Corbyn Scout’s Birth Story

I wasn’t sure I wanted to share this. It feels personal, with too much emotion behind it. But here we go - I’m sharing it anyway.

I suppose, to understand Corbyn’s birth story, you need to understand my other children’s birth stories. 

Harlee was born after an induction at 41 weeks. I went into my OB’s office to have her monitored because I felt a decrease in movement, and alas, she was born after a vain attempt at not having an epidural. It wasn’t until Declan’s birth that I realized there wasn’t supposed to be an entire team of doctors and nurses in the room at delivery - they weren’t sure how her condition was going to be since her heart rate kept dropping. It turned out, she was wrapped up in her cord, and after the doctor untangled her and placed her on my chest, she started rooting for my boob and started breastfeeding on her own. She was perfect. 

Declan, being born 14 months after Harlee was born, was induced at 39 weeks. I couldn’t WAIT to not be pregnant. The induction was a success and he was born quickly and comfortably at JMC with an epic epidural. 

This time around, I didn’t want an epidural. I didn’t want an induction. I didn’t want to be in a hospital with all the COVID protocol and induced fear. I didn’t even want to continue going to a regular OB office where they were pushing the v@ç and having to wear a mask and getting angry when I was asking questions about current hospital protocols and options for being mobile while birthing.

Asking around, I found an incredible practice and midwife (who also happened to take my insurance) and made the decision to switch over to the midwife, and have a home birth. 

During routine bloodwork, we discovered that Corbyn and I had what is called “anti big E” antibody. While I don’t fully understand blood chemistry, the way I’ve been explaining it is my blood has a little e, her blood had a big E, and my body was making antibodies against her big E, hence “anti big-E.” It can turn into my body trying to reject her, like an autoimmune response with my body trying to attack her and get rid of her. At birth, complications can be extremely low iron and jaundice, with all the issues that can arise with those. I had to quit researching at some point, because it wasn’t pretty.

We monitored her at a specialist’s office over the course of a few weeks, and her numbers looked good. If you’re curious like I was how they do it - during an ultrasound, they find some blood vessel and measure the flow rate through the vein (I think it was in her head), and that somehow correlates to a number on a graph that indicates how bad her iron levels currently are. Hers were perfect, so I didn’t have to undergo an emergency c-section early in pregnancy (thank God!!). 

Fast forward to around 37 weeks - I was dilated already, which didn’t happen with my first two. 

38 weeks through 41 weeks - no matter how many herbs I tried, how much castor oil I drank, or whatever natural induction methods I tried - this baby wouldn’t budge. She continued to be happy, moving around, and all healthy. 

41 weeks + 1 day I see the specialist again for the 41 week ultrasound. He was essentially pissed I was still pregnant, based on potential complications with jaundice and what that can imply, and he let my midwife know it was time for an eviction notice. Patrick and I went straight over to the birth center to work out a plan with her.

After quite the discussion around potential complications, how the birth center induces vs. how the hospital induces, and contingencies in case of emergency, we made the difficult decision to head over to Jupiter Medical Center that afternoon for them to break my water and have the baby! For me, the main factor for deciding to head to the hospital was if Corbyn needed medical care immediately, I didn’t want to end up at St. Mary’s (the closest hospital to the birth center and farther away from my house. At that point, a home birth was off the table.)

I wanted to make that choice now vs. being forced into a contingency plan in case of emergency. 

Through a JMC nurse friend who was there for both of my other children’s births, we got in touch with the hospitalist on call at JMC and put her in touch with my midwife. Everything felt right about the call to go into the hospital after we made these calls. 

Patrick and I got to the hospital around 1:30 pm, after having to go home to pack a hospital bag, had my mom relieve the babysitter, and figured out a plan for the kids for the next couple days. I met the hospitalist and felt another wave of relief - she was sweet, smart, and also excited to help me with the birth of my little girl.

Unfortunately, both the postpartum and birthing suites were full, so it was 6pm before we actually got into a birthing room. By 7:15, the doctor broke my water (which was the plan since I was already 4cm dilated). By 9:00/9:15, I told Patrick to call our doula because things were getting “uncomfortable” and I wanted help positioning.

For the last couple months of pregnancy, I was having severe pain in my pelvis. I describe it as my pelvis trying to “rip in two” (totally pleasant - not). While I did get chiropractic care for this issue, it offered some relief, yet the pain was ongoing, which plays into the delivery… 

By the time the doula got there, the contractions had gone up from about a 5 pain level to a 7 or 8, and Patrick was helping me through them. Because of the pain in my pelvis, I couldn’t move around much like I wanted to. The worst position was on my back, but of course, due to being pretty immobile from the pelvic pain, I ended up on my back because I physically couldn’t move into another position. 

It was also at that point I told them I wanted the nitrous / laughing gas, and while they were getting it ready, they were struggling with getting it hooked up properly so it made these awful high pitched squawking noises while I was trying to “breathe my baby down.” Ugh. Worst part.   

Between Tina, my amazing doula and friend and owner of BIRTHday Doulas, and Patrick, they kept reminding me to breathe, to relax my shoulders, to breathe my baby down, and worked peppermint onto the back of my neck and Deep Blue soothing muscle rub onto my lower back, which helped ease some of the insane pain I was experiencing. I am beyond grateful they were there - Tina with her steadfastness and knowledge of birth, Patrick with his strength and prayers and willingness to be there by my side. 

Finally, the nurses got the nitrous working, and it took me a minute to get used to the mouthpiece. I could only breathe through my mouth and not my nose, which was opposite of all the breathing exercises I had practiced for birth. After the initial panic, I was grateful to have the nitrous. Unfortunately, I had only about 15 seconds of “enjoying” it throughout the remainder of the birth process - Corbyn came quickly. The small amount of relief the nitrous provided was welcomed. 

I was definitely NOT quiet. And it hurt. A lot. Again, I was grateful for the nitrous because the mouthpiece muffled a lot of my groaning / screaming / moaning. 

I finally felt her head start to come out, and I somehow immediately relaxed. I knew it was almost over. I have no idea how long I was pushing for, or how many “pushes” got her out, but she was born by 10:40pm and placed on my chest. I was still overwhelmed by the experience, the intense pain, the noise of the hospital room, the doctor now sewing me up due to the tear because she came so quickly (and again, I couldn’t physically move from my back due to pelvic pain). 

But my baby was there. We had done it. 

I was hoping to get released by the next morning, but that was not the case. The pediatrician came around, studied her history, and started testing her for bilirubin levels. It was high. The second test 6 hours later was higher. 

Corbyn went under the lights for 24 hours, in our room. After having not slept and having just given birth without an epidural, we now had to help this baby through light therapy. She refused to lay there on her own, so we literally had to hover over her, with her little hands holding our fingers, and holding a paci in her mouth. For 24 hours (except while she was nursing or for some snuggles when her discomfort / dissatisfaction of being in the lights was too much for our hearts). It was a lot. Especially after having “planned” a home birth and “expecting” to be home for this entire experience. 

We ended up having to stay at the hospital two extra nights. She was born on Wednesday evening, was under the lights Thursday afternoon to Friday afternoon, and her levels were tested again Friday afternoon and Saturday morning. Her bilirubin levels by Friday and Saturday were great, but she was still yellow, so the pediatrician released us with the promise and a prescription to come back on Sunday to the ER to prick her heel another time and test her levels again. Sunday morning I brought her back, and her levels were fine, her yellow skin tint was gone. 

I love this photo - my ridiculous face of confusion (WHAT JUST HAPPENED and a side of laughing gas) and my amazing husband already falling in love with our daughter.

God had shown up again in our lives so we can experience His goodness, His grace, and His strength. 

Korban means “dedicated (or gift) to God” in Hebrew (obv I had to spell it Corbyn), and Scout is “first explorer”.

God has big plans for our Corbyn Scout - and I am so happy to be her mama. 

Harlee Faye and Declan so proud to be “big bro” and “big sister” - the first time they met her in the hospital!