Welcome Baby Blake

Our little baby boy has arrived safely and this is his birth story. I will give you advanced warning that this is not a tale for the faint of heart, especially near the end. So if you must, just skip on ahead to the pictures. They don't tell it all, but they are probably what you came to see anyways. If you do endeavor to read the entire birth story, I will tell you, no holds barred. This is probably one of the most important events in my life and I want to remember as much of it as I can. Also, I am a writer used to using adjectives so you can bet this will get a little descriptive. Perhaps too much so for my little blog, but alas, I must do it and so it begins.

We checked in to the American Fork Hospital at 9 p.m. Halloween Night. I was not, and had not been feeling contractions at all up to this point. Fortunately, after a visit with the Doc Halloween morning, we had our induction date and were coming back that night. We spent the morning at the park, the afternoon at home, and the evening at my parents' house. I even went around to some of the neighbors houses to Trick-or-Treat and eat my traditional scone. It was a lovely way to start the birth of this baby boy. 

We began our visit to the hospital with an excellent RN, Kimmie. She said they were going to soften my cervix and I just needed to get comfortable and get some rest. Then she did all she could to help us get comfortable. Next she hooked me up to the monitors. I watched baby's heart beat in red. I watched my unfelt contractions in blue. Of course those jagged lines kept me up all night. That and the nurses came in several times to ask if I was feeling the regular contractions. I said no. They were surprised to hear it because the jagged blue hills were regular and fairly strong. So the nurse would fiddle with the computer a moment, and leave. I watched the monitors. 

Finally I zonked off sometime in the early morning and I slept until around 6 a.m. That is when I got up to use the bathroom. I confess, part of me was hesitant to unplug the wires hooked to me, but I had to do it. Then, just as I started walking to the restroom, I swear my water broke. It was nothing like the movies where suddenly, in the middle of the breakfast cereal aisle a women has the look of horror and then, "splash." Instead I just felt a trickle. At first I briefly considered it might just be me, super tired, full of water from the day before, and simply having to go. After some consideration though I could not believe it was an accident. I used the bathroom, cleaned up, moved to wash my hands, and again it happened; a little trickle. It was soooo not me! That is when I told Spence. That is when he called our moms. 

After that brief ray of excitement I tried to get back in to bed. I had to have Spence plug the monitors in because I had no clue where I pulled them from. Turned out it didn't matter because the monitors had jostled and were not reading anything properly. A nurse came in, fixed things up, started me on a low dose of Pitocin to make the contractions more productive, and I was back to watching my new favorite show. I told her about the assumed water breakage and she said they would test it. They did and they didn't seem convinced. They said it might have been my water, but they couldn't really be sure. I, on the other hand, was convinced it was my water. I wasn't convinced because I was embarrassed I might have wet my pants. I believed it because I wanted something to prove to me that we were making progress and baby was on his way. Even looking back I still believe that slight trickle was something important, even if it was only important to me. I needed that brief moment of excitement, hope, and relief. 

An hour later the Grandmas both showed up; magazines, diet Coke, and knitting/crocheting in hand. They weren't exactly bright eyed, but they were excited. I got a kiss on the forehead from my mom and a hug from Grandma Lala. It was a huge comfort to have them both there, these two women I love and revere. They had been through this. They were here to support, help, and love me through my turn. I was overwhelmed with a complete feeling of warmth and comfort they brought with them. 

Together we talked, laughed, and waited. The contractions were still regular, but I still wasn't feeling them. So around 8 a.m. Doc Willis came in and said we were going to get this show on the road. Nurse Annette  hooked me up to make the contractions stronger and more productive. Pitocin was my friend for a little while. I started feeling a slight back ache, then it got stronger and started pulsing. I loved knowing that whatever my friends in the hospital were doing, it was going to get baby boy here. I loved being able to feel it. Then, when "the pit" was cranked up to a six within the hour, I didn't love it so much. Suddenly and all at once the contractions felt like severe waves of hot pain crashing against my lower spine and radiating outward. They were hard, strong, and fast. Spence had to press and pinch at my lower back to help me manage them. This was at about 8:30 a.m.

The contractions quickly got stronger and I had to ask for an epidural an hour later. Little did I know at that time how grateful I would be for modern medicine. It was nice to have the pain dulled, but it was terrifying to see the baby's heart rate drop. A startled looking nurse, not my warm and funny Annette, came in. Her stiff and fidgety manner had me on edge almost immediately. She said the drop in heart rate was a concern and they were going to try and get baby back to normal. I didn't really know what it meant. The only thing I was getting from her expression and body language was a panic. That is not a good way to keep a delivering mother calm and reassured. Stiff n' Fidgety had to call back the anesthesiologist and together they both found ways to make me very nervous. They fiddled and fussed and watched the monitors. Annette returned when she finished helping her other patient, I was put on oxygen, and baby was looking good once more. Thank you Annette. I know that the other nurse and the tech did things to help the baby, but it was Annette who helped me regain calm and confidence. 

At first my new flight mask felt cumbersome and awkward. I was, I confess, almost embarrassed to wear it on my face. It was only Spence, my mom, and his mom in the room and I was still embarrassed. Then, after a while, I got used to it. Then, after more of a while, I didn't want to take it off. This was especially so when the Grandma's showed up with Thai food for lunch. It was rank. So I found solace in my lovely mask and small sips of water. I also had Sprite, pudding, and some juice for lunch. Those things didn't seem near as necessary as my hospital mug of water. Spence probably filled that thing up at least ten times. 

Little did I know at this point, noon, how truly long this thing was going to take. My thinking was, I had already been there about ten hours. Once the epidural was in I thought, Great, in the next  two to four hours I will deliver a baby. My poor naive intuitions. Obviously that was far from the case. It was still about six hours before I saw my Doctor again. He checked on me right before the epidural and again around 2 p.m. He said I was making progress, but my cervix still had a ways to go before I would be delivering this baby. Progress was slow and spread out across still more hours. 

Through those many hours I slept, tried to watch T.V., put my own right leg to sleep when I got too friendly with the epidural button, drank even more water, ate another pudding, and started talking to my flight mask. My precious. Ok, that last part was just a joke, but I thought about talking to my flight mask, so that might be just as bad. Also, I had completely forgotten about the epidural button at first. 

A few hours after I had been hooked up to the epidural the pain came back. At first it was just a small nagging and I didn't bother with it. Then it got stronger and more raging. Then it transformed into a dragon. I couldn't take it and told Spence I was hurting. He said to push the button. "What button?" He found it and handed it to me. "Oh! THAT button." I pushed it. I waited twenty minutes and still hurt. Push. Waited another twenty and there was still pain. Push. Finally it dulled, and then everything on my bottom half went numb. It freaked me out, I couldn't move my toes, and I was weary of that button from then on. To this day I still blame embarrassing bodily functions on numb bum. Darn that tempting little button!

The Doc checked in a couple of times. Nurse Annette was in and out regularly. Baby got tired a few times and stopped moving around so he got a little massage. I got tired and slept much of the time. Family came and went. Kels massaged my numb feet. I finally was able to tap my foot once more, yay! I got a lot of hugs, a lot of water, and a lot of attention. 

It took until about 7 p.m. for Doc Willis to come in permanently. My family was kicked out of the room. We were going to get this baby out! After an hour of pushing the boy was born. That hour passed in a blur. So much was going on. At first we watched the contractions on the monitor and I pushed when I was told. Spence held up my left bum leg and Nurse Erin held up the other. The only thing I could see of my doctor was a John Deer surgical bandanna, the same he wore when I was born. Then the contraction monitor stopped working and I was in charge of telling them when a contraction was coming. Luckily, from past experience with the happy button, I had laid off the epidural for a while and could feel the contractions just fine by this point. They weren't overwhelming, thank you epidural, but they were not numb or subtle either. They were hard and strong and painful. I could say it was exhilarating to feel them, but it would be a lie. At first it might have been, but after about forty five minutes it was just exhausting. I was tired, baby was tired, and doctor could see it. He knew we had to get this baby out. Unfortunately the baby was not cooperating. 

He had crowned, but he wasn't getting any further. Instead of my contractions and I pushing him out, he kept ducking his head. The doc tried several times to use his fingers to help baby's head out, but it simply wasn't working. Spence was burping Thai, the nurse thought Spence might keel over, I was trying to pretend I wasn't having a contraction so I could regroup, and baby was stuck. It was a bit of a mess for a while.

So doctor Willis finally told me that this was it. Just a few more pushes, a couple of contractions, and we would have a baby. That was just how it happened too. Across two contractions and eight hard and long pushes baby arrived. I pushed, I felt a couple of snips, I felt the stretch and release. Baby got tangled in the cord, but Dr. Willis was ready for it and snapped him out like a rubber band, and then I felt the full delivery happen in milliseconds. It was immediately followed by a flood, the rest of my water breaking and spreading all across the floor. All the pressure was gone, I could see little hands just above the sheet, and could hear the little cries. Pure delight and love flooded through me. Baby was here!

Spencer was such a great champion and, despite the burps and the nurses false alarm, I was so elated to have my Superman there with me. Baby was cleaned up while the doctor slid in a few stitches. He waited a beat, tugged on the cord, and it snapped. (This is where things might get a little too graphic, so if you are squeamish, just skip down to the pictures.) There was no placenta and the Doc undid his stitches and went in after it. The little devil had adhered to the uterine wall and he had to use his hand to dig it out. This part was very painful, almost more so than the contractions and delivery had been. Spence said it didn't look good. I can tell you, it didn't feel good. It was the most awful kind of stomach ache. Dr. Willis scratched and pulled while I grimaced. It was a bloody mess, literally. He removed all of it and then there were more stitches. I was split from stem to stern, but it didn't matter because I had baby boy in my arms by now. He had been weighed, measured, and his bright blonde hair fawned over by all the nurses.

My family came in for a quick visit and we were all smitten. Many of them had their phones out giving relatives the details. Linc walked in, walked away, walked back, and walked away again. He was so excited for this little man to arrive and I think when he saw him it pushed him over the top. Kels was rubbing my leg and smiling ear to ear. Dad cried, mom cried, Lala cried. I couldn't cry. I was too tired, too happy, and too overwhelmed to cry. That came as a surprise to me. I thought I would be a blubbering mess. I was just in awe! He was pink, he was small, he was alive, and he was perfection in the purest form I can experience in this life.

I was so grateful. Grateful for nurses and staff, for my doctor, and for modern medicine. I can't imagine going through all of that full throttle. The epidural was a huge blessing to get me through the long hours and I was still able to feel much of the delivery in the end, which is what I wanted. I was grateful for my moms, my family, and their immense support. I was grateful for baby boy and his perfect little body. He didn't look like an alien. He looked like our son. He was our son. 

Everyone cleared out. We moved downstairs. We slept while the nurses watched our brand new baby boy. What a dream. What an experience. I wouldn't trade it for the world. 

  

Date: 11/1/11

Time: 8:01 PM

Weight: 8 lbs. 1 oz.

Legnth: 19 in