Mommy's First Steps: Odin's Birth Story: Episode II

Click here to access Episode I of Odin's Birth Story

So the epidural had me feeling comfortable for a while, but then the magnesium had me hating life. As I began to feel weaker and weaker from the magnesium, I realized how difficult pushing the baby out was going to be (not that I thought it would be a piece of cake to begin with), and I started to wonder how - or frankly, if - I was going to be able to do it. Before the magnesium, giving birth seemed like a tremendous task, but after the magnesium it loomed like an impossible feat. Anyway, once my contractions were really close together I started the pushing phase, and all I could think was, 'This is never going to work' because I was so weak I couldn't even lift my limbs, so how was I supposed to have the strength to push out a baby? With each contraction, I grasped for as much strength as I could find and gave it every ounce of energy I had. Matt had to lift up my head and shoulders with each push because I couldn't do it myself. As time went on, I really did feel like I wasn't going to be able to push the baby out and the doctor would decide I would have to have a cesarean. And actually, that was nearly the case. After over an hour of pushing, it became clear to the medical team that I was so weak I probably couldn't push the baby out on my own, so the doctor used forceps to help Odin out. The use of forceps wasn't something I had even thought about, but at that point I realized I needed as much help as I could get, and if it prevented me from needing a c-section, I was ok with it.

It took a few more pushes with the forceps to get Odin delivered, and I remember several things very distinctly from that moment: first, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief that he was finally out, because since it had been over 24 hours since my water had broken, I had started to feel a sense of urgency and I wanted to make sure he wasn't in there too long; second, I remember being concerned because for the first few minutes after Odin was born I didn't hear him make any noise at all. A few minutes seems like a terribly long time when you're waiting to hear your child cry for the first time. The midwife kept going back and forth from where Odin was to where I was, and reassuring me that he was ok, which was incredibly helpful, but I really wanted to hear some kind of noise out of Odin. The midwife would come over to me and say things like, "I know you can't hear him right now, but I promise you he's ok. He has good color and he looks great." Strangely enough, I never did hear Odin cry in the delivery room; actually, neither Matt nor I heard him cry until more than 24 hours after he was born. He made noises and he hiccupped, but he didn't cry at any point when he was with us during his first day. It was certainly not what we expected, but he was healthy and that was a huge relief. After Odin was assessed and cleaned up - and after I had the chance to say hello to him for a couple of seconds - he was whisked off to the nursery, and Matt went along with him so that he could give our families the news that the baby was finally born. When the nurses were wheeling Odin down the hallway to the nursery, they didn’t stop to let our families come over and see him; our family members had just enough time to catch a glimpse of him as they ran down the hall next to him! Everyone was so happy that he had finally made his entrance into the world!

Mommy meets Odin face-to-face

Meanwhile, I was in the labor and delivery room getting stitched up - the forceps had caused some internal lacerations, and then there were external stitches necessary as well. I was so exhausted; between giving birth and being on the magnesium I don’t think I’ve ever been so exhausted. At that point, I just wanted to rest and I hoped I would be able to get some sleep very soon. I was lying there thinking, ‘I can’t believe Odin is really here!’ and feeling groggy. And then, all of a sudden, everything in the room changed. Because Odin was five weeks early, there were a lot of extra people from the NICU in the room when he was born, just in case he had any issues or complications. Some of those people had gone with Odin to the nursery, but some of them were still in the room with me. The doctor who was stitching me up suddenly said, in an urgent voice, “Postpartum hemorrhage.” As soon as those words came out of her mouth everyone in the room got very serious and very efficient in their words and their movement. The doctor called out an order to push Hemabate, a drug that helps blood to clot, through my IV. I was feeling weak already from the magnesium, but I noticed that I was now feeling extremely lightheaded and a little dizzy. I felt like I was going to pass out. The nurse right next to me called out, “BP sixty over thirty.” I remember thinking, huh, 60/30 - that doesn’t sound good. It was surreal; Matt had just walked out of the room with Odin a few minutes before, and everything was just fine. I was thinking, What if I pass out and don’t wake up? How shocking will it be for Matt if he left me here, perfectly fine, and then minutes later learns I bled to death? Did I just give birth to a son who will never know his mother? I realize these thoughts may seem overly dramatic; reading them now I can see how it would seem that way. But if you had been in the room with me at the time, you would have a much better understanding of how serious the situation was, and why I was thinking about the possibility of not getting the opportunity to raise Odin. I didn’t have the energy to panic, but the gravity of the situation was definitely not lost on me. It was scary. I had no control over anything. I am grateful to the medical staff who helped me. I am glad things turned out well, and I consider myself lucky.