Ariadne’s Birth Story

Long before I became pregnant, I had a lot of thoughts about giving birth. My mother, a true warrior, had three children in vaginal, unmedicated births (my sister was 10lbs 4oz, so this is truly amazing). Though I wanted to be like her, I did think that my pain tolerance was probably not as high and I would likely want an epidural if I ever did choose to have a child.

Throughout my pregnancy, I kept my birth plan pretty open. My main goal was to get our baby here safely and to keep myself safe as well. I would try to go unmedicated, but get an epidural if the pain became too much. I hired a doula because Covid restrictions meant my mom couldn’t be there and I felt like I needed some additional support since Dane and I were first time parents. I also felt that as Black, Hispanic woman, I wanted another person there to advocate for me if things got bad. We took Lamaze classes to help us prepare for labor as well.

In all of that prep though, there was one thing that hadn’t really occurred to me in a real way: I might end up needing a c-section.

Sure, I realized that fact, but when I say that it didn’t occur to me in a real way, I mean that I did not prepare for it. I didn’t do any research. I didn’t ask any questions. I didn’t join any FB groups. It was like this far off thing that wasn’t real.

So of course that would be exactly where we ended up.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.

At my 35 week appointments with my midwife and perinatologist, they both told me it was likely that I would not be pregnant much longer. I had polyhydramnios, a condition where there is excessive accumulation of amniotic fluid in the uterus. What that meant was that my uterus was the size of someone 41 weeks pregnant instead of someone who was 35. The condition often leads to pre-term labor. I was a bit in denial at this news. Again, it just didn’t seem real. I was giving birth in July, not June. It would all be fine.

On Monday, June 21st, I woke up early as it was the last day for teachers. I had final teacher checkout to do as well as a few hours of yearbook distribution. Much to my surprise, I kept peeing my pants as I got ready that morning, a new pregnancy symptom, or so I thought. After it happened several times in the span of about an hour, I decided I would need to wear the Always Postpartum Underwear I had purchased for after birth and deal with it. I headed to work, but I also left a message for my doctor letting her know what happened.

I did yearbook distribution from 9-12, and then headed to my 36 week appointment with my perinatologist. She told me the baby looked great, but when I told her about the “peeing,” she told me I needed to have my midwife check me out to make sure it wasn’t amniotic fluid, a thought that had occurred to me, but I honestly couldn’t tell.

So I went home, did an hour of virtual tutoring, and then my midwife called me around 5pm. She said I needed to come and meet her at the hospital so she could check me. I asked her if I needed to bring everything like I might stay there and she said “yes,” which blew my mind. Luckily, we were already pretty much packed, so we headed over to meet her.

Once in the hospital, I fully expected to be sent home, but it became clear quickly that I had not been peeing my pants all day; the liquid was amniotic fluid and I had a slow leak!! They would be inducing my labor that night. To say I was shocked is a severe understatement. It was not time and I was not ready!!

The kindest of nurses told me to call Dane (he had to wait in the car until I got admitted due to Covid restrictions) and have him get me something to eat because once they induced my labor with Pitocin, I wouldn’t be allowed to eat until after the baby was born.

Around 10pm they began the Pitocin. I am not sure what I expected contractions to feel like exactly. Maybe like really, really bad period cramps times ten, but my contractions did not feel like that. I had what some people call “back labor” and felt every one as severe pain in my lower and mid back. This went on for hours. I thank God for my doula, Paulina, who helped me regulate my breathing and work through them. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

Sometime close to 4am they checked me to see how far I was progressing and I was only at 1cm dilated. You have to be at 10 for the baby to come out, so I was feeling pretty terrified. I didn’t know how I would continue with that level of pain for as long as it would take me to get there, so I asked for an epidural.

I had a love/ hate relationship with that epidural. One the one hand, it was AMAZING. The pain melted away and Dane and I were able to sleep for several hours. I had a cervical check around 9am and I was dilated to 5cm, so I was feeling really good about everything.

On the other, the epidural stopped working around 1pm and that was pretty terrible. I was only numb on one side, having bad back labor, and couldn’t get out of bed. Contractions lying down are ten times worse than ones when you can move around. And those are already near unbearable. The anesthesiologist was helping another mom, so I was waiting a long time in a lot of pain.

Around the same time we started having an issue where every time they would start the Pitocin, the baby would go into distress. Her heart rate was erratic and they kept having to give me oxygen. It seemed that the umbilical cord was getting compressed. Whenever I have a medical issue, I always gauge my response based on how medical professionals seem. If they aren’t worried, I tend to not worry. So when my midwife and two labor and delivery nurses all wouldn’t leave my side and were staring at my monitors, I knew something was wrong.

My midwife came to me and said, “Camile, I will allow you to continue to try to labor if that is what you want to do, but in my experience, these things can go bad very quickly. I think we need to do a c-section and get her out before this becomes a dire emergency. You could labor to 10cm and we could still end up in a c-section. My experience just tells me this is where it’s going.”

I should mention here that part of the reason I love my practice is that they have a VERY low c-section rate. Like 8% on average (the national is around 30%). So when they told me I kind of needed a c-section, I knew that it was true. I also knew that I wasn’t going to make it much longer in pain and dealing with the baby in distress. I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept in like 30 hours and my body was at it’s limit. I asked if everyone could leave the room so Dane and I could talk, and in that quiet moment we decided we felt it was best for our baby to go ahead with the c-section.

This is where my anxiety kicked into high gear. I have long been afraid that I would die in childbirth, but going into surgery just made that even more scary. Paulina wouldn’t be allowed into the OR with Dane and I, but right before they wheeled me out of the room, she came close to my face and said, “Camile, repeat this back to me ‘I am safe.'” Through tears I repeated back to her “I am safe” several times as she comforted me.

I will forever be grateful to her for this moment. As I went into the OR and they got me ready, I repeated “I am safe” over and over. I prayed as well. It was the only thing that got me through that time when they were prepping me and getting me numb before they let Dane in to be with me.

Having a c-section is definitely one of the scariest things that I have ever experienced. My birth team did everything they could to comfort me. The resident anesthesiologist was at the right side of my head, Dane was on the left, and she was SO incredible about telling me everything that was going on. That really helped my anxiety because I couldn’t see anything. When they lifted Ari over the curtain, I barely registered the glimpse I got of her because I was so anxious. I remember crying because I wanted to hold her, but they had to check her out first.

Eventually, they handed her to Dane and he brought her close to my face so I could see her better while they closed me up. I know you’re supposed to be numb from the chest down, but I could feel a burning sensation on the left side of my abdomen. Even now at 7 weeks postpartum, it is the side that hurts sometimes.

For two hours we were in the OR recovery area and I got to have skin to skin with Ariadne. I was in a lot of pain, but I am still so grateful that I got to hold her in this way. After they wheeled us into our recovery room, Ari began throwing up and had to be rushed to the NICU for an issue with her bowel (this is something we knew was probably going to happen- I talked about it here). It would be 10 days before we would be allowed to hold her again.

My birth story was SO different than I expected it to be, but I also know that it is what needed to happen to bring my daughter safely into this world. My birth team, every single one of them, did an incredible job to keep me and Ariadne safe, and to help me with my pain and anxiety as needed. If I could change one thing, it would be to do more research ahead of time on c-sections and what they’re like and what the recovery entails. Because I didn’t know much of anything, it made the whole experience much more traumatic that it needed to be.

In the end, what matters is that both Ariadne and I made it through the birth experience safely. I am very grateful for that.

Photos by Paulina Splechta.