(TW: This post contains lots of in-depth descriptive experiences surrounding bodily fluids and birth. If either of those are not your thing, I'd skip this post. Reader discretion is advised.)
My pregnancy was rough. Maybe I'll go more into depth about the ins-and-outs of what pregnancy was truly like for me in another blog post, (especially since difficulty in pregnancy is rarely discussed & I'd love to sit down and talk about my experience with it to help break that stigma), but today, I'd rather talk about the end of my pregnancy: the birth of baby Sunni.
sept. 3, 2020. (27w & 5d gest.)
"unforgettable bonding time & experience with sunni and @joeyryan96...
joey painted baby's temporary home. she kicked the whole time..."
// THE WEEK BEFORE
THAT GLORIOUS MORNING
I had spent the entire week leading up to that glorious & long-awaited Monday night doing every possible hip-opening exercise, any & every labor-inducing tactic there was in the "book" & on Youtube. I had been walking my ass off going up & down the road in our neighborhood every morning and evening that I could muster up the energy for.
When I tell you I didn't stop doing anything and everything to get this child out of me, I mean it. Even when I was "resting", I was not resting. I was sitting on my giant yoga ball either doing hip rotations, hip forward-and-back extensions or just bouncing up and down-- (sometimes, I'd even find two or three songs I liked & bounce/dance on the ball to the music). If I was sitting on our couch, I'd be sitting in the butterfly stretch position just to keep my hips open. When I was sleeping, I kept my legs propped open with a pillow while laying on my side. I literally did not stop trying to do anything & everything to get. this. child. out. of. me.
A raw look into the less-than-flattering life of me deep in my pregnancy with
Popeye helping me do some hip rolls on the yoga ball
three weeks before we ended up having Sunni.
// THAT GLORIOUS NIGHT
I had been "done" with pregnancy when I hit thirty-three weeks gestation. Yep. At thirty-three weeks I was ready to throw in the towel. I am fully aware that I was much too early to have my baby, yet, but that doesn't mean I wasn't absolutely miserable. I remember those last few weeks ticking by slower than anything I'd ever experienced. "When will she just come out?", I kept thinking every minute of every day. So, needless to say, once I finally got the green light from my OBGYN to start naturally bringing on labor at home, I didn't hesitate.
During the last two days of the week, before I went into labor, I cried myself to sleep. I cried myself to sleep on many nights during my pregnancy, but those last two nights of pregnancy, I remember notably feeling so utterly helpless. I have never felt so physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained in my entire life. Then, it happened.
It was around 10:30 at night on Monday, November 16th, 2020. I had just finished another miserable day of hip exercises, walking, pelvic floor exercises, and praying to the good Lord above that I'd just go. into. labor. I remember crying an hour prior before it had happened. I had just sent my best friend a Snapchat of me telling her how miserable I was, (a common conversation I'd have with her in those last dreadful weeks that I know she secretly had to be tired of hearing about, but she still listened to me and talked me through with such love & patience, nonetheless).
Joey had just turned in for the night since he had work the next day. I decided I'd sit on the sofa watching Youtube videos about True Crime to distract myself from anything having to do with inducing labor naturally. I had practically given up. I was, however, making sure that I was sitting in the butterfly stretch position just to ensure that my hips stayed open regardless of how hopeless I really felt about bringing on labor anytime soon. That's when the trickle started.
I stared at the wall and wondered what I was feeling? "No, probably just peeing myself again." Being that far into pregnancy, peeing yourself is a fairly common occurrence. Then, the trickle turned into a small gush.. then another gush.. then another one..
I absolutely B O L T E D my 38 weeks & 2 days pregnant self to our bedroom where I proceeded to nearly bust down the door and flip on the light, all while loudly exclaiming to my bewildered-eyed husband, who I'd rudely awoken out of a deep sleep, "GET UP! JOEY! GET UP! WAKE UP! WE DON'T HAVE TO BE PREGNANT ANYMORE! MY WATER IS BROKEN! JOEY!".
Before I could even finish that sentence, in the same manner that I had booked-it to the bedroom to alert Joey of this seemingly unbelievable news, I made it to the bathroom just to have another massive G U S H of amniotic fluid. I was so shocked. I legitimately couldn't believe it.
I still couldn't believe it even when Joey and I were sitting in the Labor & Delivery triage unit for what felt like the umpteenth time this pregnancy. (We'd visited our delivery hospital quite a few times due to us thinking we were in early labor at various points in the pregnancy).
I still couldn't believe it when my nurse told me that I was, in fact, leaking amniotic fluid. "Yep, your water is definitely broken!"
Everything felt like a fever dream from that point forward. Nothing felt real. I'm so glad I have Joey. He really helped me through all of it.
// MY BABY & I WERE ON STEROIDS
Before I continue with what happened next, I think it's crucial for me to tell you about something that occurred during my pregnancy: when I was four months pregnant, I had a flare-up in my colon. I have a chronic disease called Ulcerative Colitis. It's a disease I've had since I was thirteen-years-old that causes me to have hundreds-to-sometimes-thousands of sores, (ulcers), in my colon. It can cause internal bleeding, and occasionally, the bleeding can be so intense that if these flare-ups are not treated immediately, some cases end in sufferers having their colon partially or even entirely removed, being left with a colostomy bag in its place.
The flare-up that I had with my Ulcerative Colitis at four months pregnant was probably one of the worst I'd ever had. I remember being super dehydrated from all of the throwing-up I'd done up to that point in my pregnancy and I was extremely stressed, (both of which can bring-on flare-ups).
I'd been in contact with my Gastrointestinal doctor and the only treatment we could (safely) do was to get me on a prescription for Prednisone. A pill that I was unfortunately very familiar with, due to past flare-ups.
For those of you who aren't aware of what Prednisone is: it's an Anti-inflammatory steroid that particularly helps those with flare-ups in their colon, (like me), or other physical illnesses centering around internal bleeding, swelling, inflammation, etc. It is a horrible pill. I hate Prednisone.
My GI doctor decided it was best that I stay on Prednisone for the remainder of my pregnancy since it was unsafe to use any other Ulcerative Colitis flare-up medicines while pregnant.
Prednisone, in its worst cases of use, is typically only used, at a maximum, of about 6-8 weeks starting at a higher dosage, and slowly decreasing the milligrams after every two weeks of not showing worsening symptoms. I was on this stupid pill for five months.
Aside from saving me from worsening symptoms and potentially losing my colon to flare-ups, Prednisone is a nasty beast, in my opinion. It can cause hot flashes, overeating, water retention, horrible mood swings, and insomnia, among other things. All of this, of course, I had to put up with while already experiencing those side effects due to just simply being pregnant. Lovely.
Prednisone not only would affect my water retention, but Sunni's as well. We both started to gain weight quite significantly, quite fast.
But, I had to do it. If I didn't, I was putting my own health and my baby at risk. So, I did what had to be done.
// I FELT ASHAMED TO HAVE A
CESAREAN BIRTH.
*(but not anymore)
Let me stop and tell you something for a minute: for those of you that are parents, you know a thing or two about "mom guilt" or "parent shaming". It's a real thing that affects parents of kids of all ages. People love to shame parents for decisions that they make-- whether it's what school they decide to send their kids to, what foods they give their kids to eat, what kind of foods they don't give their children enough of, whether they watch TV, whether or not what they watch on TV is "good enough" or "educational enough", where they sleep, and yes.. how they're literally born.
Yep, that's right. There are people in the world who call Cesarean deliveries "an easy way out" of having a baby.
Do I think that? I ignorantly agreed for the longest time with that crowd. That was.. until I had a C-Section. Then, I went through the healing process, and then that's when I really learned that I didn't agree with the people who call Cesareans "an easy way out".
I cried for about a week after I delivered Sunni through Cesarean. I cried because of all of the guilt I felt for not "trying" to give birth to her the natural way.
I cried to my husband. I cried to my best friend. I cried to my mom.
I cried until my doctors finally drilled into my head that my baby, due to our special circumstances, was a high candidate for having life-threatening complications through vaginal delivery; including possibly breaking her shoulders, her neck, the possibility of causing irreversible skull & brain damage-- all of which would have lead to them needing to do a C-Section after all, because they would have had to have rushed me into an Emergency surgery after I had just gone through potential hours of inadvertently "pointless" labor.
Shortly after we arrived at triage and were told that we were, in-fact, leaking amniotic fluid, we were given a decision from the delivery doctor.
"Well, these are the reasons why we strongly advise a Cesarean delivery, but you are able to call the shots on whether or not you'd like to try for a vaginal delivery. Due to your circumstances, however, these are the possibly life-threatening complications that could come along with that choice. Again, though, this is your choice to make. We will leave you two alone to discuss your decision."
Joey & I briefly weighed the pros and cons of either side. The safest route, it seemed, was to go with Cesarean. I'll admit, though, I don't think I realized how glad I was that we had made that decision until I had the delivery doctor come around the C-Section sheet, directly after delivery only to tell me, "I am so glad that you went with Cesarean delivery. Seeing your baby and her size, now, and where she was located, it's highly likely that she would have had horrible complications in a vaginal delivery." I will never forget the weight of those words and how grateful I was to myself and my husband for making that call.
Joey and I made the right decision that night in choosing to go the delivery route that we did.
F**k anyone who could ever look at a mom who has had a Cesarean delivery and tell her that "she took the easy way out". Delivery is delivery. My baby is healthy & well because of the decision that my husband and I decided to make after being heavily advised by well-seasoned delivery doctors to do so. Delivery is different for every mommy. They are all important. They are all valid. And that's where I stand on that subject.
Moving on...
// THAT GLORIOUS MORNING
From the moment my water broke at home on our couch to the moment we had Sunni in our arms laying on the operating table, it was the fastest whirlwind span just shy of four hours.
What I remember, I remember in small bits & pieces. I'll post pictures & document times from here on out with brief explanations to give you a general timeline:
// PRE-DELIVERY
These are the last two photos I have of Sunni & me while I was still had her in my tummy. I remember asking Joey to snap these photos of me because I didn't want to forget these last moments I'd ever have with her in her temporary home.
I didn't care how unbrushed my hair looked or how un-made that my face was. All I felt in these photos was sheer gratefulness for the time that I got to spend bonding with her and growing with her as she solely relied on me for her nourishment, growth, & development from the time she was the size of a poppy seed, up until I gave birth minutes after these photos were taken.
I'm crying as I type all of this remembering how bittersweet it was to live in this moment that Joey captured for me. I guess I didn't realize how much these photos would mean to me; especially after truly understanding, now, that it's a guaranteed safety & security for my child that I'll never get back. I feel jealous of the woman in these photos because she could selfishly keep her child safely tucked away from the world for just a little while longer. At the same time.. life can't be lived in fear. Nonetheless, I envy how lucky that mother is.
As rough as the pregnancy was, there are two things I was always grateful for, despite the pain I had experienced in carrying her for those nine months: she was always safe within my womb, and that I was the only one who could bond with her in the incredible capacity that I was able to. No one else got to experience those precious first kicks from the inside of my tummy, the hiccups, the opportunity to carry another beating heart below my own. I will always be grateful. So, so grateful.
It was moments after these photos that I was given a COVID-19 test, and shortly after receiving my negative results, I was whisked away down the hall and into the operating room.
// DELIVERY
The delivery team that I had was incredible. Most notably, a nurse named Kim, who gifted the most maternal & kind-hearted care I've ever received during a hospital stay. I'll never forget how incredible she was in guiding me through every single part of my delivery process.
I remember walking into a room full of hospital staff. They all greeted me with kind eyes and cheery words. I can remember hardly knowing what was happening during the majority of my time in the delivery room because of how fast everything and everyone was moving. The room was buzzing with energy-- things being prepped left & right. I felt bewildered at times, but Kim kept me grounded.
They sat me on the operating table. Kim grabbed my shoulders and positioned her face close to mine and said, "Dr. I-can't-remember is going to give you your localized anesthesia, now. It's going to feel like a bad bee sting and then you'll feel some uncomfortable movement in your spinal cord."
I think most people would find it uncomfortable how close this nurse was to their face, but she truly comforted me in a way that I can only describe as maternal. It was exactly the kind of comfort and support I needed in the process of entering motherhood and welcoming my baby.
Kim held my head and hugged my shoulders as the doctor proceeded with my subarachnoid block, (local anesthesia). She gave me words of encouragement and after a few minutes, I was laid down and my husband was brought into the room to come sit by my bedside. And man, was I feeling goooooood. Ha!
I thought I was fully aware of what was happening. I didn't think I felt high. My husband says otherwise. Apparently, I mentioned a few comments that clearly alluded that I was, in fact, feeling quite good, if you know what I mean. I didn't realize I had been high until probably a week after the fact when Joey started recounting some of those full-on happy-go-lucky conversations that I had with a few of the nurses and doctors that I have absolutely no recollection of during my delivery.
Even though I don't remember the things I said, I certainly remember the delivery process and how strangely violent the tugging felt. I remember being tugged and pulled in a few different ways. I remember feeling so incredibly nauseated. I'd had horrible heartburn throughout my entire pregnancy-- that didn't stop during delivery, either.
Did I feel anything pain wise? No. Just a lot of tugging, like everyone says. I remember feeling like a ten-pound weighted blanket was just lying across my chest, though, for some reason, which was a little scary to me, but I remembered that Nurse Kim had told me I'd likely feel that way.
Then, I heard it. Sunni's crying. All of the nurses and doctors started sweetly calling & cooing over the c-section sheet that she was here. She had arrived. Everything was okay.
Her cry was the most incredible sound I'd ever heard. It was amazing how foreign, yet so familiar this little person sounded and looked to me. I had never felt so scared & so in-love at the same time as I had with her. After months of feeling so terrified, staring at Ultrasound screens, preparing for her arrival, and praying every day & worrying myself sick that somehow everything would hopefully turn-out okay: she was here. God, it was so good to put a little face to those sweet kicks and hiccups.
They cleaned her up after showing her to me and laid her on my chest. I was so scared. I felt like I was going to hurt her even if I barely touched her. I stared down at her as my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest in pure awe. Then, I threw up.
"I'm going to throw up. Can I have a bucket?" I said quickly as I tried my best to lean over into the bucket that my nurse swiftly supplied. I threw up all over my mask in the process. Yep. Gnarly, I know. Once I threw up, though, I felt a hell of a lot better.
Shortly thereafter, I was lifted onto another bed with Sunni in my arms. We were then wheeled down the hallway into the Mother & Baby wing of the hospital where we would spend the remainder of the week.
// THE (BEGINNING OF) RECOVERY
The rest of the week ended up being what I've since named: "hell week". It was absolutely brutal. I had no idea that recovering from a Cesarean would or could be that painful. I don't think you realize just how much you use your core to do (pretty much) everything in-terms of movement-- including shifting in bed, getting out of bed, showering, walking, peeing... the whole nine yards, and then some.
What a lot of people forget about when it comes to C-Sections is that these deliveries are a lot more than just a simple incision. Oftentimes, they have to move around your bladder, colon, and any other organs in that region in order to be able to access the baby in the uterus. There have actually been some cases where the whole bladder needs to temporarily come out of the mother in order to gain access to the baby.
So, when you're healing from a Cesarean delivery, you're not just healing from a little incision. Your lower organs were literally rearranged to get this baby out. Your skin was pried open, your tummy was cut, your uterus was cut, your placenta came out leaving a wound the size of a dinner plate on the inner lining of your uterus, and they yanked a small human out of you. Surely, your body is going to be readjusting after something that physically traumatic.
Joey had to ask the nurses at a few points during my hospital stay to have Sunni go to the nursery for a couple of hours at a time simply because I just wouldn't rest when Sunni was there in the room with us. I was constantly worried about her. Despite his reassurances, I always felt like I should be awake just watching her and ensuring her safety, even though we were in the safest place possible with plenty of trained eyes to watch over her and me, both.
Believe me, I tried sleeping, but it was like something in me was forcing me awake so that I could be constantly aware of our surroundings when she was in the room with us. Thank God for my wonderful husband. He knew I was losing my mind and hadn't slept in over 30+ hours at one point. He knew how to help me. He knew to step-up and make some executive decisions for me so that I could finally get some rest & begin to heal.
Through the pain, though, there was bliss. So much bliss. I couldn't believe what I'd just been through to create & deliver this beautiful human being. I have never felt more love & gratefulness swell-up in my heart so quickly. As challenging as this pregnancy was, I'd do it all over again for my Sunni.
baby sunni jo ☀︎
nov 17, 2020, 1:57am
8lbs 13.4oz, 20in
kati
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