The Birth!

After 9 long months, ish, 38 weeks plus 6 days to be specific, Max was born by cesarean section on March 18. In general, it was a relatively easy-going experience. I was certainly nervous beforehand, and surprised at how easy it all was. I got a kick out of the anesthetic, of not being able to wiggle my toes or move my legs no matter how hard my brain tried. Steve played great music on our bluetooth speaker that made me very relaxed, and even the doctors complimented. And at the end of it we had our little baby out in the world, and he was healthy and I was healthy. 

I wanted to write about the experience so I could remember it in the future. It’s taken me weeks to write this blog post. Probably the reason it’s so long is I haven’t written it in one sitting, but keep coming back to it when I can find the time and motivation. It tells the story of the birth, and the first day of our baby’s life. Next I really want to write about the first few weeks of being a mom, and how unbelievably hard breastfeeding is.

Birth Preferences

Since this was a planned, “elective” c-section, I was all prepared with my birth preferences chart. Often referred to as a birth plan, but using the word preferences to recognize that not everything will always go to plan. It’s used by pregnant women to make sure any medical professional overseeing their labor/delivery can quickly catch up on what the mother wants. My preferences laid out that I didn’t want people chatting during my surgery, that I wanted to play music, I wanted the curtain lowered so I could see my baby be born, that I wanted skin to skin as quickly as possible. Importantly, it noted that my birth partner, Steve, may be uncomfortable in the surgery room too. 

Our doulas had helped us emotionally and mentally prepare for the surgery by informing us what typically happens during a c-section and the options available. Additionally, I used the Positive Birth Book by Millie Hill to identify some of the things that might be on a birth preferences list. Hill’s book provides circular images that expectant mothers can use to help display preferences quickly, so medical staff don’t have to read through pages of text. I downloaded them from the internet, cut out the ones that resonated with me, and stuck them to a piece of blue card. 

Last photo pre-parenthood.

At 7am, my mom dropped Steve and me off at the hospital. We had a tearful hug goodbye. I was nervous and very emotional. This was the last time I’d see Mom for a few days as the hospital was no longer allowing any visitors in, besides birth partners, due to the Coronavirus pandemic. 

I had read online that I might spend 3-4 days in the hospital recovering. Steve would be allowed from 9am to 9pm every day. I wanted my doula, Sophie, to be there for the surgery, especially for support after the birth. I had no idea what I was doing, and knew she’d be a great help. Especially with breastfeeding. 

However, the midwife who met with me two days before the surgery had said Sophie wouldn’t be allowed. I did some skilled internet research to find the email addresses of two people I thought might be able to provide permission: the head midwife and one of the consultant surgeons, who I had been told might be my surgeon on the day. The head midwife responded that she had looked into it, but the hospital’s rules were very firm and my doula would not be allowed in the surgery or on the postnatal ward. The surgeon I contacted never responded, and after all, he wasn’t my surgeon anyway. Sophie assured me she would be available for text and phone call support at any time. 

Checking into the Maternity Ward

We checked in at the maternity ward and were shown to a room with four beds, each separated by curtains. Steve and I were given the bed by the window, which I was grateful for hours later when my hormones were keeping me as hot as a fiery chimney! Two other women occupied beds in the room. The medical staff took turns meeting with each of us behind closed curtains. First we met the nurse midwife who would receive the baby and check him over once he arrived. She listened to my birth preferences. Some of them she couldn’t guarantee, like immediate skin-to-skin contact. This is said to have many benefits, including bonding, calming baby, hormone release to lower mom’s stress, and encouraging milk to come in. She explained that there wouldn’t be much room for him to be on my chest until I was leaving the room. Also, the operating theatre tends to be very cold and the newborn would need to be wrapped up to keep warm. I said OK, trusting she knows best. Besides, this was a list of preferences, I knew all of it might not be possible.

Getting to know my Birth Team

Next the anesthetist came in. His name was Chris. He looked at my birth preferences and said that he would be able to meet my request to be informed of what was happening throughout the surgery. Chris also acknowledged that Steve might feel uncomfortable and he would keep an eye on that too. He walked us through the procedure for the spinal anesthetic that I would receive. I had attended a “checking in” appointment two days before where one of the anesthetists had met with me and had also run through the whole procedure. So I had a good idea of what was going to happen. Chris was very nice and answered all of our questions as best he could.  

When the surgeon came in, he introduced himself quickly and started asking us questions about our situation. When I told him the baby was breech he wanted to do an ultrasound to check the positioning. He moved about at a pace that felt entirely like he was on his own, not in the room with a first time mom who may be a little anxious about her baby and this major surgery. Once he confirmed the baby’s position I tried to explain to him my birth preferences and ask him if they would be possible. 

He was very dismissive and kept telling me that he couldn’t do all the things I wanted. Like, lowering the curtain so I can see the birth, keeping me informed of what’s happening during surgery, allowing the midwife to take a photo of the birth itself. His reasoning was that if something was going wrong, he didn’t want to stress me out. Since the baby was breech it wouldn’t be an easy, straightforward birth so he didn’t think photos were a good idea. 

Yes, it makes sense, buthe way he relayed this information, he made me feel unheard. Everyone else had acknowledged my desires and connected with why I might emotionally want something, but he made me feel like an idiot for even asking. I became tearful and despondent. Then he left us. Steve held my hand and asked if I was OK. He knew that had been a shitty encounter. I took a deep breath and reflected on the fact that I honestly just wanted it to be over with so our baby would be here. 

The Surgery

Since there were three of us waiting for c-sections, the medical team picked the order of operations (pun intended). I got the short straw, we would be last. You know I hate waiting. I hadn’t eaten since 10pm the night before and I wasn’t allowed any liquids! I was so thirsty and begged Steve to let me have a sneaky drink of his water. He said no! (The midwife also said no.) I think it’s so you don’t get queasy on the anesthetic, throw up and potentially choke. The first woman was taken away at 9am. The second woman was taken at 10:30am and the first returned by around 11. Steve played some music and I took the chance to nap. We tried to guess that time our baby would be born based on the times the other women had come and gone. I guessed 12:36, thinking we’d go around 12 and it apparently doesn’t take long once they cut me open to pull out the baby. Price Is Right rules, Steve guessed later. 

An awkward walk down the hall to the operating room

I don’t remember the exact time we were taken through to the operating area, but I believe it was after 12pm. I walked in my hospital gown and a robe I brought from home. Steve wheeled the little bed that our baby would be put in. Nurses wheeled my bed. I was given a seat to wait on next to a hospital bed. Steve was given a set of scrubs to wear. As he disappeared to change, I sat watching nervously as various medical staff moved about. 

A woman in scrubs introduced herself as the person who would watch over me during the recovery period. It’s a time when you first come out of the surgery and they make sure your blood pressure stays stable and no other vital signs go haywire. I saw the surgeon walk down the hall, he smiled and waved at me, “we’ll have you taken care of soon!” he said. I cringed remembering how I’d cried in front of him earlier, it felt like he was trying to make up for some of it. Or maybe he was oblivious. 

I could see a big door to the operating room. I watched it as people came in and out. A woman came out carrying a huge bag of dirty sheets/cloths (was that blood I could see?). The birth partner of woman number two appeared and waited in the recovery bay next to me. Shortly after, woman number two was wheeled out of the operating theatre. Her baby wasn’t visible, I could tell she was holding “it” under her gown. The nurse I’d met earlier came out of the operating room and joined them in the bay. I could hear talk of breastfeeding. Steve came out in his blue scrubs. It suited him. Dr. Steve. 

The anesthetic team, three of them, escorted us into the operating room. They talked me through the spinal procedure. It was the third time I’d heard it now, which was good because it meant I was very prepared with what was going to happen. I had to relax my shoulders, round my back like a cat, and tuck my chin down. It was the most uncomfortable part of the whole thing. One of the anesthetists stood in front of me, with her hands on my shoulders to help me keep the position. Such a hard position to hold around a pregnant belly.

Steve started up some music. He had a few playlists but ended up going off-list and creating it on the fly. We don’t have an exact record of what was played, but I’ve listed some songs below. I asked for something a bit more upbeat to begin with. It was helping me stay distracted. I don’t remember all the songs, but I’m pretty sure Kooks by David Bowie played during the spinal.

Chris told me first I would get a lidocaine injection. “Oh, that’s really going to hurt” Steve said, rather unhelpfully! It actually wasn’t that bad. 

I was told I would feel pressure but no pain as Chris inserted the spinal needle. After half a minute, I felt a strange dull pain run down my back on the right side and into my butt cheek. Not something you want to feel when you’re meant to be getting numb! I told them I could feel some pain. Chris readjusted. I couldn’t see this, but I could feel it. A few more times I felt that pain. I think he took the needle out and tried a new insertion, but I can’t be sure. It seemed to take ages. At this point Steve let me know it was 12:30 and I was likely going to lose my bet on the birth time of our baby! 

A few minutes later the two anesthetists supporting Chris got me to lie down on the table. I could already start to feel tingling in my lower body. It wasn’t more than a minute when Chris asked me to lift my legs. I thought, yeah easy I’ll lift them right up. They moved only maybe an inch off the table. This stuff worked really quickly! 

He then tested me with a very cold spray. First spraying it on my shoulder so I could feel how cold it would be on my skin (ice cold!). Then he would spray on my body, gradually getting higher up toward my chest. I could feel nothing at first, by my stomach, not even a damp spray, but as he moved up I would feel the wet, and then finally the cold. It was a sign that it was working, we’d test again in a few minutes. By that point I couldn’t feel anything when he sprayed me with the cold liquid. 

I felt really strange. The anesthetic, or maybe it was some other drug they put into my arm, lowers the blood pressure. Obviously, something you want during a surgery so you don’t bleed too much. It’s a really weird feeling, kind of like being tired, a little sleepy. Chris had told me to let him know if I started to not feel well because although they’re monitoring my blood pressure every few minutes, my brain would know first if I was really unwell. There’s a risk that you could vomit and choke, that would be really bad. Luckily, it never came to that. I just felt really chilled out. It was like having an out of body experience because I couldn’t feel most of my body. I was lying on the table and sometimes my brain would wonder if I was really there at all. 

The nurse and the surgeon’s assistant created a screen between my chest and lower body. They put the catheter in, I was grateful to not feel that! I was hooked up to a blood pressure machine that would take a reading every two minutes. 

Steve helps set the tone

I had to keep my arm stretched out for the blood pressure monitor, so I rested it on Steve’s shoulder. He was right by my head. I asked him for some chill music now. He started a queue of songs with Two Fish and an Elephant, by Khruangbin, a band we saw live at the Fillmore in San Francisco last year. Steve kept checking in with me, making sure I was feeling ok. He was also chatting with the anesthetic team, which helped make everything feel so normal.

 The surgeon came in and said hello. After that I literally couldn’t see him the whole time. For which I was grateful. They did some medical talk, confirming who I was, the procedure, that I was anesthetized, etc.

I asked Chris, “have they started yet?”,

 “Oh yes, two minutes ago,” he replied. 

Chris kept me informed of what was happening. Once it was time to get the baby out, he let me know we’d hear a pop, a gushing sound, and suction. That would be the opening of the embryonic sac and suction of my waters. 

I wondered if that would make Steve quesy, but he hardly seemed bothered. On reflection he told me that it was a little surprising, but really he was most concerned about the idea of having to see my stomach cut open. So he was glad the surgeon wouldn’t lower the curtain.

 When I asked if he had been uncomfortable during the operation, he smiled. “Hanging out with you– your face– listening to chill music and talking to Chris. Totally fine.” 

“You’re going to feel pressure on your abdomen and some tugging,” Chris warned me as they got to the part of bringing the baby out into the world. “Since he’s breech, it might take a little while. He’s in a tricky position.”

 It took a few minutes. The nurse told me later it had been "a difficult extraction". I remember the feeling of pressure on my stomach. I thought, surely they’re just crushing my baby. I thought I would feel it when he was pulled out, like it would be a significant feeling of my stomach emptying. But it wasn’t that big of a feeling, in fact I can hardly recall it. It’s not like there was a moment when I physically felt that he was out of me. It was just the tugging and pressure stopped. 

Baby is out!

I first knew he was out when the nurse walked over to this heating device to my right and called Steve over to take photos while they assessed him. Newborns are checked for Appearance, Pulse, Grimace, Activity, and Respiration (APGAR), they get a score out of 10. The score is assessed at birth, after 5 minutes and 10 minutes. Our baby scored 9 each time, which is great for a breech c-section baby. 

Yay baby! I turned my neck to the right to try and see. Wow! I have a baby. He’s finally here on the outside of me. It brought tears to my eyes as I took it all in. This incredible moment when I switched from being pregnant to being a mom. It was 1pm on the dot. This is the song that was playing.

 Awkward first family photo! 

To the Recovery Bay

Steve held our baby bundled up in blankets with a little hat on his head and brought him over to my face. It was still hard to see him because I was lying down and hooked up to machines. I was irritated that I couldn’t even see my baby for the first 10-15 minutes of his life (while they stitched me up) because I was in such an awkward position. Chris offered to take a family photo, but he was behind me, so I was awkwardly trying to figure out how to position my head to look at the camera. It’s a weird photo. 

Once they were finished stitching me up, Steve was shown out of the room to change back into his own clothes and meet me in the recovery bay. I was transferred from the operating table to the bed. The nurse unwrapped Max and placed him onto my chest under my robe, we then lay the blankets on top of both of us. They adjusted the bed so I could sit up, now I was getting a better view of him. 

My marvelous placenta! 

I hoped that making it black and white would make it easier for people to look at.

First tries at breastfeeding

I didn’t spend long in the recovery bay. Maybe 30 minutes, max. My blood pressure must have stabilised pretty well. Yay me. The nurse who had been in the operating room with us brought out my placenta. She showed it to me, explaining the different parts, showing the veins and artery of the umbilical cord. It was huge! I had considered keeping it, maybe make some artwork with it - like prints. Unfortunately, we forgot a container for it. Probably for the best though. I don't think I would have had the bandwidth to do anything with it those first few days.

During the time in recovery, the nurse tried to help me breastfeed. I remembered all the tricks from the breastfeeding class I’d attended a week earlier: you just wait until they open their mouth and with a simple movement bring them into the breast and voila they are attached and sucking. Unfortunately, it wasn’t really working for us. A lot of trying to latch on but not really getting the suction. The nurse told us that we’d try again once I was back on the postpartum ward. 

A midwife came to wheel us back through and said she’d help, but then said something about a shift change and letting the new staff know. I remember her bringing three new staff into my curtained cubicle and reading my notes to them. I mentioned that I needed help with breastfeeding and they said they’d be with me shortly. The wait was frustrating because I had no idea what to do. I was trying everything I could remember, but my baby was just swirling around, crying and flailing. My shoulders were tense from trying to hold him in the right position. My wrist hurt from the bent angle it was in trying to support his neck. He had a few moments of what seemed like success and then would be off again. 

Our first moments together

Teamwork makes the dreamwork

For the rest of the day, Steve tried to help as much as possible, providing pillows for support, suggestions, and holding our baby when I needed a break. He changed the baby every time, which was ideal because I couldn’t move my legs still! He also held him and soothed him when he cried from frustration and hunger. 

We decided to give our baby some of the colostrum I had hand expressed in the days before the birth. I recommend this to any pregnant person. Hand expressing is essentially a technique to milk your own breasts and get out some of the “liquid gold” that babies drink before your milk comes in. It can take a few days for milk supply to really get going, especially for c-section moms. The colostrum is packed full of nutrients that newborns need in those early days. I had about 10 ml in a few different syringes the hospital had given me at my last appointment. We fed it to him straight from the syringe with the midwife showing us how. That perked him up a bit and he was able to latch on for a feed for 30 minutes. That was around 5pm, which was 4 hours after his birth. 

We continued to struggle getting the latch right. I called the midwives multiple times asking for support. It seemed we had the technique mostly right, it just wasn’t working. Keep trying, they said. I texted my doulas a few times, but didn’t feel like I should call them because I didn’t know what I would say or ask or how they could really help. 

Naming the bebe

It wasn’t all terrible though. There were moments of bliss while our baby was sleeping soundly on my chest, or in Steve’s arms. In those moments we looked at him and discussed his name. Steve had liked the name Maximilian for months. It was the only one he really loved, none of my ideas ever seemed to pique his interest. 

I liked the name Max. I also really loved the name Remi. So we kept looking at him and thinking it over. We weren’t able to make a decision that day, we decided to sleep on it. We confused the midwives a lot because he didn’t have a name yet and we had dressed him in a onesie covered in ladybirds that said “daddy’s little lady”, because, smash the binary. It didn’t bother me when they referred to him as a girl, and sometimes I would just let them know he was a boy so they didn’t get a shock later, but other times I just let it go because it didn’t really matter. They have to label the baby something, so he was labelled Male Infant Moore. His medical notes, and any letters I’ve had from the hospital since still refer to him as Male Infant Moore. It’s kind of funny. 

Alone in the hospital

9pm was approaching, Steve would have to leave. It made me unbearably sad. How could they make him leave me? I have NO IDEA what I’m doing. Plus I hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet.

 I had to wait for the midwife to help with that and they just had so many people to look after on the ward. Steve didn’t want to leave us either, but unfortunately they just don’t have enough space for partners to stay.  

Once he left, they got me out of bed and I walked to the bathroom, it was a strange feeling but I was surprised that it wasn’t as painful as I expected. I still had the catheter in, and that wouldn’t come out until morning. I brushed my teeth and washed my face in the bathroom and put on my own nightgown. It felt refreshing and more comfortable. 

The first night was a big traumatic blur for me. Hours of trying to feed our baby, putting him down hoping he’ll sleep, only for him to stir and wake up crying not long after. I was struggling so bad. Across the room from me, a mother who I had overheard would be bottle feeding snored as her baby slept soundly. My baby screamed out and I felt bad for disturbing the other mums. I called on the midwives and they helped us get a few short latches. I think it was about 1am that he finally settled and I was able to close my eyes and sleep. 

In the morning, I woke up around 5:30 am for them to check my blood pressure and pulse. The midwife asked when he last fed, and I said it was before 1am. She told me that was a bit too long and I should wake him for a feed. I was nervous about it. There’s no way he will latch on and it will just start the torture all over again.

 I counted the minutes until 9am when Steve would be back. 

 My baby fed a few times and then slept on my chest. I looked down at him and was filled with an overwhelming sense of aww. Magic, I thought. He looks like Magic. He is magical. I wondered then if we could name him Magic. Was I more kooky than I thought? I texted my best friend Catherine, what did she think? “Uh… I don’t know”, she responded, keeping it neutral. Later, I pitched it to Steve, and he considered it. Maybe it would work as a middle name. When we finally saw the paediatrician, she picked him up and said “aren't you magic?!” At that point I looked at Steve with my eyes wide. It’s a sign! We have to name him Magic.

Ready to go home

We spent the day waiting for the various medical staff to see us and discharge us. Steve was anxious for us to leave that day because the Coronavirus pandemic was causing the hospital to restrict visiting hours even more. The following day, birth partners would only be allowed from 2pm to 6pm. Neither of us wanted that, and I certainly didn’t want to spend another lonely night in the hospital.

First I needed to pee enough without my catheter to make the midwives happy. Then we would see a paediatrician who would look over our baby for general health. Then we’d just have to wait for my medications to come from the pharmacy and our discharge chat, where they talk about how to take care of my scar and the baby. 

I was given needles full of a medicine that prevents blood clots, I would have to inject one in my stomach every day for the next 9 days. Luckily I’m fine with needles. And my mom was a nurse way back in the day, so I figured she could help me. (Side note, I ended up with many bruises!) 

Second awkward family photo!

It took until about 4:30pm for all of that to be done, when we were finally able to leave. During our long wait we called family and took lots of photos of our cute baby. We also discussed his name at length. Steve had me write down different name ideas repeatedly as a way to see which one felt right to me. I was pretty sure that it would be Max, but I was finding it hard to let go of other names I loved. In the end, I told him I can’t make the decision and I wanted him to. So he thought about it for a while, did some writing, and made a choice.  

We named him Max Miles Moore. 

His nickname is Magic. 

A sample of c-section songs

Kooks - David Bowie

Seabird - Alessi Brothers

Mr White - Khruangbin

Two Fish and an Elephant - Khruangbin

Mink & Shoes - Psychemagik, Navid Izadi

Alysha - Mehmet Aslan
Lluvia, John Montoya Remix - Mateo Kingman

The Things I Took to the Hospital

Packing a hospital bag is one of the main things to do in preparation for labour and delivery. But it's hard to know what you'll need. There are many suggestive lists online, and my sister-in-law sent me hers. So I had a lot of help. In the end, I packed way too much anyway!

(In bold: what I actually used)

Baby
6 x baby grows with feet - only 2 were used!
1 x white onesie, blue pants, side snap top 
2 x mittens
3 x socks
2 x hats - both were too big!
1 x blanket - we used this!
1 x muslin
1 x fleece bear suit for going home (too big, sadly)
1 x newborn swaddle
2x burp cloth and terry cloths

For Mimi
5 x high waisted underwear - 2 needed, clearly I didn’t realize how short the stay would be!
purple nightgown
white & grey pajamas
robe
slippers
face wipes
Toiletries (shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and toothpaste)
10 x Maternity pads
1 x black maternity leggings
2 x nursing tops
3 x bras 1 used!
4 x socks 1 pair
1 x hoodie
earplug earrings
eye mask
lavender oil
face refreshing spray 
Hairbrush and hair ties
nipple cream

Other
Speaker
Chargers for phones/speakers
Cell phones
Headphones
Sherlock Holmes book, pregnancy journal
Diaper bag