Every Birth is a Different Story

I’m one of those people that tends to be a bit cynical and believes that once you experience something three times, there isn’t much to tell when it happens the fourth time. I’ve written a birth story or two before. It was good to get it out of my system, but I didn’t think that there was really much take away despite the nuances. I thought that my fourth time around, I would have it down pat. I’d go in, get prepped for the birth, take a few days to recover, then go home with a giant baby to snuggle while I mourned the loss of sleep. The more time I have had to reflect a bit on the day our youngest child was born, the more I realize that things were different this time around.
This was the third state, third hospital, and third pro-life physician I have experienced for the birth process. Despite all the big picture differences, I experienced a normal amount of anxiety before surgery. There was the surge of joy as I heard my baby use his lungs for the first time, and then the tears as they brought him to me and he became quiet as he heard my voice. Then he was whisked away and things seemed a bit off.
Arthur was bigger than we had anticipated, and was having some difficulty breathing due to some fluid in his lungs. My husband left to follow the baby as I was taken to recovery. I was assured by my doctor and nurse that Matt was with the baby and it would be a matter of time before dad and baby would make it to my room. I soon discovered that the hospital staff on my husband’s end were not doing a great job of keeping him informed on what was happening with the baby. After I knew that he was also in the dark, I spoke to every nurse and physician that came into my room about nothing but the status of the baby until I knew he had a parent by his side.
Several hours passed and I was growing impatient. They had put our son in NICU to monitor his breathing issues overnight. Matt and I were both consistent in our decision that he would only be breastfed, and that seemed to cause a bit of a stir.  Six hours after Arthur was born, I was still not with my child, so I spoke up again. I was willing to do anything they asked of me to make it down to the floor that the NICU was on, but communication seemed to be a huge stalling point. They all wanted us to give them the baby’s name, but no one could figure out how a mother in recovery could see her otherwise healthy child to begin breastfeeding. Once our determination was finally clear, eight hours after his birth, a nurse found a wheel chair and I was allowed to go to him in the NICU.
The next few days followed a similar pattern: communication was lacking, and we had to be incredibly vocal in order to have our family’s reasonable needs met. Fortunately, we spent only two nights in the hospital and then we both were released.
To be clear, I understand the procedures that the hospital has in place. It was incredibly difficult to see my nine pound, 13 ounce and 22.25 inch long baby hooked up to machines. It was even more difficult to understand why they later could observe his fluid issues in the maternity wing just fine, but he had to be in NICU overnight when they had the same equipment in both places. It was terrifying to go the first eight hours of my child’s life without seeing him. However, it could have been longer.
There is no doubt in my mind that had this been my first rodeo, I would not have had access to my child until the next morning. This might have frustrated our breastfeeding relationship, and it could have complicated our bonding time. We were fortunate to be confident in our parenting and our rights as parents. We were fortunate to have the ability to express what we needed and our prior experiences to help guide us.
My take away from this birth experience, was to speak up and ask questions. I wish I had said more before hour six, but I know that I would not have said much had it been my first time giving birth. I also am incredibly grateful that my husband has the routine down as well. He is always the number one advocate for his wife and child in the hospital and that is a really fantastic resource.
Moral of the story: If I can learn something from the birth of my fourth child, perhaps there might be something in there that might help someone else!

Reunited and it feels so good!