A year ago today, Austin Warner Garcia came into our lives. He has grown into a sweet, curious, vocal little boy who keeps us constantly entertained and falling in love with him all over again. Here is a video I made looking back at his first year of life. Happy birthday, little buddy!
One of my favorite people ever, Julie Pennington-Russell (who was our pastor when we lived in Waco, TX), describes the Christian life in a way that also seems very apt for parenting: “Give all of yourself you can to all of the Christ you know.”
Before I became a parent, I had no idea what it would be like. I knew what it was like to be the child of very loving and supportive parents, and I had something of an idea of the kind of parent I wanted to be, but I knew (because everyone told me) that becoming a parent would be a completely unique experience. And indeed it has. But it hasn’t been the completely transforming, revolutionary experience that lots of people had recounted to me. Rather, it has been a slow awakening to a new way of life. While I felt overwhelming love and care for my son, Austin, when he was born last October, it has only been through spending time with him and getting to know him that I have started to slowly feel like a parent.
When he was first born, I didn’t feel like I had much to give and I didn’t feel like I knew him very well at all. But I gave the parts of myself that I could to all of him that I knew. Now that I’ve been a parent for all of 4 and a half months, there are many more parts of me that I am able to give. I have rediscovered and reapplied qualities of myself that have surprised even me. I have come to know my strengths and weaknesses as a person and as a parent. I know that I can be patient, empathetic, and resourceful, but I can also be anxious, desperate, and angry.
There have already been several days where Austin simply needed more than I could give. Those days made me sad. I know there will be more of those days. But on good days, I am able to take care of and connect with him, and on the best days, I am even able to make him giggle. Because baby giggles really do make it all worth it.
It is pretty cool to have this unique and inseparable connection to another human being. I am excited to see how Austin will grow, learn, and change. I hope that I can continue to give all of me that I can to all of Austin that I know.
Because seriously. Just look at this face.
(Note: I started writing this when my son Austin was about 6 weeks old. Then colic happened. So here we are almost 2 months later and I’m finally finishing it.)
I’m finally sitting down to write my birth story, almost six weeks after my son Austin was born. Although my birth story is not that atypical, many parts of it were unexpected and it has taken some time for me to process it – and also to put the pieces together through talking with my support team.
Perhaps I should start with my “birth plan.” I was conflicted for a while about whether I wanted to write up a birth plan, because really – how can you plan something so unpredictable and who would I share it with anyway that would actually listen? The modern obstetric system, which is great in many important ways that I’ll get to later, is set up to handle a very narrow definition of what constitutes a “normal” birth. But I decided I did want to take an active role in researching and expressing my wishes regarding my childbirth experience. I won’t say that nothing went according to plan, because I did allow for lots of contingencies in my birth plan, but my labor started off in a way that I had never anticipated it would: I had to be induced for medical reasons.
This is the face of a girl who is ready to not be pregnant anymore. But my mom looks super cute. 🙂
At 8 days past my due date, I was already contemplating an elective induction, but not until I was closer to two weeks past due. I went in for a routine doctor’s appointment on Friday, October 25, and we set an induction date for the following Tuesday, unless our little guy decided he was ready to come before then. My doctor sent me over to a specialist’s office to do a non-stress test, which is where they monitor the baby’s heart beat for 15 minutes and do an ultrasound to check for any abnormalities. That was when we discovered that there was barely any amniotic fluid left in my uterus, which meant that the placenta had started deteriorating. I asked the technician if this could be managed by simply increasing my fluid intake, but she explained that amniotic fluid is created by the baby as a type of waste product after processing the nutrients it receives through the placenta and umbilical cord. Low fluid levels means that the baby is potentially not getting enough nutrients and therefore is at higher risk for complications such as fetal distress. The best course, she said, was to induce labor as soon as possible. So – off we went to the hospital.
Up until that point, I had experienced exactly zero signs of pre-labor. I half-wondered if my body even knew how to get into labor at all. At 7:30pm on Friday night, they admitted me to the hospital and started me on a very slow drip of Pitocin, an artificial form of the hormone oxytocin which causes the uterus to contract. At that point, I was about 3cm dilated. The nurse came back about every hour or so to check and see how strong the contractions were and how far apart they were. For the most part in the early hours of labor, the contractions were manageable and I had Jonathan and my doula there to help me practice the breathing and relaxation techniques we had practiced.
Over the next 12 hours, they gradually increased the dosage of Pitocin until the contractions became more intolerable. Along with the painful tightening of my uterus, I experienced severe nausea with each contraction and had to be given medication to help quell the nausea. This may sound crazy, but the nausea was as bad as, if not worse than, the pain from the contractions. It’s common to experience nausea near the end of labor, but unfortunately I experienced it throughout. If I had to describe the contractions, I would they felt like severe bouts of cramping stomach pain, particularly since it came in waves, involved my whole torso contacting, and (for me) was accompanied by nausea. I experienced most of the intensity of the contractions in my upper abdomen and my low back.
At 7:30am Saturday morning, after 12 hours of laboring on Pitocin without any pain medication, I decided that I could not handle the pain and nausea on my own and requested an epidural. At this point, I was already well into what they call LaborLand and I was conscious of things on a more instinctual level than an intellectual level. The first anesthesiologist came very soon after requesting the epidural since they caught him before he went off of shift and he wanted to finish his last job quickly. According to Jon, the administration of this first epidural was very messy and disturbing, although my entire attention at that point was focused on sitting still through the contractions while the anesthesiologist did what he needed to do. It seemed like it took forever for him to finish. After they administer an epidural, they also have to begin a whole host of other interventions as well, from contraction monitoring to more IV fluids to a catheter. Plus, you’re bed-ridden after that point. I think I counted 9 or 10 different wires/tubes/instruments attached to my body at that point. I couldn’t have gotten out of bed even if I wanted to because I was attached to so many different machines! However, this first epidural only worked on half of my body (though I can’t remember which half now). I think that since I had gotten an epidural, the staff figured they could up my Pitocin drip, so the contractions were getting super intense.
Even though I was only feeling contractions on one side of my body, it was all I could do to manage with my breathing techniques (since moving around was not an option anymore) until the next anesthesiologist came. Over two hours later. They had to take all of the tubing and taping from the previous epidural out and go through the entire process again, so I had to sit still for about twice as long this time. Jon also had to sit through the gory process again, holding my hand and helping me through the contractions. Luckily, this epidural worked. Really well. A little too well. With the first one, I had been able to shift from side to side and move my legs somewhat. No more. My legs were dead weight and I had to have someone else help me roll from side to side every half hour or so to get comfortable.
Part of my support team: doula Elizabeth and Jon.
Part of my support team: dad, mom-in-law, and sister-in-law.
Since the second epidural worked, I was able to relax a bit more and we were all able to get a bit of rest between about 9:30am and 1:00pm. A little after lunchtime, the nurse came in and checked me and I was fully dilated (I guess the epidural had really sped up that process!). She said that at 1:00pm, we would start to push. From 1:00-2:30pm, I pushed while lying on my left side with Jon, my mom, and my doula at my side coaching me along. This part of labor was very methodical and I felt the most confident and in control during it. The epidural was working enough so that the pain was not overwhelming, but I could still feel each contraction come on and felt the urge to push, which I think helped immeasurably. By 2:30pm, delivery was eminent, but the OB was running late. I think if the nurse had had her druthers, she would have delivered me herself. The delivery itself was super intense and I’m sure I made crazy sounds that have never come out of my mouth before. There was so much pressure and when Austin was finally born, it was such a physical and mental relief. And yes, I did tear up when I heard that first cry.
Since they had seen meconium when they broke my water, I knew that they would have the NICU nurses take Austin over to the incubator to make sure that he was okay. I heard them suctioning him (though I couldn’t seen anything because of the layout of the room and my position on the delivery bed) and people were commenting on how he had such big hands and feet and had so much hair. When it became clear that the nurses were not going to bring Austin over to us any time soon, I sent Jon over to be with Austin and he held his little hand while the nurses continued to suction him for a good 20 minutes. Despite this, he got good Apgar scores, 8 at 1 minute and 9 at 5 mintues.
Meeting Austin for the first time.
It was at this point that I realized that something was not right with me. My hands and feet started to go numb and I was getting very dizzy. My labor and delivery nurse told me that my blood pressure had dropped really low and they had to put me on an oxygen mask to try to get my levels to come back up. I hadn’t hemorrhaged very much, but it was at this time that we learned my hemoglobin (red blood count) levels had been low when I was admitted the day before, around 8.5 when the normal range is 12-15. After delivery, it had dropped to the critically low level of 5.5. Because of this complication, they admitted me to a special labor and delivery unit and made me lie flat in bed for the next 6 or so hours (which, after having been confined to the bed since receiving the epidural at 7:30am that morning REALLY SUCKED) while the lab processed a blood transfusion for me. I also didn’t see Austin (and Jon, who went with him to the nursery while they observed Austin) for a long time. I briefly got to see Austin in the delivery room before they took him away, but I was so frustrated that I couldn’t really hold him, breastfeed him, and bond with him because I was so weak. I also spiked a fever when they moved me to the postpartum room, so they started me on antibiotics as well. I don’t remember much about the 12 or so hours I spent in the postpartum unit, except being woken up and poked and prodded every hour or two.
At some point, I realized that Jon seemed to be in shock from the whole experience and had somewhat shut down to everything around him. While I was enduring the physical trauma of the experience, I was somewhat spared from a lot of the psychological trauma because of all the labor and delivery hormones (like adrenalin and oxytocin) and the general confusion caused by the low hemoglobin levels. Jon had supported me through 18 hours of labor, stood by while Austin was handled by nurses for hours, and didn’t always know the status of my health post-delivery since he was separated from me. Understandably, it eventually became too much to handle and he just sort of shut down emotionally and did what anyone told him to do. By the time we got to see each other on Saturday night, it was like we were a world apart. Luckily, the postpartum room they put me in had a spare bed, so the three of us (me in one bed, Jon in another, and Austin in a bassinet between us) slept, however fitfully, in the same room that first night.
Early the next morning, after much cajoling (and probably whining), I finally convinced the nurse to let me get out of bed and use the bathroom on my own. My hemoglobin levels were still hovering dangerously low (around 6.5), but I was pretty much asymptomatic otherwise since the numbness, dizziness, and fever had subsided. All day Sunday, I focused on resting, getting to know Austin, and reconnecting with Jon. Around lunchtime on Sunday, they moved me to the regular maternity ward and we had some of THE BEST nurses take care of us there. They continued to give me antibiotics and had to give me another blood transfusion, so I was almost continually hooked up to several machines and IV lines. All throughout labor and delivery (as well as during the postpartum period), they pumped me full of saline fluids and my hands and feet swelled up enormously (even more so than in the last few weeks of pregnancy). This swelling was also related to my continued low hemoglobin.
Big ole feet.
Those few days in the hospital were some of the toughest – physically and emotionally – that I’ve ever experienced. Even the simplest movements like turning from side to side in bed brought enormous pain and I was almost too drained to be able to cognitively function and take care of our new baby. I was so lucky to have Jon and my parents there to feed, change, and hold little Austin while I tried to recover. I was amazed at how strong and vital Austin was. The labor and delivery had taken so much out of me, but he had almost no complications and seemed to be adjusting to the outside world beautifully. This gave me such great peace of mind and also inspired me to be strong like him.
Granddaddy holding Austin.
Grammie holding Austin.
By Monday afternoon, they were ready to discharge us. Even though my hemoglobin levels were still very low (around 6.5), I continued to be asymptomatic otherwise (except for general weakness and pallor) and I REALLY wanted to go home. Interestingly, in the weeks following delivery, I had an overall positive view of the experience. It was, by all counts, a very medicalized and highly managed birth, which was not exactly what I had pictured in my prenatal preparations. But I was grateful that there was the medical expertise to help with the complications that arose, and, at least initially, I felt like I maintained a sense of agency throughout the process. (Except when they wouldn’t let me out of bed – curse them!)
New family all together right before discharge.
Looking back now, some parts of my story shock me or bother me. There were things that I would have liked to do differently, but at the same time, I know that some of the issues I had necessitated certain interventions being taken. It has been quite a journey recovering and debriefing from the experience, but I finally feel like things are getting back to a relative normal and I’m coming to terms with it. I am so incredibly blessed with a beautiful, healthy baby and an amazingly supportive partner who has become an incredible father and inspired me to be the best mother I can be.
Family photo when Austin was 6 weeks old.
Our cute little pumpkin.
SW(a)G 