Bentley’s Birthday
“How does Friday, sound?” Said my OBGYN sweeping into the room and sitting down across from me at my 37-week appointment. “Uhhh, how does Friday sound for what?” “It’s time to get this baby out! I would like to schedule your induction.” HECK YES, I wanted that baby out! I was getting up every single hour, on the hour to pee all night long. I felt like I couldn’t get any bigger (hahaha young one, wait for baby #4). I was struggling so much keeping my blood sugars in range and having tripled my basal settings and gone down to a 1:2 insulin-carb ratio, it was clearly evident that I had hit such insulin resistance, that it was more dangerous to try and keep baby in than go ahead and serve the eviction notice.
On Friday, I called the hospital, as instructed, to make sure my induction was still on schedule but unfortunately, they had to bump me down a few times until 10PM. The drive was an hour long and I remember being so excited to know that I would be coming back with my new baby in my arms! The fear and anxiety of the unknown did not set in until I was wheeled though those giant double doors labeled, “Labor and Delivery.” I’m not gunna lie, I started to panic a bit. I was 18 years old; I had no clue what was about to happen and the only support I had was my baby’s father, who was also 18 and had no clue what we were in for.
After settling into the birthing room and being strapped to all of the monitors and IV’s (they told me that they would be taking over my diabetes management during labor and delivery and instructed me to remove my insulin pump), they began to explain the process of induction to me and ask if I had any birthing preferences. “I want an epidural and only female providers.” I said white faced and with absolute certainty. Again, 18, not in clue in the world. I wish I had a doula; I didn’t even have my Mama! Shortly thereafter, the doctor came in and place Cervidil. Low and behold, that did it the job and my labor started. I remember feeling very crampy and uncomfortable. I stayed in the bed mostly besides potty breaks. After a few hours, the decided to start pitocin. Labor continued on slowly. The contractions becoming more consistent and more uncomfortable. They gave me some medicine through my IV to take the edge off. Then, when they checked me and I was around a 6, I started to get worried that I wouldn’t be able to get an epidural in time. They had the Anesthesiologist come quickly and get it placed. That was the oddest sensation I had ever felt. First, I puked. Then, my lower half went completely numb. I could not move a single muscle which kind of got me panicky again until my nurse reassured me that that is exactly what it is supposed to do. The catheter was placed, they broke my water, and baby and I were closely monitored. About half an hour later, the nurses were frantic that they couldn’t pick up the baby’s heartrate on the fetal monitors and insisted that he needed an internal monitor placed. I was hesitant but was scared into agreeing. As the nurse is getting me into position to place the internal monitor, she yells out, “Get the team, I have the baby’s head in my hands!” Then, looking at me instructs, “Don’t push.” All I can recall is a massive rush and scrabling as nurses filed in and crowded around the bed. Two of them had to hoist up my legs and help get me into position because I still could not feel or move a thing in my lower extremities.
“Bear down into your bottom and push like you’re pooping!” After one 10 count, I was told to stop pushing again. But something primal had taken over in me and I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to at this point. That is what we call the fetal ejection reflex. Thankfully, the umbilical cord was only wrapped around his neck very loosly and the doctor was able to untangle him quickly and easily. I pushed a total of six times and Bentley shot his way into the world on 11/16, 18 hours after initiating induction, weighing 8.06lbs, 21 inches long. I lay there shaking uncontrollably and crying, craning my head to try and see my baby whom they had whisked off to clean and run APGAR. They began to sew me back up as I had gotten two third degree tears from his birth. I held him for a few short minutes before he was taken off to NICU due to hypoglycemia. He also had a battle with jaundice and learning how to latch. They pushed me to bottle feed him and I lost any support or encouragement of learning how to breastfeed. He only spent about a week in the NICU and were finally able to bring him home. HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BENTLEY! The one who made me a Mama first.