Our Birth Story

My little angel has finally arrived, and she is 13 days old.  This means that Charlotte has already gained one pound four ounces since her last doctor appointment a week ago, and her umbilical cord has fallen off, exposing the cutest belly button I've ever seen. Her squeaks and grunts are almost too precious for me to handle, and she is completely smitten with her daddy. We are finally settling into our new routine together of late night feedings and morning cuddles, and that means that I have just recently found a little time to do some writing. There are so many topics about motherhood that I desperately want to visit, but I'm going to start at the beginning by telling our birth story. 

I was told time and time again throughout my pregnancy to not become too attached to my birth plan, because it’s impossible to predict what is going to happen when the time comes. This advice couldn't be more relevant considering the circumstances that led up to the miracle of little Charlotte's birth.  

On Friday, February 21st at 1 a.m. I laid down to bed and almost immediately began feeling contractions coming on. I had been experiencing false labor for the previous three nights at this same time, so I didn't want to get too excited over another round of Braxton Hicks. The contractions were painful enough to keep me awake and excited, with a stopwatch in hand. The pains were far apart and all over the place, so I assumed it was false labor. When I attempted to wake up Josh throughout the night, he remained half asleep and told me to try and get some sleep, but I couldn't—this could be it! 

By 9 a.m. I was still in pain, and when Josh opened his eyes to welcome the day I was quick to tell him that I had been in pain all night, in and out of the bathtub and most likely in labor. He was surprised and woke up immediately. From there I started informing everyone in my family that I was pretty sure I was in labor, and that I would keep them posted on how my progress was going. Josh and I decided to walk the dogs, because walking is good for labor, and it was a nice distraction to walk through the contractions. The pains were coming and going, anywhere from five to 10 minutes apart, so I was trying to not get ahead of myself and head to the hospital early. I labored all day at home with support from two of my sisters and Josh. I spent the majority of my time sitting in a warm bath or bouncing on my birthing ball, although rocking in my rocking chair and going on additional walks were also helpful.

Around 8 p.m. I started feeling the exhaustion setting in from not sleeping the night before, and the pain from the contractions started getting more unbearable. My contractions were about five minutes apart at this point. Sitting in the bath, I told Josh that I thought it was time to go to the hospital. At this point I had been laboring for close to 24 hours, and I didn't want to make the mistake of going in too late. I got out of the bath and put on the most comfortable clothes I could find—spandex shorts, a loose black dress and comfy pink slippers. My hair was braided and I wasn't wearing any makeup. It's safe to say that I probably looked like a hot mess, but that was to be expected . . . I was in labor after all. Josh had spent the day cleaning the house and ensuring the car was packed and ready to go with our hospital bags, so we were all set to head out. I turned to Josh and reminded him that this very well could be the last time we were in our house without our baby girl with us. 

We drove down Euclid Ave. and I breathed through a couple contractions on the way to Ontario Kaiser. Upon arriving we found close parking to the entrance, and we headed up to the third floor labor and delivery wing. 

When we finally got to the door that served as a portal to where babies are being born, Josh rang the doorbell to get in. The woman over the speaker asked us who we were and Josh stated, "Jamie Solis, we're having a baby." This really was it—we were going to meet the little girl we've been anticipating for the past 9 months before we knew it. 

They buzzed us in, and we were redirected to an admitting room. The registered nurse that first came in took my vitals and checked to see how far along dilated I was. To my surprise I was only at three centimeters! At this point I had gone through 20 hours of labor for three centimeters. It is a general rule for the hospital staff to only admit women dilated to four centimeters or more, but we were certainly in for a surprise . . . I was going to be admitted right away because suddenly my low risk pregnancy had been escalated to a high risk status. My blood pressure was through the roof. The nurse was followed by a parade of other people, explaining their association with the hospital and how they were going to be assisting in our situation. The nurse finally informed us that my blood pressure was so high that I was at extreme risk to have a seizure or stroke. She asked if I had ever had high blood pressure before, which I admitted to having high blood pressure readings at a couple of my previous prenatal appointments, however the admitting nurses would tell me to relax and breathe until they could finally achieve lower readings. She shook her head disappointed at this news, and continued with her preparations. One nurse was sticking me with an IV while the other was asking me various questions.

At the time, I didn't realize how serious of a situation I was in, but Josh surely did. I had been reading books about natural hospital births and was under the disillusion that the hospital staff may be trying to enforce unnecessary interventions on me. However, I looked to Josh for direction and he, in a calm and assertive way, let me know that we were going to follow every directive they advised.

They immediately hooked me up to fetal monitoring systems, an IV and high doses of magnesium sulfate, which was meant to lower my blood pressure. They asked me what my plans were for pain management, where I shared how I planned on laboring without pain medication. Immediately they informed me that they highly recommended administering an epidural as soon as possible, because as the pain level increased, so would my blood pressure. I respectfully declined, and they basically told me that it could come down to a life or death situation, and that I didn't really have the choice to decline the epidural. I looked at Josh and he agreed that it was the right thing to do. Looking back, I don't know how I completely missed the severity of the situation. 

As they started wheeling me from the admitting room to my delivery room, I realized that I would not be given the option to get out of the bed, and that my labor was not going to look the way I had hoped—natural without intervention, with the allowance of getting out of bed to use my birthing ball and the shower to alleviate pain. I didn't allow myself to feel the slightest bit disappointed, because Josh was being so supportive in every decision we made, and ultimately I wanted to have a safe and healthy delivery of my little girl.

The magnesium sulfate was making me feel extremely lethargic as I was waiting for my epidural. My sisters were in the parking lot when we had to break it to them that I wasn't allowed any visitors until after I received the epidural, because the staff didn't want me to get excited and raise my blood pressure. Josh was sure to call my parents and let them know what had happened, and they were waiting on stand-by to come immediately following my epidural. 

It was amazing how quickly the epidural kicked in once it was administered. While I could still feel a pressure in my abdomen, there was no pain associated with it. The nurse then informed Josh and I that she was going to get the pitocin to hopefully speed up my labor. I had felt sincerely opposed to pitocin because of the risks associated with the use of this drug, so I asked the nurse if there was any way we could just wait for my contractions to dilate my cervix naturally. She informed me that considering the circumstances, the goal was to get Charlotte birthed as quickly as possible. I looked at Josh, and since he was more in tune with the risk, he assured me that everything was going to be okay. I was fearful that the use of an epidural and pitocin would both heighten my chances of needing a c-section, however we had to do what was best for our current situation and the risks involved. Shortly following this, my parents came into the hospital room. They ended up staying the night—Josh slept on the futon while mom slept on the chair, and dad took the floor. 

I ended up getting one or two hours of sleep that night—the anticipation, as well as the constant interference from hospital machines and procedures really got in the way of me obtaining any real relaxation. Saturday morning was February 22nd, Charlotte's due date, and it seemed like my little bean was set to arrive right on time. By 9 a.m. I was dilated to 5 centimeters, and the doctor decided to break my water. I was happy when my sisters Ashley and Natalie arrived with their boyfriends James and Cody. Everyone was in the hospital room, and I could feel the pressure of the contractions and the baby getting significantly worse. I was checked again an hour later or so and I was dilated to 7 or 8 centimeters. Eventually around 11:30 a.m. I felt overwhelmed with the feeling that everyone in the room was staring at me, and I asked for my guests to leave except for those that were already designated to be on my birthing team—Josh, mom and my little sister Natalie.

The RN named June came into the room and stated, "I saw that you kicked everyone out so I figured we'd go ahead and check to see how far you are." Sure enough, she checked, and I was dilated to 10 centimeters. She said it was time to push, and although I was completely exhausted and lethargic from lack of sleep and the constant magnesium sulfate coursing through my veins, I was so excited to finally meet my sweet baby girl. 

She informed us that for first time moms it on average could take up to four hours to successfully push the baby out, but I knew that I didn't have the energy to run this marathon, instead I was going to buckle down and push this baby out faster.

As soon as I started pushing with the support of my mom, Josh and little sister Natalie, I had an out of body experience to find strength. I felt like I was connecting with Charlotte, and that in this connection we were in tune that we were working together. When I closed my eyes I saw a glowing rose colored light, and I knew Charlotte was seeing the same light. In between contractions and pushes, my little sister was feeding me ice chips and water, which was the only sense of relief I could find. The nurse brought out a mirror so I could see Charlotte crowning. I watched her little head slowly making its way into the world, just to disappear again. The doctor kept coming in and out of the room, and it felt like although I was pushing with everything I had inside of me, that this little girl was never going to be born. 

The doctor finally came in, and it was time to meet Charlotte. I felt like we were getting close, so I really bore down and pushed with everything I had in me. I heard in what seemed like the distance the doctors referring to Charlotte's heart beat in numbers, and the numbers were dropping. They immediately threw a breathing machine on my face and directed me, "breathe for your baby." I didn't even have the energy to feel the terror you would expect in this desperate situation, instead I calmed myself down and starting breathing slowly and deeply for little Charlotte. Finally her little head emerged from the birth canal, and I looked down to see her completely purple with the umbilical cord around her neck. The doctor didn't skip a beat—he put his finger between her neck and the cord, and he cut it swiftly. He directed me to push again, which I did and shortly the rest of her little body emerged. I felt an instant overwhelming physical relief of extreme pressure that I cannot even explain when she was finally out. She was immediately rushed over to the baby cradle station where it seemed like hundreds of nurses and doctors were working on her little body. I had heard her make a tiny squeal when she was born, but I was still concerned for her safety. My niece had also been born with the cord around her neck, so this was definitely a fear of mine throughout my pregnancy.

The doctor assured me that Charlotte was fine, but I kept repeatedly asking if she was okay. Over and over again he reassured me that she was okay, but I wouldn't believe it until I heard her crying. A female doctor came to my side and explained to me that the baby was okay, but that considering the circumstances; they had to make sure that everything else was working properly with her. Finally she started crying, and I looked over to see Josh and her Auntie Natalie by her side. She was going to be fine, and we had done it. I forget who, but someone in my family informed me that the doctor had to give me an episiotomy, so he was now stitching me up. At some point I delivered the placenta and the doctor showed it to me, which I was intrigued by the way it looked. It had only taken me an hour and a half to push Charlotte out, and I was told that if the cord around her neck wasn't pulling her back in repeatedly that it could have taken even less time.

Finally the moment I was waiting for happened, they brought my sweet little Charlotte over to me for me to hold skin to skin for the next hour. My sweet little girl was finally here. 

From the moment I got pregnant I began researching natural childbirth methods, and I was sure that I would achieve a natural childbirth without pitocin, an episiotomy or an epidural. I also thought I would have the freedom to get out of bed and labor in whichever position I preferred. My actual labor experience was completely against all of my wishes, but in the end I don't have any regrets on how Charlotte's delivery went. I’m extremely grateful to have a healthy and happy baby girl, and that my life and safety was spared in the complicated process of delivering her.