It's taken a while for me to write this post, since we had a baby and moved to a new city just three weeks later. It's been crazy busy (and still is) but I want to write down Violet's birth story.
Towards the end of my pregnancy my doctor (who is amazing) suggested that we induce at the 39th week of pregnancy. Although I have my own reasons for thinking that waiting for natural labor is better, she had some good reasons as well. The main reason was that we could choose to induce on a day that she could be there. She could also inform the staff working that day that Violet has a birth defect that is solely orthopedic, and she is otherwise healthy, preventing any unnecessary freak outs about her legs. She told me to soul search about it and make the decision, and that's what I did. She had a few other reasons for wanting to induce, and all of her reasoning made sense to me. But at the same time, I felt like I was losing the birth experience that I'd hoped for, that was so important to me. I cried and grieved over that loss, but I wanted to do what I thought was best for both Violet and myself. And after all was said and done, I couldn't be more happy with the decision I made.
We scheduled the induction for Tuesday, August 26th at 9:00am. I was 39 weeks (full term). I was so incredibly nervous about all the interventions that I knew would come along with an induction. I knew that the pitocin would make my contractions stronger and longer, and I knew that I wanted to get an epidural this time, but this made me even more nervous. I mean the pain of childbirth was awful, but I'd never gotten a giant needle stuck in my back before, so it was nerve-wracking!
That day, Zach and I dropped Logan off with my friend Krisstina to watch him for the day, and we went on in to the hospital. We got lost at first, going to the wrong floor completely, then found our way to labor and delivery. We checked in and quickly got into our room. The afternoon before my doctor had checked me and stripped membranes, and I was only dilated to 1.5cm. But when the doctors checked me that morning I was already at 2.5cm (before even starting). They started my IV and broke my water (which was painful this time), and before I knew it I was having strong contractions. I guess they had started pitocin without telling me. So I got my epidural (which also hurt more than I'd expected) and settled down to play Phase 10 with Zach. At first the epidural didn't work on the left side, but after stronger medication and laying on my left side I felt a lot better. When my doctor got out of the surgery I was in I was already at 7cm.
A little later, Krisstina asked if we could FaceTime so that Logan could talk to Momma; he was missing me. As we were talking, I was having stronger and more painful contractions. I told her I had to go so I could ask the anesthesiologist to fix my epidural again. But my OB came in to check me again, and I was complete and they could see baby's head! They started to describe her hair color and said it was time to start pushing. I asked about the epidural but there was no fixing it at this point.
So I pushed once. They told me "STOP!" and started rushing around. Apparently little Violet was coming faster than we expected. They started rushing around getting their gloves and gowns on, calling nurses in to catch the baby, all while telling me not to sneeze. Zach was making me giggle and I was afraid that I was going to laugh the baby out! But they got situated, and after one more push, Violet was here.
I wish that they'd let me hold her, because they took her and started weighing her and doing footprints. It felt like forever before they let me hold her. But she was healthy, 7lbs. 6oz., good APGARs, and absolutely perfect. And when I say that, I don't mean she's perfect despite the fact that her legs are different. When I look at her, I truly see the perfection of God's creation. I really believe that He formed her perfectly the way He intended, and that her feet are not important to Him and should not be important to us. I look at her and I just see my perfect daughter, innocent and beautiful, and I couldn't be happier with her. I wouldn't trade her for anything. She's amazing.
I also want to mention that although the staff present was previously aware of her condition (we talked about it, so it wasn't an elephant in the room kind of situation), they were also great and treated her birth like the birth of any other baby. This meant so much to me. I wanted her birth to be joyful and that's exactly what it was. They told me how beautiful she was, how her coloring was perfect, and preserved the beauty of that moment. Zach and I will always have a beautiful memory of her birth because of them, and I'm so grateful for that. Now, if you don't see why I'm happy we induced, then you will in a minute.
We had a mostly pleasant stay in the hospital, enjoying those precious first days with our baby girl. The one time that was not pleasant was the next day when some nurse's assistants came to take her to the nursery. Now, we were told that she did not have to be taken except for her bath. She had already had her bath (Zach went with her) and we were told that all other tests and exams could be done bedside. She was a healthy baby, so this is what we expected. So when these people came to take my baby I questioned them and they said that the doctor needed to see her (could have come to the room) and that they couldn't do the hearing test in my room (not true). So I said I'd go with her, and I did. I watched through the nursery window as the doctor examined her, then she waved me in. Now, if you do five minutes of research on fibular hemimelia, one of the first things you find out is that there's no known cause. This pediatrician, however, acted like she knew it all, then proceeded to ask me five million questions about my drug habits during pregnancy and if I'd had studies done on me.
Let me explain why this upset me. My pregnancy with Violet (although joyful) was downright awful. I was in excruciating pain every single day. I had back pain that prevented me from bending over some days, and on other days I couldn't even get up. I had horrible heartburn that kept me up all night. I had awful, extremely painful hemorrhoids that hurt every time I stood (sorry TMI). I had huge varicose veins that went all down my leg and all over my vulva. These were the most painful because every time I stood up it felt like I was being stabbed in the leg and every time I went pee I felt like I was giving birth. But did I take pain medications like I was told? No. Did I take antacids? No. I didn't even take Tylenol because I had read that there was some study that it could cause behavioral problems in the child later in life. I know, it's all very paranoid of me. But I wanted to do this for my baby. My friends told me every single day to take something to relieve my pain but I refused. I'm not saying that taking medications during pregnancy is bad, but I just didn't. That was my choice and I know that I suffered an unreasonable amount for it. So for some ignorant pediatrician to ask me if I was taking drugs during my pregnancy was absolutely hurtful for me. Even though I don't blame myself for her condition, I will probably always feel inadequate as a mother because this happened to her while she was growing in my belly. So even though it was ignorant, it still hurt. Plus, she probably has crack babies coming into that hospital all the time, and do they have fibular hemimelia? NO!! Does she think that I'd been taking some all new drug that nobody has ever taken before? Just dumb. I can't even get over it a month later. Ignorant doctors need to be fired. I pushed Violet's crib back to my hospital room in tears and bawled my eyes out afterwards.
Okay I've gotten that out, now to move on. That experience made me realize that my joyful birth experience could have been completely different. Every staff member in my hospital room could have been that pediatrician. But my OB had them prepared and informed. I understand that most people have never heard of fibular hemimelia, but being informed before you talk about something makes a world of difference. Looking back, I wish that I'd said that to that pediatrician instead of just telling her that there's no known cause for fibular hemimelia. Oh well.
So we took our precious baby home and have been enjoying her for just over a month now. She is the perfect baby. She is doing so well and getting nice and chubby. She even smiles already and we love it.
Although we had that first month of "normal" before we started bringing her to the orthopedic surgeon, I was nervous and dreading that first appointment that whole time. I wanted everything to stay normal and joyful and not have to see any doctors.
We'd already guessed that the doctors would recommend amputation for her left foot. It's just a tiny little foot with two rays and no structure in the ankle or foot. We knew that she would never walk on it. But her right foot seemed good. Yes, it's extremely clubbed and only has three toes, but otherwise it looked like a good foot. So we were of course disappointed when we took her to Scottish Rite and they said that they would probably recommend amputation on both sides. The doctor said that the tendons in the right foot were too tight and would probably prevent it from being straightened out. He said that we would watch her grow, though, and sometimes things change and we're surprised by how things do change. The final decision will ultimately be up to us, though.
I'll do another blog post about the decision process. We'll go back in January to see him again so he can see how she's grown. But I'm pretty sure that we will go with what the doctors recommend. Basically, reconstruction may be an option, but who knows how many surgeries it will take, how much of her childhood will be spent in the hospital, and how effective it will be. We would be trying to "reconstruct" something that was never there. Her foot may never even function the way it should, and it will definitely never look normal (not that that's important in our decision). And anyone who's a parent will understand that the most awful thing in the whole world is seeing your child in pain. I don't know if I could go through surgery after surgery seeing her in pain. If it were a for sure good outcome, maybe. We have to decide what means we will take to get to an end that's not even definite. And we have to figure out what's best for her quality of life, including right now and the future. She can live a good life with prosthetics and her childhood wouldn't be any different from other children. There are a lot of things we'll take into consideration, though, and we will see multiple doctors and talk to families on each side of the decision before we make ours.
For now, we'll just love on our baby and enjoy watching her grow.
