Amos is Here!

Amos is here!

Amos Whit Staton was born March 1st at 5:51 PM, weighing a whopping 8lbs 8oz. He came with a head full of dark hair, the perfect button nose, and squishy arm rolls.
The experience was expectantly quite different than my other births, but I will always treasure how this tiny fighter came into this world.

Jess was recently telling me women relish telling their birth stories because, in some ways, it makes their experiences come to life. Birth is surreal, and it does feel like you float to a different planet for a day or two, and coming back down to earth is a bit of a rattle until the details begin to unfold in the imagination. As a doula, I always encourage my clients to tell their stories, however traumatic or beautiful their experience was. I believe it can be a cathartic experience of healing. So here we go!

First off, primary emotion: weird. Monday night Tyler and I walked into Randalls Children’s Hospital for my 7:30 PM induction. My other two births, I walked through the hospital entrance in full-fledged labor moaning and groaning and not knowing if I was half-naked or not. I had just endured a taxi ride over the bridge, first the Brooklyn than the Queens into Manhattan, where there were lights, noise, and chaos all around and my yells of pain just faded into the background.

This time in Portland, Oregon, we settled into our state-of-the-art birthing suite, where we couldn’t hear a pin drop and had a view of evergreen trees in the distance. The doc came to check my cervix and dilation straight away to have a good induction plan. He reported that I was 1 cm dilated and would start with the foley balloon. I asked if they could do some miso (a cervical ripener instead), but I realized VERY early on they did not want ANY baby being born before 7 AM. I was not too fond of the idea of a foley and was SHOCKED I would need one with my third baby. I asked them to recheck me in a different position. I was convinced I was further along than they said, and sure enough, I was 3 CM instead of 1 just 5 minutes later.

No foley was placed (they only work until 3 or 4), and they decided to start me on ONE unit of Pitocin. Believe it or not, I knew this entire birth experience would be anything but natural, so I pushed for more pit, but they held off until the following day. I slept on and off through the night, watching my contractions start to ebb and flow. The next morning they broke my water ouchie. The pain from the amnihook was much more intense than I expected, so I asked to change positions, and boom boom, easy as pie. I was pleased and knew this would help my body kick into gear. My pain level was nil to none, but I could see a rhythm of ctx was beginning, and I was encouraged by that. I danced around the room a bit, letting my water out all over the floor as Jess (my sister-in-law) graciously followed me around with a chuck pad. It was clear that the two of us were very used to this kind of a mess and welcomed it with open arms. I continued to progress at a textbook pace throughout the day, not insanely fast, but not too slow. My pain level was still incredibly manageable, so much so it was almost weird. The next check, I was at a 5ish. As things progressed, I anxiously waited, trying to know the best time for an epidural. I had decided that I wanted to have as little pain as possible for my delivery with Amos. I knew that the moments after he was delivered would be milliseconds, and I wanted NOTHING clouding that time. I wasn’t in much pain, but I ordered the ep, and they got it to me right away.

Jess held my hand, and the anesthesiologist asked me to curl my back like a cooked shrimp. Minutes after, I felt like I had smoked 500 joints in the best and worst way. It was such a WEIRD sensation. I started watching my contractions as they intensified, and I wondered why in the heck did I not do this with Hank and Simon. I became nauseous, another strange encouraging sign that labor was on its way. I threw up everything I had in my stomach and felt lightyears better. My next check a few hours later, I was at an 8.5 or so.

I knew we were getting close, and my demeanor shifted. My emotions were bubbling inside my throat, and I felt an overwhelming sense of fear, sadness, anger, excitement, basically every emotion all in one. (Cue another great sign of labor progressing). Deep in my gut, I knew this was my last hurdle before becoming fully dilated. I had no choice other than to let it out. I began to sniffle, then cry, then weep. “I know that if I birth Amos, I can’t protect him anymore,” I said. The pain of that felt overwhelming to me. These were the last moments he was safe and whole, and he was about to enter the land of unknowns where he would be poked and prodded, and it would never be the same. I had carried him all of these months. Months of grief and tears and sadness, but assurance that we had time until we had to face the hard part. Tyler and Jess stayed quiet and gave me the space to let it all out. Tyler prayed the psalms over me, and we listened to Hope on the Horizon. I asked for the doc to come in because I knew I was ready.
Sure enough, they gave me the last check, and I was fully.
I pushed in complete silence with a room bright as can be with a million doctors around the foot of the bed and even spilling into the hallway. They were respectful and kind, but I kept thinking, omg, there are so many shoes in this room, haha. After 12 minutes of excruciating pain, Amos came into the world crying a roar and was placed on my chest. I felt overwhelmed with gratitude and sadness knowing I got to feel his skin on mine, and also, they were also about to take him away. My doctor said it was time. Before I could blink my eyes, Tyler, Amos, and the doctors were entirely out of eyeshot.
Jess never left my side and was with me those moments after, which made me feel less alone. I had no adrenaline, probably because there was no bassinet next to me or a baby on my chest. The doctor sewed me up.
Minutes later, we heard from the cath lab where Amos had his first echo, and his aortic coercion and DTGA diagnosis were confirmed. Shoot-he was not healed in the womb. He headed to his first surgery/procedure, where they placed a balloon in his chest to keep him alive until his switch operation. I didn’t see him again until 3:00 AM.