Pregnancy and Labour
“As parents we dissect everything - something profoundly enhanced ten-fold when our children inherit genetic conditions from us. ”
Image Credit: Omurden Cengiz
Shame and guilt are pillars of parenthood that often consume us. As parents we dissect everything - something profoundly enhanced ten-fold when our children inherit genetic conditions from us. The simple mechanics of reproductive biology, family history, environmental exposures, and stability of health and resources, ensure a Russian-roulette of outcomes for every pregnancy. And still, relinquishing those feelings of doubt are all but impossible, if (in the remote recesses of our mind), there exists a belief that our child’s life could have been different. Sometimes, reconciling these thoughts and feelings can happen in the most simplest of ways – in the retelling of another person’s story. It’s not always about living the same story that releases us, but hearing what did, or rather, what didn’t occur, can help stop the frantic metronome of blame that paces our thoughts. Every pregnancy and labour experience is different. This was ours.
Image Credit: Insung Yoon
We were having a baby, and with it came all the feelings - an emotional torrent of joy, fear, excitement, and comedic thoughts of, “How do we undo this situation?” when panic won over. My pregnancy was...unremarkable. And in typical first child fashion, my son was late. Nine days late.
The first trimester with Pierce meant my morning sickness came more from the horse-size pre-natal supplements and iron pills that were the prerequisite and scorn of every soon-to-be mother. Otherwise, compared to his little sister (where I suffered for the first trimester, had 2 months of reprieve, and nausea for the rest of it), he was the exemplary first child – setting the “first-born- birth-order” personality and expectations bar high.
Pregnancy labs, blood pressure, glucose levels, mom and baby heart rates and all his scans at 12 and 20 weeks came back perfect. Every milestone was reached, reassured by the weekly notifications from my many pregnancy apps, and confirmed by our doctor visits. We were on track, and our little poppy seed grew into a giant water melon. Being on the short side, Pierce quickly took up precious real estate as he grew, and around 8 months, it was difficult for me to eat, and heart burn was my new reality. By 40 weeks, I had put on approximately 25 lbs – all to say, it was appropriate for my starting weight and height.
Unlike my daughter (who made her arrival mere hours after I put away my mop and had finally completed my nesting), my due date came and went with Pierce. Two centimeters dilated for a week, one membrane sweep, and NOTHING. The following week at our appointment, an ultrasound showed that the baby’s placenta was starting to show minor signs of aging and his amniotic fluid a little low. The wait was over. We were scheduled to be induced, and there would be no more extended stay for my little baby.
A shower and some light make-up set the tone for the morning as we waited for the call to come in. The hospital finally arranged for us to arrive around noon, after two postponements. We checked-in, I changed into a gown, and we settled in our room - calm, but excited and scared for labour and parenthood. When they broke my water 45 minutes later, the contractions came fast and furious and all births plans went out the window. Any earlier discussions and expectations of the baby arriving in the wee hours of the morning, or sometime during the next day were quickly erased. No induction medication was needed, but thankfully one miracle epidural was squeezed in - and barely. Three and a half hours after walking through those hospital doors, I was cradling the sweetest little boy, with the purest, and softest little cry.
Image Credit: Luma Pimentel
The NICU was on hand for Pierce’s birth because merconium (the baby’s stool) was detected when my amniotic sac was ruptured (broken). Aside from one minor dip in his heart rate during the final few pushes, there were no complications with Pierce. Only the surprise of a “true knot” in his umbilical chord (something his neurotypical sister also had at birth). With no problems in sight, the NICU team quickly dispersed, and finally, when all the doctors and nurses finished, my husband and I were left to relish our first moments as a new family in the stillness afterwards.