Welcome Judah Benjamin Boyer!
Here is the story of our fashionably late little guy ;)
With a due date of August 7, Judah was a little late joining the party. After his due date came and went, twice weekly testing became necessary to verify that he was still thriving and that the placenta was functioning well. The August 19 test went well and he was cleared to stay on the inside a little longer. Monday, August 23rd the testing wasn’t so reassuring. The amniotic fluid levels had dipped slightly, he wasn’t terribly active and the placenta was showing calcification that meant we didn’t have a whole lot of time left before an induction had to be seriously considered. They cleared me to go another 3 days and come back for repeat testing, but I wasn’t sure we were safe to go that long.
We actually suspected I was already IN early labor, as I had started having some light bloody show a couple of days prior, and had spent a night with quite a few painful contractions that disappeared in the morning. I allowed my cervix to be checked and it was determined I had gone from 2cm to 4cm over the weekend. The midwife in my OBs office wanted to send me over to the hospital to have my waters broken, sure that this would trigger labor and we’d have a baby quickly. I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t want to be on a timeline for delivery and broken waters guarantee that and increases the chances of other interventions being used/needed.
We decided to allow a membrane sweep in an effort to help move things along and decided that if it didn’t work, we would consent to an induction in the morning. We were told to show up at 5:30 and we would have my waters broken at 7am. Then, we went home and I cried. So many women beg for induction at 37-38weeks because they are uncomfortable and tired of being pregnant. It seemed so unfair to have planned a natural birth, gone past 42 weeks, endured SPD pain since April, all to end up with a medicalized birth in the end. There is something so wrong about that and I was devastated. But my baby’s health, not my ideals, were my primary concern.
We took a long walk up and down the hills in our neighborhood around 6pm. I had to stop a few times when I was contracting uncomfortably. I didn’t chalk it up to labor though, as I’d had many contractions before and while bringing on dilation, they didn’t stick around and produce a baby. So we came home and I fixed dinner. But dinner didn’t sound good to me. I had a few contractions while making the food and noticed I was contracting about every 4 minutes. Still unconvinced, I went to take a bath. While laying in the bath, the contractions eased up and spaced out a bit. See, I knew it this would happen, and was a bit annoyed. Then I got out and started drying off and the contractions went back to every 3-4 minutes. I got dressed quickly and told hubby to take me to the hospital.
At the hospital, they checked my cervix and I was at 6cm. Wow! I had gone from no contractions to full-on labor and nearing transition out of the blue. The doctor on call was kind of an ass. He came in and started insisting on things I wasn’t cool with and then tried to argue with me mid-contraction. I screamed at him. I told you I was nearing transition, so I think I was entitled. Then we tried to at least get a heparin lock so that in an emergency, they would have quick access to a vein. They tried twice, and both times the vein blew up. At this point, I decided there would be no IV. I was feeling panicky from being stuck and the nurse wasn’t being very nice about it. Gee, sorry honey, but your IV skills, or lack thereof, are not MY issue. Get over your damn self.
I continued to labor, with contractions stacking one on top of the next. Laboring on my feet brought them on faster, so I kept at it. But it was getting hard. I had to know that I was making progress. So I asked for a cervical check. I was at 8cm. I cried and told my hubby I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t WANT to do it anymore. I was done. He reminded me over and over how much I wanted this; how I fought against being induced because I wanted baby to come naturally. He helped me stay strong and resist the urge to take the easy route.
After what felt like forever, the contractions started making me feel like I had to push. The nurse checked me again. Still at 8cm. WHAT? She said that if I let the doctor break my water, she was pretty sure we’d be able to start pushing right away and have a baby soon. The idea of having baby in my arms soon was a promise of seduction. I wanted it, and SO badly. But no, I had promised myself and my baby to leave it to him and God. I refused and toughed through it some more. The urge to push got stronger and stronger so I pushed some with each contraction and then POP! Water gushed everywhere. But we were still far from done. There was lots of pushing still to be done at this point. I cried some more and wanted to give up. Then things got dramatic…
Baby’s heartrate started dropping during contractions. Not just slight decelerations either; literally from 140-150 down to the 70s, during contractions. Something was wrong. With each contraction, I pushed some more, becoming more scared with each push. I was worried that I wasn’t going to be able to get him out quickly, worried the doctor was going to demand an immediate c-section, worried he’d be angry I had no IV line to access, and worried that all this work was still going to land in the same place I fought so hard to avoid, with major surgery and a long recovery ahead.
Finally the point came that I couldn’t NOT push. I was pushing hard and trying to get him out quickly. I needed this to be over soon. I needed to hold my baby and see that he was okay. All of a sudden, I felt a ton of pressure and I knew he was coming NOW. I told the nurse and she helped through a few contractions, then she called for the doctor. The doctor didn’t come. Turns out there was no one at the nurses station because instead of the usual 2-3 babies they have in a night, there were NINE babies being born!
The nurse went to find the doctor herself and Judah started to crown. I started screaming at Jason that he was coming, that I couldn’t stop, and he needed to get ready to catch his son. It was the most terrifying moment of my life to realize I was having my baby and there was no one to catch him. The nurse returned, still with no doctor, and got there just in time to see his head emerge. There was thick meconium all over (it hadn’t been when my water broke), and she called for the NICU team while hollering something about “terminal meconium” which is just scary words for “baby pooped on the way out, not before.”
The cord was wrapped tightly around his neck THREE times. A nuchal cord is not uncommon, but three-times wrapped is quite unusual, from what I understand. It was also the reason that his heart rate had been decelerating with the contractions. The nurse quickly unwrapped the cord, vigorously wiped him off a bit and tossed him up onto my chest while she and a second nurse clamped/cut the cord. Then the doctor came in and baby was passed to the NICU team who had rushed in to check him out. He had to be suctioned a bit, but otherwise did really well with APGARs of 7 and 9. Doctor had arrived just in time to deliver the placenta and report that there was no tearing or other damage. I had a slight bit of excess bleeding, but nothing requiring special attention.
Judah was alert from birth and latched well immediately. He loves nursing and is generally a very content little baby. He weighed in at 8 pounds, 3.2 ounces and 22.5 inches long! He was born at 42 weeks + 3 days gestation at 1:20am August 24th. I am thrilled that he was born without drugs and without needing an induction. I am thankful to God for His protection and for the faith to fight for the birth my son deserved. I was blessed to have my wonderful husband by my side to help me find my strength when I had none of my own left to rely on. Judah’s brothers are crazy about him and all our friends and family are quite smitten.
and if you read all that, you deserve to see what the little monkey looks like, so here ya go:
With a due date of August 7, Judah was a little late joining the party. After his due date came and went, twice weekly testing became necessary to verify that he was still thriving and that the placenta was functioning well. The August 19 test went well and he was cleared to stay on the inside a little longer. Monday, August 23rd the testing wasn’t so reassuring. The amniotic fluid levels had dipped slightly, he wasn’t terribly active and the placenta was showing calcification that meant we didn’t have a whole lot of time left before an induction had to be seriously considered. They cleared me to go another 3 days and come back for repeat testing, but I wasn’t sure we were safe to go that long.
We actually suspected I was already IN early labor, as I had started having some light bloody show a couple of days prior, and had spent a night with quite a few painful contractions that disappeared in the morning. I allowed my cervix to be checked and it was determined I had gone from 2cm to 4cm over the weekend. The midwife in my OBs office wanted to send me over to the hospital to have my waters broken, sure that this would trigger labor and we’d have a baby quickly. I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t want to be on a timeline for delivery and broken waters guarantee that and increases the chances of other interventions being used/needed.
We decided to allow a membrane sweep in an effort to help move things along and decided that if it didn’t work, we would consent to an induction in the morning. We were told to show up at 5:30 and we would have my waters broken at 7am. Then, we went home and I cried. So many women beg for induction at 37-38weeks because they are uncomfortable and tired of being pregnant. It seemed so unfair to have planned a natural birth, gone past 42 weeks, endured SPD pain since April, all to end up with a medicalized birth in the end. There is something so wrong about that and I was devastated. But my baby’s health, not my ideals, were my primary concern.
We took a long walk up and down the hills in our neighborhood around 6pm. I had to stop a few times when I was contracting uncomfortably. I didn’t chalk it up to labor though, as I’d had many contractions before and while bringing on dilation, they didn’t stick around and produce a baby. So we came home and I fixed dinner. But dinner didn’t sound good to me. I had a few contractions while making the food and noticed I was contracting about every 4 minutes. Still unconvinced, I went to take a bath. While laying in the bath, the contractions eased up and spaced out a bit. See, I knew it this would happen, and was a bit annoyed. Then I got out and started drying off and the contractions went back to every 3-4 minutes. I got dressed quickly and told hubby to take me to the hospital.
At the hospital, they checked my cervix and I was at 6cm. Wow! I had gone from no contractions to full-on labor and nearing transition out of the blue. The doctor on call was kind of an ass. He came in and started insisting on things I wasn’t cool with and then tried to argue with me mid-contraction. I screamed at him. I told you I was nearing transition, so I think I was entitled. Then we tried to at least get a heparin lock so that in an emergency, they would have quick access to a vein. They tried twice, and both times the vein blew up. At this point, I decided there would be no IV. I was feeling panicky from being stuck and the nurse wasn’t being very nice about it. Gee, sorry honey, but your IV skills, or lack thereof, are not MY issue. Get over your damn self.
I continued to labor, with contractions stacking one on top of the next. Laboring on my feet brought them on faster, so I kept at it. But it was getting hard. I had to know that I was making progress. So I asked for a cervical check. I was at 8cm. I cried and told my hubby I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t WANT to do it anymore. I was done. He reminded me over and over how much I wanted this; how I fought against being induced because I wanted baby to come naturally. He helped me stay strong and resist the urge to take the easy route.
After what felt like forever, the contractions started making me feel like I had to push. The nurse checked me again. Still at 8cm. WHAT? She said that if I let the doctor break my water, she was pretty sure we’d be able to start pushing right away and have a baby soon. The idea of having baby in my arms soon was a promise of seduction. I wanted it, and SO badly. But no, I had promised myself and my baby to leave it to him and God. I refused and toughed through it some more. The urge to push got stronger and stronger so I pushed some with each contraction and then POP! Water gushed everywhere. But we were still far from done. There was lots of pushing still to be done at this point. I cried some more and wanted to give up. Then things got dramatic…
Baby’s heartrate started dropping during contractions. Not just slight decelerations either; literally from 140-150 down to the 70s, during contractions. Something was wrong. With each contraction, I pushed some more, becoming more scared with each push. I was worried that I wasn’t going to be able to get him out quickly, worried the doctor was going to demand an immediate c-section, worried he’d be angry I had no IV line to access, and worried that all this work was still going to land in the same place I fought so hard to avoid, with major surgery and a long recovery ahead.
Finally the point came that I couldn’t NOT push. I was pushing hard and trying to get him out quickly. I needed this to be over soon. I needed to hold my baby and see that he was okay. All of a sudden, I felt a ton of pressure and I knew he was coming NOW. I told the nurse and she helped through a few contractions, then she called for the doctor. The doctor didn’t come. Turns out there was no one at the nurses station because instead of the usual 2-3 babies they have in a night, there were NINE babies being born!
The nurse went to find the doctor herself and Judah started to crown. I started screaming at Jason that he was coming, that I couldn’t stop, and he needed to get ready to catch his son. It was the most terrifying moment of my life to realize I was having my baby and there was no one to catch him. The nurse returned, still with no doctor, and got there just in time to see his head emerge. There was thick meconium all over (it hadn’t been when my water broke), and she called for the NICU team while hollering something about “terminal meconium” which is just scary words for “baby pooped on the way out, not before.”
The cord was wrapped tightly around his neck THREE times. A nuchal cord is not uncommon, but three-times wrapped is quite unusual, from what I understand. It was also the reason that his heart rate had been decelerating with the contractions. The nurse quickly unwrapped the cord, vigorously wiped him off a bit and tossed him up onto my chest while she and a second nurse clamped/cut the cord. Then the doctor came in and baby was passed to the NICU team who had rushed in to check him out. He had to be suctioned a bit, but otherwise did really well with APGARs of 7 and 9. Doctor had arrived just in time to deliver the placenta and report that there was no tearing or other damage. I had a slight bit of excess bleeding, but nothing requiring special attention.
Judah was alert from birth and latched well immediately. He loves nursing and is generally a very content little baby. He weighed in at 8 pounds, 3.2 ounces and 22.5 inches long! He was born at 42 weeks + 3 days gestation at 1:20am August 24th. I am thrilled that he was born without drugs and without needing an induction. I am thankful to God for His protection and for the faith to fight for the birth my son deserved. I was blessed to have my wonderful husband by my side to help me find my strength when I had none of my own left to rely on. Judah’s brothers are crazy about him and all our friends and family are quite smitten.
and if you read all that, you deserve to see what the little monkey looks like, so here ya go:
