Graham's Birth Story

*Standard Birth Story Warning Applies (you know - too long, too detailed, and well, a birth story)*

I left off our saga on Monday evening - I'd had maddening contractions all day.  Maddening because they would start to get regular and harder, but then peter out.  As the time got closer for my mom to leave my stress level increased proportionally.  Questions and concerns filled my mind: Should I go to the hospital even though I knew I wasn't in "real" labor?  Who would watch my kids once Mom left?  What if my water broke when I was home alone with the kids - would I have time to call someone to come over to watch them and still get to the hospital in time? ... Aaauugghhh!

I sent Mark and Mom to bed early, knowing that - one way or another - they would be up early too.  They set their alarms for 3 am, to have time to get to the airport by 4 am.  I stayed downstairs trying to figure out solutions to my concerns while simultaneously trying to determine if my contractions were getting more regular or if it was just wishful thinking.  Around 10 pm my contractions stopped entirely, and I fell asleep on the couch.

Around 11:15 pm, I woke to Thane's screams.  It's not atypical for him to wake up crying, but by the time I made it up the stairs to him my mom was already in his room trying to calm him, which only sent him into hysterics.  He went quickly back to sleep once I talked to him for a minute, but sleep was not quick in returning for me.  The contractions returned and as I lay in bed fretting, I made the decision, "We're going to the hospital!"  And finally felt some peace about our course of action.

I called a new friend from our new ward, Tammy, who had offered to come over should we need her.  She has seven children, the youngest of which is Aubree's age.  I felt terrible calling her, because Tuesday morning was the first day of school and if she was watching my kids, that meant she would miss seeing her own kids off.  But she was so kind and willing and showed up around 1 am.  My hope was that we would get to the hospital, they would break my water, labor would progress quickly from there, and Mark could be home in time for Tammy to get back to her family before they left for school.

The worst part of my decision to go to the hospital, was that it was too risky to take my mom with us to the hospital.  She needed to make her flight to get back to work and family, and we had no idea how long it would take to have Graham.  So, before heading to the hospital, we dropped Mom off at the airport.  She joked, "He'll probably be born when I get to San Francisco."

While traveling in the car, my contractions finally became regular - about 4-5 minutes apart and semi-hard.  Of course, once we got to the hospital they all but stopped.  We checked into the triage room around 2 am, and they hooked me up to the monitors.  I felt like a fool as time passed with no real contractions.  

When the midwife arrived and checked me, she delivered the devastating news, "you're a 3 1/2."  Say what?!?  Then she commented, "I can tell you're really disappointed."  That's putting it mildly!  I was holding back the tears.  She was hesitant to send us home because she thought it seemed like "the real thing," and asked if we were up to walking for an hour to see if there was any progress.

So, at 3 am, Mark and I started walking the halls of the deserted hospital.  As is typical for me, once I started walking, the contractions started again in earnest. 

*Before I get to the next part of the story, I need to add some background information... A few months ago I read this article about birth.  It's long and complex and I'm not sure I understand or even agree with all of it, but one part (towards the end) really stuck with me.   It's the idea that "no child comes into this world unaccompanied and ... God sends angels to be with them as they enter this world."  I'd told my mom about this idea and we'd spent a lot of time talking about it over the weekend.  It strikes me as a beautiful and true concept.*

It didn't take much walking before the contractions were getting quite painful.  I'd have to stop and squat and rock through them.  I'd been texting back and forth with my mom giving her updates while she sat alone in an empty airport for hours.  Around 3:30 am I got the following text:

"Katie called." ("In the middle of the night?!?," I wondered.) "She had a very vivid dream.  Dad visited her.  She said he looked really good and happy...She said it was so clear.  Looks like he is making the rounds.  You suggested that babies are escorted by family when born.  If you see dad, tell him sorry I missed him and that I love and miss him."

I'm not sure I can adequately describe how I felt when I got that text.  Even re-reading it and writing it now, leaves me an emotional mess. 

It brought all the stress and emotion of the day, and the weekend, and the last month right to the surface in an all-consuming wave.  I was immediately reduced to tears.  Not only was my mom going to miss seeing Graham, she was also - potentially - going to miss out on feeling Dad close.  

Once I started crying, I couldn't stop.  I was tired (sooo tired), and the contractions hurt, and I was overwhelmed by it all.  But at the same time, it was also beautiful.  I won't tell Katie's story, because it's Katie's, but it's amazing and miraculous.  Not too much later, Colleen called Mom (again - in the middle of the night!) to tell her that Dad had also visited her in a vivid dream that was very similar to Katie's.  In my opinion, it's no coincidence that those experiences happened on the night Graham entered the world.  

It took me a while to regain my composure, and by 4 am I was done. D.O.N.E.  As we walked back to the triage room I told Mark, "I don't care what they do.  They can send me home if they want. But I am going to sleep!"  I crawled onto the triage bed and was asleep possibly before the nurse finished hooking me up.  I remember her saying, "the midwife will be here soon to check you."  I woke up a few times when a contraction hit me, and I would breathe through it, and be just aware enough to feel sorry for Mark sitting in the chair next to me, then I'd crash back into a deep sleep.

When the midwife did come, she apologized for keeping us waiting so long, but she had just delivered a baby.  It was 4:45 am.  I consider the timing of that delivery another miracle - I NEEDED to sleep, even if only for 45 minutes.

When she checked me, I was dilated to a 6.  "Hope you weren't planning on going to work today," she told Mark.  Graham was still floating pretty high, but his head was coming down with each contraction, so the midwife (who was awesome, by the way!) consented to break my water.  I cheered, but reigned myself in, "Half of me is thrilled because I know I'll have a baby really soon, but the other half of me knows what I have to go through to get that baby here and would just rather not!"

As we left, the triage nurse commented, "I can't believe you're at a 6!"  I didn't understand her remark at the time (because the contractions hurt!), but in retrospect, I'm sure she saw a lady who said she was in "labor" take a 45 minute nap and thought, "she's heading home!"

We got to the labor/delivery room and had to go through all the registration questions.  The nap did me a world of good, and I was able to function again.  The midwife returned and at 5:47 she broke my water.  It took a good 5-7 minutes before the first post-water breaking contraction hit, but from then on they only increased in intensity.  

Graham was still posterior, so I was instructed to get on my knees and lean against the bed to encourage him to turn (an all too familiar experience...see Thane's birth story!).  The next hour is fuzzy in my brain.  I wish I could say that labor wasn't that painful, but it was and I didn't like it.  At some point, maybe 6:40-ish(?) I said, "I want to get in bed."  So I crawled up onto the hospital bed and laid on my side.

I really just wanted to go to sleep.  I probably should have stayed on the floor.  There was a part of my brain informing me, "lying down is just prolonging labor.  You need to sit up."  But the tired side won out.  I enjoyed the breaks between contractions and Mark and the midwife really were amazing.  "You're doing great!" they cheered.  "You're almost done!"  "He'll be here soon!"  Mark also let me know, "this is one of your longer labors."  That didn't help.

Not long after that, Mark enthused, "you're really close!  They're suiting up now!"  That was exciting to hear (and I had no idea, because I can only endure labor with my eyes closed).  The next thing I knew, a crazy-hard contraction hit and I heard the nurse say, "we need a baby nurse here, now!" and then Graham's head came out.  In one more contraction his body came out too and they put him in my arms. But I was soooo exhausted, that it took me a couple minutes to realize that I was done.  Finished! On the other side of labor, just like I'd wanted!

And the baby!  Oh, just so perfect.  And screaming his hearty little lungs out.  

Can I just say, though, I highly recommend having a baby in the evening.  The whole "laboring all night" thing is not a good plan.  I think I could have handled everything WAY better had I not been so tired.  

Regardless, Graham arrived at 7:03 am.  Grandma was indeed, on her way to San Francisco.  Oh! And at some point in the labor process he did turn around, so he was delivered in the "normal" position (not posterior).

Seven am is when the nurses swift shifts.  Two friends from our last Ward are labor/delivery nurses and were just finishing their shifts.  They came in and were the ones to weigh and measure and dress Graham.  He was 9 lbs. 1 oz, and 21 inches long.  

I was chatting with my midwife later and she said, "you're really rare," then went on to explain that breaking the water doesn't usually have such an immediate effect on labor.  "I really think your labor could have putzed on for a couple more days," she continued, then concluded, "It's a good thing you didn't wait for your water to break at home!"  So, though all my labors have been very different, the one consistent thing is that nothing really happens until my water breaks and then things move fast.
Mark didn't make it home in time for breakfast, but he did get home around 10 am.  Sweet Tammy was fabulous with our kids.  Thane woke up again at 4:30 am, and freaked out when she went in to console him, but eventually went back to sleep.  Bryce woke up at his usual 6:30 am and snuck into my room to say, "Boo" (as is also usual).  But when he said, "BOO" it wasn't me who rolled over, but Tammy!  Which begs the question, who was more startled?  Tammy explains that she started talking to him, but he asked, "um, can I go back to bed now?" Once all the kids were up, Aubree took the lead and everything was smooth and happy.  

We are SOOO grateful for the many friends who went out of their way to help us these last few weeks.

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It's now been nine days since Graham's birth and he is just the sweetest baby.  Aubree calls him "Mr. Contented" (that is, when she's not calling him "Mr. Smells Good").  He sleeps amazingly well and rarely cries and nurses wonderfully and loves to cuddle.  I know it may not last, but we're enjoying every moment it does last.

I spent the first week, while Mark was home, with Graham in my arms (or Aubree's) 24/7.  He's just so precious and snuggly, I can't get enough.  I don't remember loving this stage quite so much with my others.  When Mark went back to work on Monday, I had to go back to being a Mom-to-4, and that means putting Graham down a lot more.  He handles that very well, and it's necessary, but it's not my preference.

My recovery has been awesome.  I think, for me, that's the main benefit of not having an epidural.  Yeah, the labor part stinks, but it goes by fairly quickly and my recovery is so easy.  And this has been my easiest recovery so far (with one minor exception - a blood clot in my leg that landed me in the ER on Tuesday, but even that turned out to be in a superficial vein, so it's also no big deal).  One happy surprise was that I barely even had after-birth pains.  Not sure how that happened, but I'm not complaining!  

I love, love, LOVE the chance to be pregnant.  There were a few years when I doubted I'd have that opportunity.  It's a special privilege.  And I'm also very glad to NOT be pregnant any more.  

While I was in the hospital, the kids were racing up the stairs to brush their teeth.  Bryce called out, "last one up is a ... pregnant mommy!"

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Lest I give the false idea that things are perfect here, let me be clear - we're still figuring things out.  Sometimes it seems like Bryce and Thane are one continuous ball of fighting, disobedience, and destruction.  Aubree's having a hard time getting back into the routine of school after a summer off.  And cleaning? What's that?