Ellie's Birth Story - Part 1

I wrote this after Ellie was born. I'm not sure why I held off posting it...with it being Ellie's birthday today I feel as though I'm ready to share some of my feelings.

Its been 12 hours since the birth of Ellie and I honestly think I’m still somewhat in shock. What an amazing, powerful and completely fulfilling experience.

This is the story of Ellie…and the story of me, finding my voice and listening to that inner quiet voice inside myself.

When I got pregnant with Ellie I weighed 411 pounds. I could be ashamed of that number, or embarrassed or completely disheartened over the fact that I’m that morbidly obese. Honestly, it is what it is and I’m not one to point fingers or make excuses. I accept myself for who I am…and that’s that. I’m lucky that I carry my weight well and that I don’t have any health problems, but I’m smart enough to know that my weight immediately labels me as “high risk”.

When I got pregnant with my first daughter, Irelyn, I was pretty much the same size. I recall spending most of that pregnancy feeling grateful. I was pregnant, healthy and I had a doctor who didn’t treat me all that differently. He reminded me time and again that despite my size I was healthy (one of his healthiest patients in fact) and that he wasn’t going to treat me any differently. I liked him, took him at his word and felt a sense of trust throughout my pregnancy and delivery…and yet, I blindly was naïve.

If you know me, then you know I’m a voracious reader and an analytical thinker. I love random trivia and I enjoy learning new things for the sake of learning. Strangely, when it came to my first pregnancy I took everything at face value and to my embarrassment I didn’t read much of anything about labor. I was gifted “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” and like so many other first time moms I flipped through it as if it was the holy grail of childbirth and baby development. Reading about surgical births and inductions was common, typical and something I didn’t think twice about.

As a plus size woman I did try to find information specific to plus size moms. For the most part everything available on the web indicates that overweight women have a higher chance of high blood pressure, gestational diabetes and many of them due to their size have an increased likelihood of needing a cesarean section. Again, I took everything at face value…except the c-section thing. Logically it didn’t make sense to me…just because I’m fat I’d need a c-section? Hmm….

Thankfully my doctor did not agree with that line of thinking and said he didn’t think there was any reason why I could not deliver my child vaginally the way my body intended to birth. A week before I was due he called me and suggested that we induce. My Bishop Score was favorable, I was about 3 cm dialated, he was on call and without saying it I knew my best chance for a vaginal delivery would be if he was the doctor on duty. The other care providers in that medical group didn’t share his birthing philosophy. I knew inductions were common…I unquestioningly trusted my doctor and without thinking I agreed to an unnecessary induction.  

What I didn’t know about inductions is that it’s a slippery slope of interventions. I didn’t know that one thing lead to another. I went in at 6 am, Pitocin was quickly administered, then my waters were artificially ruptured, I shot up to 7/8 cm and was told I’d need an epidural soon. I wasn’t opposed to pain medication and I figured the nurses did this every day, so while the pain was relatively minor I figured I might as well say yes now. The epidural immediately slowed my progression. The next 11 hours became a tap dance of tinkering with the Pitocin and epidural anesthia. Constant monitoring was required, and when the external monitor wasn’t doing the trick I was told we needed to use an internal monitor. Informed consent was completely absent during my entire labor experience. I nodded my head, didn’t ask questions and went along for the ride. I felt like a passenger on a train…I knew the end destination, but I had no clue how we were getting there and I sure as hell wasn’t stationed anywhere near the conductor.

After the end of a long 17 hour labor my beautiful Irelyn Luna was born. She was dream…and I got the vaginal delivery I wanted so badly. The next morning she was admitted to the NICU for observation for rapid breathing. She then needed to spend the next 10 days in the NICU while she was treated on a course of antibiotics for suspected sepsis. I want to make it very clear that I don’t think my induction “caused” my daughter’s NICU stay. However, I fully and intuitively believe many of the interventions I endured during her labor did not help the situation and contributed to the situation.

I remember when I first began to read and investigate Natural Childbirth. My roommate from college was on bed rest during her pregnancy and we’d email occasionally. She’d share what books she was reading and began mentioning her desire for a Natural Unmedicated Childbirth. I was intrigued…but not because I was necessarily interested. I thought it was great for her, but not really my cup of tea. I loved all of the reading she shared and it became an interest of mine. I felt like a little girl looking through the looking glass. This was how it could be…this is how women’s bodies were made to work. Other women’s bodies though…not my own, I mean, hello, I’m different…I’m FAT.

Then I met Jen. She is a coworker of mine stationed in a different office. The first time we met in person we engaged in idle chit chat and both shared that we had toddlers. She then mentioned that she had a homebirth with her son and that she was a doula. I was quickly captivated by her passion and an instant friendship was formed.

I had bitten the apple and unbeknownst to me a seed was slowly growing inside of me. I stopped seeing myself as “different” and gradually a new realization was born. I no longer accepted that natural childbirth was just for other people…it had become something I fully believed in and wanted for myself!

When I became pregnant with Ellie I had this new sense of self confidence. I was educated and I intuitively I knew that my childbirth experience this time around could and would be very different than my experience with Irelyn. My doctor had relocated and I began prenatal care with a midwife in the practice. I was upfront and shared my desires for a natural unmedicated childbirth. I also was very specific about not desiring an induction this time around.

At first she seemed as though she supported my desires. I thought I had lucked out, maybe this wasn’t going to be the struggle I had begun preparing myself for. When I was just under 20 weeks along I went in for a routine monthly visit. I left work early and was frustrated with inner office politics. It was raining and on the way into the office I was almost hit on the freeway. I was running late, tired and frustrated with my day. Nothing seemed to be going right. When the nurse took my blood pressure it was slightly elevated. I asked that she wait a few minutes and then do it again using a large cuff. She did so and it went down into my normal range. When my midwife came in she saw that the first reading was high and we talked very briefly about my day. She told me that when I made my next appointment that I make it with one of the obs in the practice.

During my next appointment I saw the ob and she discussed my 20 week ultrasound. At the time they said I had marginal placenta previa. I immediately panicked and while the midwife was getting the ob I did a quick google search on my phone. I learned more via google than what either the midwife or ob deigned to share with me. Then came the whammy of a conversation with the ob. She questioned my blood pressure (remember that one high reading?) and said that since I had an induction with my first, that if Ellie wasn’t born by 39 weeks that she “was taking my baby.” That’s a direct quote. I can still vividly recall how she made me feel; insignificant, minor, defective and unworthy. She went on about baby size, about how for the baby’s safety they needed “to take her as soon as possible” Nevermind that my pregnancy was going perfectly, nevermind that my blood pressure (save that one bad reading) had been wonderful. In this woman’s eyes all she saw was the fat...in her mind I truly think she viewed me as defective and flawed.

I pride myself on my communication skills and in that moment I shut down. I felt like an outsider viewing the verbal exchange as an observer. Here she was discussing my body, my baby and yet there was no dialogue. I listened to a diatribe of unfounded force. I remember walking out of there in a haze. On one hand I felt defeated and yet on the other hand I felt empowered. I decided then and there that I was done with that practice.

I switched doctors after that horrible experience. I was nervous during my first visit with my new ob. He came highly recommended from a friend and his c-section rate was very low. During the visit I not only found my voice but I used it. We discussed my situation, my weight, my desires and for the first time a medical caregiver actually listened to me. Real dialogue is an amazing thing!

Part II