Well, it's finally happened. And it's real. I keep feeling like I am on some kind of weird baby vacation and I will be returning to my regularly scheduled life anytime now. It is an extremely surreal, strange, overwhelming, joyous, magical, tiring feeling.
We are pleased to announce the birth of our first-born son, Hyram David Love. We absolutely are enchanted by this adorable and peaceful little guy and couldn't be more in love with him.
Labor and delivery were nothing like I imagined. I wrote up a little birth plan, like all OCD mothers do (or so I have read), mostly just to see what options I might not have considered on my own. This process was good for me because some of the prompts I was given were things I had never thought about before. Despite this valiant effort to be prepared and in-the-know, it turns out that the chaos of trying to deal with more pain than ever changes my perspective on a few things.
We (David, Mom, Me, and belly) went into the hospital Sunday night around 9:00 PM. We took our time, even posing for a late-night photo or two on our way.
(Trying to determine who had the bigger belly, of course)
Here comes Hyram!
Apparently David knew we were going to the Family Maternity Center. I was confused...or just short.
When we arrived, we entered the doors we had been taught to go in at our birthing class and made our way toward delivery. Without passing a single soul on the way up, we finally found the right place and couldn't figure out how to actually get in. Good thing we weren't actually in a hurry, because the only one who could manage to find the phone to ask for the doors to open was yours truly.
After signing the paperwork and being shown to our lovely accommodations, I was provided with the most beautiful bum-bearing green gown.
We waited around for a while and admired the plastic bed and my plumper-than-normal feet.
Nice, right?
My nurse, Amber came in to check my progress around 9:30. She hooked me up to the contraction/baby heart rate monitor, and checked me out. I was 80% effaced and 3 cm dilated. She reported to my doctor my condition and came back to tell me my two options: go home and try to sleep, or go home to try to walk around. I was progressing nicely and needed to come back at 6:00 AM to be induced.
I was not all too excited about this because it was now nearing 10:00 and I knew it would be midnight before I could get home and in bed, and the idea of getting up again at 5:00 to return to where I had started didn't sound like a lot of fun. But alas, the options had been given. She went to call my doctor one more time to update him on the situation and to get me some pain meds in case I needed them during the night. Apparently, Hyram is an entrepreneur. For each night that I stay in the hospital, my supplemental insurance will pay me $400 in cash. He didn't want to miss out on this opportunity and kicked it into high gear. In the following 30 minutes while Amber was out of the room, my contractions started coming two minutes apart and I started feeling quite uncomfortable. She decided to check me again and determined that I had progressed to 4.5 cm! His little plan worked and I was admitted.
We were told that I was far enough along now that we could start the epidural if I so pleased...and pleased I did. I was hooked up to a blood-pressure cuff and an IV (which I had been REALLY nervous about, but it ended up being no big thing). The contractions started to get stronger, but I waited patiently for "Bart," the anesthesiologist to arrive. Somewhere in all of the mess of getting me checked in, the entire hospital staff showed up to either poke me or ask me questions. Just as the contractions started to get really bad, my nurse started asking me 100 questions, some guy cut my arm to see how my blood coagulated or something (and he was all up in my personal space), people were talking really loudly (or so it seemed) and I just couldn't take any of it anymore. I let out my first labor cries. Bart showed up about the same time, probably around 10:30 or 11:00 PM (I really don't know, maybe it was later.) and gave me the juice. I was much more nervous about the epidural than I had been about the IV (obbbbbviously), but too much of a pansy to even think of going without one. What they say is true...when that magic potion kicks in, you feel all cozy and rested and ready to settle in for a little hibernation. TMI alert: the (other) catheter was awesome too! That was the first time in months that I didn't have to get up every hour to pee! YES!
Unfortunately...my winter slumber was short-lived and I started feeling everything...times 7,000 around 5:30 AM. I started screaming and crying around 6:00 AM when all of the nursing staff changed shifts. My new nurse, Kristie, did not come at the right time if she wanted to meet delightful Denae. She came in to check on me and I begged for something to make the pain go away. She blew it off a little and said something to the effect of, "You already have an epidural, you can't expect perfection...what do you want me to do about it?" I, lacking any sense of etiquette upon meeting this new acquaintance, screamed something lovely like, "I don't know! That's YOUR job, not mine!" Nice. I know. So she tried to get Bart back, but he was already gone. Mr. Anesthesiology number 2 was invited to the party and provided me with a bolus dose (which is basically a huge amount all at once rather than the slower drip process). He was not very amiable about it. This helped a lot for about an hour. I was able to sleep again and enjoy more of my cherry-lime ice chips in peace. I am sure my new nurse was pleased to see the more socially acceptable version of Denae come out to play. Kristie checked me and I had progressed to an 8 by this time.
After about an hour or two however, the beast in me came out again. The contractions were worse, and I was losing my strength and patience. I started crying so hard that I literally couldn't breathe out my nose, and my mouth would get so dry that I would choke on the cold air I was gasping for, hitting the back of my throat. I would cry and scream while trying to tear the handle bars on the side of the bed off and demand more ice chips after every choking episode. Not a very pretty picture. Finally, they had Mr. Angry Anesthesiology (#2) come back again and he tried to reason with me. He told me that I had already been given more than twice the amount as any "normal" person and that I should just deal with it because he was sure it was just pressure I was feeling, not actual pain. I wanted to show him a little "pressure, not pain" in his face...with my fist...or a bed pan...or a sledge hammer. Jerk man.
Anyway, he finally consented to give me another bolus dose and I was contented again for another little bit. He told me I could only push the button to add a little more juice once an hour. (Who does this guy think he is!?) Has
HE ever tried to contract a Halloween pumpkin out of
HIS uterus? I didn't think so.
Relief once again...
Waiting for the big show...
The relief unfortunately was short-lived once again and sometime around noon or 1:00 PM (now going on about 15 hours of active labor), the contractions again became unbearable. I couldn't breathe, talk, or do anything but cry and demand new gum or ice chips. I think I asked if it had been an hour yet about every three minutes and told David to "PUSH THE BUTTON!" more often than he knew how to respond to. Finally, jerk man was in surgery, so Kristie had another nurse anesthetist come. Still an 8 at this point. Somewhere around this time, I started feeling sick. The magnesium sulfate they had me hooked up to had that affect on most people I was told. I felt gross, David told Kristie, she brought in a little bag with a cardboard opening, I threw up all over myself, and then I felt better. Perfect.
Back to the nurse anesthetist: Paul. Oh beloved Paul. This guy knew his stuff. He came meandering in with his hippie beard and chatting like we were all old friends. He ended up simply removing the first epidural all together and putting in another a few vertebrae up. It was a lot harder this time than it had been the first, because I was having violent contractions the whole time he was working on me and it was nearly impossible to sit still. I was clutching a pillow in my lap and he kept asking me to "slouch." I don't know if you have ever tried to slouch with a pillow-covered basketball in your lap before, but from this experience, I can tell you that it is more difficult than it sounds. We made it through though and I finally found some true relaxation. Hallelujah! And thank you, Paul! Maybe between 8-9 cm by now.
Around 3:00 PM, I started to feel...the baby...coming. Weird, weird, weird. There aren't many civilized ways to describe the feeling. Just weird. Kristie checked me again, and I was a 10! She could feel that he had hair too! Also weird. She called Dr. Prince and he suggested that we "labor down" for a bit and let the baby and my body do a lot of the work while I was still somewhat comfortable before I started pushing. I just hung out for about an hour letting my contractions do the work and let little (or not so little) Hryam get ready for the big moment.
The time to start pushing arrived around 4:00 PM. Let me just say that the movies have messed us up big time. I don't think a single movie ever made has dedicated more than ten minutes (and that's pushing it) on the actual delivery part. Most movies take you from start to finish labor and delivery in less than five minutes. Well, ladies...this is a LIE. It was a lot more anti-climatic than I anticipated as well...at least to start out. Kristie just casually asked me if I wanted to start pushing, and I really did agree that it was time. The real surprise came to my mom and David when she said, "Ok! Grandma over here, and Dad on this side." They looked at each other like, "Whhhaaaaaaaaaat?" David was assigned my right leg and mom, the left. Neither of them had signed up for this particular attraction at the Denae-bears-all amusement park. Every time a contraction would come, they each pushed a leg toward my chest to give me more resistance. I usually pushed about four long times during a contraction and then we all took a break to await the next one. I expected this to be the epic finale of my already long, hard journey...but it wasn't. This went on for a long, looooooonnnggg time. Luckily, this part was waaaaaaaay easier than dealing with the earlier mentioned contractions. This was with an epidural that actually worked. Pressure, not pain...check. I pictured this part of the whole thing much differently. I imagined sitting up for the most part with my legs in stirrups with the nurse/doctor telling me what to do the entire time. Not so. She basically just told us what to do and went about her business charting my vitals and giving me a rousing, "One more!" every once in a while. I was laying flat on my back with my feet in the air whenever my little duo picked them up. At first, David and Mom would hold up my legs during the contractions, and then let them rest back down on the bed during the waiting time. Eventually, my legs started cramping or something and I just wanted to leave them up the whole time. We pulled out the stirrups to let my legs rest up instead of down and kept going. Toward the end, my hips were killing me and I thought my legs might just fall off, so I wanted them down again to be able to stretch those muscles out. It was only later that mom told me I had...released various fluids on the bed/table that I stuck my foot in every time I put the leg she was holding down. David later said he had been curious as to why Mom was washing her hands during each break from that time on. :) Sorry, Mom!
Finally after forever and another year, I felt like I had been pushing and pushing and making no progress at all. My hips were on fire and I begged for Mom and David to put pressure on them during each rest. Kristie finally told me that if I gave it one more great push that she would go call the doctor. I was surprised because I didn't feel any farther than when I had started. But, true to her word, I gave another mighty push and she kept her end of the deal. Dr. Prince showed up within the next five minutes and started garbing up. I was kind of shocked because I thought I still thought I had a long way to go. I remember asking him if I was really getting closer, because I didn't want to have that kind of false hope. He promised me that I was doing great and that we were having this baby soon. I started getting a little scared because the overall feeling in the room was more excited and it seemed that things would be moving more quickly. Every once in a while, Kristie would give me instructions, but I never seemed to be able to hear her. I think I was screaming too loudly for that. I just remember Dr. Prince getting right up in my face and very calmly, but intensely coaching me through what I needed to do. He told me I needed to channel my strength and to just "get pissed" and focus all of my energy in pushing. He told me to really make it count. It actually helped me a lot. He was just the coach I needed. I had a brief glimpse of ET though as I watched him through his face mask and other getup. Probably the most random thought that crossed my mind that day. :)
Anyway, I gave one more "pissed off push" and everyone in the room reacted with a quick intake of breath and wide eyes. I obviously couldn't see anything, but I knew I was at least further than before. Apparently, I was closer than I knew, because just as Dr. Prince noticed that I was starting to tear and prepared to perform the episiotomy, I pushed one last time and...out plopped an entire baby! That part was different than I had imagined too. I thought his head would come out and the one shoulder at a time...but no...head, body, baby, bam! There he was! The cord was around his neck, but not tight and Dr. Prince quickly unwound it. He sucked out the goop from his mouth, Hyram let out his first magical eagle squawk, they handed him to me, David cut the cord...whoa mama! It all happened so fast! I remember feeling such a sense of physical relief when he came out! I had lungs again! There was space for my bladder and stomach again! Mom said that as soon as Hyram was handed to me, Dr. Prince started pulling on the umbilical cord "like a magician pulling on scarves." She half expected flowers to pop out. What popped out however, was definitely not flowers. She said the placenta looked like a white, bloody jellyfish. Nice. Glad I missed that part.
While I was being stitched up, I got to meet my beautiful, purple, cone-headed, wonderful, puffy baby. I remember wanting so badly to sit up so I might be able to see him better, but couldn't do anything about it since I was at the time, a sewing project. I remember breathing so hard that I thought my lungs might burst, but not caring because his eyes were right on me, staring at me for the first time. Everyone around me was commenting or crying, but I couldn't really feel or think anything. All I could do was stare at this little (huge) creature that had just come out of me and wonder how something so incredible could be possible. I was looking into the eyes of a miracle.
Hyram David Love was born at 5:45 PM on Monday, October 15, 2012 at the Madison Memorial Hospital in Rexburg, Idaho. He weighed in at 9 lbs 9 oz and measured 21 inches. What a big boy!
You like that cone-head or what? ;)
It was slightly traumatic trying to get that huge noggin out, so he needed oxygen for just a minute.
Uncle Garet arrived just minutes after his first cries
Our new little family & Dr. Prince
Hyram's first bath
We guessed that most babies actually fit in their pink buckets...
Grandma Love and Aunt Amy were waiting right outside to hear his first cries
I really liked that they performed all of the medical tests and gave his bath right in our room. He was literally never out of my sight unless someone stood in the way (which I was able to quickly inform them of). I was still huffing and puffing on the bed, trying to restore a normal breathing pattern. After his bath, I tried to feed him, but didn't have much to offer, so they let David give him his first bottle. By this time, I had collected myself a little and was finally able to feel some real emotions about the whole situation. I remember saying, "David's a daddy!" and only then, realizing that it was true. That was the first time I was able to get any tears out over the whole thing.
Oh, how I love these two boys!
All seemed quiet and calm on the home front. Mom was stitched up, Dad was feeding the baby, Baby was breathing...so things started to settle down. Dr. Prince brought me the Pepsi I had been dreaming of for hours and left, Grandma Love and Amy went home, Garet and Mom went to the cafeteria to have dinner, the nurses changed shifts, I got to order food (and LOTS of it: Cheeseburger, fries, chocolate milk, strawberry milkshake, grapes...I ate it ALL too)...peace and quiet. Until...
While I was enjoying my PTSD meal, my new nurse, Bonnie came in with another nurse whose name I never learned. They started doing the worst possible thing they could ever do to a poor recovering mother. Apparently, the uterus needs some help disposing of its inner parts after birth, so massaging it is an unfortunate common practice. At this time, my epidural had worn off, but I could still feel it in my back and it hurt like nobody's business. My back was aching like the dickens. When the mystery nurse started pushing on my stomach, I literally thought I was going to die. This was the single worst moment of the entire birthing process. She had me take huge deep breaths and every time I exhaled, she pushed my uterus in and down. After about three of these breaths, I was in agony. I painstakingly begged her to stop, but she couldn't. I noticed that there were more nurses around than there should have been. What I couldn't see were the liters of blood and the tennis ball sized clots that were hitting the hospital floor as she continued to take me through this process. I have since learned that this is not a normal thing to have happen. Dr. Prince was called back because losing half the blood in your body is not routine post labor activity. Luckily, this first excruciating episode actually ended up relieving some of the stress in my back, and the next dozen times they did this, I was not nearly as uncomfortable. The nurses seemed to have most everything under control by the time Dr. Prince returned, but there was talk about a blood transfusion and me needing to be monitored closely.
Mom walked back in right in the middle of the blood-and-guts catastrophe and I think she thought I was going to die. Lucky for her, I didn't. :) I don't remember a ton after that...it was all kind of a blur. I just remember having to get up a while later with a LOT of help, and a speed team coming in to clean up the murder scene I had produced. They were zippy fast! I remember my blood pressure cuff going off every 15 minutes, being able to hold my baby...but wishing I weren't still hooked up to an IV. I remember shaking like a leaf trying to walk the first two times, but having David there to hold me up every step of the way, and Bonnie right behind him, just in case he lost his dinner.
Sometime the next morning, we were moved to recovery on the lower floor. Our room was really nice and pretty comfy. My bed was way more comfortable, likely due to the fact that it actually had a real mattress. :) Sometime that afternoon, I was able to very carefully and shakily take my first shower since Sunday. Oh, how a shower can make you feel human again. The day was pretty calm, but I didn't get any rest because I couldn't stop staring at my new little wonder.
Our first official family picture :)
David went home for a little bit on Tuesday to get some things he needed, run some errands, and post a picture to Facebook. Why the hospital blocks Facebook was a mystery to us! He came back with a beautiful bouquet of flowers for me! He said there were nine and I could choose whether I wanted them to represent one for each month I was pregnant, for each pound of baby I had to push out, or one for every to hours I was in labor. I love that man. :)
Uncle Garet came to visit every day and usually ate dinner with Mom in the hospital cafeteria. Garet noted the decent food at cheap prices and decided that the hospital would likely be a good place to bring a date in the future. :)
The rest of our little hospital stay was full of eating Ben & Jerry's, trying to rest, learning how to feed Mr. Chubby Cheeks, ordering lots of Pepsis and chocolate milks, and attempting to gain some strength back. Tuesday went pretty well and we even had some visitors that night. I was super unstable and shaky, but felt like I was making progress. I think I was living on pure adrenaline though. I didn't sleep at all that day because I was finally aware enough to try to take in my new little guy. I just sat and held him, staring at him. It was hard to sleep that night either because every time he made any kind of noise, I would wake up and panic, wondering if he was alright. By Wednesday morning, I think I was delirious from sleep deprivation. When David helped me get up, I couldn't walk or talk straight and started sssstuttering all of my sssss'sss. I sssssounded like a sssssnake. Oh brother. On his morning rounds, Dr. Prince decided that I needed to stay an extra day because my blood and iron levels were still so low. I was relieved to hear this news, because the idea of going home already terrified me! Sadly, there was a conflict with my insurance company and they were refusing to pay for another day. This insurance problem, my lack of sleep, along with a crying baby that I couldn't get to latch that morning sent me into complete melt-down mode. I lost it big time and just cried for who knows how long. Luckily, David knew what to do and he was able to help me calm down and finally get me to sleep, beautiful sleep. I spent most of Wednesday sleeping and by that night, I was actually feeling a little better for real. I even made it into the Jacuzzi and David and I took a little stroll around the hospital. He started by pushing me in the wheelchair, and we came back with me pushing him. :)
I wasn't the only tired one...
I just LOVE this little guy!
My case worker, finally figured out the whole insurance problem and we were able to stay. Thursday morning came and Dr. Prince decided that I really wasn't going to get better on my own. Apparently maintaining only half your normal blood is frowned upon. So, a large chunk of Thursday was spent getting a blood transfusion. It sounded super scary at first, but it really wasn't bad at all, and...it made me feel sooooooooo much better! All I could think about the whole time however, was Bella and her creepy vampire baby.
It didn't help that Hyram developed jaundice the same day and his eyes turned yellow. Double creepy. The poor kid had to get his hepatitis shot that morning and tons of blood drawn to be tested over and over. His little feet looked like he'd been to war with all of the bandages that kept being stuck on him.
All of our bangles of glory: The yellow one warned everyone that I was a "fall risk," pink reminded them to put the right kind of blood into me so I didn't die, the white ones were ID bracelets so everyone knew Hyram belonged to us and we belonged to him. The little tiny ones were on Hyram. I thought they should have given me a diamond one too for all my hard work.
We started getting ready to head home that night after dinner. We had watched the sweet hospital videos about everything we needed to know to be parents and packed up. We were getting our discharge classes when suddenly, my nurse realized that the pharmacy was going to close and she couldn't give me any extra pain medication after I took my last dose from her. It was 6 minutes until 9:00 PM and I told David to RUN! Angie (my nurse) called the pharmacy and told them that he was on his way and made sure it was already packaged since she had called it in earlier. They said it was ready to go, but that they would still have to close at 9:00 per "company policy." She begged them to just wait for him to get there and hung up. David called me at 8:59 and told me the bad news. They closed EARLY...on purpose likely, because they knew he was coming and didn't want to have to wait! Can you believe it?! He made it from the hospital to the parking lot, to Walmart, and into the pharmacy, with thirty seconds to spare and they were already closed! I was so ticked. David went and talked to the assistant manager and let him have a piece of his mind...which I am sure sounded very kind and diplomatic (unlike what he would have heard from me, had I been there). The nerve. I settled with ibuprofen for the night and Mom went back in the morning to get the good stuff. We finally made our way out of there around 10 or 11:00 PM and took our first venture out into the world. It was a scary two-mile drive home. I think it took us more than ten minutes. :)
Well, that about wraps up the great labor, delivery, and recovery adventure. It was been almost two weeks since Hyram was born now and it still doesn't seem real. We really couldn't have managed without the help from both Grandma's. We are so grateful for their selfless service and late night baby-rocking so David and I could sleep.
Hyram and Grandma Telford
We have also been more than thankful for all the people in our ward who have stepped in to bring us meals and help with whatever they have been able to, especially my sweet visiting teachers, Karlee and Marianne. They have all gone above and beyond what we might have hoped for. We feel so blessed to have this sweet little baby in our family and look forward to see the marvelous things he does with his life. We are mostly grateful for the blessing it is to be his parents. The true journey has just begun.
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