really should have learned by now to just trust God and HIS plan for me. I never thought I would have a c-section. I never thought I would miscarry. I never thought I would labour for days. Now induction can be added to the "I never thought I'd..." list.
I did struggle with being okay with the induction. On one hand, I felt guilty for going in to be induced. Was this me NOT trusting God? (The words of my son did not help this) On the other hand, holding out and waiting triggered a pride issue within me. I have a new perspective. I admire the women who are able to "stick it out" and wait for their body to go into labour on its own, but I also admire the women who choose to be induced (whatever the reason may be) and are confident to stand by their decision. I am 100% glad that I went in to be induced and it went better than I could have hoped.
Having children is an incredible exercise in learning to trust God more. The only pregnancy where I did not fear for the life of my child growing inside of me, was the baby that I miscarried between Jett and Kalena. I don't believe that has anything to do with the reason I miscarried, but I find it interesting. I find that my view of God is challenged in the process of "bringing forth life". I struggle with a fear of what God may call me to walk through rather than clinging to the knowledge that He loves me and wants what's best for me. My view/perspective is so small. I am thankful to serve a God who is in control of the BIG picture.
I am thankful for another healthy baby added to our family. God has been good to me.
