Amy’s Words
Jason’s Words
It all began on a Tuesday evening (August 9, 2011). It was beautiful out, which was a relief after a hot spell. Jason and I met at the Clark/Lake station, to take the green line of the El to Oak Park. Our midwife has 2 offices – one near our house in Lincoln Square and one in Oak Park. The Oak Park office is over an hour from our house on public transportation. Heather, the midwife that day, did a normal check-up and also a NST (Non Stress Test). She hooked up the monitors around my belly to record baby’s heart tones and my contractions for 20 minutes, and everything looked good.
Throughout the pregnancy we had become really close with Heather. One of the reasons I loved working with our midwives was the relationships we were able to build with them. The appointment on this Tuesday felt like catching up with a friend. We chatted with Heather about everything from her family to Oak Park. All the while Amy was being monitored, we talked like friends sharing updates.
After the NST, Heather did an exam to see if I was starting to dilate, and to sweep the membranes. Sweeping the membranes means to move the amniotic sac away from the cervix to induce contractions. As she swept the membranes, I had a gush of water. My water had broken. It may have been broken already, or broken then. There’s no way to know. To be sure, she asked me to do an “Ankle Test” when I got home. [Ankle Test - walk around pantsless. If fluid runs all the way down the leg to the ankle, its amniotic fluid]. I cleaned up, put a pad on, and we started on our way home. But first we stopped at a vegan cafe and each got a milkshake. Then we got on the green line and headed to the Loop.
At the Clark/Lake station, we got off the train to switch to the brown line. As we were walking to the stairs, I had a gusher. I’m talking a scene-from-a-movie gush. Ben and I have left our mark.
When I saw the puddle on the El platform, I immediately began laughing. It was so surreal to see. As Amy said, only in the movies did stuff like this happen. There weren’t many people at Clark/Lake (which is unusual) so the scene felt like our own private moment of disbelief.
This also meant meant that I had cold wet pants, and another 30 minute ride. Luckily, I was wearing black pants which you couldn’t tell were wet, and had some plastic shopping bags to sit on. On the El, I called Heather and let her know that I did my ankle test, and it was definitely my water. After what seemed like forever, we made it to the Western Brown Line stop. We still had the two block walk home from the station. We both REALLY had to pee because we drank too much milkshake. We cut through an alley on our walk back to try and make the walk quicker, but we made it half way down the alley and we both knew we weren’t going to make it. We decided that Jason should run ahead, unlock the door, and use the bathroom first so I could beeline. I realized I wasn’t going to make it. Rather than pop a squat and risk a public urination ticket, or an audience, I just stopped and peed my pants. When I made it home, I disrobed entirely on the back porch, and headed straight into the shower.
My labor hadn’t actually started. I had been having Braxton-Hicks contractions every night for a few weeks, but not labor contractions. So I took a shower, put my “pajamas” on (undies and a tank), and went to bed. At about 4am, I got up to use the bathroom and have a snack. I noticed that early labor had started – the contractions were still happening so late into the night when they normally stopped around 11pm or midnight, and they were more frequent. I decided not to tell Jason because he had to work that day and had a final for his class that night.
In hindsight, this was a smart move on Amy’s part. In the moment, I was buzzing all day and forced myself to believe Amy that everything was cool.
In the morning, I asked our good friends, Michael and Krista, to make a Trader Joe’s run for us. We needed to stock up for our homebirth. Heather, our midwife, said to take my temperature throughout the day since my water was broken. [A fever can indicate infection]. Michael and Krista arrived with their daughter and hung out for the day so that I wouldn’t get overexcited about labor. It can be a very long process. We hung out, ate, talked and played for the day. In the late afternoon, they helped me to finish inflating the birth pool and fill it with water. They left when I was started to have difficulty focusing on conversation during contractions. Almost as soon as they left, the contractions got more intense and frequent. I believe my body was waiting until I was alone to really let labor start.
I called the doulas, Kristen and Kate, and asked them to come over after work. Jason called after his test, and I told him labor had started and to hurry home.
This felt like a perfect continuation of the story line. I called her to tell her how my test went and she listened patiently. I asked how she was doing and she responded with “I’m in labor. I’ve been in early labor since about 3:00 PM. Hurry home, please.” The El ride home was truly out of this world. Everything I looked at felt meaningless. I remember looking at people and signs and feeling nothing. My entire body had shifted it’s energy to Amy and our soon-to-be-born son. On the ride home I ran into an acquaintance from undergrad. The conversation was brief and all I remember was saying, “I need to get home, my wife’s in labor.”
When he arrived, I was laboring in bed to try to conserve some energy. When the doulas arrived, they helped Jason figure out dinner, checked to make sure things were set up, checked with my midwife, notified the photographer, and gave me emotional and physical support. They took my temperature, which had spiked to 104, and called Heather. I knew that a fever meant trouble, and was in complete denial. I really did not want to go to the hospital.
Heather and Casey, another midwife, came a little while later and checked Little Moon’s heart tones, which were rapid. Eventually, Heather and Hillary (checking in with Heather via phone every little while) decided that we should transfer to the hospital. I was very disappointed and exhausted. By this point, I had the chills. I was under a couple blankets with all the fans off. It was a cool night, in comparison to the week before, but not chilly enough for the pile of blankets I was under. Heather suggested that I take a Tylenol and a cold shower for the fever, while they packed everything up. I had very little energy to stand, so I sat on an exercise ball in the shower while Jason held it still and let me lean on him.
I remember Heather suggesting that we try a cool shower. Amy was willing to do anything to prevent us from going to the hospital. We took an exercise ball and sat it in the tub and then turned the shower on to as cold as Amy could take it. Everyone in the apartment seemed to know the hospital was an inevitable trip, but at the same time were hopeful that something could bring her temperature down.
My temperature came down enough for me to feel a bit more human, but not enough to avoid the hospital. I got dressed and we headed out. I was in active labor at 4cm.
On the way to the hospital, we got pulled over for not having the taillights on. Jason got rude with the officer when he told him that I was in labor.
There are times when I can keep my emotions in check. There are also times when I have no ability to keep my emotions (or my mouth) controlled. The officer had no idea that Amy was in labor, but nonetheless, we rolled the back window down and I was a bit rude in telling him that we were having a baby. We were actually really lucky that the officer let us go. We heard later that if you are pulled over for something en route to giving birth, Chicago Police are supposed to escort you to the nearest hospital. This wouldn’t have been a horrible thing (since we would have gone to Swedish), but we were pre-registered at UIC.
Heather had called the midwives at UIC, and let them know I was coming. I didn’t have to go to triage, and I was so thankful. They took me right to my room, and the nurses started their care.
I had no idea how much time this saved and how smooth the hospital entrance was since we were pre-registered.
They had to place an IV with antibiotics, draw blood, hook me up to monitors, and get me into the ugly nightgown. Even though everything that was happening was the COMPLETE opposite of what I had hoped for, it was made better by our reception. The nurses were so sweet, and welcomed my whole birth team without creating any tension. That was true throughout my labor. [Later the midwife told me that they kind of blocked my room, to keep out any staff that would disapprove of our attempt at a homebirth. They really took care to protect the relaxed, zen-like atmosphere we created in the room.]
I was on guard entering the hospital, readying for battle to be sure we were listened to and treated with respect. It took all of 10 minutes for the hospital staff to break my guard down and make me feel comfortable. They got me right away when, during check in and getting Amy set-up, they asked us for our birth plan. That was comforting.
By midnight, I was checked into my room and the hospital staff had left us to labor. The homebirth midwives and my doulas encouraged me to be up and moving around into different positions – sitting on the birth ball, standing, walking, and going pee. They even wanted me to take a shower, but I didn’t have the strength. In my doula head, I knew I should be actively moving, but in my labor head, I couldn’t keep myself up. Heather described the chorioamnionitis as having the flu and being in labor at the same time. That’s a pretty accurate description. But at the time, I didn’t understand why I felt bad, and really did not want to admit how awful I felt. I tried to stay positive, because I knew it would get more intense, but I felt like a failure.
Honestly, at this point I had no idea how Amy was feeling. She was fading in and out of awareness and I did my best to be a support. Our doula team really made me feel comfortable at this point and got me to chill (and eat some of the Thai food that we had previously purchased for dinner). I knew Amy was laboring, but I also knew that something was wrong (otherwise we wouldn’t have been in the hospital). I didn’t really grasp what an infection or chorioamnionitis meant. At this point I was going on 5 hours of sleep from the night before and was starting to feel the mixed effects of emotion and fatigue. I was never scared for Amy (should I have been?). She is too strong to have been affected by anything. I was really just anxious and excited. Our son was going to be born soon, but we were now in a hospital and I had no idea what to expect.
At some point, the homebirth midwives left to check on their families and catch a bit of sleep. I think they left at 3 or 4am. At 5am, I asked for an epidural. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but I thought if I had an epidural, no one would ask me to sit on the birth ball or get in the shower. I would be able to lay down and rest. Doula Kate was having NONE of that, and really kept me true to my Birth Wishes. She and Kristen reasoned with me (Kate with hands on hips) and I chose not to have the epidural, if they would let me sit down for 30 minutes. It was a deal. [I am so grateful I did not have an epidural so early.] I raised the back of the bed so it was upright and leaned against it between contractions. During contractions, the only position that was comfortable was to be sitting upright and vocalizing. I closed my eyes, hummed in a deep voice with relaxed throat muscles, breathed deeply and focused on relaxing my pelvic muscles during contractions. I did this for the next 5 hours. The hospital staff thought I was a Hypnobirther, but I was just meditating.
Doula Love - Kristen is wearing fabric from our wedding 
When Amy asked for the epidural, that was the first time I truly knew how much pain she was in. I kept getting hints from the doulas and midwives that the combination of normal labor and her infection might make things intense, but I had no idea how to gauge it. I did my best to be supportive of her choice for an epidural. My role was to be as best a support and a voice for her as I could. I am glad Kate and Kristen were there. They really stepped up here and helped Amy make an informed decision. I jokingly called Kate the “Militant Doula” when she put her foot down. She was not about to let Amy get an epidural if she didn’t need one; she was going to make Amy believe in her own strength.
The midwife staff changed, and our newest midwife arrived. She gave me some test results that the previous midwife neglected to give. Basically, it was all bad news – I was sick, the baby was having a poor reaction to the infection and labor, etc. There was discussion of a C-section, which I declined. But there was still a worry that I would need one in the end. If you have an emergency C-section, they will give you general anesthesia if there is no time to place an epidural. That means you’re unconscious for the birth of your baby and several hours after. I asked everyone to leave the room so I could talk to Jason. We decided that an epidural was a good choice. I definitely did not want to be unconscious and I was losing heart. I was doing great when left alone, but every time the staff told me bad news I felt like I couldn’t do it. When my homebirth midwives and doulas came back in, they said they had talked it over in the hallway, and had the same thoughts. I felt a little better about making this choice, knowing that, separately, we had reached the same decision.
At this point, more than ever, I realized the power of having a good birth team. We had four amazing women all centering their attention on supporting Amy (and me) in our decisions.
At 10am, I was 9cm and they placed the epidural. Right after the epidural, I was complete at 10cm. I wanted to labor down (wait for the baby’s head to get low, so I wouldn’t need to spend so much energy pushing). I rested for an hour before pushing. I didn’t sleep because I had a “window” of pain on the left side of my belly. Before the epidural, I had felt ALL the pain in my cervix. If someone touched my arm, or even breathed heavy near me, I felt it in my cervix and nowhere else. Now that I couldn’t feel most of my pelvis, I realized there had been labor pain everywhere else too.
At 1:30p, the midwives came back and said it was time to push. During my pregnancy, I did not envision my labor happening this way. I didn’t want to have an epidural, lose sensation in my body, and have to be told when I was having a contraction and to push. It still makes me sad to think about it. But that was my situation. So my team told me when I had a contraction, and I pushed. Some of the effects of chorioamnionitis( infection in the bag of waters) are a weakened and hypersensitive uterus. So I kept pushing as hard as I could, but my uterus just couldn’t do it. I pushed for 2 hours. Little Moon’s heart rate showed that he was not faring well. The OB had been in and out throughout the labor, and the threat of her return loomed in the hallway.
There was an entire crew of “specialists” starting to swarm. This is around the time that I felt the atmosphere of the room really shift. For our entire time in the room so far, even with heightened emotions, the atmosphere was really nurturing. All of the staff that we had worked with treated us like guests. They had jobs to do and they did them with care and compassion. Even the team that placed the epidural took a lot of care to do their job and not create much of a shift in the energy of the room. As the OB and pediatricians started to trickle in, compassion seemed to trickle out. As with all of my commentary so far, these thoughts here are how I saw the scene. What I saw, as the OB and pediatrician teams started filtering in and out, was technicians. They had a sole focus on treatment. They may have had a life to take care of, but that life was a machine that had parts that needed to be fixed. I didn’t expect the OB or pediatrician to come in and be our midwives or doulas. They are in different professions. The OB cares for a lot people and cannot afford to give too much emotion out during every interaction otherwise they would burn out fast. Nonetheless, the best word I can use to describe them both is cold.
She eventually did come back and said she wanted to use forceps. Jason and I discussed forceps, vacuum extraction and a C-section with her. Of the three options, forceps is the best for the baby, so that’s what we did. I’ve seen a forceps delivery before, and it took me months to get over. I was terrified to experience it. I asked for another dose of the epidural and that really took the edge off. It doesn’t mask all sensation, but I can’t imagine not having it.
As I mentioned before, the atmosphere of the room had undergone a drastic shift up until this point. Seeing the forceps in the OB’s hands was overwhelming. I suddenly had the realization that Amy was about to go through A LOT of pain and we were about to have baby. At this point I was standing near the head of the bed holding Amy. As much as I wanted to see our son born, I didn’t want to see the forceps go in to retrieve him.
Once the forceps were in place, I pushed twice and Benjamin Jason was born at 3:30pm on Thursday, August 12, 2011.
The scene was surreal. It all happened so quick. The forceps were in place and suddenly Amy let out a concentrated burst of a scream. It was short and shook my whole body. I don’t remember when I started crying, but I was shaking uncontrollably. We had made a deal with the pediatrician to let us keep the baby in the room after birth. If they felt like he needed to be monitored they were going to bring him to the nursery. They gave us about 45 minutes with Benjamin in our room. Immediately after the birth, Amy, the doulas, and the midwives all knocked me out of my frozen state of shock to go meet our son. I took off my shirt and within 5 minutes of him being born he was skin-to-skin.
I hemorrhaged during repairs and couldn’t sit up, stand or use my arms after the birth. The next day, I received a blood transfusion to restore some iron. Benjamin was taken to the nursery and kept there for a week on antibiotics. The doctors ran many tests to see if he had an infection, but thankfully he did not. They did a great job of freaking us out, and turning the situation into a nightmare. In return, we were a pain in their sides. Jason and I stayed with Ben for the entire week, hardly even putting him down. We asked tons of questions, and were adamant that he not be fed any formula. I felt terrible that his first experience in the world was to be hooked up to IVs and poked and prodded with needles and blood draws. I still cry when I think about it, and its been 6 months. I think the staff sighed a huge breath of relief when we were discharged.
Jason will write about the week after the birth. For the most part, we were impressed by the midwives and nurses during labor and delivery. A few NICU nurses were very kind to us, but we didn’t like the team of residents making rounds. We felt like we were needlessly being run through the “standard procedure” mill.
My birth experience will certainly make me a more understanding and nurturing doula. But as a girl trying to avoid the hospital birth system in America, I was disappointed. However, I feel that all the interventions used were necessary in this situation. I believe that sometimes interventions are overused. But Jason and I prepared ourselves with information, asked many questions, and worked with our birth team and the hospital staff to make informed decisions. We were dealt a tough card, but I think we made the best choices we could given the circumstances. While I wanted a homebirth, I am so grateful that we received our care in the hospital. I have heard stories of chorioamnionitis with sad endings. So, the three major positives were that I didn’t have a C-section, we established breastfeeding, and I have the most amazing, healthy baby in the world.
Day 3
