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Alexandria Scout L., Lexi for short, came into the world by C-section at exactly 6:00 am on Wednesday, May 1 in Medicine Hat, Alberta, weighing 7 lbs, 10.5 oz and measuring 19.5 inches. With a head of beautiful, dark, spiky hair, squinty eyes that have only fully opened a handful of times 45 hours after the birth, and her momma's hands and feet, (Read: giant), she is perfect. Of course I'm biased, but it's the truth ;)
Alexandria Scout L. - Birth Story
Tuesday, April 30. My last week at work; baby due in six days. That morning, as I approached the doors to the school at which I'm employed as a teacher, I knew in my heart of hearts that something very exciting was going to happen that day. I wasn't convinced that baby was well on her way; in fact, I'd accepted that I would very likely go overdue. After all, my sister in law was already ten days overdue and today was her induction date. Why wouldn't I go over, too?
All day, I was tired and moody. My job involves so much interaction with students as well as coworkers, but I withdrew - something that had even occurring almost daily throughout my third trimester. Luckily, most of my classes had been set up as work periods during which students could complete assignments, so I only had one full class of direct instruction at the end of the day. During fourth period immediately after lunch, I sat at the teacher workstation in the computer lab, using an online contraction calculator to see if there was any pattern to the mild contractions I'd been experiencing all day. They felt more like period cramps than anything, but I still knew my body was doing something different.
As soon as the 3:20 bell rang, I bolted from the school. I stopped in at No Frills and picked up some ingredients to make a raw Paleo cheesecake, and said cheesecake became my focus when I arrived home. I whipped it up, threw it in the freezer, then cooked a frozen pizza (err, more like burnt it) for my husband and sat down to watch TV. I texted my husband to see if he had any news about his brother's wife's induction, to which he replied, "yup, I'll tell you when I get home". I couldn't wait that long, so I texted his mom, who phoned me right away.
She let me know that my sister in law, who was at this point 10 days overdue, had been turned away from the hospital twice that morning because it was just too busy. I felt horrible for my sister in law; she'd been pretty excited to get the ball rolling. Just as I hung up the phone at about 5:40, my husband came home and sat down on the rocker. As I got up to greet him, I felt a popping sensation kind of in my lower back - it almost felt like a gas bubble - then some fluid.
And then some more fluid.
I kissed my husband on the cheek, ran to the bathroom, threw on a pad, gushed some more, threw on another pad, then... and this is where my denial started setting in - drove to my friend C's house for her Norwex party at 6p m. When I arrived, I felt like I was in a dream. I was still gushing fluid, and people were looking at my belly, asking me how I felt, asking me about my due date.... I was in a daze answering the questions because I knew my water had broken, but I didn't want to admit it! I shook off my denial, ushered my girlfriend into a bedroom and asked, "how do you know when your water has broken?"
She looked at me and asked if mine had. I told her truthfully that I didn't know, but by that time I had to admit that I was pretty much soaked. She laughed at me, told me to at least go to the hospital if I wasn't sure that my water had broken, and sent me on my way. I called my doula on the way home and told her what had happened. She encouraged me to drive straight to the Medicine Hat hospital (I was an hour away in Brooks). Her fear was that if I went to Brooks and I was anywhere near active labour, they wouldn't let me go to Medicine Hat. Here's the story: they won't do breech deliveries in Brooks, but they will in Medicine Hat, so I'd transferred my care there since I was a good candidate for breech delivery.
I arrived home, told my husband "it's go time," and he hopped in behind the wheel. The whole way to Medicine Hat, I was having strong enough contractions that I had to breathe through them. I timed them, and they were about 5 minutes apart and approximately 45-50 seconds long. I was so dazed; I knew I was in labour but it all felt so surreal!
We made it to the Medicine Hat hospital at 7:30 pm and met up with my doula. I was hooked up for a non stress test, they confirmed that I was having regular contractions (no kidding?) and they checked me - four centimetres! I was ecstatic. I felt amazing, full of energy and power. I was ready now - no more denial. Baby was coming!
Over the next couple of hours, I had blood taken, had an IV put in, and was given an epidural. I felt that I didn't need the epidural at that point, but it was part of the breech delivery plan - I'd been strongly encouraged to get the epidural in the case that I eventually needed a C-section, which was a likely scenario. I asked the anesthesiologist a ton of questions, because I really wanted to feel my contractions naturally for as long as possible, but he outlined the risks of waiting to long so I agreed to it.
I was scared beyond belief for the epidural. My doula said the initial injections would feel like four bee stings, but then after that, all I'd feel would be pressure. It went much better than I'd expected. It didn't hurt at all; I just got a weird sensation as the catheter was put in - I described it as my back "feeling drunk".
After about 20 minutes, my contractions were barely noticeable. I accepted at this point that I would no longer labour naturally, but I was so ecstatic about having the opportunity to experience labour in any form since that would not have been an option had I remained in Brooks to deliver.
Over the course of the next few hours, from about 10:30 pm to 2:30 am, contractions stayed 5 minutes apart but grew in strength. My husband, my doula and I played a game of cribbage, chatted idly, and whiled our time away. I was so excited and happy the entire time, so when I was encouraged to nap so I'd have energy when it came time to push, I just couldn't. I probably got about 45 minutes of interrupted sleep over the course of the early morning. My contractions kept picking up, and at one point, my doula wisely reminded me that "if you need some relief, remember, you have the epidural top-up." I wanted so badly to feel my contractions, but they became very unbearable at a point, so I administered the top up. It was perfect. I could still feel painful contractions, but the epidural took the edge off. I was so against using an epidural throughout my pregnancy, but in the reality of my labour situation, it played a very important role and I'm grateful for that.
When 3:30 am rolled around, the doctor checked me and announced that I was fully dilated and effaced! I couldn't believe it! I'd made it to ten centimetres - we were going to meet baby shortly! He told me he didn't want me pushing yet, though, because my contractions were STILL five minutes apart from each other and baby hadn't moved far enough down the birth canal.
The doctor reassessed the situation at 5:00 am, checked my during a contraction, then had me push through the next contraction while he was checking me.
Baby wouldn't budge. Baby was so stuck in my pelvis in the breech position, and the doctor gave me two options: one, oxytocin to strengthen my contractions and hopefully bring them closer together to encourage the baby to move down the birth canal, or two: C-section. I asked the doctor for his opinion on what would be the better option, then I asked for time with my doula and husband to make a decision.
I chose the C-section.
This is how I see it: from day one, my goal had been to labour and deliver naturally. When I was informed that baby was breech at 31 and again at 35 weeks, I was scared and devastated - and so conflicted. I had so many different people - health care professionals, friends, family, acquaintances - tell me a million different reasons why I should book a C-section, investigate breech delivery, and so on... What had felt right in my heart was investigating breech delivery, and with the incredible support and advice from my doula and eventually the obstetrician to whom I switched my care, I was given the opportunity to follow my heart. If I had listened to one doctor's first opinion and immediately booked a C-section, I never would've been given the chance to experience labour.
As I was wheeled into the operating room and the cover was put over me, I was scared, nervous, and really excited. Lance was given scrubs, a mask and a cover for his hair, and he came into the operating room and sat at my head. I don't remember too much about being prepped but I do remember one of my friends telling me that they strapped your wrists to the bed. The operating table was so skinny, and there were arm rests, and one of the nurses actually asked me if I wanted to be strapped down - I said yes! I was shaking uncontrollably - my arms were flailing and I couldn't speak properly. It was like I was freezing cold and I couldn't get control of my mouth.
The rest is a little fuzzy, as my epidural was topped up enough to freeze me from the chest down and my mind became a little cloudy - but I quickly noticed that I could still feel my toes and my butt! I was extremely upset over this - in my head, I'd been prepared to be absolutely, 100% frozen from the chest down and the fact that I had sensation was enough for me to ask the anesthesiologist (who was sitting to my left) for something more. He said he couldn't give me anything else, as it would go right to the baby and that could be dangerous. The doctor told me he had just cut me open and I hadn't felt a thing, so he assured me that although I would have some sensation, there wouldn't be any pain. I can't describe the C-section as painful, but I did yell, and I was very uncomfortable, and I definitely dropped an F-bomb at one point because I was so angry over being able to feel the pressure.
The doctor let us know when the baby's legs were out... then her middle... and then, after an enormous pressure and the most climactic moment of the entire experience, her head - she was born! I had asked if my husband could announce the baby's gender, so when she was held up for us to see, Lance exclaimed: "well, it's not an Axel!" My suspicions were confirmed: she was a girl, and I couldn't have been more ecstatic.
She was born, and I was born into motherhood, and my husband was born into fatherhood all at the same time. I felt like time stopped; I couldn't stop looking at her. I couldn't stop saying "oh my gosh, oh my gosh... she's beautiful... she's perfect!" I had been so afraid of feeling nothing when my baby was born - that was one of my biggest fears throughout the entire pregnancy. But the feelings I felt were indescribable. There are no words to express how my heart grew and how much I immediately loved this brand new life. I'll always treasure that moment in my mind - and those feelings in my heart. I know this sounds corny, but it's the truth: nobody can prepare you for how you're going to feel when you meet a life that you had a part in creating. It's totally indescribable.
We spent about 30 minutes oohing and aahing over our little miracle while I was stitched up (the anesthesiologist topped me up so I had lost all feeling below my chest by then - no more toe wiggling) then Lance and our baby were taken away and I was wheeled into recovery. Being lifted from the operating table back onto the hospital bed was the strangest sensation because I could see it happening with my eyes, but I had no sensation in my body - it kind of felt like when you're watching a movie, and a camera is strapped to an actor so that his or her movement dictates the movement of the camera. I don't know if that makes sense, but it makes sense to me.
The nurses in recovery were fantastic; I was pretty out of it so I don't remember what we talked about but I do recall one nurse knowing my husband's brother somehow. It was shift change, so some new nurses came in - and I started getting very bored. After a little while, to my surprise, our daughter was brought to me in recovery so I could breastfeed her. I'd asked while I was being prepped for the C-section if my baby could join me in recovery for breastfeeding and the nurse had told me that it wasn't very likely, but here she was. She latched on like a magnet, and although I couldn't really feel her breastfeeding because I was so frozen, it was a magical experience to be connected with her.
Once she was done, the nurse took her away, and the boredom continued. I kept willing my toes to wiggle, a la Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. Wiggle your big toe. Wiggle your big toe. After about an hour of willing my toes to move with no luck, I had the sudden sensation that something had fallen on top of my legs. I looked down and saw that my legs were wiggling all around! Sensation had finally returned to my lower body. Slowly but surely I was able to feel my toes, then my feet, then my legs - but every time they tested me for sensation, they did it from the chest down, and my abdomen was still entirely frozen. I was in recovery for a total of three hours before being allowed into the maternity ward.
Finally I was wheeled into room 30, where my husband and our brand new daughter were waiting, sitting in a rocker, bonding skin-to-skin. My husband's parents and youngest brother were there too, and I got to hold my baby girl again. At this point it was about 10:00 am, so my husband called his middle brother whose wife had come in for an induction at 9:00. When my husband asked how the induction went, his brother replied, "good - she's in labour so we're walking around the hospital to get things going." My husband replied, "that's great - take a walk over to room 30 in maternity and meet your niece!"
Alexandria Scout joined us at 6:00 am on Wednesday, May 1, and we were discharged from the hospital around noon on Saturday, May 4. Our time at the Medicine Hat Regional Hospital was amazing; the nurses were fantastic and we were extremely well taken care of. At one point (probably painkiller-induced) I remember telling my husband that our stay in the hospital was almost as good as our Jamaican honeymoon. I think what I meant was that I really valued being able to spend so much uninterrupted time with him. It was miraculous that Lexi's cousin was born 14 hours later, in the same hospital. My sister and brother in law were just down the hall from us, so once I was up and moving around, we'd walk down the hall for little visits with them.
May 1 was a day of miracles. I give thanks to God for all the blessings on that day, for the care I was shown by my family, my doula, and the staff at the hospital; for the safe arrival of my baby daughter and her cousin; for the chance to experience labour and ultimately to experience a love I've never experienced before, one that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
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