Hayden's Birth Story

PART 1

I felt like I was very prepared to give birth to this little one from 34 weeks on. And with good reason. With my first pregnancy, I was diagnosed with ICP (Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy) at 34 weeks, and the generally accepted medical protocol is to induce at 36 weeks at a hospital to protect the health of the baby.

28 weeks with Hayden // photo by Ali Beck

ICP is a fairly rare (thought to be mainly genetic) liver condition that occurs in the mother in pregnancy—usually toward the end. And it’s a repeat offender in 60-70% of women. The midwives who did my prenatal care were so encouraging and kept reminding me that 30-40% is decent odds, maybe not totally in my favor, but good odds all the same.

So...ICP. The main symptom and how you know you may have it is severe itching. I had it on my hands and feet, but I’ve heard others get it elsewhere. But it’s INTENSE and keeps you up alllllllll night. 

So I spent my third trimester praying hard every bedtime for “no itching”...and then waking up in the morning in slight disbelief, overjoyed that we had made it another night.

I have some IGTVs saves about cholestasis and my journey through my first pregnancy. But essentially, I had spent a ton of time and energy researching and implementing different protocols to hopefully prevent the return of ICP with this pregnancy. 

Did it work? I certainly think so!

So there I was, ready to go by week 36 but hoping to get further every day. Hitting 40 weeks was a very surreal feeling. Especially during a pandemic 🥴 ...very lonely last month of pregnancy with an over 90°-week and no AC. Yet each day felt special knowing I had never before been THIS pregnant. Grow baby grow!

I had bile levels tested at 37 weeks anyway, just for my peace of mind, even though I was asymptomatic. And they were perfect!

At my midwife appt at 40w3d, we celebrated making it this far and considered now what we could do proactively to help baby make his entrance soon...🙏🏽

PART 2

On the morning of May 11, I headed off to my 40-week (and 3 days!) prenatal appt at the @sbbirthcenter, hoping it would be my last one🤞🏽.

I cherished each and every appt with the four midwives at our birth center. I felt heard, loved, and un-rushed.

We wanted to encourage baby to come (knowing full well that babies come only when they are good and ready!), but having experienced a previous hospital induction, I knew how much I wanted to avoid it, especially in the middle of COVID-19. So we talked options. 

I had already been doing *all the things* when it came to encouraging a timely, gentle birth. Our midwives encourage a natural regimen of homeopathics, herbal supplements and plenty of cervix-softening sex...and I’d also consumed my fair share of dates.

The offer to sweep my membranes was placed on the table at this appt and, after some thought and a slew of questions, I decided to give it a whirl.

Membrane sweep! It took less than five minutes and thankfully didn’t hurt any more than a quick vaginal exam. I left the birth center that morning at 3cm and proceeded to march/walk/bounce the rest of the day with Levi, feeling a tad crampier than usual. Braxton Hicks has been a thing for me for months now, and those kept on strong...all in the name of prepping my body for an efficient labor, I kept reminding myself. 

I didn’t feel like much for dinner and ended up with a bowl of white rice with some egg after the toddler went to bed. Tucking him in that night was bittersweet, knowing it may be the last time before his world got turned upside down. My mom offered to come spend the night *just in case* and I gladly accepted.

The Braxton Hicks and cramping became more consistent around 10pm, so instead of going to bed, I downloaded a contraction timer.

My goal at the start of labor was to remain calm and manage my anxiety as much as possible. I took some soothing Bach Original Flower Remedies, CBD oil, and CALM powder. 

I had been emailing little details to the midwives around 11pm about how I was feeling, and they assured me that I was to come to the birth center and call the midwife “on call number” sooner than later. Especially as this was my second labor, and my first was a bullet train.

Contractions were between 5-10 minutes apart but didn’t feel terribly painful yet, so I was confused and unsure of what to do, but I knew I didn’t want to have a car baby, let alone be in transition during the drive. So David called around midnight. It was surreal — THE CALL meant THIS IS IT.

The drive was full of big deep breaths, and awkward sitting, but I was doing okay and smiling by the time we got there. We had plenty of time to get in and get settled with Nikole, the same midwife who had swept my membranes this morning. She was ready and waiting! We spent until about 1am walking around the birth room swaying, sniffing my array of essential oils and settling in with our bags of items I thought I would need in labor (but didn’t end up using in the slightest). This brought us to about 1:30am on May 12th…

PART 3

This is the part where everything gets a bit muddled for me. So I asked my midwives for access to their clinical notes in order to better understand the timeline of my labor.

Everything was off to a smooth and gentle start, just like I’d hoped — very different than the lightning bolt of my prior induction that was 2 hours start to finish. Baby was in a good position. My waters hadn’t broken yet. My chosen music was playing over the Sonos at @sbbirthcenter. All was well. I was 60% effaced and baby was at -1 station. 

And then the shaking started. I’d experienced it before during nocturnal panic attacks. But I wasn’t currently having one. It felt like muscles seizing into tensing shakes and shivers, uncontrollably. I curled up on my side on the bed with a blanket and peanut ball to breathe through more contractions, while trying to not be sad that so much energy was being wasted through these unwanted chills. I was assured it was a normal bodily reaction to labor, even though it wasn’t fun. 

Nikole ran warm water in the birth room’s big jacuzzi tub in hopes of convincing my body to stop the chills and shaking. I hadn’t wanted anything to do with a pool or tub with my first birth...but this time it felt calming and good, warming to my worried body. I stayed in it for 30-40 minutes, a little after 2am.

With my previous labor, sitting on the toilet seemed to get my body in the right frame of mind and speed things along. So I was helped out of the tub and moved to the bathroom around 3am, where I tried sitting backwards on the toilet, propped by plenty of pillows and towels. This is (unfortunately?) one of the only times a photo was taken of me in the throes of labor. 

My body was starting to bear down and another midwife and assistant were called in. They helped move me to the bed where I labored on my hands and knees for a short spell and then switched to right side-lying with the peanut ball between my knees.

I remember very briefly seeing a clock around 3:15am and being both shocked and mildly horrified. Had it only been this long? I thought, while also thinking, HOW HAD IT ONLY BEEN THIS LONG?!

I remember David offering me sips of water as I lay on my side on the bed, gripping his hand or the bed corner. Always gripping something. And then a quick vaginal exam was performed around 3:30am. I was told I had a slight anterior cervical lip. My only knowledge of cervical lips was from other birth stories I’d recently read in which the brave mamas described them as literally the worst pain they’d ever experienced and by far the worst part of their labors. To say I was discouraged is an understatement.

I was told to only breathe through contractions and pushing urges for the next hour and a half. I was given homeopathic Arnica and Gelsenium for the pain and swelling. One of the midwives tried to manually hold the lip out of the way as I pushed through a contraction. It didn’t work, but MY was it painful.

By 4:30am I was feeling a wild and increased strength in my contractions. My body was exhibiting the fetal ejection reflex in full force, but I was still being told not to push (as best I could) and breathe through each one. SO COUNTERINTUITIVE, but I trusted the process. I began to fear each contraction though, knowing it wasn’t even furthering me toward the end goal thanks to the stubborn cervical lip.

Finally, around 5am, I was told that the 10 centimeters was completed, and my body really took over then. Yes! The finish line was in sight. Since my waters were still in tact, I hobbled to the toilet again in between contractions and bore down intuitively. It worked. Everything was clear, and by 5:20am I was back on hands and knees (leaning on pillows and my husband) on the bed, riding the craziest ride of my life.

I felt utterly out of control with the fetal ejection reflexes smacking me back to back. The midwives were graciously (but firmly) reminding me to send all the energy of my screaming to a lower place that would help get baby out.

By 5:45am his head was visible, but I struggled to find the strength to carry on after not having slept in 24 hours. Thankfully the midwives, their assistant, and David were more than aware of what was going on than I was at this point. They all helped switch up my positions continuously to help baby find the best way out. At one point I was on my back with my legs supported, then flipped back to hands and knees, until a little after 6am when he started to crown.

I’ve watched so many natural birth story videos of women pulling their babies out gently with their own hands as soon as the head is born. That was not the case for me and Hayden. Instead it became clear that his shoulders were a tad wedged (more position changing and maneuvering), and then his TORSO of all things ended up being as large as his head. So they whipped me around into what’s called the McRoberts maneuver with my legs hyper flexed to my abdomen.

In those last 60 seconds I felt a much more urgent energy in the room — it was clear he needed to come out NOW. With that final push, using everything in my weary body that I had left to offer this child, our Hayden was born at 6:15am.

I was almost hanging off the side of the bed, repeatedly asking, “Is he okay? Is he okay?” as the midwives quickly made sure he was good on oxygen. Those few seconds before hearing him cry were an infinite all their own, but then there he was, whole and perfect and here — 8 pounds, 12 ounces of beautiful baby boy. We are so grateful.