Judah’s Birth Story
I wrote this about three weeks after Judah was born, and I’m so glad that I did. It helped me to process everything that happened. Now at almost 11 months postpartum, it all feels like a blur.
This is the story of my son’s birth…
Written on March 31, 2022
To give context to what happened prior to labor: On Monday, March 7th, I went in for a prenatal appointment. At this point, I was a few days past my due date. When giving birth at a hospital, they generally don’t allow you to go past 42 weeks, so I had to decide if I wanted to schedule an induction or wait it out. I didn’t want an induction unless it was medically necessary, but I was so done being pregnant, and getting induced was starting to look pretty good to me.
Anyways, at the appointment, the midwife suggested a gentle induction which involves taking a pill to encourage the cervix to soften and dilate. Sometimes that’s all it takes to get labor started, but most of the time it takes a few days and then they eventually give Pitocin. I chose to take the pill rather than schedule a full-on induction or wait another ten days.
The next day (March 8th) I went to the hospital where they gave me a dose of the medication and sent me home. Fast forward to 2 a.m. (March 9th) contractions woke me up (the medication worked!). They were about five minutes apart, and I hadn’t felt the baby move since the night before, so after about an hour I called the midwife who advised me to come to the hospital if I didn’t feel fetal movement over the next hour. Around 4 a.m. I still wasn’t feeling the baby kick, so we decided to head to the hospital.
When we got to the hospital, I was two centimeters dilated (the baby was fine). It was still a little early to be admitted so we ended up leaving for a few hours. We went for a drive, got breakfast, and then wandered around Target. During that time my contractions started to get closer together. Around 10 a.m. we went back to the hospital. They checked me again and I was four centimeters dilated, which was far enough along to be admitted.
After that, I spent many hours walking the halls, using the birth ball, and trying to move around as much as possible to keep labor going. I made slow (but steady) progress throughout the day. The midwives came in every few hours to check on me, and each time I had dilated another centimeter.
I think it was around late afternoon when the nurse and midwife came in dressed in surgical gowns and face shields to inform me that I had tested positive for Covid (which was one of my fears with giving birth at the hospital because I had read the horror stories of babies being separated from their moms at birth because of Covid. Thankfully that wasn’t an issue at all). I had no Covid symptoms and it really wasn’t a big deal except that they wouldn’t allow Jared to leave our room (not even to get our car seat and diaper bag so I had nothing for baby to wear after he was born).
In the evening, my contractions got more painful and I felt like I needed medication or something to help because I was getting so tired. I ended up using the whirlpool bath which helped so much. But, after a while the nurse made me get out because the baby’s heartbeat was high and it was difficult to monitor in the tub.
By that time it was around 10 p.m. and I was eight centimeters dilated. The pain was so intense and I felt like I couldn’t keep going so I ended up taking pain medication. The only thing the hospital offered aside from an epidural was fentanyl, so I took that and I was able to rest for an hour.
As soon as the fentanyl wore off I began to feel intense pressure so the midwife came in, checked me again, and told me I could start pushing. My water didn’t break until the very end. I pushed for about thirty minutes and at 11:31 p.m. on March 9th he was finally here! It was the most painful thing I had ever experienced and I can remember telling Jared “I can’t do this.” But I did.
When they handed me my baby, he felt so small in my arms and I was so relieved that after 21 hours it was over.
After birth was so overwhelming. My golden hour wasn’t very golden. There were at least six people in the room rushing around, the midwife was stitching me up, and the nurse was pushing on my uterus, (which was the actual worst and I hated every second of it). It was complete chaos and I just wanted everyone to leave us alone, (but we really didn’t get “left alone” until we left the hospital two days later). The real “golden hour” is when you get to go home.
Our baby weighed 8lbs 5oz, had a head full of beautiful dark hair, and was absolutely perfect in every way. We named him Judah Alan. Judah means “praise” and Alan is Jared’s middle name so they have the same initials (and the same face! Judah looks so much like his dad and I’m not mad about it).
It’s been three weeks, and it’s still hard for me to talk about. The last few hours of labor were kind of traumatic and I felt so ashamed that I couldn’t make it through without medication. I didn’t want to share my story because I was afraid of being judged, but you know what? It doesn’t matter.
I spent so many months educating myself and preparing my body for labor and I felt so defeated when those things didn’t seem to work for me the way they had for others. I listened to tons of positive birth stories but I feel like some of them just gave me unrealistic expectations. I don’t feel like my childbirth was a magical experience like how I’ve heard so many mothers describe theirs. It was extremely difficult and painful. But every second of it was worth it because now I have the most amazing gift. I feel extremely blessed to call myself a mom and that I get to spend the rest of my life pouring into my child. At the end of the day, that’s all that matters.
We can (and should) do everything we can to educate ourselves and prepare our minds and bodies for childbirth, but even then, it probably won’t be an ideal experience, but it’s worth it, I promise.
There are definitely some things I want to do differently next time, but I’m grateful for everyone who supported me. I don’t have a single negative thing to say about that. The midwives respected my birth plan and supported my decisions. The nurses were so patient and helpful, and my husband was my biggest supporter. He prayed for me, encouraged me, and helped me get through each hour of labor. I could not have done it without him.
