A Tale of Two Births

They say that pregnancy and birth is a beautiful thing. My experiences showed me that it can be ugly, traumatic, and life threatening. I wanted to know why was I cursed with the pregnancies from hell! Is this how God wanted to show His love for me? Why me? One day, it would all make sense.

I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarium both pregnancies. This wasn’t morning sickness. It felt like a death sentence. Vomiting at least four to ten times a day, endless nausea, electrolyte imbalance, weight loss of 50+ pounds, and loss of nutrients. I was subjected to bed rest for both pregnancies along with a zofran pump for the entire nine months of pregnancy. It was an absolute nightmare.

Although both pregnancies were alike as far as being terribly sick, the deliveries were quite the opposite. My first born was delivered in a calm and beautiful environment. My doctor was phenomenal and I was only in labor for six hours (it would have been less than that if I had a doula and knew that position changes could accelerate the birth)! This delivery set the standard on how I thought deliveries should happen. The second delivery ripped that into tiny little pieces.

We PCS’d (permanent change of station) to Minot, ND while seven months pregnant. When I went into labor at thirty nine weeks, I labored at home as long as possible. I arrived at the hospital at eight and a half centimetres. I stay there for four hours. The doctor finally broke my water at 12:01 and the baby was here at 12:11! This is where it takes a turn. My uterus began contracting once my placenta was delivered as it should. It then became too painful for me to bare. The nurse blew it off and said that it becomes more painful after each child you have. I was screaming in agony as this pain was simply unfathomable and I just wanted it to stop. My voice nor my husband’s was heard. I asked for the doctor but was told they would call him and he would assess if he needed to come or not. I asked three times before he was finally called. The nurse then informed me that I needed to use the bathroom as I haven’t been since the baby was born. Before I reached the edge of the bed, I passed out and I have no memory of what happened next. My next memory is me receiving two blood transfusions and hearing that I passed a blood clot that filled a two liter glass baker. I almost lost my life while trying to give life.

I now realize that my journey happened for a reason. It birthed a birth doula. It helped me realize my purpose and propelled me into my destiny. From my trauma came An Intimate Beginning, LLC. I want to ensure that no woman’s/birther’s voice is silenced and that their birth is everything they imagined it to be.