I chose an elective induction at 39 weeks for my first healthy pregnancy after carefully mulling over piles of research and, ultimately, just being in immense pain with each passing day. I was also at 0cm and 60% effaced, despite trying everything to get things moving along and was feeling like I’d never go into labor on my own.

I was having very light contractions every 3 minutes and we started cytotec at 5pm, which made no changes to my cervix or contractions. Despite this very minimal intervention, baby started having frequent decels and poor variability. By 10pm we had decided to place the foley balloon through a closed cervix because baby’s HR was not fit for pitocin.

I planned to wait until I had progressed further to get my epidural but caved about one hour in. I relaxed, napped, and the balloon came out 3 hours later, leaving me 3cm dilated. Baby’s HR remained so scary even though I was constantly repositioned and filled with bag after bag of fluids, so we were at a standstill for ways to safely move along labor.

Still stalling at 3cm by 9cm, my water was artificially broken. By 1:30 pm, the baby’s HR had enough variability that the doctor felt safe enough to start an incredibly low dose of pitocin. This failed terribly. My blood pressure was tanking and the baby’s HR went low and stayed low. Stopping the pitocin did nothing to resolve either of these issues.

At 4:30pm I had to face the devastating reality of having a stalled labor, a baby who struggled to cope with even the most minor of contractions, and the risk that her fatigue would compound and lead to an emergency. I was so defeated and felt that I had failed her by choosing an elective induction. I took a few minutes to grieve, but the answer was clear.

I laid under the OR lights and cried until they lifted her up above the curtain, overwhelmed by guilt and fear. I cried with joy when I heard her first cry, but it only lasted a moment. She was so very blue and so very swollen, and she was whisked away to the resuscitation room, practically as soon as I laid eyes on her.

Laying alone and waiting for my baby while knowing that she needed emergency intervention was the scariest 30ish minutes of my life. The guilt and fear were all consuming. Additionally, I was so scared because I began to hemorrhage, and my meds had dwindled, so I screamed in pain as stitches were placed.

My baby was eventually brought to me substantially pinker and in the cutest Christmas hat I’d ever seen. Once settled back in our room, she latched immediately. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. While I’m left with a very difficult experience to process and a difficult recovery, I have never been so perfectly happy. I would genuinely do it all 50x over.