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What should have been a routine anatomy scan at 33 weeks for my son turned out to be a birth story.

On Friday, Nov 30th, 2018 I went to a dr.’s appointment and learned that my blood pressure was high. It was the 2nd time during the pregnancy that I was reporting at a high level. I think it was like 170/80…honestly since that day I have been looking at blood pressure levels that I’m surprised that all numbers don’t confuse me.

Anyway, the appointment (which was for my high-risk doctor- pre-pregnancy diabetic) my blood pressure was high and the doctor called my OB and it was decided that I should go to the Labor and Delivery Triage of my hospital. This wasn’t something I felt comfortable doing. The week before I spent the night in the same ER while they monitored my levels. I had to miss work and for reasons that I will explain in another post…I was not going to get paid for any days that I took off going forward. I did not want to miss more work if I could help it.

My husband and I decided to buy an OTC blood pressure cuff and monitor my levels throughout the weekend.

That lead to my levels still being high so I went to the ER on Sunday, December 2nd.

I went in thinking that I would sit in the ER, get some drugs and go home. I was well aware of the risk to the baby when having high blood pressure. My Mom had high blood pressure when she was carrying me.

But since my anatomy scan came back normal I thought ( and still do ) that the baby was ok.

The doctors felt otherwise.

I spent 24 hours on a magnesium drip. I had a catheter. I had “leg massage”  wraps to help prevent blood clots that were hooked up to my bed. Moving wasn’t happening.

I thought it was the worst 24 hours of my life…I was wrong.

After the 24 hour period was over my pressure was still high. The doctors (and there were at least 4 that came in and out of my hospital room) said they were going to induce me. I argued that. I kept thinking the baby wasn’t in danger.

As I sat and listened to the doctor explain how things would be a quiet calm came over me.

God has seen fit to guide you through this pregnancy. I told myself that I wasn’t going to I let my faith let go of my hand now.

Blindly I followed my faith, and told the doctor “Okay.” Maybe 30 minutes later they moved me to a delivery room and I was induced.

I had a balloon inserted into my cervix to help expand it. With the balloon came the catheter (never pleasant). For 5 hours I was “in labor”, slowly making progress. The pain wasn’t as horrible as I have heard stories. I mean it definitely hurt. Contractions felt like period cramps intensified. They lasted a few minutes and as I dilated the pain and length did grow.

One of the dr.’s decided at some point to break my water. I won’t go into the details of how that was done…I will say it was not pleasant. THEN the pain really started. I already had my epidural (it took two tries). I remember hitting the button for more epidural because you can control it and it was at that point just as the pain relief was flowing the dr. that broke my water came back and told me that the baby was budging. He would inch his head out a bit but then move back up the birth canal. His heart rate was dropping…so c-section it is!!!

In a flash, several people start rushing into the delivery room and everyone has a job of unhooking me so they can wheel me into the Operating Room.

Once in the Operating Room, MORE people came in. I swear I saw at least 8 people in scrubs. I was strapped to the table and the Anesthesiologist (I man I want to personally thank will my heart and soul) stood over me and told me over and over I was doing a good job when they cut into me and I yelled out in pain and that I could feel their hands. It was an Anesthesiologist that made sure I had heated blankets because I was so cold I was shaking. This man (I need to find out his name) stayed by my side, giving me encouraging words. My husband wasn’t allowed in till after they pulled my son out. So during the majority of the time, I was with this Anesthesiologist. Since I didn’t hear my cry it was the Anesthesiologist that told me my son was ok.

My husband came in and told me our son was born.


Asher Isaiah, born December 4th, 2018 at 3:15am

Remember when I said that when I have first admitted it was a horrible 24 hours. After Asher was born I went through the 2nd worst 24 hours.

When I woke up from the surgery I was in recovery for a good 40 to an hour, alone. In and out still groggy under the anesthesia.

When I got to my room the nurses wheeled in a newborn and for a few seconds, I thought ASHER!!!! But no, the baby belonged to my roommate.

My son was in NICU. A floor below me.

I was put under a 2nd magnesium drip, strapped to the bed, with a catheter. I wasn’t going anywhere. For 24 hours I had to be away from the child I carried and waited so long to see.

Thankfully my husband was able to go and see Asher. I didn’t show it to anyone but I was highly upset that I couldn’t see him first. I missed out on the “first skin to skin contact” The first person he saw wasn’t me.

As his Mom, I wanted those things.

Once I got released (i.e. catheter removed) and made sure I could walk. I went to see my son.


It’s hard to admit that as much as I wanted to be with my son I knew that I needed to get better. In order to do that I felt I needed to leave the hospital two days after I had major surgery.

The drawback of that was that I had to leave Asher at the hospital I felt didn’t take care of me. I had no choice I couldn’t discharge him as well. My faith told me that he would be taken care.

Asher’s stay in NICU was ONLY a week. All the nurses and doctors were amazed by Asher’s progress. I was just happy he wasn’t following in his Mom’s footsteps. I was a preemie, born around 30 weeks (similar situations as Asher) and I stayed in the hospital for 3 weeks.

They say that when women have a birth plan and 9 times out of 10 that plan goes out the window. I didn’t have a birth plan. I had my faith that when I held my son he would look at me and know exactly who I was.

Below is a picture of the end result of my blind faith.



Until next time,