Ellie's Birth Story - Part 2

PreI had an appointment with my ob at 39 weeks and consented to a vaginal exam. He was surprised to find out that I was 4 to 4.5 cm dilated. When I left the office he grinned and said, "I'll see you soon! 

Days went by and I became a pro at prodromal labor. Contractions would start and just when I thought they were going somewhere they'd totally stop. On Saturday night I just decided that I couldn't think about labor anymore, I just needed to let it go for the next couple of days. My next appointment with my ob was on Tuesday and I decided we'd just go from there. Sunday wasn't anything special. Scott, Irelyn and I got up and went to breakfast, then we went to Babies R US. I lounged around most of the day and took a really nice nap with Irelyn. When I woke up I decided that I NEEDED nachos! I told Scott and we went and tried out a new cheap place my mom had found.

My doula (Jen) had sent me a text asking me how I was doing and I told her we were on our way to go get Mexican food. She joked and said that maybe it'd put me in labor. I laughed...I really love spicy food, and thankfully it doesn't affect my digestive system or anything. I like it so hot, that finding stuff out there that is too hot for me, well...yeah, that’s difficult!

We had dinner and then Schanelle asked if she could stop by. A bunch of my close friends went to Vegas for the weekend and they were on their way home. She came by and visited. Just before she went to leave I had this crazy pain that kind of felt like a gas pain. I honestly thought I just had to go poo....

She left and then a little bit later I had another one of these pains. It wasn't a gas pain, but it didn't feel like one of the contractions I was used to having either. When they first started there wasn't a definite start or end to them. After having about 4-5 of these "pains" I texted my doula and she asked if I was online. My computer was on, and we started chatting. We discussed what these pains felt like and she told me she'd check in on me in an hour. This was at about 9pm. I got off the computer and immediately I felt another rush...and immediately I knew we weren't playing around. Something clicked inside of me and I knew this was the real deal.

I had downloaded a contraction counter app on my phone. I began using it and keeping track of my contractions. In the next half an hour I had about 6 contractions, they were lasting about a minute and were about 5 minutes a part. I decided not to wait for my doula to check in with me, I called her and told her to come over. I knew I'd go fast and she lives 70+ miles away.

Then I got the crazy idea to take a shower! I had a couple loose stools earlier in the day and I was determined to be as fresh as possible when I arrived at the hospital. The hot water felt AMAZING during a contraction. If I could've birthed in water I think I would've loved it...

Contractions...what can I say about them...they're fun! Really! I thought I knew what contractions felt like (and I did...if they were the Braxton Hicks and prodromal labor variety), but when it came to the type of contractions I was having I had no clue! I had a LOT OF PRESSURE in my lower back during each contraction. It felt REALLY good to have Scott, or my mom press down on my lower back. I'd get on all fours or lean over the couch and one of them would press down on me. The nice thing about the contractions was that there was a pause between them! I breathed...focused on not being tense and bam, it would end, and then I'd feel normal again!

During this time my doula was keeping in contact with me while she drove down. She told me if the contractions came about every 2 minutes a part to go to the hospital and she'd meet me there. Things were moving really fast...

My mom suggested that we go to the hospital and I remember snapping at her. I wasn't mentally ready yet and honestly even though the contractions were coming quickly they weren't unbearable and I didn't think it was time. I went outside and just stood in the moonlight. I breathed and as crazy as this may sound I thought of my ancestress’, I thought about the women who came before me and birthed naturally. I thought about all the women across the world that were in labor with me and as crazy as it sounds to others, this was an incredible moment for me. My doula texted me while I was outside and told me that she was about 10 minutes away, I had 2 good contractions while I was in my front yard, I was sweaty and then it dawned on me...it was hospital time, I was going to have a baby very very soon!

Jen got here, and we immediately went to the hospital which is about 5-10 minutes away. She suggested that I wiggle my toes during a contraction in the car to keep me from tensing up and I did that. It seemed to help. I also had a tennis ball for my lower back. When I had a contraction I'd push into the ball and that helped too.

Scott made a wrong turn into the parking lot and I thought I was going to cause him bodily harm. I got to the hospital and checked in. I remember them wanting to weigh me and the scale being quite far away. I had a hunch the scale didn’t go over 350 pounds and I weigh over that, I said that to the nurse and she rolled her eyes. I wasn't a fan of the nurse I was assigned too. She didn't want my doula or mother to go back with me while she admitted me (which the hospital doesn't have a policy on), she was somewhat snappy and I could see the disapproval in her face when I even mentioned I had a doula. Lovely I thought...

I didn't let her sour disposition get to me. This was my day, my show...it was show time and I was determined not to be shy. She rudely asked me if I had a birth plan and I told her that I did not, but that I had preferences and would be more than willing to discuss things with her as they came up. Looking back I'm pretty shocked I was so well spoken with her during contractions and everything. I had preadmitted to the hospital, and for whatever reason I had to go through EVERYTHING again. That was a huge pain. There I was in transition and she was asking me if I had any STDs, etc. SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS!

We checked in between 11:30 and midnight, so about 2 and a half hours from when I first started having those weird pains. The nurse offered me a hospital gown and I gave it back to her. I didn’t want to wear it. This will sound weird to other people, but for me the hospital gown was symbolic. I didn’t want a hospital gown that said “Property of Los Alamitos Hospital”…I was nobody’s property…The nurse gave me a look and was like, okay...

The nurse checked me and to my complete and utter surprise I was already 9 cm dialated! I mean, yeah, I knew I was at 4/4.5 cm from the week before, but since my water hadn't broken I honestly didn't think I'd be that far along. After they did the cervical check they needed to hook me up to the external fetal monitor to calculate the babies heart rate. I made the comment to the nurse that I had

 discussed this with my ob and he had agreed to intermittent monitoring, then my lovely nurse informed me that my doctor wasn't on call, that the other doctor in the practice was and she would need to discuss with her. I remember the snappy nursing acting as if she had one upped me or something. Thankfully I had previously met the other doctor. I didn't have an established relationship with her, but seriously, what can you do?

The most difficult time during labor was laying somewhat still while they tried to get the external monitor on me. Oh, and at the same time another nurse was trying to put a heplock in (I didn't want an IV, but did consent to having a heplock). At the same time a tech was drawing blood from my other hand. All three things at once, LOVELY, right? I know they got to do what they gotta do, and I completely respect that, but in order to get through those contractions I had to do what I had to do as well. I didn't even think in terms of, oh, I'm in transition or anything...I just knew I needed to wiggle...and moan.

I think I was somewhat of a novelty to the hospital staff, there were about 3 other nurses that came in to observe and help with the heplock. They weren’t intrusive or anything and I wasn’t bothered, but I remember how weird it was that these other nurse thought I was so different. I wanted to be like, “Haven’t you ever seen a woman in labor before!?”

I had planned on eating during labor. It’s a complete fallacy how most hospitals don’t let a woman drink or eat during labor. I asked the icky nurse if I could have some water and she was totally rude. My doula looked at me and was like, “Would you like some water?” I said yes. My assigned nurse grumbled something and the other nurses that were observing had mixed reactions. Two of them smiled and the other nurse kind of looked puzzled.

While they were doing the heplock I started thinking I couldn’t do it. I was in an uncomfortable position and in my head I kept hearing “I can’t…I can’t” over and over again.  In response I started chanting “I can do this” over and over again during a contraction. That wasn’t planned…it was just something that clicked and worked.

My doula offered to move the hospital bed into a position mimicking how I felt sitting on the toilet, she did that and I felt so much better! The ob showed up and she began to monitor Ellie's heart rate by hand. She asked me if I would consent to an internal monitor because she was having a problem keeping Ellie’s heartrate on the monitor. I asked if there had been any dips, she said no and I politely declined the monitor. She said I knew you would and smile. Then she checked me and I was pretty much at 10cm...without my water breaking and she asked me if I wanted her to break it. It was up to me, which I liked. I decided to let her go for it. She broke my water, I had another contraction or two and was told I could bear down and push when I felt like it. The ob also moved these foot petal things out. I was still in a sitting position, but was able to put my feet to the side and press down. This really helped as well.

Can I just say I hate directed pushing?! With Irelyn I had to push on a schedule, count, hold my breath and it was so mechanical. With this labor I pushed when my body told me to push...and it was AMAZING and wonderful. The first time I pushed I felt the ring of fire start and I intuitively I knew it wasn't going to be long, but in my head I was scared. My doctor and doula encouraged me to bear down again and both of them told me it would feel good. Honestly, it did kind of feel good, but not wonderful or anything. My doctor asked me how long I pushed with Irelyn and I told her about 20-25 minutes. She immediately put on a plastic gown. I had another really good contraction and I pushed...and I pooped. It was lovely! I even said, oh dear, I just went poo! The nurses, and doctor were so kind about everything, it was no big deal, and I was even encouraged to continue to poo!

One more push...and bam, Ellie flew out! She came out in a rush and the doctor almost dropped her!

She was placed on my belly and I was in complete heaven. I couldn't believe it happened so fast, and I was honestly shocked at how much it didn't hurt. We did delayed cord clamping and when it came time to cut the cord, I did it! That wasn't planned, but when the nurse asked for Scott to come over and cut the cord something clicked inside of me and I knew I wanted to be the one to cut it. I said, "Honey, do you mind?" He smiled and shook his head. Without words his look told me he understood and that he didn't mind.

Looking back on the experience I’m still surprised that I did it. I put my mind to it…and bam, it happened. This birth is SO unlike my first birth in so many ways. Yes, my nurse bugged me, but my doctor was more supportive than I anticipated (and she wasn’t even my primary doctor). Every preference I wanted actually happened (and I had prepared myself for that not happening).

My body went into labor on its own. Absolutely no pain medication. No IV. No continuous monitoring. No internal monitoring. I sat in a squatting position. I had immediate skin to skin. AMAZING.

Her full name is Elle Alice and we call her Ellie. Alice is after my grandmother.

She weighed 8 pounds, 12 ounces and was 21 inches long. Oh, and her head was 14 cm in diameter :o)

I delivered an hour and a half after I checked into the hospital total length of labor was 4 hours long =) Ellie and I came home at 7pm on the same day I gave birth. After having to check out with Irelyn nothing felt better than taking my baby home with me. One of the best memories is having Irelyn come to pick Ellie and I up from the hospital!

This is what natural birth looks like, picture taken right as Ellie was born.

Ellie nursing for the first time!

Irelyn meeting her baby sister for the first time

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

Pregnancy Reflections

This pregnancy thing is pretty interesting to say the least. Since Christmas evening I think I've felt almost every emotion possible. When the Asian doctor at Kaiser delivered the news that we were expecting he said, “So, I hear congratulations are in order?” Scott and I were like, um…so does that mean we’re pregnant?

I’m about to have my baby and I can’t even begin to describe how I feel. I’m excited and nervous all that the same time. As a first time mom I worry about how my labor is going to progress, but then at the same time I’m not worried at all. Woman have delivered babies since the dawn of time, and I remind myself that I’m not an exception.

I’ve had a few plus size women ask me for advice about getting pregnant, or about being pregnant and in those moments I’m kinda stumped. I mean, I’m just a normal girl…what do I know about pregnancy? I’ve answered as best as I can…and I’ve shared my experience.

Whatever happened to the Wiski I used to be? When I graduated college I spent most of my free time hanging out with friends consuming massive quantities of caffeine at the local coffee shop, or large amounts of beer at the area dive bars. I worked in job I was over qualified for with a boss who milked me for all I was worth.

Gradually I was able to grow up and move on…from both the alcohol and the horrid job. Five years later I find myself in a completely different place in life. I’m genuinely happily married, I live in a home of my own and work with people I actually like. In two short days I’m going to be a real live mom and all I can think over and over again is wowzers!

During the last couple of weeks of maternity leave I’ve had more than enough time to think about where I’ve been. Too much navel gazing isn’t good for the soul….but period ventures through the looking glass are required for growth. I’ve thought about how I grew up, and whether I liked it or not I explored the parts of my childhood I recall fondly, and even opened the doors to rooms I’ve stowed all the shit I’ll never discuss, the stuff I never want to remember. And here I am…all the pieces of me are still securely put together, and I’d even take a gamble and argue that the pieces are glued more tightly together.

My purpose in life has always been self preservation. I put others first….that way they don’t get too close to me. I’m the queen of facades, smiles and disguises. Always in command of what I face I present to others…at the end of the day, I’ve always been concerned about me. The last nine months has changed my perception of myself, and of the people around me.

There have been moments when I’m consumed with anticipation and worry…and One minute I'm consumed with excitement and anticipation and the next I'm feeling overwhelmed and nervous. I know my roller coaster of emotions is normal, but I'll admit that there are some days when I just wanna scream!

Whatever happened to the Wiski I used to be? At first I thought maybe she was just in hiding, then I thought maybe she'd just disappear for awhile and now I realize that I will never be the person I was before getting pregnant. Until Irelyn is all grown up I'll never put myself first. I'm not saying that I won't do what's in my best interest, I am saying though that my role as a mother will be my first concern and top priority. I knew life would change prior to getting pregnant, its just interesting when you actually begin to notice and appreciate those changes.

I'm no longer the same Wiski...and I'm not mourning the loss of the old Wiski, rather I'm looking forward to discovering who this new Wiski will become.

Being Fat and Pregnant

Unlike most women I know, I've been blessed with a larger than normal dose of high self esteem. I'm not conceited or anything, I just don't think I'm special for any other reason. I'm just an average girl like everybody else. Now the truth of the matter is that I'm not like everybody else. In the medical world I'm medically obese. In layman's terms I'm just simply fat. And maybe I'm delusional, but on most days this simple fact doesn't bother me. It is what it is…and being fat doesn't make me any less of a person. My self worth isn't dependent on how many pounds I read on the scale. I don't get any special award I can hang on my wall for being smaller, and even if I did, I don't think it would really matter.

I've been big for as long as I can remember, and growing up I remember being teased. And I did what I did best, I plugged along and didn't let it get to me and I coped. I had friends like everybody else, was involved in school and was for the most part a normal person. And along the way maybe I fooled myself into believing that I wasn't different from everybody else…and maybe, maybe I'm not all that different.

And now I'm pregnant…and I'm still fat. Over the last 8 months I've realized that being both pregnant and fat is a trippy thing. In the beginning some people acted like I committed a cardinal sin, that it was inhuman and wrong to get pregnant at my size. I told a few people that Scott and I were expecting and they looked at me in shock, as if they were flabbergasted that I would do such a thing, or better yet surprised that we even had the right equipment to produce a baby. I also had people who automatically assumed I was a high risk pregnancy and told me at length in detail how overweight women have a greater miscarriage rate (cuz, that's the appropriate and right thing to tell a paranoid pregnant woman of any size). A few of these people went on and on about how I needed to prepare for bed rest, gestational diabetes and an automatic c-section. The truth is that yes, there are some complications for some pregnant overweight women…and there are also plenty of plus size mommies-to-be that have regular pregnancies and deliver normal healthy babies every damn day.

I entered my pregnancy with the same frame of mind I approach everything with…confront the situation head on, do your research, pay attention to detail and move the fuck along, and so far…so good!

Prior to getting pregnant I had moderately high blood pressure (about 135/80) and my doctor choose to put me on a low dosage of medication. I've been tested for just about everything possible, and the resounding verdict from my doctor is that I'm as healthy as a horse, literally. I'm not naïve in thinking the remaining two months will be filled with sunshine and roses…but I'm optimistic and educated enough to not stress myself out and to let nature take her course.
Every pregnancy magazine features the perfect woman in their layouts. She'll have creamy perfect skin, no blemishes or redness and her belly bump will be perfectly round, perky and beautiful. And then there is me, I have a slightly off centered belly with a small dent in the middle that hasn't completely rounded out…and there is some wiggle at the bottom. To be blunt…it's quite amusing to watch me walk naked…the top part stays still like hard jello and the bottom…the bottom looks like melting jello that jiggles to and fro. I don't share these things to make people giggle (but feel free to)…I share because I think there is truly value in not shying away from the truth.

I don't live my life with my head in the clouds though either…Two things absolutely drive me crazy! Plus size maternity clothes piss me off. Seriously, they are one of the best jokes out there. For every big girl who complains about regular plus size clothes…take your frustration and multiply it by about eight and that's how frustrated I am with my clothing options. I've been able to find a few tops to get me through, and that was nice, but I won't even talk about pants. Thank Goddess I finally gave in and realized the comfort dresses offer. I'm still looking for the absolute perfect mu mu though…one with big bright loud obnoxious Hawaiian flowers!
Then there is the, "She's not pregnant, she's just fat" problem I face daily. Here I am beginning my 8th month and I'd bet my savings account that 90 percent of people I run into on a daily basis have no clue that I'm expecting. They probably attribute my slow waddle to my extra weight and they probably think I've always had cankles. What they don't know is that prior to getting pregnant I had some of the prettiest fat girl ankles around! HA!

Obviously, I don't fit into the perfect pregnancy mold ordained by society and rather letting it depress me I choose to cherish my body the way it is. I have a precious life growing inside of me and in two short months I'll finally get the chance to be the mother I've dreamt of being. Rather than let the naysayers get me down, I choose to constantly remind myself of the wonderful support and love Scott and I receive from friends and family. My little girl has been loved by so many people since the minute we knew she existed floating around in the critter condo. Lil Irelyn will enter a world stock full of laughter and love. I couldn't ask for more…