Everly's Birth Story

Just a heads up for those of you with a weak constitution or any men who don't want to read about the details of labor and delivery, you might want to skip this post. You have been warned.

We have late babies. It's not uncommon for me to go a few days or up to a week past my due date. It became our normal and so during my pregnancy with Everly, I just expected it. Turns out she was an on-time little lady, being born smack dab on her due date.

The evening before was our church's potluck and baptism. Braxton hicks had become a way of life for the last week or two and so I was used to a contraction here or a contraction there. That evening I knew something was different. I sat on a lawn chair at the city park with a huge plateful of food on my ginromous lap and I had the thought..."what if it really is labor? Do you want to see this devil egg again?" But like a good pregnant lady, I snarfed down every last morsel on that plate, even the peanut butter pie. Especially the peanut butter pie.

Then we headed over to the swimming pool for baptisms. Since Nate was going to be in the water helping with the baptisms, I figured I better give him a head's up. Just in case I had one of those moment like you see in the movies, one huge contraction, eyes popping out of the head, and declaring "It's time to go to the hospital, we're having a baby!". As I sat beside the pool the contractions kept coming about fifteen minutes apart or so. Nate kept giving me questioning looks but it was all good. No sudden turn of events.

We figured the best plan was to just go home, go to bed, and if it was real then labor would wake me up. So that's what we did. Nate fell asleep immediately, I laid there wide awake in anticipation. But not before packing my hospital bag. I packed my bag right before I got into bed. Procrastination is my middle name. I was able to fall asleep for a little while but sure enough, every ten minutes a contraction would wake me up. I got up out of bed and walked around for awhile and they were getting pretty uncomfortable. At few minutes before 2 am I woke Nate up and told him that we should probably head up to the hospital. He was tired, I was tired, and we both were wishing we could just hit pause, catch a good nap, and then do this later. No such luck. We called to have my mom come over and stay with the kids and we headed out.

Walking from the parking lot to the entrance caused a couple more doozies of contractions. They asked me if I wanted a wheel chair to get to the other side of the hospital or did I want to walk? I opted to walk and then halfway there, regretted it. Wow, these were some painful contractions. Not fun at all. When we got to OB they did all the stuff they do. Paper work and hooking me up to a whole bunch of machines and all of that business. The nurse asked how dilated I was at my last appointment. I was at 2 cm and maybe 50% effaced. She informed me that I was exactly the same, nothing had changed, in fact the baby was still really high. This is where I had a moment of "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I was so, so shocked and sad. What in the world were all of those contractions doing all evening? Seriously? Dang it.

It took about an hour for them to take care of all of the stuff they had to do to get us admitted. They called the doctor, gave her the update on where I was at and she gave me two choices. I could get an epidural and try to rest or I could get up and walk around and try to get things moving. I opted to just lay there and weigh my choices. By now the nurses had left the room, Nate was chilling on the couch, and I was deep in negotiations with myself. The contractions kept coming, painful but not too bad. I was tired. I wanted to sleep, but I also just wanted to get this over with. If it was going to go on for hours, I just wanted that epidural and a nap. But what if I got up and walked, maybe it would happen soon. For about 20 minutes I laid there, thinking.

Then there was a contraction that felt different. Lower. Weirder. I told the nurse and asked if she could check to see if anything was different. I was hoping for a five, maybe even a six. At this point her eyes popped out of her head. She said, "You're complete!" in a panicked voice. And the flurry of commotion began. They called the doctor, started running around the room in preparation, and I just laid there. Seriously? That was it? We are ready to push? Alrightythen.

Since the doctor lives about twenty minutes away, she knew she wouldn't make it in time. So they called in a local doctor, a good friend of ours. But while he was on his way, they brought the ER doc in. He stood by the bed and waited, just in case any baby catching was suddenly needed. And yet I had no overwhelming urge to push. The contractions were still coming five to six minutes apart and they really weren't that bad. Turns out my water still wasn't broken and that was just enough to keep things from progressing all the way. When the local doc arrived a few minutes later, he took over for the ER doc and stood guard. Again, no overwhelming urge to push, so we just stayed in limbo. Limbo with feet in stirrups is no fun but whatevah.

Finally the OB came walking into the room and was very surprised to see that we hadn't delivered yet. She got all gloved up and said "Let's do this." She broke my water and wham, there it went. I'm just going to skip the description of pushing because all mothers know there are no words that can capture it completely. No words except for OhMyGoshWhenWillThisBeOver?

And then there she was. Another moment that there are no words for. A Holy moment. She was beautiful. Seven pounds, five ounces of me and Nate. And yet her very own person. How can anyone not profess that it is a complete miracle?

Everything went great after that, for a couple hours. Then, as they were about to take her away so that Nate and I could rest, everything turned bad. I really, really, really had to go to the bathroom. I must have consumed a lot of fluids before labor. The nurse accompanied me to the restroom, as is protocol. This is the conversation that followed, Nate listened from the next room.

Me: "I'm a little dizzy."
Her: "Are you ok?"
Me: "Yeah, I'm ok."
Me: " No, actually, I'm really dizzy."

And then loss of consciousness. She called for Nate to come help while she pulled the nurse call button. Nate and the other nurse went in search of a wheel chair. I don't remember any of this. I do remember a wheel chair to my right and them saying they were going to put me in it. I remember not really caring either way. Nate says my eyes were open the whole time but it was clear that no one was home. My face had gone completely white from such a rapid loss of blood. It turns out I had majorly hemorrhaged, my uterus hadn't been contracting and tightening down. They got me back in the bed and by then had called a code blue. This brought the ER doc, the lab, and a whole bunch of other people to the room. By now I was on oxygen and my IV was hooked back up. I was conscience by now. I remember laying there, looking up at the ceiling in a haze. Weirdest feeling ever.

Nate and the nurses kept asking my questions, trying to keep me awake. I was just so tired. I knew by now that I was going to be ok, but I just didn't have the energy to do anything except nod. So tired. So, so tired. They gave me a shot of something or another in my leg and a bunch more pitocin in the IV. Then they proceeded to practically pound on my stomach to get that dang uterus to tighten back down.

And it did. And I was fine.

We opted to turn away visitors for the first few hours. Both of us were exhausted physically and emotionally. We slept most of the morning and then we were ready to see friends and family by noon. It was a story we didn't share with our kids. The older ones got the modified version.

And so that is how Everly came into this world. It's funny how just three weeks later, it seems like she's always been here. Recovery has been a lot slower than the other births. We've had a lot going on, life just doesn't seem to slow down at all. But I'm trying to cut myself some slack and just take more time to sit and hold her. This morning she smiled at me for the first time. How is it that no matter if it's the first baby, or the eighth baby, one little smile can absolutely melt you and bring tears to your eyes.?

I guess it's just the awe of a little bundle of miracle.