One thing I didn’t mention in the last post is that there are a few risks associated with having an epidural. What exactly is an epidural? A catheter with pain medication attached to the middle of your spine. A few of the risks from this procedure include:
-Drop in blood pressure
-Spinal Migraine, which means your spinal fluid is leaking from where the needle was inserted into your spine
-Increased heart rate for baby
(Here is my source)
And now, why I didn’t want pitocin, the drug that encourages artificial contractions:
-Generally causes longer and harder contractions, leading to the need for more interventions (epidural, caesarean section)
-Uterine rupture
-Fetal distress
Now, I don’t look negatively on women who have these interventions- in fact, I did! I am Captain Suspicious, and have a tendency to be that low percent of people who have negative reactions to certain medications or procedures. I wanted to recover as normally after having a newborn as possible, without having other issues.
Around seven am, my regular midwife Teri was on staff for the day, and the anesthesiologist came to administer my epidural. He quizzed me on why I wanted it- I said I was having back labor, could use some rest, and relax a bit from the pain so I could push. Evidently my answer was satisfactory, because he gave me the shot. As far as the epidural goes, it was what I might have imagined to be a perfect epidural. I received pain relief, but could still lightly feel my contractions. I was still able to move my legs and wiggle my toes, so I didn’t feel out of control of my body. After my epidural was administered, Scott and I attempted to sleep. I’d been laboring for twenty five hours, and you could say the adrenaline rush was wearing off. About twenty minutes into my cat nap, a nurse came in to flip me onto my opposite side, so that the medication wouldn’t pool in one place. Within moments, an alarm on one of my monitors was going off and I was surrounded by nurses. In my groggy state, I had a nurse shove an oxygen mask over my face, Teri instructing someone to turn off the pitocin, and several other nurses flipped me back over. I received a shot, which I later discovered is used to stop contractions. Once things calmed down, I found out that part of Alex’s umbilical cord was with him in my pelvis, and with the pitocin and getting flipped, that his cord was being compressed. At the same time, I was having one long, hard, unnatural contraction, and all these factors led to Alex’s heart rate dropping dramatically. Thankfully, it corrected itself quickly. A sense of dread began to cover me. I wasn’t sure how much more pitocin my little guy could take.
Per Teri’s orders, the pitocin was turned off for two hours, then slowly reintroduced. Pitocin is administered on a scale of 1-30. Everytime I started to approach 6, which was my pain threshold before I requested the epidural, Alex would show signs of distress. Teri decided to do a procedure called an amniotic replacement to see if it would cushion the contraction impact. It helped some, but anytime the pit hit higher than six, my little guy would still have a heart rate drop. I was still at eight centimeters. After five hours of playing Russian Roulette with the pitocin to get me to dilate, Teri woke me from my slumber with a grim look on her face.
“I’m going to give you one more hour, and then we’ll start having a hard conversation.” I knew where Teri was going. My heart sank in my chest. She was going to suggest a C-section. Teri had allowed my labor to continue past the point of many doctors. She didn’t want me to have a c-section, either. The midiwiifery practice at my hospital has a very low c-section rate. However, I wanted my little guy out safe and sound. I didn’t want him to be dealing with the pitocin anymore. I felt as if my labor stalled into a hamster wheel. We needed to make a decision. I told Teri to allow Scott and I to talk, and we’d have a decision in a few minutes.
Scott weighed in first. He said while he didn’t want me to have a c-section, he knew that it was going to be the end result. I agreed, knowing another hour likely wouldn’t make a difference. We discussed my recovery. Scott has endured gastric bypass, so he would be the perfect empathetic person to help me recover quickly. We knew if we agreed to the c-section before it became an emergency, that Teri would have her pick of whichever surgeon she wanted to attend the delivery. I would be able to use my epidural in a higher dose as the anesthetic, meaning I’d be more alert after surgery. I called Jenni to seek her imput– after having three c-sections, I figured she was the person to speak with. I was advised to go for it. She listed the current factors: Baby wasn’t responding to pitocin well. I wasn’t dilating with the current dose the baby could tolerate. They had to do an amniotic fluid replacement, which she said would scare her. Jenni told me I was amazing for trying as long as I did, but Alex needed a safe delivery. Also, with a great husband like Scott, I’d recover just fine.
That cinched it. It was time to throw in the towel, but it was totally for my baby boy. I cried briefly, allowing myself to mourn the loss of the experience. Then I steeled myself as we headed in for surgery prep. I needed to remain brave and calm. I was determined to allow this experience to be positive as well.
Ok, so this is super long. I think I am going to make a Part 4. I am so so sorry! I promise to finish by the end of the week!
Tags: alex, birth story, em, scott
This reminds me a lot of the story of my own birth… slightly different order, but still very similar.