The Obligatory Birth Story

I’ve been told that every mother has a birth story and it is a rite of passage to tell their birth story. I admit it, I’m not typically one to expound upon personal stories – I far prefer to expound on fictional stories and keep personal stories to the basic points, but for posterity’s sake…and so I can print it out and put it in my journal…I’ll tell the birth story. (Skip to the bottom if all you want is baby pictures!! That’s my personal recommendation.)

But, bottom line up front: I have a baby! Flynn Michael Meredith was born on July 18th, 2025 at 9:50 PM. He was 10 pounds 7 ounces, and 20.75 inches long! I tried for a vaginal birth, but ended up with a c-section, which we knew was a possibility going in because he was so big, even at only 39 weeks.

At the recommendation of my OBGYN, we scheduled an induction at 39 weeks because Flynn was already so big, and I went into the hospital on the evening of the 17th so they could soften my cervix in preparation. They came in every few hours to give me pills, and, come morning, they started the Pitocin and broke my water. I’m not going to lie, I have never even remotely pretended to be one of the people who only want natural childbirth – I told them I wanted pain relievers as soon as I felt anything, and they happily obliged, starting with IV-administered pain meds and moving to an epidural when I was dilated to 3, so I felt very little, but I trust them when they say that my contractions started almost immediately. Surprisingly fast for a first-timer, they said. It didn’t take too long – well – not as long I expected, anyway, to dilate to six, at which point, I began to feel enough pressure, despite the epidural, to be fairly uncomfortable. Four hours later, I was beginning to feel actual pain, but when the doctor checked, I was still only dilated to six.

She came to my side and, gentle, but straight-forward, informed me that both due to the failure to progress and the fact that the baby hadn’t dropped enough, she was afraid he might not actually be able to drop further and, having felt down there, she didn’t think it was possible for me to deliver vaginally. She recommended I move to a c-section but said if I wanted, I could try to labor a few more hours, and then move to an emergency c-section. Needless to say, we decided on the regular c-section so Daniel could be there.

Which ended up being a good thing, because within half an hour, both my and the baby’s temperature and heartrate picked up significantly and the doctor said we likely were moving toward infection (what does that mean, you ask? I don’t know. But apparently it isn’t good and we would have had to had an emergency c-section no matter what.).

At 9:50 PM, they pulled him out of my stomach and we heard his first cries. I admit it, I started crying. And waiting for them to sew me up afterwards so I could actually see him took FOREVER. I was so grateful that at least Daniel got to see him immediately. They had to cut the cord, but left if long enough that Daniel was able to cut the rest of it off. Then they sent Daniel and Flynn to an adjoining room where Danie was able to do skin to skin while they sewed me up. After what seemed like hours (but Daniel says was only like 20 minutes), they finished and I was wheeled into the next room and handed my baby. He was, as says every mother, beautiful – and very hungry. There were also actually marks on either side of his forehead where he had gotten stuck on my pelvic bone!

Unfortunately, due to his size, by the morning, they had determined he had blood sugar issues and had to be put partially on donor milk, so he had to get used to bottles almost immediately (at least that answered my quandary as to when to start him on bottles, since I already knew I wanted him to both breastfeed and take bottles). I was already having issues trying to get him to latch, which I realize is typical for for learning to breastfeed anyway, but even when Daniel fed him the bottle, it was like pulling teeth to get him to finish even 7 mL in an hour. He was fairly fussy at night, and on the second night, I admit we even had them bring him to the nursery for a few hours (which the night nurse seemed rather judgmental about) so we could get some sleep, asking them to bring him back when it was time to feed him. Sunday morning, my pain from gas issues due to the surgery had skyrocketed enough that I was given medication to help, which then made me sick enough that I couldn’t function, so the day nurse (Beth – she was the best and not at all judgmental) took Flynn back to the nursery to be cared for because I couldn’t do anything. About five hours later, when I was semi-functional again, they brought him back, along with the news that the nurses in the nursery had discovered that they also were having trouble feeding him, so apparently it actually wasn’t just us. Suddenly we had all the help we needed in the form of multiple lactation consultants, a speech therapist (who knew, right?), the pediatrician stopping by multiple times, and even a new type of bottle, which he actually took without an issue.

They decided, after many examinations, that he didn’t have a tongue tie – just tongue tension, coordination issues, and a high palate, all of which combined to make it hard to get him to latch either for nursing or the bottle. If there was one really good thing about the c-section, it was that I was in the hospital long enough for them to not only figure this out, but also for so many experts to help me with latching and give us advice on how to feed our baby when we took him home. Had I given birth normally, I would have been sent home within 12-24 hours, and we would have had to figure all of it out on our own.

But, by God’s grace, we didn’t, and while, obviously, there has been a lot of adjustment and things to figure out without the doctors, I am grateful for the expertise to which we had access, and now, without further ado, I present the real reason we are all here: PICTURES!