Easton’s Birth Story

In all honesty, Easton’s birth story starts months ago.  Actually, it starts shortly after Kinsley’s birth when I began my journey seeking a vbac. I spent hours and hours in medical research journals doing what I do best, reading and researching.  I knew it was the safest and best choice for us to go for a vbac. I strongly believe that the good Lord designed our bodies perfectly to birth babies and if we as women are patient and trust in His design, the large majority of the time all will turn out perfectly. With that being said, I am indeed now the mom of two cesarean births. For Kinsley’s birth story go here: http://kinsleycantrell.com/everyone-has-their-own-story/

It was Friday, February 8th, and me and Kinsley had gotten out of the house to go to SAMS and Walmart. It was time to do my big two weeks worth of meals shopping trip.  When we got home and I got everything inside I put away all the groceries and got everything organized. Ryan got home shortly later while I was stocking our bathrooms full of toilet paper out of the huge box I had just gotten from SAMS.  We decided to move the extra mattress we had just been given out to the shed until we needed it when company came into town and so I stopped and we carried that out there and got it out of the way. While we were out there we went ahead and grabbed the infant car seat since we would be needing to install it in the car in the next week or so.

Ryan went into the bedroom to get out of his work clothes, Kinsley was playing in the infant car seat buckling and unbuckling it, and I carried on putting toilet paper away.  I had run out of room in the bathrooms and decided to put the rest away in the shelf above our broom and mop closet so I did what I’ve always done and moved the bar stool over there and began making trips up the stool to put the rest of it away.  I guess this is where a personality trait of mine that I hadn’t ever really viewed as a negative trait became negative. The whole “nothing slows me down, I can do everything on my own” personality trait came back to bite me. As I climbed up on top of the bar stool I immediately realized I was off balance and was about to fall. I tried to push off with my feet so I had a chance to get them underneath me because otherwise I was going straight down, but there was no way. I landed on my bottom/lower back and then my head hit. Ryan came running into the room because of the loud noise asking what in the world just happened and said “please tell me that didn’t just happen, I could have put that away.”  My head was spinning and so I told him to give me a second and then that’s when I felt the warmth just start running out. My immediate thought was “oh no, my water must have broken” but then I stuck my hand underneath me and it came out with blood on it. I immediately hopped up grabbed my purse and said “We need to go to the hospital now” and went and climbed in the car. Ryan grabbed Kinsley and his wallet and took her out there and put her in her seat and so at about 5:30pm we were on our way to the hospital.  Each time I felt a little gush I became more and more frantic. I called 911 as we were pulling out and asked her what we should do and she said we were fine driving ourselves and to go to the nearest hospital if it was more than a regular period. It was, but I wanted to be at our hospital with providers I knew and trusted if something was seriously wrong and since luckily there wasn’t traffic we did. (Our hospital isn’t much further at all than the nearest one) After I hung up with 911 I called my hospital and begged them to give my midwife and the on call OB a heads up and told them what had happened. I’m sure they probably get a lot of false alarms from worried moms and didn’t really seem too worried until I got there and they saw my blood soaked skirt and the little trail I was leaving.

The trip waiting to get to the hospital was awful. I just sat there feeling blood continuing to gush every so often and visualizing my placenta detaching and his oxygen supply being cut off.  You know, imagining the worst possible thing happening because that’s what frantic, hormonal, bleeding, pregnant moms do.  I wanted them to be able to take him immediately if it was necessary when we got there because I was expecting the absolute worst. I kept poking at him to make him move. He actually stayed pretty active on the way, which helped keep me sane.  We got to the hospital and we pulled in an area right by the Women’s center door, but missed the pull through so I hopped out and told Ryan I was going in while he parked and got Kinsley out. Thankfully there was a nurse about to go through the interior door that you had to be beeped through and she let me in. The nurse could see how frantic I was, and the blood that was dripping from me as I very quickly walked down the hall towards the front desk and tried to calm me. Thankfully they sent me right into the L&D room straight across from the desk and had me change into a gown. I don’t know why, but I kept apologizing for the blood I was leaving on the floor and that I left all over the bathroom trying to get the gown on. After I got changed and in the bed the bleeding  had slowed down a lot, but I didn’t feel the smallest bit better until they got his heart rate up on the monitor. It was a little lower than normal, but it was steady and looked good. Shortly later the sonogram guy showed up and started doing all his diagnostic stuff making sure baby looked alright and trying to see any issues with the placenta or where the blood could be coming from. I kept asking him questions, but apparently they aren’t allowed to disclose that information. It’s up to the doctor. While he was doing the sonogram my midwife showed up which made me start crying for the first time. Before this point it was just a pure frantic feeling for his safety, now I also felt that worry coupled with the realization that I had done something so stupid that threw myself into the hands of another surgery I’d have to recover from. I wanted so badly for her to be the one to deliver this little guy and had been so excited to have her in my corner, and then I ruined it all by doing something so stupid.

The sonogram guy couldn’t see what could be causing the bleeding on the sonogram, but because sometimes issues with the placenta can’t be seen until they are actually in there, the only option to ensure his safety was was to do a c-section and get him out before his heart rate had a chance to look bad. So a mere hour and a half after my fall I was being prepped for surgery. I was so thankful that this go around I was administered a spinal and at least didn’t get knocked out with general anesthesia like with Kinsley’s birth and thankful that Ryan actually got to be in the room to experience the birth too this time.

At 7:58pm Easton Ryan Cantrell was born weighing 7 lbs 1 oz and 20in long. The NICU team was in the room to check him out and make sure he was okay, and then he was brought over for me to see. His APGAR scores were perfect and he was deemed a healthy little man. Ryan took him to the recovery room while they finished up with me and then I was wheeled in to join them. They did his bath and everything in the recovery room and then they took us to our hospital room. It was a good 24hrs before I could go to sleep at all because I was on such an adrenaline high. Thankfully the recovery process was just as quick as it was with Kinsley and he is such an awesome baby so far.

When you have spent so much time preparing for and hoping for a birth to just be somewhat normal, it can be hard to accept it when it is beyond completely opposite of what you had dreamed of.  When you have spent months and months visualizing and dreaming of your perfect birth and in two hours worth of time its gone, you’re left in almost a state of unbelief that it was just stripped away so quickly and that you’re once again laying there recovering from major surgery.  However, there is something about holding that perfect little creature in your arms and knowing that the end goal was indeed to bring them into this world healthy that washes away some of that disappointment you feel. When you look at them and that overwhelming love rushes over you it puts it in perspective that the disappointment you feel about the birth will ease and go away, but had anything happened to them, you’d never have been able to rid yourself of that loss. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I just wasn’t meant to have a normal birth. Ha. I’m almost thankful that we are stopping at two children simply because of the fact that my births seem to get a little more ridiculous with each one. No telling what in the world would happen with the next birth knowing my luck.

At the end of the day when I look at this amazing life I have I feel nothing but blessed and happy. I have way more than I could ever ask for and so thankful that I am able to stay home and raise these precious little blessings I’ve been given.

Here are some pics of my handsome little man. So happy our family is complete and that I have another precious little newborn in my arms to snuggle with!