The Story of Jude: Part I

I profusely apologize that it has taken me almost a month to blog about Jude's birth. I seriously don't know where the time has gone. Between breast milk, poop, and trying to shower, my days fly by. Plus my birthing went a LITTLE bit different than planned, so it has taken me some time to recover from that. Here is how it all began...

On Friday, June 22nd, I headed to my weekly appointment as usual. This was my 38 week appointment. Technically, I was 38 weeks on Tuesday, and my appointment was that Friday. I was just walking in, talking to Riley on the phone, eating candy, thinking Matt and I were going to dinner and a movie that night. Plus I wasn't dilated the week before, so I figured I wasn't dilated that week. I was planning on working one more week, thinking for sure this baby was going to be overdue. During my exam, my midwife was doing her thing, and looked up and said, " Is this baby head up or down?" I responded, that this baby has been head down the entire pregnancy, she thought the same thing too, but went to grab a small sonogram machine to check. I still was fine at this point, thinking she was paranoid. She starts to do the sonogram, and then there it is, a glaring head at the top of my tummy, NOT toward my pelvis. My heart immediately sank. How can this baby be head down the whole time and then flip?!??! How could I not have known it flipped?!?! She sent me down the hall to the ultra sound technician to get a better ultrasound, so they could get good measurements and the exact position, so they could send me across the street to one of the M.D.'s to try version to flip the baby. I called Matt to come to the office, and it was about this time I started to cry a little. I knew the chances of this baby flipping this late was rare, and I knew it was even rarer for this baby to flip back this late in my pregnancy.

After the ultrasound, Matt and I sat in the exam room and waited for our midwife. I was nervous, but I was just trying to stay positive, thinking we would head to the hospital, they would flip the baby, and then we would be back on track. Our midwife came into the exam room and had a not so good look on her face. She told us that I needed to head straight across the street to the hospital, the baby was breech, and that my amniotic fluid was dangerously low, and I was most likely going to have a C-section in the next few hours. This is the point WHERE I FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT. I immediately started bawling, snot flowing, couldn't catch my breath freaking out. Matt just stared at me. How do I feel fine, but find out that my baby is breech, and possibly in danger. It was not good.

We headed to the hospital and Matt keep trying to calm me down. He basically had to stop and grab me in the parking ramp and told me to pull my shit together. He probably should have slapped me across the face to snap me out of it because that is how nuts I was. We went in, and met our nurse and I immediately put on the hospital gown and got hooked up to all these machines to be monitored. One of the M.D's associated with my Midwife practice came to meet with me. He went over everything and told me that he had a C section to do, but based on my monitoring, that would decide if my baby had to come out in a few hours or not. Matt and I basically sat there in silence. Neither of us was ready for a baby quite then, and not under those circumstances. 

Dr. Hogue (the M.D. blessed to deal with me) came back and we went over results with our midwife and nurses. My fluid was on the top end of dangerously low (it was a 5), but the baby was reacting fine, good heart beat, good size, no sign of distress. I pretty much told Dr. Hogue in so many words, that I did not want a C-section, that I wanted nothing to do with him, and I was NOT mentally prepared for this. Being the fabulous guy he was, he told me he didn't want anything to do with me either, and because the baby was healthy and reacting well he would give me overnight to see if I could get my fluid up. He told me that if I could drink a bunch of water and rest, and come back Saturday morning, he would see if I could get my fluid up so he could try to flip the baby. If I came back and it was still a 5, the baby had to come out. I took that bet with him and Matt and I went home. 

After all of that, Matt and I drove in silence and headed to Target. I broke down in the Target parking lot. I don't even remember now why we had to go there. People had to think that Matt was an asshole, because here is this guy with this 9 month pregnant wife bawling in the Target parking lot. I was able to compose myself a bit, and we went and ate Mexican. I also had until midnight to drink as much water as I could to help get my fluid up. I drank more water from 6-midnight then I thought was humanly possible. But as god is my witness, I was going to get my fluid up, and get that baby to flip. Matt told me that we needed to relax, and if this baby was coming tomorrow, it needed a good send off, and come into happiness not stress. He was exactly right, but I was terrified.

 From the moment I found I was pregnant, I was terrified, anxious, and a little excited to go through the birthing process. I went with a midwife associated with an OB practice because I liked their ideas on labor and delivery. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't going to be all granola and do a water birth. I still wanted to be in a hospital, with drugs, and with an OB on hand if need be. I did NOT want a C-section, that was my biggest fear throughout my entire pregnancy.  So Friday night, I ate Mexican, re-organized my hospital bag, said a Hail Mary, and hoped everything would go good on Saturday.

Saturday morning we woke up, showered, and got ready to head to the hospital. Before we went, Matt took my picture in the front yard, just in case it was our last moment without a baby. 

Here is me at 9:00 am Saturday morning, trying to look enthused. I was terrified beyond belief, but hanging in there.