You just Never Know: Birth Story

True story.

She walked in casually, nicely dressed and makeup - immaculate.



Random photo from an ad

 No heavy breathing, no stopping to have a contraction, nothing.  She smiled at me - and plopped her little suitcase on the floor by the bed.

"So what's going on?" I asked her as I welcomed her to the assessment room.

"I think I might have started labor" she replied.

"Are you having contractions?" Trying to get a take on what's happening.

"I think so." Still smiling.  " I kind of felt a little pressure and thought I would come in to get checked"

That little key word: Pressure.   She didn't look in any way distressed.  Didn't look like she was in labor - yet she felt "pressure".

I quickly put her on the monitor to do a short strip.   "Would you like me to check to see where you are at?" I asked.

"Why not? I am thinking it won't be long"  It wasn't her first.

The thing about mom's in labor, you never really know what you have.   I always believe the mom.  I listen to her.    That word "pressure" triggered something in my head - even though her behavior was nothing like that of most women in labor.  You just don't know.

I checked her.

"Wow - congratulations! You're fully dilated!"

She laughed.   " I thought so.  I was really quick the first time!"

Moral of the story:  Always listen to what the mother says.   Never discount anything she tells you - even if you think otherwise.  Although there are similarities generally speaking - there are always the exceptions.  Pay attention to the mom -  the monitor won't tell you the whole story in labor.  Let the mom be "Queen of the Room" and allow her to dictate what she wants and needs.  Every mother is unique in her needs and wishes - so listen to her!

You just never know.

A Midwife's Tale...... Unbelievable....



 On May 17 of this year,  I drove to my parent's place to look after my mom at home post op.  Having a B&B, they get all kinds of folks come knocking on their door from all over the world.   This is a story about one of their "visitors".

I always knew my Grandmother was an RN.   I had heard she had delivered some babies when they first moved to Canada....Alberta to be exact.  But until that day - up at my parents - I hadn't heard in detail  the stories of my Grandma as a Midwife in rural Alberta.  

 My cousin, who is also an R.N. - and Grandma's namesake -  was staying with me for a week.   She just left to go home a couple hours ago - back home to Texas.  I showed her this story - Our Grandma the Midwife -  and she was as amazed as myself - when I had first heard it.  


She just happens to have Grandma's old nursing pin from the 1920s.   I am hoping she sends me a photo of it.....because I have never seen it.   :)

Here is my blog entry for Monday, May 17, 2010:

Grandma R.N, or It's In the Genes.....

So I have arrived at my folks' house to help my mother around their place .....since she is only 2 weeks post operative Hip Replacement. My mother had an interesting story for me when I arrived.

My Grandparent's Engagement photo

I think I have already mentioned that my Grandparents immigrated to Canada from the Netherlands, my Grandmother following my Grandfather to this new Land of Opportunities by freighter (no planes) in May 1926. They were engaged in Holland and Grandma moved here two years after Grandpa - deciding to marry in their new country.

They visited the local courthouse to obtain their marriage license. Not understanding English, and not knowing the laws or customs, they didn't realize that not only were they handed their license, but the barrister threw in the marriage ceremony also (#1). Having not a clue that they were already wed, they made arrangements for an American Dutch minister to perform their marriage ceremony. They actually had two ceremonies at that time...one in Dutch in the Reformed Church(#2) and a second one at the Presbyterian church(#3).

A year and one baby later they discovered the marriage was invalid because the American minister was not allowed to legally marry anyone in Canada (and was fined $2!). Still not understanding that they actually were already married - in the courthouse, they arranged for another wedding....this time with a Canadian Minister(#4).

The local Dutch community and other assorted neighbors travelled from far and wide to congregate at the little shack G&G called home....no more than four walls put together by Grandpa - 2 by 4s and unfinished inside....but did they have a Wedding Celebration that apparently carried on until 4 am! (I was reading this from my Grandma's story that she handwritten herself in 1959) Three or Four Weddings. We all laughed about this years later- a family joke, but it accentuates the problems immigrants encounter adjusting to a new country and sets the scene for the story I am about to relate.

Back to present day.

Nine thirty this morning there was a knock on the door. Mom wondered.....who could be wanting to visit at this early hour? It still takes a good hour or so to get mobile in the morning with the still-mending hip ....so early morning visits are a little inconvenient, to say the least.

Strangers.

 An elderly man and his wife introduced themselves. He asked if he could come in and visit. My mother recognized the name and *thought* she might have met him 40 years ago when my Grandma and Grandpa brought them to visit when we owned the resort by the Lake. Anyone that was Dutch would be introduced around to the family. That was G&G's way.

This particular gentleman had an interesting story to tell. The story goes like this:

It was December 13, 1926 in Rural Alberta. A blizzard had blown in and most of the roads were impassible. Farms were widely spaced and the only method of transportation at that time was horse and buggy on the gravel and dirt - and now snowdrifted - roads, if you could even call them that. A harsh winter, forty below with the snow whipping around, visibility zero....made it difficult to go anywhere.

In this setting a Dutch woman goes into labor. the Doctor was sent for but the probability of him even finding the house never mind being able to get out of his own drive - was remote. The Doctor had to travel by horse buggy all the way from the next town (by the way, I have attempted, in the past, to go by horseback 5 miles to the "next town" from my place - and after one hour I gave up!) and eleven miles meant an all night trip. It was going to take hours and hours.

Someone at the laboring woman's house decides that the next best thing to the Doctor would be - a nurse! ....and since my newlywed grandparents lived next door (well, it was a little bit further than that - for creative license we will say "next door". Anyway - let's just say she lived a lot closer than the Doc - within walking distance) - and everyone knew she was an RN.  The local midwife had died, so by attrition, my Grandmother was expected to step into her shoes.   A family member was dispatched to fetch my Grandmother The Nurse (practising without a license, oh my!).

Grandma and Grandpa had only been married 7 months. There was no such thing as a reliable birth control method so Grandma had gotten pregnant right away. Not that they wanted to wait anyway since they were both in their 30s. She was 6 months along with her first baby when the knock came at their door to beg Grandma's Midwifery services.

I am pretty sure that even though Grandma had only worked in a psychiatric hospital in Holland, she must have taken some type of obstetrical training and had some sort of experience delivering a baby at some point. Nursing courses weren't quite as complicated back then. No such thing as care plans or a lot of classroom work. It was mostly practical training - or slave labor really. So, it makes sense that Grandma would have probably had a grasp on what having babies was all about.

Grandma-back row, second from left - Her Nursing Graduation picture

The labor must have been fairly easy ( easy as opposed to the difficult types I have seen- shoulder dystocia, malpresentations and the like - really - no birth is "easy" for the mother!) because the baby delivered at 4:30 am by a coal oil lamp held by one of the family -  before the MD got there at 8 am ( or perhaps the blizzard was worse than we thought).    Water boiled, cord tied, placenta delivered..... the baby was carefully dried off and placed in a box lined with blankets and set on the open oven door of the blazing wood stove - the only source of heat in the house. ***

At this point my Grandmother wrote in her diary:  "When the Dr came everything was in order mother and son the first baby were all well.  The Dr stayed for breakfast had nothing to do, but took just the same delivery money.   We slept at home and every morning I went to help mother and baby and made the meals and work inside the house washing etc.  I was there about 14 days...." (interesting to note that back then my grandmother complained about the same thing I did many years later - I did the delivery, the MD collected the money for showing up!)

Back to the elderly gentleman standing at my mother's door.

This gentleman who presented to my parent's house - was that very same baby. Eighty- four years ago - my Grandmother had delivered him - early that am in the middle of a wintry blizzard!!

My mother and father had a delightful visit with the couple before they wandered off down the road.

 Darn.

 I was sorry to have just missed him.....there were all kinds of questions I wanted to ask. And I will probably never get to meet him - The Man my Grandmother Delivered.



***(At this point of the story my mother giggles: "I wanted to comment to him that the baby went from one oven to another - but I didn't know how he would take that" )
Posted by A NURSE at 6:45 PM

Once again, thankful that the comments were saved for this blog posting:

4 comments:

newnurseinthehood said...
I don't have much to say other than- this story freaking rules.
May 18, 2010 6:20 AM

A NURSE said...
Hey thanks! I was so sad to find out I missed the guy. I love old people....maybe I hang around them too much but.....it sure is interesting........ :^S
May 18, 2010 9:10 AM

Rachedy said...
That is an awesome story!!
May 18, 2010 12:20 PM

VANISHING TWIN SYNDROME

Some days just don't go the way I want them to.

Sometimes I just want to retire.

Sometimes I wish I were younger, prettier, smarter, popular, or wealthier.

Sometimes life just sucks.

Then I meet someone who really has a reason to wish for different circumstances - and I change my mind and am grateful for what I do have.

It really does adjust one's perspective on life.

 Which reminds me of another remarkable story:
There was a really amazingly cool couple that were so in love.

He had a birth defect similar to the Aussie above and despite that, was very athletic. She was a brilliant and drop-dead gorgeous young woman. They serendipitously met while attending University. He never let the fact that he had a "disability" ever interfere with anything, including the pursuit of this beautiful woman.

He won her heart. He had no qualms about getting married and the ensuing accoutrements of domesticated life, but, when it came to children - that was a "whole nuther ball of wax". The Geneticists couldn't tell them for sure that his "birth defect" wasn't hereditary. There was no guarantee that his children wouldn't be perfect...but he figured - is there for any child?

So many questions.

He thought - what would have happened if his own parents thought twice about having him? And - how would his child react to him for making this decision? Better yet, how would he react to the child if he/she had a defect, knowing the difficult road this child would have - having been there himself? Would he want to relive that pain all over again through his own child..... ?

A decision was made to conceive. No matter the outcome - they would have and love this child.

An amniocentesis had been done to inform and prepare the parents of and for any defects, and subsequent ultrasounds to reassure the parents of the well-being of their little one. They had no qualms about accepting this baby - no matter what. In the course of tests it was discovered the child - a boy - did have what they determined to be a cleft lip- or a slight "cupid's bow" - not an insurmountable "problem" - one that would be easily corrected.

They were over the moon.

So, they prepared the baby's room painting everything in blue. They decorated with little baby boy things and little manly items and even monogrammed the chosen boy's name on EVERYTHING. This was going to be one special, much loved, little guy.

I happened to be the RN on when the couple came in - the wife in labor.

The Labor progressed very well and in that delivery room, the family circle almost complete - the much cherished babe was born.

They were expecting a cleft lip - but they weren't counting on the HUGE "birth defect" that materialized.

Everyone gasped.

They couldn't help themselves.

It was a total shock when the announcement was made.............


"It's a GIRL!!!!!"

What....... happened?

There is this little-known-thing that can occur in a pregnancy. It's called "The Vanishing Twin Syndrome". When the amnio was done, what they missed was the fact that there were actually twins - not just a singleton. During the amnio, only the fluid from the male amniotic sac was drawn. Because the doctors did not visualize the other twin, they didn't pull a sampling of fluid from the female twin. Then, for some unknown reason, the male fetus did not survive and was reabsorbed by either the twin, the placenta or the mother's body.

This phenomenon occurs more often than people think. It is suspected that 1 out of 8 people started out as a twin. Some estimates are even higher than that, but we will never find out, because some woman have VTS and never know it. Usually it is the male fetus that dies and the female that survives.

Because this couple's early amnio (15 to 16 wks) already determined the sex (an amnio is definitive when it comes to identifying sex) no one thought to look closely at the baby's sex organs during subsequent ultrasounds. They were less concerned about that "defect" - than any others that might appear.

I asked them if they were going to keep the boy's name anyway, since it was a name that could be interchangeable - female or male. They laughed. No - she would get her own name - and the room - another coat of paint!

What a positive experience...... and an amazing family. I often think of them, and pull out his published autobiography he signed and gave to me as a gift. "Thanks for all your help! We needed it!" - he wrote above his name.

Something tells me they didn't.


Meanwhile, that video of that Aussie that someone sent in my email was a great reminder of that wonderful family years ago ......and also that - Life is What you Make It.

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"In our daily lives, we must see that it is not happiness that makes us grateful, but the gratefulness that makes us happy." --Albert Clarke