Tag: Obstetrics

Rebecca

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Founder of Iris Doula Care, Birth Doula

Griffin, Georgia

I knew from a young age that I wanted to be involved in birth work. At age 10 years old I was able to witness the birth of my younger sister. It was not the plan for me to attend. My mother’s quick labor, lack of babysitters and wildly different hospital policies than today made this possible. And while this experience would have scarred some young people, it lit a fire inside of me.

I found my passion early and began to pursue it, serving expecting women. It was not until the births of my own children that I realized how proper support is vital during birth and postpartum. You see, each of my births were vastly different. This has allowed me to view birth, postpartum and even loss in multiple lights.

  My first born came earth side at 40 weeks and 4/7 days. We attempted natural induction methods at home and we tried all the things. I mean ALL of them! From my experience, castor oil was not the best route to take. While it did kick start labor, I was not effaced enough for things to progress smoothly. About mid-way through my labor, we discovered that he was occiput posterior or “sunny side up” which contributed to progression being slow and painful. After thirty long hours of contractions, I chose to have an epidural and it picked up quickly. I mean, I still pushed for two hours, but in spite of the ups and downs, I was able to birth him OP after thirty-eight hours of labor.

  My second pregnancy, unfortunately, did not come to full fruition as I miscarried at 10 weeks gestation. I went to my local ER around 10:00 pm after speaking with my midwife about spotting I was having. We waited to be seen for hours. My spotting changed drastically to large amounts of bleeding while waiting in the ER. When I asked for assistance the staff offered me nothing, not even something that I was able to change into. I was told, “we see blood all of the time. It’s not an emergency”. The intake nurse also told me that she had personally had multiple miscarriages and that they were “no big deal”. I’m uncertain as to why she thought that was appropriate to say to a mother who was terrified about losing her baby. If that was not enough, I was also trying to contact my boss who was out of state on vacation. When I finally reached her to let her know what was happening she said, “I’m on vacation. You will need to find someone to cover your shifts”. At the time I worked for a maternity clothing store. I never returned to work.

The ER doctor conducted an ultrasound that showed the baby only measuring 6 weeks and I had likely lost it weeks ago. I was able to leave the ER after that traumatic experience and release everything in the comfort of my home. Though I would come to conceive my rainbow baby, the baby I lost that night forever remains in my heart and will never be replaced.

   My third pregnancy and second full term birth was a whirlwind. I chose to be cared for by a midwifery group during this pregnancy and was pleased at how attentive they were to me. They found my baby to be OP (again!) around 37 weeks gestation. I spent the next few weeks trying all the tricks in the book to get baby in prime birthing position. It was not until I visited the chiropractor, whose adjustment immediately provided me relief, that baby moved into the occiput anterior position. I was had my adjustment at 9:00 am and by 2:00 pm contractions began. They continued on into the night and gained intensity with every hour. We made our way to the hospital when I began groaning that was coming from deep within. I was sure I was going to have him in the car.

We arrived at the hospital and I was 6 centimeters dilated. I begged the midwife for an epidural and she informed me that I most likely did not have time. As I moved from the triage room to the birthing suite and was transitioning on the walk over. When the midwife broke my water, my baby decided he wanted to come too. The midwife began to yell for assistance, basically holding him inside until she had an extra pair of hands in the room! Moments later and medication free, I delivered our second baby boy. My labor time was drastically reduced by my baby being in the correct position for delivery. I always recommend people seeing a chiropractor during pregnancy for this very reason.

My fourth and final pregnancy was quite an adventure. I had a tougher time with morning sickness and fatigue, but attributed it to being a mother of two young boys. After finding out we were having a girl, our hearts were filled with joy! The rest of the pregnancy moved along smoothly until I had an ultrasound during my 35-week appointment. I had never had this done with my previous pregnancies, but they were concerned about the presentation of my belly upon palpation. I am so very thankful that an ultrasound was performed because it was found that our baby was in the frank breech position and that my amniotic fluid index was exceptionally low, (4 on a scale of 1-10). My midwife sent me to the labor and delivery unit to be monitored and receive fluids two days before Thanksgiving. Thankfully, my baby was showing no signs of distress during our stay. I was released to home in the morning to continue with rest and increasing my oral fluids. The plan was for me to return for a follow-up on Saturday to have another AFI and NST.

I rested as much as I could over the holiday and even able to squeeze in an appointment with my chiropractor who attempted to assist baby into optimum positioning. When I returned on Saturday, which also happened to be my birthday, baby was still in a breech position and my AFI had decreased again. Because of the findings, it was recommended that she be delivered that day at 36 weeks gestation for her wellbeing. I immediately began being prepped for a cesarean delivery and while unexpected, received the most wonderful birthday gift in my arms a couple hours later.

I found my c-section birth to be my most difficult for various reasons. The ones most prominent in my mind are the spinal tap caused me to itch uncontrollably all over my body and was quite painful. I also had a skin reaction from the steri-strips along my scar line. While I am thankful for modern interventions in times like these, I was disappointed with how difficult my recovery was. It was so different from my vaginal births. I had not realized all the different struggles that can come along with birthing this way.

My variety of births has given me perspective that no everyone possesses. And while I did not plan it this way, I consider it to be a privilege. My stories can help past and future mothers, and/or families who are experiencing a similar situation. I hope to use my personal experience in providing the most exceptional care for the birthing community.

Heather

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Labor & Delivery RN, Founder of A Life in Labor, Co-Creator of Loving Your Labor Academy

Riverside, California

I became a labor and delivery nurse fresh out of college with almost no experience in childbearing or motherhood. But as I encouraged and assisted new persons to bring their babies into the world, my passion for pregnancy and birth grew more and more every day. It wasn’t until I was pregnant with my first baby, two years into my career, that I realized how much more there was to childbirth. What I saw in the labor room was just the beginning.

Laboring with mothers as a full-time career, I thought I knew it all. I thought that I understood what it meant to give birth. I thought that I knew what I needed to do in order to have the unmedicated birth that I wanted. After my water broke at home at 1.5 cm dilated and getting an epidural at 4cm, I realized I was wrong.

Bringing my baby home for the first time was a shock. Again, I had experience with newborn babies, and I felt like I was born to be a mother. In my heart of hearts, I knew that I could be an incredible mother. The problem? Having a newborn baby was so much harder and mentally taxing than I could have ever imagined. Even with all the education and advice others had given me.

My baby seemed to never sleep. He had terrible infant acid reflux, throwing up what seemed like his entire feed every time I nursed him. He always seemed to be fussy and uncomfortable. As a result, I found myself suffering from postpartum anxiety feeling like I was unable to do the right thing for him. The anxiety was confusing and terrifying. Each night when I should have been asleep, I was google-searching “Is this normal” for every little thing my baby or I was experiencing throughout our fourth trimester.

As I tried to overcome the struggles of new motherhood, I constantly found myself on blogs and mommy groups online. I was searching desperately for someone to say, “me too”, “I went through that too”, “yes, your story sounds like mine and this is how I got through it”. Unfortunately, I never found those responses I desperately needed to hear. Everything I was finding were sugar-coated stories of newborn heaven or advice that sounded like eventually, it gets easier. There was no real advice about what to do in the meantime, during the struggle.

It was about nine months after delivery when I had overcome my postpartum anxiety and finally found my groove as a new mom. One day, my husband and I were walking down the street at our local outdoor mall when my eyes met with another mother. She was pushing a stroller that carried a newborn baby. When we were looking at each other, I felt like I could feel her struggle. She didn’t look upset or have tears in her eyes. She simply looked like a tired new mom… exactly as I did. Totally put together on the outside but struggling on the inside. I just wanted to reach out and say “I know what you’re going through. How can I help?”.

My husband noticed me smile at her and said something that changed me forever. He said “It’s like moms have an unspoken connection where they know what each other is going through with just a quick glance. It’s like they have to say ‘Hello’. Moms are just…connected”. In that moment I made a decision that I had never even thought about prior. I said to my husband, “I think I’m going to start a blog”. 

After that day, I started recalling the things that I needed when I was pregnant, preparing for labor, and trying to make it through a stormy new motherhood experience. I started writing blog posts from my heart. They were always monster blog posts that seemed to never end. I had so much on my mind and in my heart that I wanted to share. I told myself that if even one new mom came across this blog in search of help and guidance, I felt like I had accomplished something meaningful.

Let’s fast forward to when I got pregnant with my second son. This pregnancy came after two consecutive miscarriages. My heart changed in this period of time because of my losses. I made the decision that I would dedicate time to becoming empowered and embrace my ability as a woman to carry and birth my baby in a way that I knew I was meant to.

I did my research. I submerged myself into as many resources as I could to prepare my body and mind for a successful unmedicated birth…and I did it. I had the birth that I wanted, and I felt like a superwoman. I felt so fortunate that everything flowed the way that I wanted it to, because of what I experienced with my first labor and seen so many times in my work.

The confidence that I had in this pregnancy overflowed into my birth and then continued to grow in the newborn stage with my new baby. I had confidence in myself, my body, and my baby. My outcome this time around inspired me to reach out to moms in a whole new way. I had already been sharing my experience with pregnancy, birth, and the fourth trimester but I felt like there was an even greater need in empowerment around these things. 

After the birth of my second baby, I made it my mission to empower as many women in their ability to carry, birth, and feed their babies with confidence and allowing their bodies to lead the way. 

As fate would have it, as I created a labor and birth course called Loving Your Labor Academy, COVID-19 hit the world forcing everyone to find resources online. In this time, I connected with so many new moms who were searching online for someone to help them in their time of need. I could not have ever imagined how many lives I would impact when my goal a short time ago was to simply help one new mom. I’ve helped thousands of new moms-to-be achieve a birth that they felt good about and look back on with love. 

I have been amazed how a moment in my life, that I interpreted as one of the hardest experiences I have ever gone through, can end up being the catalyst that has connected and positively impacted so many lives around the world. 

I am so thankful for being a birth worker. I have a driving passion for helping and empowering women just as I needed when I was in their shoes.

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for. 

Do you love birth? Heck yeah you do!

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Jasmin

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Jasmin

Founder of More Than Maternal, Masters in Business Administration

Wilmington, North Carolina

Pregnancy was never part of the equation, at least not at the time it wasn’t.

My life was in the ultimate transition when we found out that we were pregnant. I was a new graduate student who was newly moved, newly employed, and newly engaged while on the rocks with my fiancé. And to add icing on the cake my fiancé (who’s in the military) was just informed that he was ordered to deploy to Japan for six months. Not only did it mean that he would be away for most of my pregnancy; but that I would also be alone working in North Carolina, pursuing my MBA, while attempting to heal a fractured relationship from thousands of miles away. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement. I was confused for multiple reasons (one because our birth control failed us), unprepared, and wasn’t sure I had the strength to handle all of this on my own.

I was very scared.  We both were. So much so, to the point where I decided to seek alternative options. I made an appointment at Planned Parenthood to consider what options were available for us. There we received our first ultrasound that officially confirmed our pregnancy. There are many people who have strong opinions on organizations like Planned Parenthood; but as a woman, I can only speak to my experience alone. For someone who felt lost and confused, it was there that I received my first level of support and education when it came to my reproductive rights. I never once was pressured to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with it. As I recall the doctor saying, “we will always be here, take the time you need to make sure you truly want to do this. This is your decision and yours alone. We know how hard this can be and we are here to support you with whichever decision you decide to make”. Those were the words that I desperately needed to hear. It was supportive, it was compassionate, and it was empowering. Most importantly, it wasn’t judgmental, and it reminded me that I am ultimately the one that is in control. It gave me the agency to realize that no matter how overwhelming these next nine months might be, I had the willpower, strength, and faith to pursue this new journey.

I soon realized that there were so many things to do in such a little amount of time that I didn’t know where to start. My schedule did not afford me the time to read pregnancy blogs, watch YouTube videos of pregnancy “must haves”, or dissect pregnancy articles that were mostly based in personal opinion.

The advice I received from family members were valuable, but also outdated. Doctor’s visits were centered on my baby and less so on me. I slowly felt like people weren’t seeing me as Jasmin, but more so as a vessel for this beautiful growing baby. My values of career, ambition, fun, and free spirit were being dimmed by everyone’s growing value (and concern) of my baby. It all started to feel like a zero-sum game where I needed to choose either my identity or my baby, making little room for both to harmoniously coexist. Working too hard at work or school left me with feelings of “don’t overdo it, you don’t want to add stress to the baby”. And sleeping the whole day would leave feelings of guilt and self-talk of “I could/should be doing x y z right now.” I felt like I had to choose one over the other but could never have both.

It wasn’t until I was introduced to pregnancy’s two best friends-surrender and intuition- that I finally understood the power of pregnancy, and ultimately myself.

Surrender means to yield power, control, and possession of another upon compulsion. Surrendering taught me that I was holding onto the power of other’s people’s opinions, the control of maintaining an image of feminine perfection, and the possession of my inner struggles. I needed to surrender all of these things so that I could fully embrace my transformation. Intuition means to understand and know something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning. This gave me the permission to trust my ability to go inward for answers instead of looking outward. I found that looking outside for answers was leaving me with self-doubt, procrastination, and worry. Thinking with my body and spirit allowed me to trust my internal compass of judgement and discernment. It gave me the confidence to speak up, ask questions, and question others when I felt that something was array with me or my baby. These two virtues that once were dormant, were now louder and prouder than ever. It empowered me, directed me, and nurtured me. Ultimately it gave me the autonomy to see not just in me, but in every woman, how powerful and capable we all are. 

This lesson was also a foreshadow of what I needed to harness for my labor. Like most moms, I felt relatively prepared to deliver my baby. My birth plan was ready, my hospital bag was packed, and my fiancé finally returned home. The distance in our relationship was needed time away for us to carefully reflect, acknowledge our challenges, and heal ourselves separately. We didn’t know it at the time, but it was the best thing that could’ve happened for our relationship. We reunited better than when we left and were ready to heal our relationship together and united.

What we were not prepared for was that a life in North Carolina was prime for hurricanes, and there was a massive one coming our way. Hurricane Florence, a category 4 hurricane, was set to cross our path and cause major damage. All women, 36 weeks pregnant and further, were required to evacuate immediately. This meant driving to my in-laws in Delaware and possibly having the baby there. Not the plan! Those scary feelings, similar to when I first found out I was pregnant soon began to rear their nasty heads. Yet this time I had self-confidence, surrender, and intuition on my side. Although still there, those feelings in no way overcame me like they did the first time. This time I felt calm, knowing, and internally strong. No matter what was going to happen, I knew deeply that me and my baby were going to be okay.

Two weeks later and one week past my due date, we were on our way back from Delaware and on to the hospital. I walked into an induced labor, artificial breaking of my waters, an epidural, and stalled contractions at nine centimeters. This ultimately landed me in a c-section for my delivery. All my steps through labor were manufactured, never ever considered by me or written in my birth plan, and completely out of my control. Everything that I had planned did not go as planned (I hope you see a theme here 😊).

Was it hard? Yes. Was it disappointing?  Yes. Do I wish I prepared differently? Yes. Did I cry a lot? Yes. But did I trust the situation and my intuition enough to surrender to the process? Yes. Did I ultimately deliver a beautiful and healthy baby boy? Yes. Did I come out as a healthy and happy mom? Yes, and yes.

The things that I once feared are now my weapons of strength and measures of growth. I successfully received my MBA from Duke University, work in Early Education nonprofit, am happily married, have a beautiful support system here in North Carolina; and all while having more compassion, self-confidence, and understanding of myself.  

All in all, the pregnancy journey was truly that- a journey. The highs, the lows, the “a ha” moments, the transformations; are all factors in showing a woman the power that is within her. Which is what ultimately led me to create a practical and compassionate app solution called More Than Maternal.

More Than Maternal was created for women with busy lifestyles to nurture and prepare them fully and confidently for the arrival of their baby. It uses four intentions: mindset (mental wellness & building connections), money (financial planning & assessments), means (employment planning & workplace adjustment), and mission (self-advocacy & maternity rights) so that women feel centered, prepared, and powerful as they navigate their daily lives while pregnant.

The pregnancy journey is unique and I know that my journey was for me and me alone. But I also understand the similarities we face as well. It is my hope that my story and shared experiences will continue to unite women in support, education, compassion, and self-love. 

Angela

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Founder of La Luna Counseling and Wellness – Master of Arts, Licensed Professional Counselor

Avon-by-the-Sea, New Jersey

I gave birth to my son in August 2017. I had a magical idea of what childbirth would be. As most seasoned mothers would know, we can’t control everything that will come, and I was mistaken. I was in labor for a total of twenty-three hours. Twenty-two of those hours were without an epidural. When they finally were able to give me one, I was 9 cm dilated. The epidural was of course unable to fully kick in by the time I was holding my baby boy. Upon the final push and hearing his cry, he was taken from me and put in an incubator. I was unaware that I had developed an infection during my labor. My water had been broken for too long and as a result, I had a fever that reached 103 degrees. My baby boy Tony had a fever like me from being in utero as I was developing chorioamnionitis. Within fifteen minutes of being earth side, Tony’s fever subsided, and I was given antibiotics.

I had “baby blues” for the first two weeks along with the typical sleep deprivation. He had colic and was hard to console. Anyone who has had to deal with a colic baby knows the pain. I was unhappy and short tempered, but I thought it was normal. I had an unhappy baby who would cry for no reason, so why would I be happy? After about six months things finally began to simmer down. His colic went away, and I began feeling like myself again. I wish I knew then what I know now. Those feelings I was experiencing were actually postpartum depression, but I suffered in silence.

After my son turned two, I was ready to try for a second baby. I figured if I could handle one, how hard could one more really be? When I became pregnant, I had more mood swings and anger then I did with my first. I chocked it up to other life stressors we were having, like moving homes and the stress of handling a toddler and living during a global pandemic.

I had created a birth plan for this delivery, but it went sideways just as the first did. Because of COVID-19, my doctors wanted to induce me. They wanted to get me in and out of the hospital as quick as possible. By minimizing the amount of time, we were there, it reduced the chance of us picking the virus and the hospital was short staffed due to increased cases. I never wanted to be induced. This caused my anxiety to rise significantly. I hoped and prayed that she would just come naturally without needing an induction.

I attempted to bring labor on naturally, but nothing worked, and I had to be induced. Part of my birth plan that was slightly different than my first was to have a doula help guide me through labor. I was unable to have my doula with me because of the restrictions from the pandemic. Thankfully I was able to have my husband unlike some neighboring hospitals who were not allowing any support people. I tried to see how long I could go without an epidural since I didn’t feel that I needed it with my first labor. I labored for a total of 8 hours. The contractions felt like they were faster, more intense because of using additional medications to progress labor. I ended up asking for an epidural, but the anesthesiologist could not place it. She poked at my spine five times without success. By the time she finally accessed the epidural space I was relieved emotionally, but physically felt the same. I had one leg that was a little numb, but it didn’t feel like the contractions were any more manageable. They said they could attempt to replace the epidural, but that was an unbearable pain I didn’t want to go through again.

About an hour after that horrifying experience, I was pushing. On April 9, 2020 I gave birth to my daughter, Luna Rose.  When she was 24 hours old, I was sitting at home on my couch with her. I was able to stay in the hospital for three days when I had my son. I had family members coming to visit with balloons and gifts. Where I delivered, birthing during the pandemic felt as if the hospital staff was shooing me out as soon as I was crowning. While I was thankful to be home, away from Covid & with my other child, I don’t know that I was fully prepared before I was discharged. I thought to myself it was just nerves. I’ve handled newborn stress before; I can do it again. The baby blues paired with sleep deprivation brought me back to the same place, but it felt more intense and overwhelming. After the first two weeks I thought these feelings would subside, but they didn’t.

I was crying nonstop. I was dreading getting out of bed when Luna would cry. The intrusive thoughts were becoming louder and louder. I knew something was not right. I told my husband one night that I felt he adjusted to becoming a parent of two better than I had. I felt that my children were better off being raised with him then they were with me.

I was planning on packing my bags and leaving to give them a better life. Through my tears, I planned out my escape and wanted to let him know that this was goodbye. My husband realized this was not normal and couldn’t attribute it to sleep deprivation anymore.

I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and anxiety. Being able to speak the words out loud was possibly the most difficult for me. We always want to be strong and power through, not expose our weakness. It may have been because of the stigma associated with postpartum depression and anxiety, or because it’s hard to be honest with yourself when you are having challenging moments in life. I finally had the courage to stand up and speak my truth but wanting help and finding the help were two different battles.

I spoke to my OBGYN, but I felt as if they didn’t know how to handle this behavior. I was referred to the only phone number my doctor had. It was a free service in my area, but they were inundated with clients because of the pandemic. I felt like an anonymous value on a list with hundreds of others.  There was such disconnect on Zoom; I couldn’t tell if my therapist even truly heard me. I wondered if other people were possibly going through this as well. A light bulb went off in my head. I wanted to help other people who were experiencing the same challenges as me.

This became my motivation for getting better. I was already a licensed therapist, but I wanted to help support people in their pregnancy and postpartum period. I began taking classes, trainings and working on becoming a state certified Perinatal Mood Disorder Specialist. I opened La Luna Counseling and Wellness in September 2020. My advice to those who are pregnant or have birthed recently is to be honest with yourself and get help when you know something isn’t feeling right. There are others out there who are going through the same thing as you. We can support each other.

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for. 

Do you love birth? Heck yeah you do!

Don’t miss our weekly story. Subscribe below to get new stories & advice delivered directly to your inbox.

Jasmine

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Labor & Delivery RN – Perinatal Loss Certification (in progress)

Concord, CA

I’ve always been someone who finds joy in helping others. Especially with accomplishing goals that they aren’t able to do alone. After I had my twins via a scheduled cesarean section, I was left wanting more. Baby A was breech, so surgery was schedule for 38 weeks gestation. I ended up being sick with the flu and was contracting away so it was decided to deliver them at that, a week early. I always planned on having two children and felt complete in that, but I didn’t have the chance to experience birth the way I had hoped to. I personally wanted an unmedicated vaginal delivery.  

I had donated eggs back in my twenties, so I already had some knowledge about surrogacy. When my kids were three years old and after doing more research, I decided to start my own surrogate journey.

During my first surrogacy, I carried for a couple who have been through years of infertility with no success. This was their second child, and the mother had a traumatic complication after the first birth. Our relationship during this journey was strained. There was a tremendous amount of anxiety and control to the table because of her past experiences. It was very difficult for her to trust me. Thankfully, I had an easy pregnancy and an even easier delivery. I was induced at 41 weeks for post-dates. I accomplished my VBAC and birthed a healthy baby. After the delivery, we parted ways and have never spoken again.

Although I was able to have the birth experience I hoped for, I still was left wanting more from my surrogate experience. While trying to come to terms with the fact that I would never do it again slowly changed to me exploring for another surrogate couple. This time around, while looking I had very specific parameters of who I wanted to help conceive a baby. I was quickly matched with two wonderful men who lived only an hour away. This would be their first baby. When we met, we instantly had a connection and quickly became friends through the process.

This pregnancy was more difficult overall, probably because I was older and carrying a different baby. It was very different than my previous two pregnancies. Instead of having to be induced, like with my first surrogacy, I spontaneously went into labor when my water broke pretty close to my due date. When I arrived at the hospital, I was 4 cm dilated and strongly contracting. There was no reason to believe that my labor wouldn’t go quickly and easily. With the last delivery I decided to get an epidural at 6 cm. This time I was hoping once again that I might be able to go natural, expecting the delivery to be faster. After six painful IV sticks, I gave in and got the epidural so I could rest.

I progressed slowly. Eventually I ended up with an intrauterine monitor and a fetal scalp electrode. I was augmented with Pitocin to help labor continue moving forward. The baby didn’t seem to be doing as well and then suddenly, there was another issue.

I began having terrible pain across my midsection that radiated up to my left shoulder. Compared to my labor contractions from all my pregnancies, this felt very different. I talked with the nurses, the midwife and the doctor. I told them all that things didn’t feel right and just before this I was tolerating my contractions well. This constant soreness, it was more painful even in between the contractions. They checked for the baby’s position and looked for internal bleeding with the ultrasound multiple times. There was no evidence of things being amiss, so we kept proceeding with a vaginal birth.

Before I knew it I was complete and ready to push. I pushed with all of my strength, but nothing was happening. This was unsettling because with my previous vaginal delivery I only pushed for one hour. I felt like my body was out of sync with my efforts. Pushing didn’t feel effective and the baby wasn’t moving down. Almost four hours later, I still hadn’t delivered. The doctor asked the fathers if they can use a vacuum to help baby out. I deferred the decision-making over to them because I was in no state to make decisions. I could barely speak because I was in so much pain.

They attempted a vacuum delivery through several pushes, giving breaks in between to allow me to push without the vacuum. Although it is standard to do three pulls or three pop offs with the vacuum, five total pulls with pop offs were attempted. I knew this was wrong, but I was determined to get this baby out of me that I just kept going. Ultimately a c-section was called, and I was rolled into the OR. I was writhing in the bed and couldn’t even stay still enough to keep my legs on the table. It was decided that my epidural wasn’t working well enough to use it for the surgery, and I was put under general anesthesia for the delivery.

My wife and the two dads were sitting back in my hospital room with no idea how myself or the baby was doing. It turned out that when they got into my abdomen, I did indeed have a uterine rupture which was my gut feeling all along. The baby’s APGAR scores were very low, and he was sent over to Children’s Hospital to undergo cooling to preserve brain tissue and treat a very deep hematoma on his head. The dads didn’t want to see him until they knew that I was going to be okay. Luckily, we both survived and today that baby is three years old. He is beautiful, giant and speaks three different languages. Thank God he suffers no ill effects from the events of that day. 

Recovery from the uterine rupture was different. Overall, it took about the same amount of time, but my body felt different. What caused the rupture is also what saved my life. The scar from my previous c-section had poorly healed and had very little blood exchange between the edges of the scar. This caused it to open easily, but also kept my bleeding to a minimum. Which might have been why it was difficult to identify on ultrasound. It allowed me to keep my uterus, although I should not ever carry again.

I continue to be an advocate for trial of labor after cesarean and vaginal birth after cesarean, but I am much more cautious when listening to my moms and my own gut. I requested my hospital records after this day. I wanted to have an idea of what the providers were thinking when I was reporting my symptoms. From what I can gather, my symptoms were being rationalized and nobody seemed able to call out the elephant in the room. The parents of the baby boy told me they saw the fear on everyone’s faces when doing the vacuum. My gut feeling is that if one person would’ve spoken up, the events could have been very different.

This delivery occurred at a different hospital than I work at. After doing some research, I found out that the hospital does not do any sort of debrief of adverse events or outcomes. No legal action was taken against the hospital, but what I really wished was that a peer review and debrief could’ve been done. I wanted to know that perhaps the staff could have learned from this experience. Most of the time VBACs are done very safely and are successful. I was the exception to this rule.

I know this has changed my nursing perspective and I hope it has made me a better nurse. I’ve promised myself to listen to my patients and my gut when something just doesn’t seem right. Always follow your instincts and hopefully you have an advocate in the room that can speak up when you were unable to.

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for. 

Do you love birth? Heck yeah you do!

Don’t miss our weekly story. Subscribe below to get new stories & advice delivered directly to your inbox.

Meagan

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Co-Founder of The VBAC Link – Birth Doula

Salt Lake City, Utah

In 2011, I delivered our first baby girl via Cesarean. After twelve hours of labor and getting to 3 cm dilated, I was told that I needed to go to the OR for “failure to progress.” I was really sad but trusted in my provider that a cesarean was needed.

We became pregnant again in 2013 and I wanted to have a VBAC. My same provider said that he was supportive and seemed to be on board. At 36 weeks I had a weird feeling when I met with him but was too scared to switch or do anything about it. March 2014, my water broke just like it did the first time and after eighteen hours my body had not yet kicked into labor. My provider came in and said that it had been long enough. Even though the baby and I were not showing any signs of distress or infection, the chances of infection were high and we needed to go to the OR. Once again heartbroken, I agreed and walked down to the OR.

When we found out we were pregnant again in 2015, I knew from the get go what I wanted for this pregnancy and birth. I felt most everyone would be skeptical of my choices to go for an unmedicated VBA2C and at times, I can admit I was nervous. I gathered all my records from Lainey’s and Lyla’s births and took them with me to each Doctor. I read them over and over again myself trying to catch any REAL reason for my last two cesareans. I was told by most that they felt it was safe for me to have a VBA2C. A few said they didn’t believe I ever really had a chance to labor and I just didn’t find anything I felt really should make it so I couldn’t try. I found an amazing provider (Dr. Sean Edmunds) who was supportive and I felt very comfortable with him. But something still just didn’t feel right to me about birthing in a hospital.

After meeting with a midwife that I attended a birth with over the holidays something told me that’s where I needed to be. It took some prayers and lots of time, but at 24 weeks pregnant we made the final decision that I was not going to birth at a hospital. Even with my history. I didn’t share this information with people because it was something my husband and I felt was right. I was worried that I may get negative questioning about it and I didn’t think I could really take any of that in. Anyway, I started seeing a midwife who I absolutely adore at 24 weeks. After meeting with Danielle Demeter I knew that she was going to do everything in her power to help me achieve this goal. I hired a team of doulas (yes multiple doulas) who I knew would be exactly what we needed in this birth. My husband, Ric, was so supportive; he thought I was crazy but he supported me all along.

Fast forward to 40 weeks and 4/7 days. He was four days overdue, but I was very content being pregnant; I was in no hurry to get him out. The pregnancy was already different in a positive way. No kidney stones, very little heartburn, chiro visits, special herbs were taken, I was able to stay active, etc. I began getting anxious for the day to come.

June 28th I had this HUGE burst of energy and I couldn’t understand where it came from; it was a great day playing with the kids, hanging out with friends, and just enjoying being pregnant. June 29th I woke up at 3:00 am miserably tired but wide awake for some reason. I took a bath, played on my phone, did all these things to make me tired and nothing worked.When I was in the bath I had all the lights off except for my phone flash light. I looked down into the tub and noticed little pieces of my mucous plug. I finished the bath and got out. I finally fell asleep at 7:00 am and woke up an hour later ready to be a mom for the day.

All day I felt nauseous and sluggish. I didn’t know what my deal was. I continued to see mucus throughout the day. Some of it was pink tinged. I was excited since this was the first sign that something was happening inside. I knew it could be days still so I didn’t get my hopes up. We went to bed around 11:30 pm and I woke up to a powerful Braxton hicks contraction at about 1:00 am. I was able to go right back to sleep but kept being woken up by these “powerful” contractions every 10-12 minutes.Finally at 2:30 am I realized these were not Braxton Hicks contractions, they were real contractions. I was in awe. I kept falling asleep but an hour later something changed. Suddenly the pressure of the contraction was making it way too hard to lay, let alone sleep. I got up and started walking around, pacing. I decided that I wanted to maybe get an idea of how long they were lasting and how far apart they were. They were 45-60 seconds long and 4-5 minutes apart. I was so excited. This had never happened to me before. I couldn’t believe I was feeling contractions.

I kept it to myself and just labored on alone in baby boy’s room and the bathroom, really anywhere I could get comfortable. I was feeling them up front but also had a strong pressure very low in the rectum area. Around 6:00 am things had picked up a little and I felt a small leak. I believed my water had broken. This was a fear of labor I had all along, because it’s what happened with the girls. I kept going but things started to slow way down. I was bummed. I showered and got ready and only had a few contractions. After Ric went to work and things started picking back up. I had this unreal pressure in my bottom that never went away and intensified when I had a contraction. Ric came home later that morning and drove me up to Park City to meet with my chiro and my midwife as I already had my normal weekly visit scheduled.

I was checked and was told I was 1 cm dilate and 90% effaced. I was excited but also a little sad because I felt like I worked so hard all morning and to only be 1cm. But we went home and I kept on going. One of my beautiful doulas, Robynne Larsen Carter, and cousin/sis/doula Hillary came over and did some Rebozo stuff and essential oils on me. We had realized that baby boy was posterior which made sense with how things were going. That evening things had started picking back up a little and Ric and I met my midwife and chiro at the birth center to get checked. I was told I was 2 cm dilated at that time. We decided that a foley bulb would be something to try and help me get to 4 or 5cm. It gave me some real motivation. We got home and not even 10 minutes later the foley popped and came out. I knew that it happened for a reason. I was meant to do this on my own, I was meant to figure out what my body and baby needed to get him out.

Ric went to sleep around 3:00 am after my adorable doula Hillary came back to take over. She held me, tickled my back and helped me cope through all of the contractions. At daybreak, we took a walk. I suddenly had this energy again and I didn’t know where it came from. I was so exhausted. On the walk the contractions pretty much stopped again. Then finally something changed. I started really feeling the contractions; they were way more painful and consistent. I wrote my team and we decided to meet at the birth center at 9:00 am to assess things and come up with a game plan.

My mom took the girls and we drove over to see what the plan would be. I was checked and I was 4 cm dilated, 100% effaced and baby was +2/3 station! Meaning LOW!!! But he was still posterior. Which explained my rectal pressure I was still having. She said, “well I think we are good to go upstairs, labor and have a baby.” I couldn’t believe my ears!!!!! I kept laboring on and on, changing positions, eating, drinking, doing everything I could do to get comfortable.

Hours later I was checked again and I was 6 cm dilated. I was starting to doubt myself a little even though I’d never been past 6 cm before; I was feeling like I couldn’t cope much longer. Ric, Danielle, and all my doulas kept reminding me that I was doing it and it would be okay. As the day went on I got more and more tired. I just wanted a break but there was not going to be a break until he was here and I knew that. We needed this baby to flip anterior.

Around 5:00pm or so we did an NST on him and I got all worried. Everyone seemed to be doing things around me, but not really telling me what was happening. I looked at Ric, started to cry and told him I was scared. He looked me right in the eye and said, “I’M NOT SCARED! It’s going to be OKAY!” Right then I gathered this new confidence, remembered his words and sat there straddling the toilet waiting to see what was going to happen. Baby looked great on the monitor and then I suddenly had an urge to push. I didn’t know if I should be pushing so Danielle checked me. She didn’t really say much and just walked away. I was so confused. She knew that she couldn’t tell me where I was at. I was obsessed and getting way into my head the entire day. Not even five minutes later, she walked in and started putting chux pads all over the floor. I looked at one of my doulas and said, “What is she doing? I’m confused.” Then she brought in a squatting stool.

My eyes apparently opened wide; I knew what that meant but I didn’t think I could be ready. I turned to my doula again and said, “what is she doing?” And she said, “getting ready, I think it’s time to have a baby.” Danielle invited me over to the stool and set Ric up behind me. She checked me again and thought I was about 9 cm dilated, then said I was more like 7 cm dilated, but could stretch me to 9 cm. She told me to hold on through the next contraction and then I was COMPLETE!!!! Words I always wanted to hear but never did.

She looked at me and said, “your baby is coming, it’s time to push!” I was so ready! Contractions felt good now and almost hard to recognize. The next contraction I pushed three times. I don’t feel like I ever held my breath, I just ROARED like a lion. She said, “Meagan feel your baby, he is right there!” I reached down and could feel his head!!!!!! This was happening! I looked all around me and saw the excitement on all my doulas’ faces and I got a rush of adrenaline. She said, “okay, next contraction, push again.” I took a deep breath and told myself you CAN do this! You’re strong! I pushed and felt an incredible amount of pressure. I was told not to push, hold right there. So I took a deep breath and just held still as best I could. She told me to give her some grunts. I did two and I then one more small push and she said, “Meagan, GRAB YOUR BABY!!!” I reached down, felt his head and made my way down to his shoulders where I could grab him. I pulled him out and lifted him up on my chest! I couldn’t believe it!!!

Ric held me and we looked down at our baby boy. I looked all around the room and everyone was crying, I couldn’t believe what just happened. I did it, I actually did it! I pushed him out in 7 minutes. I kept saying, “YOU GUYS!!!! I DID IT!!!! YOU GUYS!!!! I DID IT!!!!” I held him and held him and he just chilled. He didn’t cry, he just had his hands open wide and looked around. I rubbed him and he started crying, the emotions were overbearing. After 38 1/2 hours of hard labor, our sweet 6 lb 15 oz baby was here safe in our arms. Ric told me he was so proud of me and held me tight as we cried.

Later on I was told I had no lacerations and was ready to head into the bedroom whenever I wanted. We walked in 25-30 minutes later and he started nursing right away. It was amazing! I am so grateful for the constant reassurance. Although I questioned myself many times, I had Ric and my team there to remind me I was strong and I could do it!!!!

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I don’t know if the shock and excitement will ever wear off, but as of right now I just want to share my story with everyone and talk about that moment over and over again. It was the most incredible experience. I want to tell the mommas who may be preparing for any VBAC to please believe in yourself. Study, do your research, talk with multiple doctors and go with your gut. Good luck to any VBAC mommas out there!

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for. 

Do you love birth? Heck yeah you do!

Don’t miss our weekly story. Subscribe below to get new stories & advice delivered directly to your inbox.

Catie

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Registered Nurse, Labor & Delivery

Gilbert, Arizona

Birth is such an incredible and unpredictable process. As a labor and delivery nurse, I really went into labor with Windsley expecting everything and nothing all at the same time! One thing I was absolutely sure of was that I would go after my due date. At the time, I was working in an OB office and worked a 10 hour day Tuesday, May 23rd. I wasn’t feeling well that day – I was very flushed, swollen and emotional! I had an appointment the day before and she said I was dilated 1-2cm and 80% effaced. I started thinking maybe I would have the baby sooner than later but also was prepared to walk around like that for another couple weeks. I was only 37 weeks 2 days so my expectations were low.

That night I went on a nesting rampage. I took Unisom and went to bed around 10:00 pm. Around 11 o’clock I got up to pee and got back into bed. I felt 3 little gushes of fluid. I wasn’t sure if my water had broken or if I peed myself. I decided to put a pad in my underwear and try to go back to sleep while monitoring her movement. I knew if my water had truly broken and I went to the hospital they would keep me there and I did not want to go into labor without a good night’s sleep. I dozed lightly until I had to get back up to pee at 12:30 am. The pad was soaked and so were my underwear. I was convinced that my water was indeed broken so I woke my partner up and he suggested we should go to the hospital. I had hoped to labor at home for a while, so I really didn’t want to go yet. We got up, finished packing our hospital bag and I took a shower. I still wasn’t feeling her move as normal (probably the loss of fluid and the unisom) so around 2:00 am I decided I wanted to go in to check on her. I was contracting a little bit, but only every 5-20 minutes or so. 

We walked into triage and saw a midwife and nurse I knew. I felt relieved to see a familiar face. When I took my pants off and walked to the gurney I left a trail of fluid on the floor and the nurse, Maggie said –“ um yeah you are definitely ruptured, you’re going to L&D”. My mom was planning to come for the birth so we called her. She said she would get on the next plane out from Virginia to Denver. By the time I was admitted and received my IV, it was 4 o’clock in the morning and I was contracting every 10 minutes.

My eyes were burning, I was so tired. I tried to sleep between contractions but the contractions were already feeling so intense without my bag of water. I felt the need to move through the contractions and quickly felt irritated with hoisting my full term body in and out of bed with each contraction. I gave up on the idea of sleeping and sat on the birthing ball for a while. Around 6:00 am I got into the bath. I loved the tub; it was so relaxing. I wanted my cervix to be checked about four hours later by my Midwife, Eliza so I could know if I had made any change from my last check-up. I was 4 cm dilated – which was encouraging to me. I got back into the tub after and my contractions were still very irregular coming every 2-3 minutes, then spacing out to 6-9 minutes. I was so thankful my birth team was expectantly managing me and letting my body have time to kick into labor by itself. I was also not hooked up to the fetal heart rate monitor constantly. They were listening to her heart rate with a doppler every hour while I was in latent labor to make sure she was doing well.

At this point my mom arrived. I got out of the tub and started moving to see if I could get the contractions to come more regularly. Walking definitely kicked the intensity up and around 2:00 pm I told David that if this was not transition, I was considering getting an epidural. I started to feel out of control with the contractions and I noticed a difference in the sounds I was making – they were more desperate. I was grabbing onto David wishing somehow he could get me out of “this”. I asked to be checked again and I was still only dilated to 4cm. I hadn’t made ANY cervical change. It was then that I lost all coping ability. I needed to do something different, but I wasn’t quite ready to get an epidural. My birth team suggested IV pain medication so that I could rest. The medication took the edge off and I was able to sleep for about 45 minutes in between contractions. 

As 5:00 pm came around, I decided that if I wasn’t progressing, I did not want to continue without an epidural. I had seen so many first time moms make better labor progress after they got the epidural and I hoped I would be the same. I wasn’t able to relax into the contractions and allow my body to take control. I felt like I could potentially keep going, but I just didn’t want to. The epidural placement went so smoothly and didn’t hurt compared to the contractions I was experiencing. After the epidural set up Eliza checked my cervix. I was 6 cm and confirmed what we had suspected – that Windsley was positioned sunny side up (occiput posterior). That position had been contributing to my lack of progress, irregular contraction pattern and intense discomfort. I asked if we could start pitocin because my contractions were 5-10 minutes apart and I knew that wouldn’t get me my baby anytime soon. My body was feeling hot and wanted to avoid developing an infection. 

The nurse put a peanut ball between my legs to facilitate Windsley getting into a better position for turning and descending. My midwife told me she would come back and check me at the end of her shift, even stay to deliver the baby if I was close. I thought there was NO WAY. My progress had been slow all day and first time moms usually push for hours. Eliza came back to check and sure enough, my cervix was completely dilated and her head was right there! I pushed for 10 minutes and she came out. Windsley was born on May 24 at 7:37 pm (a shift change baby). David was able to have his hands next to the midwifes, helped catch her and bring her right up to my belly for skin to skin. 

As a labor and delivery nurse I was so, so thankful for how smoothly things had gone. There were no emergencies, she never dropped her heart rate and was such a perfect little newborn.

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for. 

Do you love birth? Heck yeah you do!

Don’t miss our weekly story. Subscribe below to get new stories & advice delivered directly to your inbox.

Stef

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Registered Nurse, Labor & Delivery

Miami, Florida

I am proud to say that I have found my passion in life. I have been a labor and delivery nurse for six years. If it wasn’t for obstetrical nursing I couldn’t be a nurse.  The path the labor room has taken me over years has been wild.

I can remember my first day as a nurse. My nerves got the best of me and I became unsure of myself. That was all put aside the first time I heard the cry of a newborn that I helped deliver. To see the look of the mother and father holding their newborn child made me realize that I was exactly where I needed to be. 

While labor and delivery brings mostly joy and happiness, I cannot say that every one of my shifts have looked the same. Sadly in this type of nursing, there is also tragedy. Losing a pre term or a full term newborn is a sad part of life and the worst part of my job. Helping mothers push their way to a lifeless child are the days that never escape my memory. I can still hear the cries of  families that have lost a baby. It is something no one should ever have to go through. The sudden loss of a child that was loved deeply and never had an opportunity to grow. It’s difficult not to feel everything the family does.

The nurses I work with have become more than coworkers. They are family. Family has its good times and its struggles. We’ve stood by each other’s sides through thick and thin, and at the end of the day we have each other. I had the opportunity to see my coworkers from a different angle when I delivered my youngest child in my unit. It has made me grow to love them even more. I knew they were wonderful as I worked aside them, but being a patient with them by my side during the entire birthing process was different. They cheered me on, crying tears of joy as my youngest son came into the world. I have been lucky enough to deliver family, friends and numerous other laboring patients who I was able to become close with. One thing I can say is I give one hundred percent of myself every shift. Even if I leave late (which my co-workers always make fun of me for), each shift is a reminder of how important you are as a nurse. Especially now, in times of COVID-19.

The fear of the unknown in the beginning made it terrifying to go into work. A mother laboring alone is the heart breaking truth we are seeing right now. A father who flew across the country to see the birth of his child only to be denied entry into the unit. The potential of the newborn testing positive for COVID-19. Wearing full PPE just to take vitals. Our nurses have stuck together through this trying time and we have grown. Healthcare is changing rapidly every day. Our lives are changing every day. Sometimes what we think will be a text book delivery changes abruptly & other times a horrific event turns out okay. No matter the story, we as healthcare workers can give compassionate care. That is my mission.

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for. 

Emily

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Registered Nurse, Labor & Delivery

Denver, Colorado

I have loved birth, and known I wanted to help women deliver their babies, for as long as I can remember. As a child, I watched ‘A Baby Story’ instead of cartoons, played OB-GYN and patient with my little sister and assisted with a thousand “births” as my baby dolls were pulled out from under shirts. I always thought of pregnancy and birth as healthy and happy experiences. It wasn’t until I experienced my trauma that I realized the sad, painful part of making new life – but also just how important empathy and support are during those times.

Almost exactly 10 years ago, the October of my sophomore year of college, I had a miscarriage. I didn’t know I was pregnant. I was on the pill and had been very consistent about taking it. No missed period, no morning sickness – no signs of pregnancy. What I thought was just an especially painful period and menstrual cramps turned into the worst pain of my life in a few short hours. I called my closest friend who had a car, sobbing, asking her to drive me to the emergency room. I told her I was bleeding a lot and didn’t know why. She showed up 5 minutes later with a huge stack of towels, a hot water bottle and sped me to the ER.

I don’t remember much before the doctor came in to talk to me. The pain was so intense I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. I peed in a cup and dozed (thanks to the strong pain medication they gave me) while the nurse drew my blood. Someone put clean pads underneath me and cleared away the bloody ones. I still did not know what was happening. My friend held my hand in silence the entire time.

A young doctor came in and stood just inside the curtain. He didn’t sit down, he didn’t come close to me or show any emotion. He gave me his scripted speech he had obviously rehearsed & said many times before to other women. He told me I was having a miscarriage and that we needed to be sure “all of the products of conception” came out or I could develop a life-threatening infection. He breezed over the miscarriage part, even though for me it was the most important part. He dove straight into treatment and the risks of not doing anything. I was stunned, foggy from the pain medication and intense discomfort I was still feeling. I left the ER with a little bottle with a few pills in it – something to make me “fully miscarry.” My friend drove me back to her house in silence as I stared at the bottle. She made up her couch and tucked me into bed while I cried, from pain, from shock, from loss of the baby I didn’t even know I had growing inside me. I cried because of how insensitive the doctor had been. I cried because I had not even known I was pregnant. It was double the shock of growing and then immediately losing a little person. I cried because of what might have been (a baby), as scary as an unplanned pregnancy at twenty years old is.

I survived the next few days after taking the pills thanks to this friend, and my mama, who dropped everything to drive the 3 hours to stay with me that weekend. It wasn’t until my own miscarriage that my mom told me about hers. It was like I became a member of a club no one wants to join – but one that has deep connection and understanding. My mom told me about the babies she had lost, all the pregnancies ended exactly like mine. It wasn’t until these conversations that I truly processed what had happened, what I had endured and lost. She validated my experience by truly understanding it.

It was the support of these two women, my dear friend and my mama, that got me through my miscarriage a decade ago. It was having someone hold my hand, or gently touch my ankle so I knew she was right there with me – all the while saying nothing. Just being there.

A lot has happened in my life over the last ten years. I fulfilled my life-long goal of “delivering babies” by becoming a labor and delivery nurse. I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life. It is truly my calling – not just because of my lifelong love of the happy and exciting parts of pregnancy and birth, but also thanks to my own painful experience with miscarriage. I learned a fundamental lesson that night in the ER: losing a baby, regardless of the situation, is always traumatic. And the most important thing is feeling supported on a personal level, and to have your feelings validated (even if you “think” they should be different”).

For a long time in modern medicine, a lot of stock has been put in stifling emotions – especially when giving patients bad news. Doctors are expected to tell a woman her baby has no heartbeat, but not cry with them. But we are learning (actually re-learning) that psychological health is inextricably linked with physical health. We have to support someone’s mental health just as much as their healing body and soul. That in fact we should cry with our patients, if that’s what feels right to do so. And I know this is a fact, thanks to both my personal and professional experience. I know that I was able to heal from my miscarriage experience mostly thanks to the nurturing, unconditional support and validation I received from my friend and mother. I know that my patients who are experiencing perinatal loss (miscarriage, stillbirth, etc) need these things just as much as I did.

It is my privilege and passion to help these women in all the ways I needed during my loss.

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for. 

Do you love birth? Heck yeah you do!

Don’t miss our weekly story. Subscribe below to get new stories & advice delivered directly to your inbox.

Katie

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Registered Nurse – Certified Childbirth Educator

Boise, Idaho

On November 8, 2018 I was working as the triage nurse. Triage was empty, so I was helping in a C-section. I stepped out to grab a warm blanket for the patient & a co-worker asked, “Hey, Katie, is your family okay?” 

There was a fire nearby. The town I lived in, where my husband and kids were, was in the path. I looked out the window and there was a huge mushroom cloud in the sky over Paradise.

I frantically called my husband. He had just gotten our boys and dogs loaded up and was about to evacuate. They were safe.

The day quickly turned into chaos. My job was to try to help manage this chaos. Most of the patients from the hospital in Paradise were being evacuated to ours. I didn’t know if this was a precaution. Maybe it was a small fire that they would get under control quickly? As the day went on, I heard more horror stories coming out of Paradise. I knew my family was safe but I needed them. I lasted until about 5pm before I just couldn’t cope any longer. 

Ninety percent of the town burned down. Waiting anxiously, we learned our home had not burned, but most of our street had. For the next six weeks, we lived with family. We had no access to our home or anything in it.

We were fortunate in that were able to move into a small rental in Chico. While processing what had happened over a few months, we came to the decision to move to a new state and start over. We did not want to live through the rebuilding of the town. I knew that seeing the burned homes, trees and businesses day in and day out would be like reliving the fire every day; a constant reminder. I was worried about all the chemicals, paints, fuels and other toxic materials that had burned. I didn’t want to have continuous anxiety wondering if my family or I would end up with cancer or other side effects as a result of exposure. The housing prices in the areas nearby sky rocketed. I told myself, “at least babies were delivered everywhere.” I could keep doing what I loved, and we could handpick where we wanted to raise our family. 

After exploring several new places, we fell in love with one. I was offered a position at the largest hospital in the state quickly. I needed to start my job soon, but our home was not due to be finished for at least six weeks. My husband and I made the decision that I would move out before the rest of the family & rent a room from an acquaintance. I had only lived alone once ten years prior in college and even that was short lived. I had never been away from my husband or my kids for more than five days. People were questioning me constantly about why I was leaving ahead of them. I was defending myself to others and to myself. No father would have been questioned so much about this decision. It would have been a practical decision to help his family. I was made to feel like a mother abandoning her children. The deep emotional toll of being away from them was just evidence to support those feelings. Still I pressed on. 

My new hospital delivered 400-450 babies per month. I was used to 120-175 births per month. I fell in love with the idea of all that I was going to learn and see, but I was also scared. Would I know enough? Would I be able to keep up?

After just five weeks, I knew it was not the right fit. I came to realize it was high intervention with very few protocols. I was uncomfortable. I was not used to the pace and the physicians extreme variation of practice. There were hardly any order sets or protocols from which nurses could work. This took away the autonomy I had gotten used to at my previous hospital.

I decided to accept a new job at a smaller hospital. The staffing was difficult for me to adjust to as it had significantly less coverage. One night there were multiple urgent matters, but not all of them could be tended to because of staffing. I felt intensely uncomfortable in that situation. We were doing the best we could with what we had, but I knew I couldn’t do it. After that night, I began to look for another new job. I could be giving up my career in birth. 

I decided to change focus. I began working in a busy OB/GYN office. I felt so defeated and out of place.  How could I work anywhere but in L&D? I felt incredibly anxious & unhappy. I felt like I had made a huge mistake. I leaned heavily on my friends and family. I started therapy. I started an anti-depressant.

After six months, I had bonded with some patients. I roomed them for their OB appointments and would chat about work, their kids and pregnancy discomforts.  I spoke to them on the phone frequently. I listened to them every time they had a question or something that concerned them. I taught them what was normal and what was not. I followed them through their whole pregnancy. With some I felt that I was making a huge difference by the time they got to full term. When they came in for their six-week postpartum appointment gushing over their babies, hugging me and thanking me, my heart felt full again.

I was given the opportunity to start teaching the birthing class through the office. I had no idea what I was doing. I had never taught besides at the bedside, but I was figuring it out. I loved seeing their curiosity. I loved teaching them their options. I decided to start the process of becoming certified and took a training course. I have expanded the educational program within the office and am exploring new ideas in childbirth education.

I miss birth immensely. I miss the looks on mothers’ faces when newborns are laid on them skin to skin for the first time. The looks shared between parents. Being part of an emergency and feeling like you just did something incredible.

I felt helpless as one nurse in a new hospital(s). But teaching women that they deserve excellent care may be what sparks the change. I hope I can teach, support and empower them. Maybe I will circle back in the delivery room one day. Right now, this is my contribution to birth.

Hi, my name is Kim & I love birth.
I have been a Registered Nurse for ten years, with the last five specializing in Labor & Delivery.
I love human connection & the art of story telling. I believe it can be a major catalyst for change.
I would love to help you share your story or advice so that we may better support each other and the people we care for.