Wolf's birth story, part 1

Dear Diary,

Wolf Austin Widder was born on September 9th. It was painful, far from perfect, and tested me more than I could have imagined. But against all odds (and fears), he is here. And this is the full story…

Wolf’s birth story didn’t begin when I went into labor. It started before, at 37 weeks.

I went in for a routine appointment, and my doctor suggested a growth ultrasound. I’ve always measured small, so I wasn’t worried, but I agreed to give them peace of mind. As expected, his size was right on track. What we didn’t expect was that the ultrasound showed Wolf had developed a minor heart arrhythmia.

90% of cases are benign and nothing to worry about. But when your first baby’s loss is unexplained, confidence that everything will “work out” doesn’t come easily (to the mom or medical staff.)

But fear is louder than logic sometimes. I had to keep reminding myself: Wolf isn’t Kennedy Claire. They have different stories.

I don’t want to get too deep into my thoughts on the medical system here, but it was incredibly frustrating to feel pressured to go into labor early for a “just because” induction. Maybe if my first baby hadn’t passed away, I would have felt more confident saying no. But instead, I felt completely helpless.

What if I was wrong?
What if something was going to happen?
What if this ended the same way?

For the next few weeks, we monitored Wolf closely, and he was perfect every time. By the week of my due date, I was already dilated to a 4 and about 75% effaced. At every appointment, we danced around the induction question. I know babies come when they’re ready, not necessarily when it’s convenient for everyone else.

We prayed constantly that I would go into labor naturally. I tried all the things, all while trying to stay calm which they say is the #1 thing 🫠 But when my due date arrived, I went to that appointment knowing deep down how hard it would be to stand against the pressure. It’s nearly impossible to defy a system built on fear when you’ve already lived out the worst one.

Turns out, it was impossible. At least for us.

On my due date, Wolf “failed” his BPP, the biophysical profile test they use to measure movement, tone, and breathing in utero. He didn’t practice breathe within the 30 minute window, which is completely normal for babies since they don’t need to practice all the time. Still, the MFM doctor came in, saying she had reserved the last bed in the hospital for me and that I needed to be induced that day.

That wasn’t part of my birth plan.

In hindsight, I can see both sides. I was terrified and gave in too quickly, ignoring my own intuition. Deep down, I knew Wolf was safe and would come when he was ready. Spoiler alert: contractions started later that afternoon.

But I also know now how afraid I was of being induced. It felt like I had handed over all of my power as a woman and as a mother. Suddenly, I was no longer listening to my body or my baby, but to fear, percentages, and their Western medicine way of thinking.

It felt as if fear was making every decision, and no matter what I chose, I couldn’t win.

Ultimately, we agreed to an induction. I was told they would only need to break my water since I was already so dilated, and that gave me a little hope. No medication, just a small intervention.

We got lunch, went home, and I cried the entire way.

This wasn’t the spontaneous birth I had prayed for. It was stressful, emotional, and confusing.

At home, I showered, packed my bag, and decided to go on one last walk. When I tell this part of the story, I usually gloss over what happened next because it still feels too wild to understand.

On our walk, I started having contractions. Over lunch, we had prayed that God would be stronger than the seed oils we were eating and that He would send me into labor before the induction. When I felt the first twinges, I couldn’t believe it. I stayed in denial the entire drive to the hospital until they hooked me up and said, “Wow, did you know you’re having consistent contractions?”

It felt too good to be true. And in a way, it was.

Once we got settled at the hospital, the midwife came in to check me. Good news: I was dilated to a five. Bad news: breaking my water wasn’t an option. Because I was already so dilated, none of the gentler induction methods were possible. The only option left was Pitocin to start active labor.

For some people, that’s not a big deal. If you’re planning an epidural, Pitocin isn’t scary, you won’t feel the contractions anyway. But if you’re hoping for an unmedicated birth, Pitocin feels like a very bad word. It means stronger contractions, no breaks between them, and being tethered to an IV for the entire birth. No walking, no movement, no freedom.

The organic, uncomplicated birth I had been praying for slipped right through my fingers.

I felt so angry.

My first baby died for reasons we’ll never know, and now my dream of a redemptive, peaceful labor was crumbling before my eyes. I didn’t know a single person not in my life, (or even on Reddit) who had gone through a Pitocin induction without an epidural.

Could I do it? Could I hold on to the last shred of what I believed was best for me and my baby? Should we just go home and wait, since my body clearly seemed to be doing this on its own?

We arrived at the hospital around 3 p.m. and didn’t start the induction until nearly 7:30 that evening. In those hours, we sat on the bed and cried. We called my mom a hundred times. We googled everything, prayed even harder, and went in circles until we finally landed on one decision:

Let’s do it. Let’s have this baby tonight.

(Spoiler: he wasn’t born that night.)

Chapter 2 will come soon! In the meantime, make sure you’re following along for daily Wolf pics here.

XOXO,

Karissa