Travis's birth story

As I have said before, my due date came and went. It was so hot, I about fainted when I saw the van thermometer said 107. I was addicted, I mean addicted to lemonade over the summer. This was my first due date in the summer in ten years. I was due on Thursday, July 29th, and on Tuesday, August 3rd, I went in for a non-stress test. You know we never find out the baby’s gender ahead of time, and we must’ve forgotten to inform the ultrasound tech about this. After looking around the screen for a minute she said, “So, you’re having a boy?”

And we were all, “Um. We don’t know?”

And she was all, “Oh! Um, well, uh, it could be the cord.”

And we were all, “Riiiight.”

And she said, “Nuts. I did that last week, too. Sorry.”

We said, “No problem.” I had a 4D ultrasound at around 7 months and we suspected it was a boy when we saw the cute little “Sanchez boy mouth”. Well, that and the fact that the baby’s kidneys were enlarged a bit, which is a common issue with boys- and one that usually resolves on it’s own as it did in our case.

The baby was doing fine, but my blood pressure had been up a bit, so the doctor decided that I should come in to be induced on Thursday, exactly one week late. David had to work during the day, so we agreed to schedule our coming in for around 6:00 that evening. This would be my 8th VBAC.

I thought for a while after we moved to Oklahoma, that I may not be able to have a VBAC. Apparently most doctors’ insurance carriers in this area will not cover the liability for VBAC delivery. They just automatically schedule repeat sections. So, what do you do with a person like me who has 1 section and then 7 VBACs in their history? Well, I don’t believe there are too many people like me. And, I was NOT about to schedule a c-section. I mean, really? Thankfully, I found a doctor that could deliver me. And, not only could he deliver me, he is a Christian homeschooling father of five. Woohoo. Jackpot.
Not only was he encouraging in the “many children” realm, but prayed for me as well.

Thursday morning I woke up not feeling very well, and by early afternoon had a fever over 103. David came home on his lunch break maybe around 2, and I guess I must have looked pretty bad, because he went back and told them he needed to leave early. We headed out to the hospital around 4:00. They gave me Tylenol for the fever. The baby was very tachycardic with heartbeats nearing 200 beats per minute. My fever lowered down to around 101, (Travis’s heart rate lowered as well) so they decided to go ahead with the IV antibiotics, which I needed for the group B strep.

They gave me two IVs.

One in each arm.

What kind of prison torture hospital gives two IVs? I hate getting the IV. It is definitely the worst part about giving birth, and this time I had to have a “back up” IV.

Whatever.

After the first round of antibiotics, they started the pitocin. I was dilated maybe to a 3 or 4 at this point. I was having mild contractions, but they really didn’t feel any stronger than my normal Braxton Hicks.

Pitocin and I have a love/hate relationship. I love that it forces my babies to arrive so that they aren’t setting up extended stay residence in my uterus. I hate that it makes my belly feel like someone is stabbing me with a red hot poker iron. So, I am of course again faced with the epidural dilemma.

To get it or not to get it.

If I get the epidural, I most assuredly will begin throwing up and then will have lower extremities deader than the tree trunks snapped over by last year’s tornado. In addition to the fact that usually it doesn’t take on one side, so one side is numb and the other isn’t. I decided that I would just go as long as I could, and then reevaluate. Shortly before 9 pm, I decided that I just couldn’t do the pitocin/hot poker thing any longer and I would just go ahead and get the epidural. I told the anesthesiologist that the epidurals never take on one side, so he said he’d make extra sure that he got the needle in the middle. Well, he did. And the epidural really hurt. But, it did get numb on both sides. This time, they gave me a little button that I could use to control how much epidural I was getting. I thought that maybe if I didn’t increase the dosage, then I wouldn’t get nauseous. The epidural basically took away the "hot poker" feeling, but not much else. The nurse decided to go ahead and check me. I was at a 7.

Less than ten minutes later I felt a LOT of pressure and my water broke. I said, “David! The baby’s coming, go get the nurse.” My water has never broken on its on except for during the actual delivery. The nurse rushed back in and said, “It’s the water, and the head’s right there. Go on and get the doctor.” After about two pushes later, we had a Travis Clarke. All 9 pounds, 10 ounces and 22 inches of him.

I think I made a good call with the epidural. Travis was born about 15 minutes after I got it. It didn’t make me nauseous and I could still feel my legs, so I was able to get up and walk to the bathroom BY MYSELF.

The never really figured out what had caused my fever, but I had the antibiotics so whatever it was would have gotten knocked out anyway.