A little background: I am a nurse and I currently work as the nurse educator at a busy OB/GYN office, so I tend to err on the side of “non-urgency” when it comes to OB situations. My birth trauma story is with my third and final baby.  I had my first two babies vaginally and unmedicated, and was hoping to do the same with my third. 

My Third Pregnancy

My third pregnancy was a BIG surprise. We knew we wanted to add another baby to our family eventually, but hadn’t really planned on it happening when it did.  I was tracking my cycles and THOUGHT I knew when I was ovulating, but apparently miscalculated and I found out I was pregnant! 

I decided to do the 10-12 week genetic testing and find out the gender as well. I hadn’t done that with either of my girls, but I am 33 and felt it was a good idea.  Plus we would get to find out the gender earlier instead of waiting until the anatomy scan! I was SURE it was a girl. I was hoping and praying for a third girl. I had the name picked out and I already had all of the clothes for every season and size from my other two children.  

I took the envelope with the gender to a bakery and had a large cupcake made with the color inside. I took it home and we cut into it with the girls. IT WAS BLUE. I was SHOCKED. I had to immediately hide my surprise and disdain, for the girls. I didn’t want them to think this was a disappointment.  I left the room and SOBBED. I felt like a horrible person, crying over a boy. I should be thrilled! I just wasn’t. 

Mourning the Birth I Envisioned

Fast forward to my anatomy scan. Everything looked good with his growth, except I was told I had a placenta previa. For those unaware, a placenta previa is where your placenta is covering your cervix, either partially or completely. It can be extremely dangerous for the mother and baby if labor and delivery is attempted with a complete placenta previa.  Mom could bleed out.  They told me, at 20 weeks, this still has the potential to move away from the cervix, so we will reevaluate in 6-8 weeks.  I had another scan at 28 weeks and was told that I most likely would have to have a primary cesarean section because the placenta was staying put over my cervix, a complete placenta previa. I went ahead and scheduled another scan for 34 weeks JUST IN CASE it moved.  I spent that day sobbing, crying, and mourning over the loss of the birth I envisioned for us. I had been going through this pregnancy ambivalent over the baby, this boy who I still didn’t feel connected to, and hadn’t even been trying for, and now I have to have major surgery? How would I recover with a newborn, a 2 year old, and a 4 year old at home? I felt cheated and felt like this was so unfair.

Panic at 34 Weeks

I never made it to my 34 week scan. The morning of the scheduled scan, I was 34 weeks exactly. It was a Wednesday. My alarm went off at 6am, and I got up to brush my teeth and take a shower before work. I gagged and dry heaved while brushing my teeth (not unusual for me in pregnancy), and I felt a gush. I thought “oh perfect I just peed my pants”. I took my pants down and my underwear was covered in blood.  My shower was going, and I thought, okay I’ll jump in the shower really quick to make sure I get all the blood off. I thought I might just go to outpatient labor and delivery, and they would monitor me and maybe I would get some steroids to help the baby’s lungs develop before delivery. I knew bleeding with a placenta previa meant I needed to go to the hospital, but I didn’t think that today was going to be his birthday.

I remember saying out loud in the shower “don’t panic, don’t panic”. My husband goes to work at 3am so he wasn’t home. My 2 girls were sleeping. I got out of the shower and felt relieved because I didn’t notice any more blood. I got a pad and got dressed and called my husband. I was cool, calm, and collected. I told him I was going to go to the hospital. At this point, I planned on driving myself. Ha. Ha. I called my OB office (where I work). I knew the phones weren’t on but I knew I could talk to the answering service who could send a message to the providers at the hospital. I tried THREE TIMES and it just kept ringing. It never went through to anyone. It’s now 6:20. I started to feel uneasy at this point and started scrolling my address book for a provider I work with, who could call the hospital and give them a heads up that I was on my way in. I thought of a resident who I trust, and I had her number. I texted her.

As I walked down the hallway, I felt another large gush and I knew in that moment that I was going to keep bleeding.  In the walk down the hallway, the blood poured down my legs and onto my socks and shoes and pooled on the floor. I started to panic. At that point, I called 911. The resident got back to me and she told me 911 was the right thing to do. She told me she was going to talk to labor and delivery and they would be ready for me.

One of my best friends, coworker, and fellow nurse lives about 5 minutes away from me. She was up and getting ready for work when I called her. She convinced me to let her come to my house. Additionally, my dad and stepmom were visiting from Florida and staying elsewhere. I called them to come to the house. By this time, the firefighters had arrived. I was sitting in a chair and blood was just pooling underneath me. 

I went through moments of panic and deep breathing to try and relax. I thank God for this one firefighter. I can’t remember his face (he had a mask on because of COVID), but I so deeply remember his blue eyes and the way he just kept redirecting me to focus on breathing and staying calm each time I started to panic. Every time I felt a gush I would panic. The ambulance took 25 minutes to arrive to my house. I still think that is absolutely unacceptable. 

Getting to The Hospital (Finally!)

My oldest daughter (5) woke up when the firefighters and my friend were there and she was confused and didn’t understand what was going on. I don’t think I was able to reassure her at all, but since then we have discussed this story in detail. I walked myself to the ambulance and repeatedly urged them to leave, it didn’t seem like there was any urgency to me. I asked for a Doppler to listen to his heart tones. They didn’t have one in the ambulance. How could they not have one??? I tried to take comfort in noticing every single kick and movement he made during that ambulance ride.  I continued to bleed during the ride, and at this point the blood was soaking up my shirt because my pants were saturated and there was nowhere else for it to go. I continued to talk to the resident, and at 6:43 I sent a text that said “I’m panicking”. She told me at 6:53 to tell the ambulance drivers a specific bay to pull into, which I did. My husband was following us in his car at this point.

We rolled in through a bay at the hospital and the labor and delivery team was waiting in the hallway with an ultrasound. The resident instantly put it on my stomach and said “there’s his heartbeat, right there!!!”. That’s when it first really sunk in that him dying was a legitimate concern. There was a lot of things happening in this moment, people running, they were wheeling me into the OR. The attending said “we are going to take a look at your baby, and he needs to come out today”. I just kept nodding and saying “okay”. I was trying to remain calm. I was terrified. They put the monitor on, and his heart rate wasn’t doing well. They were taking my pants off, and the attending said “Is this how much you’ve been bleeding? How long has this been?” I looked at my watch and it was 7:10. It had been about an hour. She said, “Your baby’s heart rate isn’t tolerating this anymore, and you have lost a lot of blood. We just don’t have time to do a spinal. He has to come out, and we are going to have to put you under general anesthesia.” She was so calm and I trusted her. I know her from the office I work at and I know she is a wonderful physician. Once again, I just kept saying “okay”. Luckily, the paramedics were still there trying to get their stretcher out, and one paramedic asked me if he could call my husband. I gave him my husband’s cell phone number and he wrote it down. 

An Unexpected Birthday

The next thing I remember was waking up in A TON of pain. I was in recovery. I had a catheter and I was told I had a very large incision. They told me he was out and in the NICU. They told me he cried a LOUD cry and everyone was so relieved to hear it. They worked on managing my pain and getting me a PCA (Pain button I could press), because I didn’t get a spinal. I finally saw my husband who told me he had been upstairs to the NICU to see our son. He was 4#11oz and 18 inches long. They told me he was transverse (in sideways) and they really had to yank hard to get his legs out from under my ribs. From the time they put me under and made the first cut, my son was born 8 minutes later at 7:28 am.

I later found out that when my husband got to the hospital he ran in. Because of COVID rules and regulations, they needed to get a name for who he was coming to see, he couldn’t just come back. He told them that his wife just arrived by ambulance and he gave them my name. They told him I wasn’t there. (I wasn’t registered in the system because they whisked me away to the OR immediately). He insisted I was there, and they still wouldn’t let him back. He paced back and forth for 15 minutes or so, not knowing anything, before the paramedic called him. I am so thankful he asked for my husband’s number. When my husband got back to the floor, they asked him if he wanted to meet his son. His son? He couldn’t believe I had surgery and that our son was here. That’s when he went to the NICU to meet him. We still didn’t have a name.

It took a couple hours to get my initial pain under control and the PCA hooked up. The nurse was unbelievable. I feel so honored to be part of this profession. She wheeled me up to the NICU to meet my son. She is the one who suggested to take a first family photo (thank you so much, I would never have thought of this). Once I saw him, laying on his stomach, with machines and tubes and wires, I felt so helpless. I couldn’t stop sobbing. I felt like I did this to him, my body failed me, failed us. My sweet sweet baby. We named him Reid Joseph (Joseph after my dad).

Recovery

I feel that it’s important to mention that my team was amazing. In no way, shape, or form, were they part of this trauma. Additionally, the surgeon who delivered Reid came and saw me in my room. She discussed with me that birth trauma is a very real thing, and that it may not be a priority now, but I will need to consider processing it down the line. And she was right. Reid was only in the NICU for 10 days and was able to come home. I got to spend those 10 days with him in a transition room together once I was discharged. It was divine intervention that my dad and stepmom happened to be here visiting – they were able to stay with my kids while my husband worked so I could remain at the hospital with Reid. Generally speaking, he was an extremely fussy baby. It was not easy. I remember saying “This has been the most joyless experience” while sobbing over his crying one day. That’s when my nightly flashbacks started. I started visualizing the bleeding and all of the things that occurred the day he was born. This happened every night that I put my oldest daughter to bed. I would lay with her, and as she drifted to sleep, I would obsess. That’s when I knew I needed to talk to someone. I have since been in therapy and learned a ton of tools to help me process the birth trauma. I knew putting our story into words was going to help. I felt the physical effects come into my body as I wrote this out, and used some of those learned skills to calm my body. As many others have mentioned, I also felt shame in this story. Like, “Other people have had it so much worse”, and “who am I to say this is trauma”. Trauma is trauma. I am such an advocate for therapy and wholeheartedly believe it has helped me with being able to talk about this 6 months later, without sobbing or feeling nauseous. 

About The Author

My name is Emily, I am a mother of three and a nurse. I am a Michigander by birth, and have been happily living in NC since 2011.