I think this story best begins the day before I actually went into labor.
THE DAY BEFORE: Spencer's brother, Connor, came home from his mission! We spent the afternoon waiting anxiously at the airport, then went out for a celebratory lunch. There was a lot of excitement and good conversation. Spencer had to get back to work though, so we had to cut our time with Connor short. Spencer was looking forward to the chance to hang out with him some more, so when we were invited up to Bountiful to play some pickleball that evening, of course we said yes. (And when I say "we" were invited to play, I really mean Spencer was invited to play, and I was invited to cheer them on. There was no way this already uncoordinated girl was going to attempt to play a new sport at 40 weeks pregnant).
So I spent the evening trying to stay comfortable in 90 degree weather and a camp chair. I kept myself entertained by creating some Boomerangs of everyone playing pickleball. I joked that all the excitement of the day would hopefully make our little boy want some excitement for himself.
After a few games, we decided it was time to get Spencer home since he had to work the next day. When we got home, I was exhausted, and Spencer found a second wind and decided to stay up and play a video game.
Side note: the past few nights he'd stayed up late playing--trying to get in some good game time before the baby came. I'd started to worry about his lack of sleep if I went into labor during the night. I finally voiced this concern to Spencer that night and asked him not to be too crazy with his playing and come to bed at a reasonable hour--just in case. (This is important because I feel like this comment is what sent me into labor...). He laughed it off, kissed me good night, and I fell asleep.
THE DAY OF HIS BIRTH: At 2 a.m. I woke up (to an empty bed) with some pains that were very distinct and different from the discomfort of my frequent Braxton Hicks contractions. I did a quick Google search with a description of my pain, and all the signs told me these were true contractions. I started timing the contractions as I tried to fall back asleep. The pain quickly escalated so the idea of sleeping through them went out the window. So I focused on timing the contractions. They were pretty sporadic at first, which led me to believe I was probably in false labor or very early labor. They ranged from every 7 minutes to every 15. I kept thinking they'd stop any minute, so I stayed in bed for a bit longer before telling Spencer I was having contractions. I really didn't want to say I was in labor and then be wrong. After almost an hour of consistent contractions about every 6 minutes, I went into the office and told Spencer that I thought I was in early labor.
We spent the next two hours timing my contractions and trying to keep me distracted. By 5 o'clock, my contractions were 5 minutes apart, so I decided we should get ready to go (at our own pace) because things were looking pretty serious. By the time we were ready to go it was 6:30 and my contractions were every 3.5 minutes and quite painful. We made it to the hospital and got put in a triage room to see if I was actually in labor (meaning my dilation/effacement changed over the course of an hour).
During this time, Spencer tried to distract me and talk through my contractions, but they were just too painful. All I could do was breathe through them. What I needed the most was a distraction during the time between contractions, because all I could think about was the pain that was coming in a minute and a half. The nurse came in and out to check my blood pressure, but she mostly monitored my contractions from a computer at the nurses' station. At the end of the hour, she checked me again, and there was no change. My doctor happened to be at the hospital with a scheduled c-section, so she was going to talk to him when he was done to see what he wanted to do.
It took almost another hour to hear anything from my doctor, and this hour was the hardest. I was in so much pain and on top of that I was stressed that we were going to be sent home and I would have to deal with this pain for who knows how much longer. The nurse finally came back, and not-so-kindly delivered word from my doctor that I was, in fact, being sent home. He expected I'd be back later that night or the next day. I was defeated and so, so sad! I was worried all morning that I wasn't really in labor, and here I was at the hospital and the nurse was telling me I wasn't in labor. The most frustrating thing was that I had all the signs of labor that they tell you to go to the hospital for--contractions that were less than 4 minutes (that was my doctor's interval) lasting for an hour or more, that you couldn't talk through. So I asked the nurse how I was supposed to know when I should come back. She said when they were increasing in frequency or pain (...uhhh we're already there, hun). Obviously, I was a little too good at dealing with the pain because I was already at my maximum for pain and couldn't imagine it getting worse. (In hindsight, I should've had her check my dilation again, because I'm certain I'd progressed in that extra hour we waited).
I was offered a shot of morphine and percocet, and since they weren't expecting me to deliver anytime soon, they said it would wear off for me and the baby before he was born. I was desperately in need of something to help with the pain, so I accepted the chance for the shot. I felt the morphine before we even left the parking lot, but unfortunately the only effect I felt was drowsiness--no relief from the pain. We made it home and decided to try and nap. I probably slept for a half hour, then the pain of the contractions woke me up again. Even with all these reasons I should be asleep (side effect of the drugs and lack of sleep the night before), the pain of the contractions kept me awake.
We had lunch, meaning I nibbled at a sandwich, and put on an episode of American Ninja Warrior to try and distract me. It didn't work. I tried walking around the room. Spencer tried massaging my back. I tried breathing through it. Nothing helped, but I was terrified of going back to the hospital and being sent back home. Spencer kept telling me we should go, but I, being the stubborn girl that I am, kept putting it off, saying I was fine to wait it out a bit more at home.
By 2:30pm, my body was exhausted and sore from 12 hours of labor, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I told Spencer we needed to go to the hospital, and he happily obliged.
We got there, and the same nurse that sent us home was there. I was spitefully happy to see her there to prove to her that I was in fact in labor that morning when I was sent home. We signed in and got put back in the same triage room. A nurse came in and checked me, and I was at a 6 with a bulging bag of water. I WAS STAYING! I'd dilated almost 4 cm in 5 hours, and I tell you, I felt every centimeter (not really, but the pain was definitely there). The nurse was shocked that I made it that far without coming into the hospital! I explained that we'd already been in and sent home, and she was impressed that I progressed that far on my own.
We got moved into a delivery room, and they got me set up with an IV. As soon as the IV was in they could call for the anesthesiologist to come and administer the epidural. The wait for him to get there was so HARD! Knowing that relief was on the way, but not knowing exactly how long I had to wait was killer. I didn't end up waiting too long; he was there within 15 minutes of my IV being finished. I almost cried when he walked in the door. I've never been more excited for a needle in my life. I didn't feel any pain from the placement of the epidural, and I felt immediate relief once he was done. I love modern medicine! Spencer said once the epidural was in, I was back to acting like myself.
Most of my contractions were felt in my back, and from what I read online (not sure if it's a good or a bad thing how much I read up on labor and delivery during the last few weeks of my pregnancy), this typically meant the baby was posterior, or face-up, when he ideally should be face down. The nurses had me lay on one side for 30 minutes, then they'd turn me to the other side to try and coax the baby to flip.
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| so excited for my jello diet |
Then we played a waiting game. Because I'd dilated so much on my own, the nurses didn't give me any pitocin to speed things along (which apparently is a common intervention they have to do for first time moms. As the nurses changed shifts they made sure to boast that bit of news for me).
My doctor was now out of town, so I met the on-call OB who would deliver the baby. (Dr. Twelves, she was the best!!) She checked me, and I was dilated to an 8. She decided to break my water to speed up the final bit of dilation. That was the weirdest feeling in the world. Apparently I had a lot of amniotic fluid, and it just kept coming and coming! I swear my belly felt smaller afterward (it was all in my head, I'm sure). There was some meconium in the water, so they'd have some respiratory specialists in the room for delivery just in case the baby aspirated some of it.
We had more of a wait, but this time was a little more exciting. We had people in and out, preparing the bassinet and doctor's table for delivery. At 8pm I was checked again, and I was fully dilated and effaced and ready to push! Pushing with an epidural was definitely a weird thing because I had no idea if I was doing it right.After almost an hour of pushing, with different nurses and different positions of pushing, there was barely any progress. During this first hour of pushing, several irregular things started to come up with my labor process. First, the baby's heartbeat was starting to dip during contractions and as I was pushing, so they put me on oxygen and kept a close eye on his heart rate. They shouldn't have pointed this out to me, because from that point on with every contraction, I worried about his heartbeat. Another thing that was concerning the nurses, and therefore stressing me out, was that every time they checked the position of the baby's head, there was blood on their gloves. The nurses were great and didn't actually act concerned, but the fact that they made sure to point it out told me that it wasn't normal. The last thing was something they didn't realize until after I'd pushed for a while--the baby's head was crooked in my pelvis, so he wouldn't fit past the ischial spines unless something changed. They propped up my left side to help his head slide more to the right.
Because of all these complications, but mostly because the baby's heartbeat kept dipping, the nurses decided to let us "rest and descend," where they just let gravity to a bit of work without me pushing. We had a half hour break to just recharge.
When the nurses came back, I was determined to get this baby out (mostly out of fear of a c-section), so I was excited for the chance to push again. After about 15 minutes, the doctor came back in, and I knew we were going to have this baby! Because I was having such a hard time making any progress with this crooked little guy, the doctor mentioned that we might need to use forceps to get him out. I'd heard horror stories about them, but at this point, I knew I had already torn, so there wasn't much more damage the forceps could do. So since the doctor thought it was out best option (which also meant avoiding a c-section), I was okay with it.
I pushed through a couple contractions with the doctor there, but didn't make any progress. The nurses did some final preparations and the doctor got the forceps ready. On the next contraction, the forceps plus one push got the whole baby out! It really startled the doctor who was expecting just his head to come out, but with that one push our sweet baby boy was born at 10:36pm! Just goes to show I was pushing correctly, and dang hard, but this little stubborn boy was stuck pretty good!
Once he was out, Spencer cut his cord, and we got to do skin to skin. I couldn't believe he was here! As soon as they laid him on my chest, I felt something warm leaking down my side. Our boy decided to greet me by peeing all over me! (I'd like to say that was the last time he peed on me, but...). The next few minutes were a complete blur, but I couldn't stop staring at this beautiful boy laying on top of me!After a half hour or so, they finally weighed him and measured him, and we learned another reason why his delivery was so hard! Our little guy was not so little! 9 pounds 5 ounces, and 21 inches long! He is absolutely perfect, and we couldn't be more in love!
We were pretty sure when we got to the hospital that his first name would be Everett, and his middle name would definitely be Randall because that's Spencer's and his dad's middle name, but it wasn't until we were just about to leave and were filling out the birth certificate paperwork that we actually had a conversation about it!
Luckily, there was no parenting test or exit exam;), so they let us leave with our little man after 48 hours.
We have been loving our time as a family of three! Everett has definitely changed our lives for the better, and we love him so much!
Welcome to the world, Everett Randall Bryson! We are so glad to have you here!
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