Jude’s birth story
To mothers past, present, future and everything in between and beyond… welcome to my birth story. While I swear to be wholly honest and true, I think this one is going to put you at ease.
For this reason, I am especially glad you’re here if you’re pregnant with your first baby and you feel completely terrified. You are me, right before this story begins. Not only scared, but scouring birth stories online searching for voices to prepare me. I found all sorts of voices and stories, but mostly ones that just scared me further.
I waited a year to write it all down so it could sink in and I could remember it without the drama and haze.
This is my positive birth story. Not just because I don’t want to scare you, but because birth, for me, was completely positive and perfect although not free of pain, doubt, emergency decisions and changing the plan. It was all of those things, and still unwaveringly positive.
I know not all stories go this way. And if you’re here with one of those stories, I see you and you’re valid and I’m sorry for any of the parts you feel were unfair. But for my friends not yet at contractions, we have to manifest and pray for our own story to be positive.
That was the biggest problem in searching the threads and blogs of stories mostly fear mongered at the start… they were begging me to make their story my story. As I know you’ll find plenty of those… mine is here to help you take a deep breath.
Luke and I got pregnant with our first baby - Jude - in the first few days of 2024. I was due September 26, and was just absolutely certain I would “go early.” I had heard time and time again that the active and healthy moms “get to go early.” I heard this from everyone except reliable sources like my OB, and yet I bought in as truth. This was my Strike One. This was the first scenario of feeling like a failure. It was October 3rd and I was still pregnant. No contractions. No dilation. Nothing.
Towards the end of my pregnancy, I had scheduled an induction on October 3rd (when I would be 41 weeks). I never thought I would get that far. I could have waited a little longer, and most moms in my life would say they would have done just that. But I really felt like my body had no awareness to the process. There were absolutely no signs. And I knew the risks of a late delivery and an older placenta, so we were ready to submit to receiving a little help.
My OB is one of the ones who will induce you at 39 weeks. AKA one week before your due date. She often references the ARRIVE Trial and the benefits of 39 weeks for induction. I am personally glad we waited a little longer just to be sure labor wasn’t coming on it’s own - given I wasn’t too uncomfortable and healthy. But the late-ness had it’s complications too. Sometimes I wonder if induction would have gone better at 39 weeks, but this is all part of a gambling game you can’t always in. It’s not black and white. Pros and cons are both present with each decision, and you really just never know. You can only trust your gut and your doctors, who should be deferring back to your gut if they can.
We went in for our induction on October 3rd at 8pm. I spent the 3 days before crying. Not because the baby wasn’t coming, (I actually don’t think I really minded deep down.) Because the tears were tears of fear. This was something I feared for my whole life. Horror stories and dramatic movies but also just the needles and knives and the sterile environment. I wouldn’t even say it’s going to the doctor I hate. I love and honor my doctors. But when I need any sort of procedure, I feel faint. I have watched endless hours of Grey's Anatomy and somehow still turn away at the sight of blood. If I need a shot, I am weak in the knees. This was going to be my first time at a hospital. I had never had an IV. Never had surgery. So this was a long time coming for my built up fear.
However: at the end of your pregnancy, your mother super powers start to arrive. You just know that this is the way it needs to be, and you will do anything. That is a power that lasts.
My parents arrived in town around 7pm for a quick hug before Luke and I left for the hospital to get induced. At the time, we were mentally prepared for 36+ hours of labor and figured we would see my parents in several days. I forced myself to eat a good, well balanced meal knowing it would be my last for a while, but it was hard. I had no appetite. We drove the 20 minutes to the hospital holding hands and playing the most explicit pump up music you’ve ever heard. I had a playlist of dramatic soft music but in the end I needed Lil Jon to get out of my head.
Arriving for an induction is peaceful. You have time to review and sign paperwork, get settled, ect. We went to the first room of our journey - the induction room. It was so small! I was sad for Luke - no bed, just a small recliner, but we weren’t in here long. We watched some college football. He says we watched a few minutes of a movie but I have no memory of this. I was anxious and at peace all at once.
We had a lovely nurse in this room who started cervical ripening (gross, ik) with us. Not terrible. Whatever. Someone came to draw blood. Not my favorite - BUT - I FaceTimed my little sister Audrey while it was happening so we could laugh about it and she could tell me to quit being a baby. This is a pro tip. They were able to put the IV in my forearm which was amazing because I did not want it on my inside wrist or the top of my hand. The forearm seemed much more stable and I loved having it there. I didn’t like seeing the needle going in my skin so she wrapped it in a bit of gauze. I loved her for this and made sure she knew.
They put 2 monitors on your belly right away. One for you and one for Baby. It wasn’t long before my nurse kept coming back in our room to move the monitors or me to try to get a better read. This was the first sign of some concern about Jude’s heartbeat. But my water broke around 11pm and that changed the narrative. Meconium in the fluid. And a room transfer to L&D.
On that transfer from room to room is when I got the shakes. No one prepared me or Luke (who was most concerned by this) for the SHAKES. I was shivering like I was freezing, though I wasn’t cold. I was excited but really scared. All the while: I was being really well taken care of and I was thanking God for this.
We had about 30 minutes of laboring in this room. We didn’t know if we should sleep or stay awake. It was the middle of the night, we were so tired, but no one else was awake. I had a collection of handwritten prayers and notes from my baby shower. I read them during this time, and it brought me great comfort.
Our time in the L&D room was anything but quiet. Most people say they labored in quiet and wished they had someone checking in on them more, and therefore hired a doula next time. But because of baby Jude’s concerning heartbeat, we were never alone in that room. We saw several different on-call doctors, nurses, and residents. The story was pretty simple in my memory… Jude’s heart rate was falling with each contraction and they weren’t able to fix it quick enough given a list of other circumstances. My nurse communicated the entire team’s wish for me to now get the epidural I had stated I planned on receiving at some point upon arrival. The reason being: if you need a truly emergent C-Section and you do not have an epidural inserted, you will need general anesthesia and for that reason: you cannot bring your husband or anyone into the delivery room with you. And therefore neither parent will get to see Baby’s first breath. They all predicted that C-Section was where I was headed, and this set us up for peace in that moment, should it come. We were fine with that. Contractions were becoming intense from the initial induction medications anyways. But still… only dilated to a half an inch. It really felt like my body didn’t know HOW. Not that it wasn’t ready, just that it was unable. I’m sure all I needed was more time or help, and I had the peace and power to fight through that, but Jude did not.
Jude needed out now. It was 2:30am when my doctor drove in for me. I was so relieved to see her, because I knew she was a good surgeon. We talked about it at length. I cried. We didn’t have time to research it. No one was awake to call. We just had to trust them. And luckily, it was easy to.
A C-Section is the fastest most passive birth there is. You have faith, and they do the rest. What scared me the most was being awake, but I kept Luke right in front of my face the whole time. It is a mind game of holding peace while you give Baby truly everything you have.
Parts of it were so casual. It was a team of about 15 women in the operating room. They were an effortlessly synchronized team. The anesthesiologist connected my phone to the bluetooth speaker in the operating room. (I wonder if it’s still in my devices??) We played Hey Jude. They got started at 3:30 and we met Jude that same minute. I couldn’t really look; I was so scared to see something I wasn’t supposed to. But the anesthesiologist on my right side was so comical, she kept saying, “Oh shoot, he’s real cute, you’re going to want to see this Kate.”
I know a lot of horror stories talk about feeling a C-Section. I did not find this to be true whatsoever. I have to believe most of it is a mind game. You can either visualize the pain, or visualize trust and peace. Birth, no matter the version, is a test to relax and surrender.
The TLDR here is this:
if you have to have a C-Section, it will be ok. You will not feel it. You will be perfect. Baby will be perfect.
Some comical additives: Your baby will have the most perfectly shaped head. You will get to see your husband in scrubs, hello McDreamy. You will not break a sweat, it is absolutely freezing in there.
I don’t remember leaving the operating room. We moved to Post-Op but this is where things get really fuzzy. I kept going in and out. This was from the meds, I guess. And Luke, God love him, absolutely crashed. I had Jude with me breastfeeding for a moment, but I kept nodding off, and I asked my nurse if she would mind holding him for a moment for me to close my eyes. I was so worried I was going to drop him. She was so so so happy to hold him. I have a memory of opening my eyes and watching her just rock him and smile at him surrounded by so many other nurses. I was so proud. And so honored to see people who would never know, never need this human… love him so much.
I continued to be blown away by that personal level of care when we moved to the Postpartum wing. This was something I didn’t realize: you go from room to room as your needs change. This final room is: New Parent BOOT CAMP. Full stop. I was re-born in there. I didn’t leave once for 2 and a half days. Different nurses as their shifts came and went. But we were all on the same team.
As a first time parent, you can never be prepared for knowing what a newborn baby needs. Prepare as much as you can, but accept that the learning never stops. The benchmark is always being moved as they grow and you grow too. This was Luke and I’s ultimate surrender to accept that we did not know it all. We relied fully on our team to understand the crying through the night, the discomfort, all of it. Let yourself be helped. Let yourself be loved. Because you are about to pour out everything you have every moment of the day and night without a thought for the foreseeable future. I’m so obsessed with this!
I had heard the horrors of C-Section recovery. Every body and experience is unique, and perhaps I was just expecting the worst, but I found recovery at the hospital fairly manageable. There was only one moment I really felt terrible, and it was because I had forgotten to take the pain medication my nurse brought me. There they were sitting by my water. I was distracted. Luke started monitoring this for me. To my husbands, wives, companions of any nature in these rooms with these moms… watch out for this. Keeping the clock in the haze of recovery is impossible. I think this is what makes breastfeeding success so hard!
We welcomed my parents and my sister in the hospital that night. I loved having them there with us. I loved watching them hold and love our baby. It’s the ultimate gift to receive but you also know you have given them the ultimate gift too.
We could have stayed a third day, and probably should have to use the nursery one more time but I was just so ready to be home in my bed with my family. We got discharged on the 3rd morning and drove our baby home. My mom and sister stayed with us one more night. And then it was just us.
I was about to take 12 weeks of maternity leave at home. But Luke didn’t have any time. He took 4 days of vacation, and returned to work the following Monday. I was supported by lots of visiting grandparents and family. But I also did a lot of time on my own, and that was ok. Jude and I figured a lot of things out together, and I secretly loved being alone with him too.
As I re-entered the world and started to tell the top line of the story, I was confused by how many people responded to “unplanned C-Section” with a resounding “NOOOOOOO!!!!” I’m kind of confused by this because it went so well in my mind. But I guess it’s just against so many moms’ wishes. I can’t say that’s the way I honestly felt. I was there to bring a healthy baby into the world. I didn’t really care how it happened. So let’s all put our hands in on this for a moment: Any birth, is a good birth. And when mom tells you about the C-Section, some responses I’ve received that made me feel amazing: “I’m so proud of you, that couldn’t have been easy!” “You are so strong, recovery is going to be nothing for you,” and my favorite, “You’ve truly given everything for your sweet baby! You are SUPER WOMAN!! Praise God for healthy mama and healthy baby.”
Let me know if I can pray for you and your birth!