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A Covid-19 Birth Story

If you had asked me nine months ago, "What would be the craziest thing that you could possibly imagine to happen during your child’s birth?" I might have thought up some ridiculous scenarios such as a tornado, earthquake, or fire happening, but those obviously would just be crazy and basically non existent possibilties. In a fictional show called Grey's Anatomy, the hospital encounters ridiculous amounts of extreme realities such as shootings, security hackers, electrical explosions, helicopter crashes, bomb threats and more.

One thing that never crossed my mind; a worldwide pandemic.

Currently, no one seems to completely agree on the severity of Covid-19. Nothing about the virus makes sense. Many conspiracy theories, ideas and differing opinions circulate the internet.

I don't know the answers to all these questions, but I do know what it was like to deliver a baby in the midst of it.

April 21, 2020- Today’s the day! Baby day.

I was scheduled to be induced at 10am. I'd not yet experienced going into labour naturally since my son was also an induction. I loved the ability to prepare every last detail and go to sleep like a kid on Christmas Eve, knowing in the morning I got to have a baby! The entire house was spotless, everything perfect. I had spent months preparing for this day. I nested so much, especially the third trimester; like, crazy-lady level nesting. Every bin, drawer, and closet organized. Every towel and piece of laundry clean. Every dish put away. We had new comfortable furniture, new happy plants and cushy throw pillows. Now all we needed was the baby.

A nurse called the night before to inform us of a few new protocols before going to the hospital. As a precaution they will test every mother for Covid-19 and check the support persons temp. She told me to eat breakfast then asked if I had any questions. “Do I have to wear a mask the whole time?” I didn’t want that. She answered “No, just at first and only if you leave the room.” I felt relieved and ended the call.

When we arrived at the hospital, a nurse gowned in all kinds of PPE had me tested right away. I’m not going to lie, I thought the swab was horrendous! I was sad for everyone that had to get it done. As I sat there waiting and a small wave a fear hit me. What if I tested positive? Three weeks previous, I had lost my taste and smell, and my husband also had some mild symptoms a week before that. We quarantined and did everything the guidelines suggested to not spread the virus just in case. But we weren't sure, since he never got tested. Everyone thinks every cough and sniffle might be the virus. I quickly googled how long someone would remain positive if they did have it. Two days. Phew, that means I’d be well in the clear! I texted some friends to pray just in case, but I was optimistic and ready to go.

It was a lovely delivery room, large bright windows and a nice sofa and chair for Josh. We waited. They told us it typically takes two hours for the test results to come back. The nurses didn’t do much in that time. One nurse came in, fully garbed in the her suit of protection. She remarked how silly it all was. She mentioned that she would be highly upset if I was positive because then she would have to keep all the gear on the whole time. She laughed it off and said she knew that wasn’t the case. I laughed too.

Three hours went by. I was chatting away to my sisters, mother and grandma on Marco Polo. I told them it was taking forever to get the results.

Four hours passed. No one had checked on us, I was getting thirsty so I asked Josh to ask for some water. They had my belly bands all wrapped around me to monitor baby’s heart so I couldn’t really move around.

He left the room and shortly returned saying something weird was going on and that he saw about thirty people outside gathered around the phone on a big conference call or something. They told him that someone would get me the water sometime soon.

More time went by before my doctor and nurse finally came in fully garbed. My doctor said through her mask, face shield, protective goggles and cap, “The reason we are still wearing all of this is because you tested positive.”

I couldn’t have my momma there for the birth. I knew and accepted that. I couldn’t have my sister Hannah, my doula there. My sister and amazing birth photographer Ashley wasn’t allowed in. No visitors, Ben couldn’t meet his sister till we got home, No mani-pedi, no fresh spray tan. These were disappointments I was prepared for and had accepted. I was not mentally prepared for this.

I just stared at her. I looked at Josh, he had sunk into his seat. I felt tears well up but wasn’t ready to cry. I had too many questions.

Since I was being induced, I could just go home right? I was already a few cm dilated naturally and would likely be back in a few days. But the chances of testing negative in such a short time was basically zero. They suggested I just move forward to avoid starting this whole thing over again.

What did moving forward look like? We told her about suspecting possibly having it almost a month ago. They explained that meant it was possibly just leftover in my system. There had been some cases of people testing positive a month later. Currently I had zero symptoms, I felt amazing, perfect body temperature etc.

“Will you take my baby?” This was my biggest fear.

She said that the pediatrician, the CDC recommendations, the hospital and her opinion all differed. They could possibly let me nurse her and keep her in the room, she would just have to sleep 6 feet away. That was best case scenario. They would do a full blood work up then make the call later.

What else did it mean to test positive?

It meant Josh couldn’t leave the room for any reason. It meant I would need to get an epidural shortly after labor started. If the need for an emergency C-section arose and they had to Intubate me because I had not received an epidural yet, it would risk a lot of exposure to the surgeons and staff.

It meant I would have to wear a mask anytime anyone was in our room, even while delivering. It meant whatever nurse had to take care of me would have to follow extensive procedures to stay safe. Those were the biggest things.

I wanted to move forward and get out of there as soon as possible.

I couldn’t bring myself to Marco Polo my family, so I simply messaged them in our group chat.

“I tested positive.”

My family had suspected this because of the long wait and strange conference call. They also suspected that I was the hospitals first case of a maternity patient with Coronavirus. This was a thought that had not occurred to me. I was a bit scared to be the guinea pig. This meant protocol and procedures had not been established yet. The hospital had suggestions but they had to choose how to handle the situation personally.

Do they give the mom her baby? Do they move the patient to a recovery room after delivery or do they quarantine her to the delivery room? How will the patient's support person eat if he can’t leave? How do they dispose of the patient's food trays covered in germs? How to limit the amount of trips into the room for the nurse, how to limit the amount of people going into the room?

Room 319 became a red zone. Signs on the door told everyone outside that the room was not to be entered by anyone besides nurses and doctors.

The fact was that we were the “practice” patients, but this wasn't confirmed until later on by a different doctor.

We got a call from the hospital pediatrician. She asked many questions and made the decision that she would not quarantine my baby from me. They sent some information into the room about social distancing from baby and safe breastfeeding procedure. She said she was ok with me keeping her if I followed these procedures. I was so happy to hear this news.

My first nurse was a bit older, and I could tell she was anxious to have me as her patient. I felt bad. I told myself it wasn’t my fault. I was not irresponsible with the quarantine. We had not gone anywhere but grocery stores when we needed things. We sanitized the carts and practiced intense personal hygiene. I carried my own sanitizer and paper towels in a backpack (that I didn’t take off or place on any surface) to stores and sanitized things before putting them in my cart. I had no reason to feel guilty, but still it was hard not to.

My OBGYN ordered the Pitocin to be started! Yay finally, let's get this over with! Here we go!

I don’t think my nurse had the same idea. She didn’t place my IV nor did she start the Pitocin. It was strange, she just left it all there and didn’t come back for quite awhile. When she did come back everything she did was mind-blowing slow and drawn out. When she did “start the Pitocin” I felt nothing. I waited and waited for contractions to start but they never really did. Just an occasional tiny one here and there. She never turned on the monitor so I could watch “progression”. I kept asking for a yoga ball to sit on, even assuring her I wouldn’t bounce around to much but I had been in the bed for so long I wanted to sit somewhere else. I asked a fourth time, and she finally brought me a ball. Every single interaction with her was extremely confusing. I wondered if the hospital had wanted her to stall my labor? I couldn’t figure out why the process was taking so long. At this point I had sat in bed for 7 hours with no progression of any sort.

Right before the shift change, my nurse said she turned my Pitocin up (yay) then I never saw her again. At 8pm, a new nurse came in. It was a drastic change of pace. The difference was night and day. This nurse was extremely efficient, she took every precaution very seriously but I could tell she wasn’t playing around. She even saw the yoga ball and said “Great! I hope you have been able to bounce and move a lot.” Polar opposite of the previous nurse who had practically begged me not to use the ball. It was clear the hospital was not trying to stall my labour. I do believe the previous nurse was. I wasn’t upset at her, but I once again felt bad that she was fearful of me delivering on her shift.

The new nurse was such a relief. I had been confused and unsure of what on earth was going on until she arrived. Real contractions had finally begun to set in. She told me it was time to get the epidural so they could break my water and get baby out. I wasn’t very uncomfortable at this point but agreed. The OB-GYN checked me. I had not progressed at all (no surprise to me, I just started having contractions.)

Let me tell you, I was terrified to get the epidural. It was my least favorite part in my son's birth. To my dismay the anesthesiologist had to place the needle twice before it was successful! In the end it was not nearly as bad as I remembered. I was so happy to have it out of the way.

It was around 9pm at this point, and they broke my water. Things were finally moving!!

Now we waited. The epidural did great taking most of the pain, I felt some pain and pressure, especially in a “hot spot” which is essentially a random place where the epidural doesn’t have any effect. A small area where you can feel everything full force.

We “rested” and waited. I was not comfortable by any means, it was a rough few hours but exciting at the same time. I was so happy something was happening! My nurse came in at around 2am and checked me. I was now 6cm dilated.

She went to the washing station by the door going through multiple steps, disposing of all her protective gear, and then she left the room. I told Josh how everyone in my family goes from 6cm to 10cm extremely fast. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Less than ten min later, I felt the unmistakable change in pressure that meant it was time. I felt bad calling the nurse back in, but this was the only time I ever used the call button during my stay. It wasn’t an easy process for them to gear back up to come into my room.

She checked and was surprised to see I was 10cm and ready to push. She called for assistance to come in soon and because I was ready to push. My OB-GYN was delivering another baby at that moment. Another nurse entered and they asked me to hold my baby in.

Every part of me felt like I had to push, I was scared she was just going to come without me pushing at all. They assured me that it wouldn’t hurt the baby to not push.

“Will I be able to hold my baby?” I asked the nurses. I had been looking forward to the moment they placed my baby on my skin for so long! The immediate skin to skin with my son Benjamin was magical, it is one of my most precious memories.

The nurses looked at each other and said no, they said they were so sorry but they couldn’t let me hold her when she came out. They were going to bathe her right away and put her in the warmer for measurements, shots etc, then they would let me nurse her after.

This time I couldn’t hold back tears, I hate crying in front of people, at least all they could see was my eyes. It was all so different from what I’d imagined and hoped.

It didn’t make sense why I could nurse her but not hold her. Weren’t they the same?

The nurses tried to chat with me to distract me, they made me laugh at one point. She told me we could do some “practice” pushes, but they saw the baby was literally one push away and said “never mind. Nope. Nope. We aren’t going to do that. Never mind. Your baby is just sitting there.”

It was at least an hour before the doctor made it into the room.

Two pushes, at 3am, our baby came into the world.

To my relief and surprise they put my darling Evangeline on me! There were blankets and my gown between us but I was so happy to get to hold her for just a few moments before they took her.

It was a different mood. There was no smiling or cheering, I didn’t cry happy tears like I did with Ben. I was happy though, I was also scared and unsure of what was allowed....Was I allowed to try and hold her baby hand? I didn’t want to cross any line for fear they would take her or think I was being irresponsible.

It was sweet to watch Josh stay with her and talk to her. He stayed with baby till they gave her back to me to nurse. I was instructed to keep my mask on anytime I was holding her. Same went for Josh. This precaution seemed so pointless, but we complied.

I overheard the nurse on the phone asking about a special crib for baby. I asked her about it, she explained it was like a tented bed that I could see in but couldn’t touch her.

I just nursed my daughter and held her as close as I could, I was nervous they were going to take her at any moment. They let Josh hold her for awhile, and they didn’t take my baby. They left the room to get her bed.

Josh and I just took turns holding baby with our masks on and trying to take in every detail of our new baby daughter. Her eyes were light, she had a dimple chin. Dark hair and eyebrows. She was perfect. She was healthy, that was all that mattered.

The nurse came back with a normal baby bed. She asked if I wanted it on my left side or right. I stared for a second, surprised that it was a normal bed and that she was allowed to be right next to me. The nurse said it just didn’t make sense to try and go through with the recommendations they had been given. I’m so thankful she didn’t try to enforce all the restrictions!

We signed papers and whatever they wanted us to do for awhile. Normally they would be moving us to a recovery room by now, the only reason I cared was because of the differences in the beds. The recovery room bed is a lot bigger with better blankets etc. the delivery room beds aren’t meant to be slept in, they are half beds where the bottom rolls away when it’s time to deliver.

I knew the recovery rooms also had nice little swaddle sleep sacks for baby. I didn’t pack any even though I have several because I knew they provided them. They also have a Busken birthday cake, little hospital gift onesie for baby and souvenir mug in the other room. More importantly they had nice postpartum recovery kits and supplies for moms in those rooms.

I started to feel a bit sad that everything was so different from my first hospital experience. Small things started making me feel down. For example the fact that I couldn’t see anyone’s face this whole time, or that they often just knocked and left things at the door for us like water and food or the idea that so many people were afraid of us and our room. The fact that we weren’t able to swaddle baby in the warm sleep sack they normally had or have a nicer blanket because we would be contaminating them. These thoughts and others were a little sad to me. I wanted to get out of the hospital. I felt like a burden and nuisance to the staff. It wasn’t a labour and delivery nurses job to take care of a postpartum mother. This was different for them too.

I was so thankful to them for risking so much to deliver our baby. I was so impressed with my nurses efficiency and speed and couldn’t complain about them or anything they did. It was just strange. That’s the best way to describe it all. I’m sure many of my thoughts and feelings at that time were greatly magnified due to the fact we had not slept and I just birthed a human into the world.

At around 6am I thanked my nurse, she was excellent, her shift was ending soon. I could finally sleep.

The new nurse came in at 8am. She was technically a labor and delivery nurse but she had worked in postpartum previously. She was such a treasure. She was chipper and sweet, she acted as if everything was completely normal. She made us feel like humans. She buzzed around in the cumbersome protective gear as if it weren’t in the way at all. She wasn’t in a hurry to leave our room or dismiss our questions. She was a blessing to me. I felt my spirits lifting again.

We just rested that day. The hospital allowed Josh to order of the menu because he couldn’t leave. They have a great menu with tons of options and great food. We enjoyed just resting, eating and getting to know our new baby Eva. We kept our masks on when holding her even though no one was in the room. I still had an irrational fear that they would take her if we didn’t keep them on like they requested. I think the only time we had them off was extremely brief while taking a few fresh 48 pictures. I didn’t kiss my baby or smell her or hold her to my cheek or chest.

At 7pm there was another shift change. I was sad to say goodbye to the sweet nurse who had been so wonderful. She even sent me a card when I got home and said we were a joy to take care of. Such a kind soul.

The next 24 hours was bumpy. The nurse was great, but a lot of questions came along with testing. Baby needed all kinds of tests including one for Covid-19. Since this was all new for the hospital it seemed the information being given to us was different every hour.

Who would do her tests? Where? How? When etc. There wasn’t any sleep that night. I started becoming angry at the situation. Angry that my bed was so uncomfortable, angry that I didn’t have a swaddle for baby and that I don’t know how to swaddle. I kept YouTubing videos but just couldn’t figure it out. I was angry I had to be hooked up to a monitor the entire time. I wanted my baby to sleep and I wanted to sleep.

I knew in my heart I was so blessed and should just be happy my sweet Evangeline was ok and that my sweet Benjamin was being taken care of and happy with Grandma and Papa, but I still was upset and exhausted.

Morning came and we knew we got to go home that day! A few more tests and paperwork, a few more questions came up about how to get us out without contaminating anyone etc. The results for Josh and Eva's tests came back, they were both negative! At around 3pm we were discharged.

Eva and I were rolled down the hall, a lot of nurses seemed to stop what they were doing to see what the patients from 319 looked like. They said congratulations etc.

The moment we stepped into our home I became completely overwhelmed with thankfulness, joy and peace. I was so grateful it was over, we had our baby and we were home. I cried so hard, I finally smelled my baby and kissed her cheek. There was so much relief in being home. She finally felt like my baby. I didn’t feel cold or disconnected towards her at the hospital, but I didn’t feel the immediate gush of love and intense affection I did when I had Ben. It turns out it was just delayed.

Once we were home I began to feel the bonding and wonderful baby love so strongly.

Everything about our hospital stay was confusing and strange. We were told so many different things from so many doctors and nurses. The bottom line was that no one really knew much about the virus and every single person had a different opinion on it.

Looking back it all made for a very interesting experience. I look back at it and feel grateful. Grateful to God for giving us our beautiful baby and to so many family members and friends who prayed for us. I’m thankful for my husband who was absolutely outstanding and wonderful, to the hospital and staff that didn’t follow recommendations to take my baby. I felt thankful to them for risking exposure to deliver our baby and take care of us. I was so thankful for my virtual Marco Polo support team and doula. Thankful for our family here taking care of Ben. Thankful for church loved ones bringing us meals and gifts. My heart has been so full since coming home. We are truly blessed. As much as the stay at home ban was my worst nightmare at the beginning, it’s kind of a dream come true for a postpartum momma. I’m embracing this strange time and thanking God for any and all silver linings and rainbows in the clouds.

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