It Wasn’t a Kidney Stone… Dumplin’s Birth Story¬†

Dumplin’ is sun tanning with my mom right now, so I have a little time to post. 

Today he would’ve been 39 weeks gestation, and I’m sad that I don’t have a bump photo capturing our last moments being physically bound to each other at 38 weeks 2 days. But things kinda happened really quickly…. And unexpectantly.

So you remember that flank pain that confused the bejesus out of all of my health care providers? First we thought back labour, then we thought posterior presentation, then on Wednesday night I thought kidney stone. Well Thursday morning the pain changed from being only at night and only when lying down to pretty much all positions and all the time without a break. I was in such agony that I had DW take me to the hospital, where the L&D OB on call just gave me morphine, did an ultrasound of my kidney, and then sent me home with a prescription for oxycodone and told me to come back if the pain got worse. Overnight the pain continued to be unrelenting, and did get worse. My mom flew in at 7am Friday morning, and I couldn’t drive to pick her up. So she took a cab, and then had a nap at our house until she woke up to me wailing at the top of my lungs and puking all over the top of the toilet… Red from all the Gatorade I had been trying to drink to stay hydrated. 

I asked her to take me to the hospital, where a different OB took a look at the ultrasound results which found that my left kidney was dilated (swollen), and that it suggests that something was occluding (cutting off) it’s drainage- but that there was no identifiable kidney stone. The OB hypothesized that maybe the obstruction was Dumplin’ himself- that he was squishing my ureter and cutting off the drainage from my kidney. She did a vaginal check- I was already quite effaced, and about 2 cm dilated, so she figured that with the pain getting worse, and with Dumplin’ already being term, maybe it was time to do a stretch and sweep and break my water. So I consented, and off we were….

I called DW at work, and she met us at the hospital after grabbing a few things from home. I called her dad and he drove 2 hours to stay at our home with our dogs.

Then over the next 21 hours I was induced to 10cm, while hooked up to an epidural and given occasional shots of some “super strength” anaesthetic not usually given for L&D, but for the most extreme cases of pain. The anasthesiologist said he only gives this med about once a year. “Winner winner chicken dinner” I thought, “Lucky fucking me”.

Then it was 2 hours of pushing, which yielded no progress. Dumplin’ stayed at a station 0 the whole time, despite excellent pushing, so they figured something was wrong with his positioning, and my midwives consulted with the OB about maybe doing a vacuum or forceps delivery. This next OB (there had been 2 already because I had been there so long) did a vaginal exam to see how far up Dumplin’ was and said that he was too far up to get out via forceps or vacuum, and that this would need to be a c-section. Concurrently, Dumplin’s baseline heart rate was climbing, as he was becoming distressed with the pitocin.

So in a matter of minutes, consents were signed, I was moved to the OR, was prepped and strapped to the operating table which always freaks me out because it’s like being strapped to a cross, and I was cut open. 

They didn’t let DW into the OR until they had already started cutting into me, so there were a few minutes where I was alone behind that blue sheet, scared as hell. But then there was a hand holding my right hand, which was strapped down, and I looked over to see my midwife and her consoling eyes. 

Soon, DW was beside me, holding my left hand and then my midwife disappeared to the other side of the blue curtain. 

Within seconds, I heard the OB and nurses exclaim “my goodness it’s gotta be a 10 pounder!”, and tears ran down my face as I heard Dumplin’s first cries. 

The second midwife then appeared, showing me Dumplin’ for a split second, and then asked DW to come with her and the baby. They measured (53cm or 21.5inches long) and weighed (8lbs5.6oz) him, did his APGAR (9/9). DW also got to do skin to skin with him, and they brought him over so I could be cheek to cheek with him as they sewed me up.

In the recovery room, I was allowed to do skin to skin with him and was encouraged to start him latching on. Dumplin’ was a pro! Over the next two hours, we were moved to our private room, where we had a mandatory 48 hour stay. 

More on our stay and my feelings about everything that went down over that period of four days at the hospital in my next post. There’s an adorable screaming baby that beckons…