The Birth Story of Luke Gaboriault: Part 4

When I arrived in the delivery room I looked at the clock above my head and it was 9:00 a.m.  There were three beds set up which were all empty and they put me on one in the far corner.  The nurse who would deliver my baby spoke pretty good English, and came in and began to talk me through some things.  I was having the most terrible time listening to her through each contraction, and now I was getting that strong urge to push.  They quickly got supplies ready and then told me go whenever I was ready.  They talked me through how I should push, which apparently is a lot different than I thought.  I kept getting told I was doing it wrong, which was a bit discouraging, but I knew they knew more than I did.  It bothered me a great deal that every time the nurse would refer to my ‘bottom’, she would use a word that I consider a curse word.  I knew with English being her second language, she had picked up this word somewhere and probably had no idea it could be offensive. 

The time I spent pushing went by in a huge blur.  There was this fantastic lady who came to wipe me down with a cold wet rag periodically.  She was my favorite!  Also the head nurse kept saying, “You’re a strong, good mommy!”  This helped to motivate me.  

Luke's hair- which did appear black and curly
            at first, but by his second day was light and straight.

After a few pushes I was told they could already see his head.  They giggled saying I must have a Thai baby because he had black hair!  This made me so excited.  The nurse ended up breaking my water, which upset me at first because it hurt, but was followed with quite a bit of relief.  That moment I really began to realize this was about to happen.  I just couldn’t believe it. 

It only took a few more pushes and his head came out, then one big push and Luke Anderson Gaboriault entered the world at 9:54 a.m., only about 7 hours from the time I said we needed to leave for the hospital.  He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  The Bible is absolutely true when it says a mother will forget the pains of childbirth when the child is delivered (John 16:21).  All I could focus on was him.  I knew by looking at him he was extremely tiny compared to other babies I had seen, and I was worried about him being so early.  I was prepared for them to whisk him away to the NICU, so I was totally shocked when the first thing they did was put him on my chest.  He was already crying strong cries, and immediately began to breastfeed.  He also took this time to welcome me to motherhood by peeing on me, twice.  His squirming little body was warm and perfect.  I could not take him in fast enough, but the image of him looking at me for the first time will be in my mind forever.

He only stayed with me a short time, and they took him to the corner of the room to be checked and weighed.  The nurse finished up everything with me while I focused my attention to that sweet crying boy in the corner.  A nurse announced Luke weighed 2,300 grams, or 5 pounds 1 ounce.  I never heard his length that day, but found out later he was 50 cm long, or 19 ½ inches.  He got a perfect 10 for his Apgar score, which is not really common for a premature baby.  He didn’t look premature, just tiny, and he wasn’t showing any signs of problems!

Next, they put him in an incubator and took him up to the NICU for monitoring.  They took me back out to the area where I labored, but all the beds were now full, so they put me in a hallway.  I was totally alone and I was fine with that.  I was overwhelmed with excitement at what had just happened and in shock at what my body was just able to do.  I spent this time replaying the events in my head, thinking about his little face, and praying prayers of thanks.  Soon though, I began to wonder why I was still alone and I was curious if they would give me some pain medicine now, if only Tylenol, since I think my adrenaline was beginning to wear off.  I began calling for someone, and by the time I got to an almost yell a nurse came to me and said, “One moment.”  She went back in the big room and then I heard the word ‘forgot’ and a conversation of someone getting in trouble for forgetting me. 

Luke holding Daddy's fingers.

They moved me back into the labor room, and still with no bed available, I was in the walkway between the beds.  This meant that my bed got knocked several times by people passing by, but it also meant I could get a nurse’s attention easily.  Then Jared showed up!  I teared up as I saw him and began to spill about how beautiful our baby boy was.  He said he knew because he saw him as they brought him out and was able to follow him into the NICU.  He had spent a little while alone with Luke before coming to see me.  Jared was so excited about his bright eyes and the way he held Jared’s fingers.  We talked and spent a long time dwelling in our excitement.  Jared helped me get a nurse’s attention so I could get that Tylenol, and then he went to see if we could possibly get a private room in the hospital.  We were sad to find out none were available, but this ended up being okay since the NICU was right next to the postpartum wing. 

I stayed in recovery until 2 p.m. because I was not still contracting like they wanted me to.  I ended up getting two doses of Pitocin and another shot of something else to help.  Eventually I was cleared to be moved to the regular room, and Jared was there as I was moved.  We passed by our friends who excitedly said they had been able to see Luke as he was wheeled by. 

The postpartum room.

The postpartum room was a huge room with about thirty beds, most of which were full of other new mommies.  It was actually a little neat to be around so many other women going through the same thing as you.  It took me a few days to even realize past my excitement just how awful the conditions were compared to what I was used to.  There was no air conditioning and we were in very close quarters.  There was no privacy except the curtains between the beds that they only closed if you were being examined.  There were four or five community toilets/showers that were not clean at all, and not even soap at the sinks.  I avoided the bathroom as much as possible.  It’s funny because afterward my mom said going to church camp all those years had prepared me for these conditions.  She was right; it was very similar, and that’s not a good thing for a hospital.  But as I said, I was too excited and I didn’t realize this until later.

Jared sat with me a little while and then our friends, the Vickers, came in to visit.  I began to cry as I told them how thankful I was to have them there.  As we were talking a nurse came walking in holding Luke!  We were able to hold him and show him off and take our first family picture.  I asked the nurse when Luke could come stay by my bed, like all the other mommies and babies in there.  She told me he couldn’t because of being premature he needed to be monitored.  This made me pretty sad, but she assured me she would bring him for visits and I could go visit him when I was able.  She was great about bringing him to visit every few hours and she helped me with learning to breastfeed.  I noticed they had put a feeding tube in his mouth, and she also explained that it was normal for early babies to not know how to eat yet, so they were going to need to teach him to eat.  Besides that, she said he was healthy and doing great.  I was sad when our visit was over, but I could see the door to his room from my bed, so this made things a little better knowing he was so close. 

Our first family picture.

 

From sitting in my bed, the view to the doorway into the NICU.

The nurse's station right next to my bed.

View from my bed. Notice the fan to keep me cool.

The community bathroom for all the postpartum mommies. 

The Birth Story of Luke Gaboriault: Part 3

The doctor came back after a few minutes and I began to ask details about the other hospital the baby would need to go to.  The doctor stopped me quickly and said, “I’m sorry, you’re too far along.  You won’t make it to that hospital and we won’t be able to transport the baby there fast enough after birth.”  Later, Jared told me he asked if we could even hire a helicopter to transport us down to the other hospital, and he was told no.

          The bad news from the doctor didn’t stop there.  He then informed us he had already called an ambulance and we would be transferred to the government hospital in town since they had a NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) that could better suit the baby’s needs.  This really made me freak out and have a complete melt down as I told Jared I would not have my baby there.  I will not go into the experiences we’ve heard about there, but I’ll just say this hospital is not known for having the same standards we are used to.

           Well, I had no choice.  My hospital, the one I knew would be safe and clean, was not going to let me have the baby there.  It was too risky for the baby.  I asked the emergency room doctor if where I was going was a good hospital.  I knew it wasn’t, but I was searching for anything positive about it.  She gave me a look, which meant “No, it isn’t a good hospital,” but then said, “Their labor and delivery and NICU are really good.”  This made me feel a little better.  Since she was so honest with her face, I trusted her words were honest, also.  So, we prepared to get in the ambulance to go to the other hospital.  I got dressed and since I had found it impossible to use the bedpan half an hour earlier, I used the bathroom, which I found was just as horribly difficult to do while in labor. In labor.  I finally accepted this reality about the time I was getting dressed to be put in the ambulance.  I was going to have this baby, and it was going to happen today.  When I accepted this, I began to feel a little calmer, and a little bit of excitement. 

Soon they put me on a bed and in the ambulance.  As soon as we went outside I said, “The sun’s up!”  I thought, “Wow; the sun is up starting a new day, the day I will have my baby.”  I had no idea how long we had been there at the hospital, but it was now about 6 a.m.  To me, it had really only felt like an hour had gone by at the most.  Everything and everyone were moving so fast.  My doctor walked with me all the way to the ambulance.  I could tell he was upset; there was nothing more he could do.  I could tell by the way he was acting that he felt guilty he had not stopped all this from happening like it did.  Even now, I really don’t blame him.  I think even if I had stayed on the medicine all along, everything still would have progressed in the same way.  God was in control.

The ambulance ride went very quickly.  I was thankful there was no traffic at 6 a.m. as there are no laws in Thailand saying cars must pull over for emergency vehicles.  I remember laughing a little, and saying to Jared, “Well this is fun!  My first ambulance ride!”  I was having a peace overcome me at this point, and I’d say it was God letting me know we were going to be ok. 

Udon Thani Hospital Entrance

This peace left me a little as I was wheeled in to the emergency room at the government hospital.  I was having a contraction and really couldn’t focus on everything going on around me.  I do remember however, that all eyes were on me.  It is not very common for a foreigner to be in the government hospital, and I was getting a lot of attention.  It was a great thing I am not a screamer during childbirth- that would have really made a scene.  I also remember the man in the bed next to me coughing terribly.  I thought, “Oh great, I come in to have a baby and leave with tuberculosis.”  Jared left me for just a minute to fill out some paperwork, and my stay in this wing only lasted about five minutes as I was obviously in labor, and they knew my progress from the other hospital.

Next, I was wheeled in to the labor and delivery ward.  They put me on a bed right next to the nurse’s desks, and got right to work monitoring me.  This was a room with about twenty other women, who were all pregnant, but none seemed to be in labor like I was.  Perhaps they were just there for monitoring or pregnancy complications.  By now, the contractions were hard enough I couldn’t talk through them and really didn’t want anyone talking to me through them, unless it was with encouraging words.  I was now 6 cm.  They decided to do an ultrasound to check the position of the baby and re-measure his size so they could be better prepared in the NICU for what was about to happen.  The two girls who did the ultrasound were driving me crazy.  They did things so slow and acted a little puzzled by the machine.  Later I learned they were what they call externs (similar to interns).

Outside of the women's/baby building.

I labored here for a while with Jared at my side holding my hand.  I really needed him there.  He was so much better at Thai than I was, and with all that was going on I could not remember the first Thai word.  This being the government hospital, not very many people spoke English, and those who did spoke very little.  So not only did I need him there for love and support, I needed him there to keep me up to speed on what was happening.

Jared spent a lot of this time on the phone with family and several friends in Thailand.  There was a couple from our church, Buck and Ladda, who volunteered to come be at the hospital to help if needed.  The wife is Thai, so we thought we would need her help for sure.  Another missionary family from about two hours away, the Vickers, also decided to come help.  Knowing they were coming to give us a support system meant so much to me.

A 'waiting room' in the labor & delivery building.
              This is an outside hallway, and that day was very hot.

After a bit, a nurse came and began telling Jared something I could tell I wasn’t going to like.  Sure enough, she told Jared it was not yet visiting hours so he would have to wait outside while I labored.  (In Thailand, if family was allowed in the rooms at all times, the whole village would be there.  They always come in big groups, so in a way I understand this policy.)  However, I only had Jared and I NEEDED him!  We tried to play the whole “we didn’t understand you, we don’t speak Thai” thing, but that wasn’t going to last long.

Then God sent us an angel!  The couple from our church showed up and when the wife came in speaking Thai, the whole atmosphere changed.  The nurses became so nice and seemed to go above and beyond for us.  It is interesting, I didn’t think we were being treated differently before, but now we were getting a much nicer treatment.  With these new guests distracting the nurses by talking about where they were from, etc. this allowed me a little more time to have Jared by my side.  Soon, however, the newness of them being there was over, and the nurse started mentioning again that Jared would need to wait outside.  I started begging them to let him stay, and asked our friend to please convince them for me.  The nurses really didn’t want to give in, and took this time to explain to me that Jared would definitely not be allowed in the delivery room.  This was a hospital policy that could not be broken, and we knew we couldn’t fight that one. 

We were able to delay Jared’s leaving just a little while longer.  During this time I really began to feel as if I wasn’t going to be able to do this.  The contractions had gotten so intense and I knew there was a possibility this could go on all day.  I began to ask about pain medicine and they told me no way.  I knew an epidural was not an option, they are no longer allowed in Thailand, but I had been told by my other doctor I could have other pain relief.  It was explained to me, however, with the baby being this small and early they would not allow me to have any medication as it could have bad side effects on him.  This made me pretty sad because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do this.  And then, just when I needed encouragement, the nurse said Jared had to go.  I started tearing up and panicking a little, and the nurse said, “Unless you want me to check you first.  Do you feel like you need to push?”  I really didn’t know what this would feel like, but I told her I had some pressure, so sure she could check before Jared left.  To our huge surprise, I was between 8 and 9 cm.  The nurse said, “Well now your husband has to leave because we are taking you to delivery to begin pushing!”  I don’t really remember feeling scared or worried at this point, mostly surprised that I had labored almost to a 10 all by myself (without medication)!  And it had gone so fast.  I honestly thought this part of labor was going to be much worse than it was. 

Hospital Parking

So they had me get in a wheelchair and wheeled me to the delivery room.  That day, from the time I arrived at the first hospital until the time I was finished delivering, I changed beds seven times.  Honestly this made my day so much harder and each time I had to move was very trying.  It is nearly impossible to get in and out of a bed to a wheelchair then back up while in labor, and obviously doctors don’t know that!

The Birth Story of Luke Gaboriault: Part 2

          At the beginning of week 33, I began having some back pain and showed some other signs of labor.  I had painless Braxton hicks contractions on and off, and didn’t really think I was in labor, but decided to get checked by the doctor anyway.  When I went in, they asked my symptoms and I said, “Some contractions.”  This sent the doctor and nurses into a little bit of a panic, and they immediately hooked me up to a monitor.  The doctor kept saying, “Just stay calm.”  I felt totally calm, just wanted to make sure the baby was alright.  To my surprise, the monitor showed I was having contractions every 2 minutes about 15 seconds long.  I was not feeling them, but the doctor noted they were apparently intense enough to get things started.  At this point though, I was not dilated at all.  So, the doctor gave me a medicine to stop the contractions and sent me home on bed rest.  He really didn’t specify on what activities I could or could not do, but after this point, with any activity I would get a contraction.  Painless yes, but ones that I knew would make me progress like he said.  So the first few days I tried to do simple things, such as go down the stairs and make a sandwich for lunch.  After about two days of this, I knew I had to stop.  The medicine was not quite strong enough to completely stop all the contractions I was getting.  This medicine had horrible side effects that made me feel much worse than before I was on it.  But, I kept getting reminded this was for the baby.  It was way too early for him to come. 

Getting Checked at 33 Weeks

          We did a week of bed rest.  When I’ve heard of women being on bed rest before, I’ve thought, “How great to spend hours watching movies, being catered to, and really getting to rest before the baby comes.”  However, when it was my turn, this was totally not my feelings.  I knew there was a possibility I would not leave my bed until the baby came, and I was so not prepared for him like I wanted to be.  I had so many preparations I wanted to have done before I went into labor, but this just would not happen.

          I also felt 100% guilty for all that I was putting Jared through.  He was doing everything.  Cooking, cleaning, shopping, on top of his normal ministry work and teaching during the week.  He worked so hard and never complained.  I could tell this was wearing him out quick.  If he had to leave during the day, he would set up enough meals and snacks for me in the bedroom and made sure I had enough entertainment to get me through the day.  I’ll be honest though, after about 3 days, there was not enough entertainment to keep me from wanting to get up and do something.

          On June 30, at 34 weeks, I went back to the doctor for him to check and see how things were going.  They did not see any contractions on the monitor and the baby still looked great.  I was feeling horrible, but these were due to medication side effects.  The doctor decided I could try to come off the medication and try light activity at this point, since I was still not dilated and everything seemed to have stopped.  So I went home, but I decided I would continue to take it very easy, especially since I wasn’t feeling like doing anything with the medication still in my system. 

Taken just 3 days before Luke was born.

          On July 1, I had a little bit of that back pain again that made me go to the doctor the first time, but I was determined not to go back on that horrible medicine so I didn’t move from my bed all day.  On July 2, I began having a few contractions with this back pain.  Jared had gone to teach that day and was going to run some errands after, but I texted him and asked him to just come get me after school so we could go back to see the doctor.  Something just didn’t seem right.  The contractions didn’t hurt before, and now they did.  So around 5 p.m., we saw the doctor.  He recorded only two contractions in 20 minutes, but insisted they were probably misreadings because they were so high in intensity.  I insisted I was feeling that intensity!  At this time I was still not dilated or progressed at all, so he made me take one of those dreadful pills in his office, and I was to continue taking them on a very strict schedule.  I was also not allowed to do anything until at least 37 weeks.  This is what he said our goal would be for keeping the baby inside.  My mind dreaded the thought of another 3 weeks on bed rest, but I knew I would have to do it for the safety of the baby. 

          That evening we went home, ate supper, watched a movie and I pretty much went to bed, all the while still having those contractions.  I was waiting for that medicine to kick in and stop them and I thought sleep would help.  Jared woke me up at 1 a.m. to take my next dose of the medicine.  After I took it, I tried going back to sleep but those contractions were getting a little more frequent and I was too uncomfortable to sleep.  I laid in bed looking at Facebook and with my eyes closed trying to sleep until about 3 a.m.  At this point the contractions and the pain in my back were so painful I needed to really concentrate my breathing through them.  I just knew something wasn’t right, so I woke Jared up and told him we needed to pack our bags and go to the hospital.  I had sort of begun the process of packing our bags a few weeks earlier, but I was nowhere near ready.  In my mind, I honestly assumed that night they were going to admit me and I would spend the next three weeks in the hospital waiting on the baby.  Before we left I also stopped to call my mom.  I’m glad I did.

          The drive to the hospital was interesting.  I think I had three contractions on the way, and was able to talk pretty normally between them.  Everything was a blur and hitting bumps during contractions hurt real bad.  I was really focusing on my breathing to try to get through them.  I can remember there were so many dogs lying in our road and Jared had to keep slowing down for them to move.  I had a very intense contraction just as we went over the railroad track just seconds away from the hospital.  I asked Jared to stop the car right after the railroad, since I thought I could get through it much better if we were sitting still.  He said, “I can see the hospital!” and just kept driving.  This was probably best.

          When we got to the hospital I knew I could walk in myself, so we just parked in regular parking and made our way in.  Right after I got in the door a contraction hit, and I had to stop and lean on the wall for support.  I told Jared to go on and get us checked in.  Later he told me that I was quite a funny sight leaning on the wall.  A man came running over with a wheelchair and I laughed, I didn’t want it or think I needed it, and I felt ridiculous riding in it.  I was not in labor!  We just needed to check on the baby and my doctor would help stop this. 

          We got all checked in and they hooked me up to monitors.  I was having contractions for sure and they were strong, but not regular. The emergency room doctor decided to check at 4 a.m.to see if I was dilated, and she said to our surprise I was 4 cm.  I panicked.  I could not have this baby yet.  Fear began to overtake me, but I still had hope they could stop the labor.  People could stay dilated for weeks before the baby, right?  That doctor called my doctor, which I was so excited about.  I really trusted him and I knew he could make things right.

          When my doctor arrived I remember apologizing for making him get out of bed in the middle of the night.  I assured him I wasn’t in labor, I just wanted to check things and see if they could help stop the contractions.  He decided to check my progress and at 5 a.m. I was 5 cm dilated.  He actually said a curse word when he realized my progress.  So I said, “Okay what can we do?”  And he said, “You have to have this baby today.”  I was so sad, and looked at Jared and started crying.  I knew there were many possible things that could go wrong with having a baby this early and all of these were playing through my mind.  I was so scared for my baby, and I was scared for myself.  I wasn’t ready to have this baby yet.  I was probably never going to be.

          The doctor left us alone a few minutes to process all of this, and Jared assured me by reminding me that our baby had been healthy for every checkup and showed no signs of any problems the entire pregnancy.  He had a better advantage at being born early than a sick baby.  This put my mind at ease a little, but my mind was going 100 mph and I really was panicking.  Then I remembered the doctor had said the baby would need to go to a special hospital if he was born early, a hospital about 2 hours south of us.  I knew this was sure to happen now, and I was already sad that I wasn’t going to be able to go with my baby.  I’d be stuck in this hospital recovering by myself, since of course Jared would go with the baby.  There were too many horrible things going through my head and I just couldn’t handle them at this time.

          Jared had been on the phone with our families on and off from the time we left the house until now, and I had gotten to talk with my mom a little bit now and then.  What I would have done to have her there with me now, to reassure me.  Throughout these hours, my mind drifted to that place of self-pity, where I was really sad my family wasn’t there with me through this.  I knew they were all sitting by the phone anxiously awaiting more news, but I wanted them there with me.  And little did I know things were about to get worse. 

The Birth Story of Luke Gaboriault: Part 1

Today, my baby boy is 3 months old. It's about time I start to share his birth story. I wrote this out in detail for three reasons: 1. So I can always remember even the littlest details; 2. So my family can know what all was going on between the frantic phone calls that day; 3. So I can share our experience of having a baby in Thailand.
So here is just the beginning, Part 1. I hope you enjoy! I'll try to post a new part each week. 

The birth story of Luke Anderson Gaboriault

Born July 3, 2014

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I would have a baby in Thailand.  Sure, maybe I’ve become used to the idea of living here (although some days it still doesn’t seem real) but to have a baby here, for real, only crossed my mind a few times.  When we discussed moving to Thailand, Jared and I discussed the possibility of starting and raising a family there.  At the time it seemed exciting, even though I secretly wished we’d be able to be home with family for such an event. 

          When I found out I was pregnant in November 2013, of course I was overwhelmed with excitement.  What a tremendous blessing, and I was so happy God chose me to be a mommy.  I knew from the start it was a boy, and really wasn’t surprised at our 16 and 20 week ultrasounds that confirmed that fact.  I also knew from very early that he would be born before his due date, although I was thinking only 2 weeks or so.  I mentioned this several times to Jared and my family, and most people replied with a laugh and reminded me most first babies are late.

          From the beginning of the pregnancy, when thinking of being alone in Thailand for the delivery, I would just cry.  Of course I’d have Jared with me, but I really dreaded the thought of not having my family with me.  Every time I would bring it up, Jared and I would discuss the pros and cons of staying here versus going home to have the baby, and we’d always go back to the conclusion that we should stay in Thailand.  I think this is the way God wanted it, and he gave me little bits of peace about the situation when I needed it.

          I had a great pregnancy overall.  I had no real morning sickness, just some nausea.  I did have to start really lessening my physical activity though, because as the hot season came on, it is so easy to dehydrate.  It was pretty smooth sailing until about week 32, when I had to stop teaching because the heat was too bad and the standing was making my feet swell too much.  Also making it up the 4 flights of stairs to the classroom was becoming a pretty big challenge.  This is about the time I became generally uncomfortable unless I was resting.

          At my 32 week appointment the doctor said everything looked great and answered several birth questions for me then.  He really wanted to wait to talk in detail about our questions though; he was going to wait until my 35 week appointment so everything would be fresh in our minds.