Our Birth Story

I could not have imagined that it would take me 17 days to get this written down.


But here it is for everyone who has asked, wondered and just for my own record.

Sunday October 3rd
39 Weeks
After an intense day of high emotions for all of us we waved goodbye to the girls and Grandma Secor and headed out at 7:30 pm to the hospital for a scheduled induction - accompanied by my sweet friend and Doula Megan.

Right off I dressed in my gorgeous birthing attire and got hooked up and checked.  I was mostly disturbed that I didn't have a chance to ready my room with my focal object, bag of labor aids, and various baskets of necessities.  But, I put Matt to work.

So, we determined that my cervix was at 4-5 (see I knew something was going on!) so there was no point in doing the Cervadil as we had planned... so they put me on Pitocin at 1. The plan being to keep me there until 6am and then start turning it up every 30 minutes.

Contractions started quickly but were mild enough that I slept through them off and on.  During the night Max would fall off the monitors and when they would find him his vitals were unchanging - so they put me on oxygen and tried to wake him. They finally decided he was fine -just sleeping soundly, and let me be until 5:30.

Monday October 4th
When 5:30 came my sweet nurse Sara encouraged me to get some food while I still could - so I enjoyed a lovely breakfast of cornflakes and milk.  And then we turned up the heat....

At shift change my new nurses Rachel and Liz got me hooked up on the wireless monitors.  WAY COOL!  Matt, Megan and I began to walk the halls while the nurses monitored my contractions and the baby's stats from their nurses station.  I don't know what it was like for Matt and Megan - but it was a nice time with the 3 of us talking and walking.  I was in the "zone" - when Matt suggested that they get something to eat - I was like huh? food? I wasn't hungry, I was oblivious of time, I was just focused.

Matt took his chance to break for lunch.  While he was gone my contractions said STOP WALKING WALKING SUCKS so we headed back to the room and the birthing ball - it was a great tool except that it was so small - like sitting on a little tiny chair.  Thank goodness he got some refueling because by them time he got back they were hitting me hard.

We began to use every trick we knew, positions, tennis ball back rubs, ice on my back, ice on my head... Having both Matt and Megan was invaluable especially as the pain intensified.  I would hold onto Matt while Megan massaged my back, telling me the whole time that I was doing great, focus, breath, keep going, almost there, etc. etc.  Matt was strong.  Megan was relentless.  She stayed right there in my ear, not in my face, repeating herself softly but firmly.

When they began to kick my butt, we moved to the shower.  It was good but not good enough.  I tried the tub, but I felt trapped and stuck so out I got and then my water broke... (YEA! I really wanted it to go on it's own).  I screamed out several times MY WATER BROKE, MY WATER BROKE...  I think that was the beginning of me going crazy.

When I returned to my room minutes later it was not the same room... there were people everywhere, a warming bed, other carts and machines and things everywhere, the air was buzzing with all the activity.   I didn't realize that we were that close....

As I puddled the floor over and over again (remember I had excess fluid levels too) the contractions climbed on top of each other.  I was exhausted and my body begged to lay down somewhere.  Crazy erupted from me, Megan encouraged me to find my voice and make noise.  I didn't know that I would find myself able to express my pain like that.  She really helped me to find effective noises and vocalizations that helped.

My doctor arrived and when she checked me I was at 9 - but the baby was not engaged at all, still.  I was beyond being able to deal with the pain.  I could have lasted through delivery, BUT as I mentally processed how much progress was yet to be made to get him where he needed to be, I knew I was done.

I asked for - or rather screamed for - an epidural.  With Matt and Megan at my side I held onto whatever small amount of focus was left to make it through the wait... thankfully it was only a few minutes wait.  I hope she really was a kind and sweet lady - but, I will always remember the anesthesiologist as the kindest sweetest lady I had met in the hospital.  It went smooth and fast, and in minutes the pain was non-existent.  I was mostly sitting up in bed thinking, this is good, I don't even need to have a baby anymore, all is well, all is well.

Then doctor asked me if I remembered how to push. Sure I said. Then I blew out a huge puff of air.  Everyone kinda looked at me funny and I realized that they wanted me to PUSH, not blow air.

So we pushed for 30 minutes then determined he was not only NOT progressing, he was moving higher up into my rib cage.  For my own peace of mind we pushed for another 15 minutes while they made preparations for the C Section.

Again the room buzzed to life.  They got Matt dressed in his lovelies, got me drugged up even more, and we began the ride down the hall.

In the O.R. it was INSANELY FRIGIDLY FREEZING COLD.  I instantly began to shiver and chatter my teeth uncontrollably.  It was pretty scary being rolled back and forth as they moved me from my bed to the operating table.  Matt sat on a stool at my side, while people worked every where through out the room.  I think there were upwards of 15 people in the room, nurses, doctors all doing various things.  I'm not sure when the surgery actually started.  There was as much chit chat as there was medical conversation.

Eventually, they said "here he comes", and Matt stood up to watch.  They held baby up to see as they carried him to the warming table (that's the picture many of you have seen where he looks GIGANTIC).

He was born at 3:23 pm (unless you look at that same picture where the clock says 3:20).

I knew he wasn't right by the sound of his cry.  It was a weak bark like cry, not the strong familiar, sweet cry of a newborn.  Several minutes went by before they would even weigh him.  Eventually they announced that he was 11 lbs.  After he had some oxygen, they brought him to me for a kiss, we got a picture with Dad, and then they took him away.

He made an appearance in the newborn nursery where his blood sugar was found to be 18.  So he was quickly transfered to the Special Care Nursery and started on an IV drip of Glucose and a bottle of formula.

There was some speculation that some type of infection lead to the low blood sugar but 2 blood cultures revealed no infection.  So we spent 3 and 1/2 days in the NICU.  They gradually cut back the glucose and his blood sugar stabilized on its own.

Thursday morning when I waddled my sorry pain ridden self into the NICU - he wasn't there.  They said they had taken him to the regular nursery and would soon be bringing him to me.

I cried all the way back to my room.  Which wasn't very far, but at the only speed I could manage = REALLY REALLY SLOOOOW = it was a long cry.  I then tidied my room, did my hair and makeup, called people and began to pace.  You'd have thought it was a date.  It seemed to take forever.  Finally, they brought him to me.  Matt arrived shortly after and we began to try to figure out what to do with this sweet baby that had already been cared for by other people for the first few days of his life.

 Coming Home

Becoming More Alert

I guess no matter how you get there we felt what most new parents feel when they look at their new child... awe, wonder, love and very clueless.