Brynn is 5 months old and until now I had previously not attempted to write out her birth story. There’s a number of reasons why. One being that there are some parts of it that I am struggling with. Another is that I blocked aspects of it out of my memory. Either way, with recollections from my mother and from Michael, I am going to fill in the blanks I have and write this story out.
At around 35 weeks I visited my midwives and got some unfortunate news. I had high blood pressure. Up until that moment, well from the second I got pregnant, actually.. I had a goal of a home water birth. That’s what I wanted and high blood pressure threatened to take that from me. High blood pressure could take my midwives from me. I was devastated. My midwife told me she would keep an eye on it, but if it didn’t go down by my next appointment I’d have to go see an OB and get my liver checked and possibly start blood pressure medication. She promised that my team of midwives would be at my birth, but they could no longer see me weekly.
I had an appointment for my blood pressure with an OB. I also had to meet an anesthesiologist “just in case”. The experience I had with the OB I met with, Dr. Ben, was awful. His nurse, who seemed like a student or intern, came in to take my blood pressure. She couldn’t find it. She called Dr. Ben and instead of checking for it himself he said “I’m going to put you on blood pressure medication”. I said NO WAY. I knew that he hadn’t checked my blood to check on my liver and I knew that he had NO idea what my blood pressure even was. I insisted on the blood test and he sent me. Guess who was fine? SO. Back to my midwives I went. Up my blood pressure stayed. They sent me to the hospital this time to have my blood pressure looked after, as I requested a different OB.
Getting my blood pressure checked also involved being hooked up for stress tests. I was told everything was okay and that I could stay under my midwives care. Met with them again, and up my blood pressure went. AGAIN. My midwife team unfortunately had to refer me back to the hospital. This time I was told there was “a bit” of protein in my urine but nothing to worry about. That was Dr. Perron. He was civil enough but made me feel like my plan for an all-natural birth was insane and came across as if he had a God complex. As if everything he knew was right and I was a massive lunatic for wanting anything but to be doped up and cut open to deliver my child. He made me feel like I was risking her life. Actually, he straight up told me I was risking her life. Regardless, he let me go and asked me to return the next day to have my levels checked again.
I got my mom to take me. We were out and about, I’m not even sure what we were doing, but I said “I just have to run in and get my blood pressure taken”. This time was different. This time I was told there was undoubtedly protein in my urine. This time I was told I wasn’t going home. This time I was told I was going to be induced.
I. Was. Devastated.
NO NO NO, this was against everything I wanted. It was bad enough that I had to force my baby out before she was ready – I wanted to cook her longer. I wanted her to decide when it was time! But I also wanted to have her naturally. This was a complete nightmare. They told me that somewhere around 98% of women who get induced wind up having an epidural. The more questions I asked, the more they looked at me with sympathetic, knowing eyes. They knew that once I was induced there was a slim chance of avoiding that epidural. But I would try harder than anything I have EVER tried.
My mom was with me when this all happened. We called Michael and he came to the hospital. We did a lot of waiting around. They hooked me up to the stress test and I laid in bed for some time. My mom and Michael went home to get all of my things (which weren’t even ready since I hadn’t planned for her to come so early), and they even got pulled over on the way back to the hospital. Straight out of a movie, I swear.