In a nutshell, Isaac's birth did not go as planned.
I'm scared of blood and needles, and no matter how much I prayed, educated myself, and psyched myself up, I've panicked both times I've been in labor.
Labor with Isaac was intense. I screamed almost from the time it started. My labor was enhanced with three levels of pitocin, and to my disappointment, the anesthesiologist could not get an epidural to work--instead she hit a nerve in my back that hurt very badly and left me with a tingling leg.
I was in labor for 23 hours. I'm not talking about slight labor. I'm talking about screaming and thrashing around labor. All I can say is that I tried. I had the impression from the beginning that something was wrong. Nothing about my labor was normal, and I didn't understand why the doctors or nurses didn't seem concerned.
I remember the last 15 minutes of labor well. I felt like I was pushing against a brick wall. I gave up. I wouldn't push anymore. I just wanted to die. I almost asked the nurses to kill me, but I knew they wouldn't and I should just save myself from looking more ridiculous than I already did. I remember them yelling at me because I wasn't pushing, and I remember my poor husband's stressed face. I remember thinking that I had to get them to shut up some how, so I decided to fake a push. Funny thing was, when I faked it, something happened.
I remember the air in the room seemed to change. It was thick and seemed to be hazey. Here is where some of you will think I am crazy and some of you will understand. I literally felt something pushing on my stomach FOR ME. I wasn't doing a thing. Something took over for me. I was shocked and in total awe. The pushing was much stronger and faster than anything I could have done, and what more, I could feel the baby moving OUT while this was going on. The nurses started screaming, "You're doing it! You're doing it." I screamed back, "No, I'm not!!!!" Thinking it was a statement of discouragement, the nurse screamed back, "YES! YOU ARE! YOU ARE DOING IT!!!" Knowing that I could not explain at that time, I just kept pretending I was pushing. The head was delivered effortlessly. But, then it all seemed to stop.
I saw the doctor moving quickly for the vacuum suction and everyone moving around frantically. At that time, I didn't know anything was wrong yet, but apparently the doctors and nurses did. Isaac's shoulder was hung, and I could feel it. The doctor later explained that the next moments were extremely critical. They pulled him out of me in what seemed like a completely inhumane way. He was twisted like a cork stuck in a bottle as the doctor pulled up in the air. The pulling upward was not what I espected, and I could feel the hanging. I panicked and fought the doctor. I didn't mean to, but I did. Nurses were grabbing me and pulling me back while I shrieked over and over, "STOP, STOP, STOP!!!"
It didn't take long for me to collapse, and Isaac was pulled out of me. However, he was not breathing. He was blue/black. The nurses started scampering around, and one was yelling into the phone to send in a unit. It seemed like an eternity passed while I was there waiting for Isaac to breathe. I had come to the conclusion that he was dead, but they continued to work on him. Eventually, he started grunting and color came to his skin.
Although the room was rejoicing, I was still worried because he wasn't crying. The nurses and my husband were so excited that they forgot about me for several minutes. I watched my husband put on Isaac's first diaper, weigh him, take some pictures, and I just laid there too exhausted and traumatized to protest. Finally, my husband realized that I was getting left out. He brought me my beautiful son, Isaac, and I got to hold him and really look at him for the first time. I looked at his pink skin and noted that he felt squishy, like a hot water balloon. I was astonished. I've never felt so strongly in love. My first words were, "I didn't expect him to be so beautiful."
I share this story because it always haunts me. My mom has said on several occasions that a child cannot go that long without breathing and not have problems. Isaac's birth story may be part of the puzzle, and it may not. When I ask 'Why' when it comes to autism, I can't help from wonder if something went wrong at his birth. It's possible that I will never know the answer. I do know that Isaac seemed normal when we took him home. Well, normal in most ways. He seemed to be born with the apetite of a giant. He smiled and laughed early. He repeated words early. He made wonderful eye contact.
One exception: Isaac got hooked on a bottle nipple while I was trying to get my breast milk to come in (it took two weeks of pumping nonstop). When I tried to breast feed him, he would freak out. I remember being astonished at the way he would claw at me and his face in frustration. And, I also noted that it seemed like he did not enjoy the closeness of nursing. He seemed to cuddle with Daddy better than me. I always thought this was strange. But, other than that, it is the only thing I noticed.
Looking back at old videos, my husband and I both noticed that Isaac dazed out at the video camera light at about 7 months old. While he was in a daze, a puppet that made a frog noise startled him to the point that he jumped out of his skin and started crying. So, we have noticed unusual behavior from early on.
However, I beleive that this still DOES NOT eliminate the possibility of immunizations contributing to his autism, especially with the amount of shots infants are given in the first 6 months. I remember noting how forcefully he cried after his 4 month shots.
It seems that I have "evidence" to argue either way, and I'm sure I will be pondering those thoughts more in the future. I have so many question marks concerning autism and Isaac--especially about what may have triggered his two week period of regression in October 2009.
For now, I just want to tell the story of Isaac's birth--the day I came to know the fierce love of motherhood--a love that will compel a mother to do anything for her child.
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