Birth Story

11:34 am. That's what the clock read when I sat down on my bed to get some more sleep. It was Tuesday, November 29th, and I'd been awake most of the previous night due to heartburn, reflux, hunger, and just general uncomfortableness. So I decided to go back to bed for awhile to try to get some much needed sleep. As soon as I laid down, I felt a pop and a rush of fluid. My water broke. I laid there for a minute completely surprised. I was 39 weeks and 5 days along in my pregnancy, only two days before my due date, but I wasn't expecting to go into labor yet. The baby was still sitting quite high, and I hadn't had any cramps or contractions for a few days. It was a surreal moment, and it took my brain a moment to catch up with my body.

I rolled out of bed as fast as I could, threw a towel on top of the now wet sheets and grabbed my phone. I dialed Brian's number and waited impatiently as the phone rang. He didn't answer. Ugh. He likes to keep his phone on silent (although he claims it's always on vibrate) and never picks up when I try to call him. I'd been reminding him for the last few weeks to keep his phone's ringtone on so I could reach him when I went into labor. I sent him a quick "My water broke! Call me!" e-mail instead.

I called my mom next. She had been anxiously waiting for my labor to start and had her bags all packed and was ready to drive down once the baby was on its way. She answered immediately, something she'd been doing every time I called her during the past couple of weeks. I didn't disappoint her this time. She was super excited to hear that the day had finally arrived.

My phone started beeping while I was on the phone with her. Brian was calling me back. He'd been unable to answer earlier, and called as soon as he could. I hung up with my Mom and switched to Brian's call. "Hello. I'm on my way. I'll be there as soon as I can" and click, he hung up. I don't even remember if I said hello back or got anything out before he'd hung up. Haha! I wasn't the only one who was excited and surprised.

I had about 15 minutes before Brian would make it home, so I took a quick shower. I still wasn't feeling any pain. I was blow-drying my hair when he walked in the bedroom. We were both a little scattered, so I was glad we had gotten most everything ready. I'd written a list of the few last minute things we needed to throw into our bags, and Brian got them together while I put on my shoes. A few minutes later we were in the car and on the way to the hospital.

It had snowed a few inches the day before, but the sun was shining and the roads were bare as we drove to McKay Dee Hospital. I still wasn't feeling any contractions, so the drive was quite pleasant. I sent out a group text to family, letting them know things were starting.

We arrived at the hospital around 12:30 and made our way to the Labor & Delivery on the fourth floor. I had already registered with the hospital a couple weeks earlier, so check in was really brief. I had to sign a couple things, and then they gave us our hospital bracelets and took us to a triage room.

Once I had changed into the hospital gown and climbed into bed, I started to feel the contractions. They came on fast and strong. I only had a few that were light, and then they got really intense. They were coming about five minutes apart from the start. I squeezed Brian's hand and breathed through each one. I'm not going to lie, it was really hard. I also thought the room was so hot...or maybe it was just me. Brian found a folder and was fanning me so I didn't melt. I was dilated to a three at this point.

The nurse got me hooked up to all the monitors, and tried twice to put in my IV. The first time she tried to put it in my left wrist, below my thumb. It hurt really bad when she poked me that time, and that is saying something, because she did it during a contraction. She poked through the back of the vein so had to try again. The second time she tried farther down on my left forearm...again she messed it up. Again, she did it during a contraction, and again it really hurt. She recruited another nurse to try a third time. The second nurse came in, looked at the veins on the back of my right hand and smoothly inserted the needle. She got the job done on the first try. I was glad that was over.

I was in the triage room for a little over two hours. They were trying to get in touch with my OB that entire time. He was in a meeting somewhere and was unreachable. Finally, they got in touch with one of his partners who confirmed what they needed to know and ordered the IV meds I needed. I couldn't believe it had been that long, I had been so focused on trying to get through each contraction. I was so happy when the nurse came back in and said it was time to move to a delivery room. 

They wheeled my bed over to our new room. I had a horrible contraction on the way, and almost didn't make it through that one. I wasn't holding Brian's hand at that point, and I realized just how much that was helping me. The pain seemed to be worse when I wasn't holding on to him. I moved to my new bed, and we met our new nurse. She got me all hooked up to the monitors in the new room, and got us oriented. It was around 3:00 pm at this point.

She asked if I was ready for my epidural, and I immediately confirmed that I was. She called in the anesthesiologist, who took a little while to come. It was a wonderful sight to see him finally wheel his cart in the door. While he was setting up his stuff, he read off a list of side-effects/negative outcomes that could happen with an epidural. It's a little intimidating to hear all of that right before someone sticks a giant needle in your back (even though I'd already read about all of that). It made me pause for just a second, but only a second, because another contraction came on, and I realized there was no way I was going to make it without pain relief. I quickly signed the release paper, and Brian helped me sit up on the side of the bed. 

Again, I couldn't have made it through this part without Brian there holding my hands. It was really hard to sit hunched over during contractions. The epidural itself didn't really hurt. I just felt this weird pressure that I didn't really care for. I knew that a needle was being shoved into my spine, and knowing that made the experience unpleasant. The worst part was the numbing shot before the epidural needle. It felt like I was being stung by multiple bees at once. Ouch! Almost immediately, I starting feeling a tingling sensation in my feet, and then they started going numb. Brian and the nurse helped me to lie back in bed. My legs went numb quite quickly, but I could still feel the contractions in my abdomen. The anesthesiologist injected a bit of extra medicine into the epidural tube to help it take effect, and almost immediately the pain went away. It was amazing. Immediately I felt like my world opened up again, and I could actually process where I was and what was going on. I had been so internally focused on getting through each contraction, that the outside world was just a blur. I felt like my mind cleared, and I could actually process what was happening. It was an interesting moment. I felt a little wimpy that I'd only lasted three hours without pain relief, but those three hours were very intense. I was pretty tired already, and I couldn't imagine having to deliver a baby after who knows how many more hours of that. Kudos to all those who have done it naturally.  

After my epidural was in, the rest of the day was really good. The doctor suggested putting me on Pitocin, but I was contracting so regularly and well on my own that I didn't need it. I was progressing quite steadily, and the nurses were surprised that it was my first baby.

Brian and I just hung out and talked as the hours passed. I munched on a lot of ice chips. Whenever the pain started getting bad again, I got to push my handy little button to release an extra dose of epidural medicine. I loved that little button. The day was so beautiful--blue skies and sunshine. Brian snapped some pictures of our view out of the room's window.

My mom arrived at the hospital around 6:30 pm, and came to hang out with us for awhile. If I remember right, I was dilated to a 5 or 6 at that point. I was still doing really well, and feeling great. Brian's parents drove down from Idaho, and they got to the hospital around the same time as my mom. They came in our room and we all visited for a little while. They all left to get some food after a little while, and it was just Brian and I again.

I was dilated to an 8 around 7:00 pm. An hour later I was at a 9. And that's were the progress stopped. I stayed at a 9 for the next three hours. The baby's heart rate started to drop every time I had a contraction. The eight or nine hours I'd been in labor was wearing on the little guy. The nurses said that the cord was probably in just such a position that my contractions were putting pressure on it and restricting blood flow to the baby. Because of this, my nurse kept coming in and moving me around, hoping the change in position would help the baby's heart rate to remain normal. It worked on and off for awhile. After moving me from one side to the next, they tried raising the bed so I was sitting upright. This position seemed to help the most, so I was sitting like that for a little while. 

At some point during those last three hours, I think around 8:00 pm, I started getting really nauseous. Up until then, I'd been feeling fine. I was laying down at this point and couldn't really move because my legs were numb. I have a phobia of throwing up, so I started to freak out a little. Brian tried to help roll me over to the side of the bed, because we didn't have a bag or bucket for me to puke in. Luckily, the feeling passed and I didn't throw up. We called a nurse in, who gave us a bag in case it happened again. Which it did, about an hour later. I was sitting up at this point, which made the experience much better. I couldn't hold it in this time and threw up. Not very pleasant, but it only happened that one time.

I still wasn't progressing, and our baby was still in distress. The nurses came in around 10:30 pm and gave me an amniotic transfusion--basically pumped fluid into my uterus to try and decrease the pressure on the umbilical cord. That seemed to help for a little while, and the baby's heart rate got a little better. They also set up an internal fetal heart rate monitor to better monitor his heart rate. They also talked about giving me some medicine to slow my contractions to reduce the stress on the baby. The side effects of that medicine didn't sound like anything I wanted to experience (fast heart rate, shakiness), so I was really glad when that didn't happen. 

My OB came in just before 11:00 pm and was worried about the baby. He talked to us for a minute while he checked my progress. I was still not quite dilated to a 10, but so close. He was thinking we might have to do a c-section because we needed to get the baby out fast. He had been in distress for too long, and I was taking forever to finish dilating. The baby also hadn't dropped like he was supposed to. He was still a bit too high, and his head was turned slightly to the right. However, our Dr. decided that we should try pushing a few times first, to see if we could deliver vaginally. I was very grateful for that. I didn't want a c-section.

The nurses helped me get into position for pushing, and Brian stood right beside me holding onto my left shoulder. I had a nurse on each side of me to help, and then it was time. I hadn't felt nervous all day, until it was time to push. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to do it. After my first push, I felt much more confident. The baby had moved down a lot with just that one push, and the nurses all said that I was pushing really well. The doctor used a vacuum to help get the baby out faster. Between my pushing, and his pulling, I was able to deliver vaginally. 

Pushing wasn't as hard as I expected it to be. The hard part was trying to catch my breath between pushes. Pushing for 10 seconds at a time while holding your breath, repeated three or four times consecutively, really made me feel winded. I gulped in air between each set. Brian told me later that he didn't feel like he did much to help during that point, but on the contrary he was everything. Zeroing in on his voice as he cheered and encouraged me along gave me the focus that I needed to accomplish what I did. I couldn't have done it without him. It was an amazing experience, even though we were in a bit of a crisis at that point. My epidural was still in full force so I only felt some pressure during the delivery and no pain. I was grateful for that. I felt a rush of excitement and relief when he was out. I had looked at the clock when we were getting ready to push and it was 11:05 pm. Our son was born at 11:25 pm, almost 12 hours after my water broke. I had only pushed for 20 minutes.

Our doctor placed the baby on my stomach. I lay there trying to catch my breath, and feeling amazed at what I'd just done. Then I started to worry when I didn't hear him crying. The nurses whisked him to the side of the room and started working on him. Still no cry. I kept asking if he was okay, and why wasn't he crying. A nurse kept telling us that he was okay, that they were taking care of him. He was breathing shallowly, but just hadn't taken that big deep breath yet.

Brian left my side to go and see what was happening. He took a few pictures while they were cleaning the baby up, weighing him, and checking him out. I don't like to look at these pictures because he was so limp and non responsive. He just wasn't pinking up like he should have been.

He still wasn't breathing like he should have been, so the nurses rushed him out of the room, taking him to the transitional nursery. They held him up briefly for me to see, and I only got that one brief glimpse of him before he was gone. Brian went with them. I was glad he went with our little boy. My brief moment of relief was gone, replaced with fear for my baby.

My Mom and Brian's parents were out in the hallway as the baby was rushed past them. Brian's parents went with him and the baby, my Mom came in the delivery room with me. I was glad she was there to hold my hand while the Dr. sewed me up. Because he was such a big baby--8 lbs 9 oz, 20 1/2 inches long-- and because he had been delivered so fast, I'd torn really badly.

While I was being cared for in the delivery room, our baby was being intubated in the transitional nursery to help him breathe. They gave him a bath and got him situated in an isolette and moved him immediately to the NICU. They thought at first that he would stay in the nursery for a while to be monitored, but they decided just to move him to the NICU so he could get the care that he needed right away.

Brian later told me that the bath was a really good thing, because it made him mad and he started crying a bit. It helped him to pink up more than he had at that point.

Our poor little man. I felt so bad for him. He had a horrible bruise on his head from the vacuum, a bruised elbow, and a broken collar bone because his shoulder got stuck a bit on the way out. What a way to come into the world. Because of his broken bone and his earlier distress, he was in shock when he was born, which caused the difficulty breathing. His little lungs just didn't get a chance to take that first big breath properly, and he also had some fluid in his lungs. They kept him intubated that first night to assist his breathing with positive air pressure.

An hour or so after delivery, once I had been cleaned up and was ready to be transferred to the room we'd be staying in, I got to go see my baby for the first time. I was still numb from the epidural, and had only gotten bits and pieces of what was going on with him. I'm sure they explained it all to me, but I was a bit out of it. I kept asking Brian to tell me what was going on throughout the evening, and it wasn't until the next morning after a bit of sleep that I really understood all that had happened. I didn't get to stay very long in the NICU, just a few minutes to see him and say hello. He was beautiful, and my heart broke that he had to go through all of that trauma.

A nurse took us to our room, and we got situated there for the night. They brought me some food, which I inhaled. I was so hungry and thirsty. We finally got a chance to sleep around 1:00 am...at least for a little while. I didn't mind the nurses coming in regularly throughout the night to check on me, give me pain meds, etc. It did make for a sleepless night, but I wasn't sleeping anyway. I just kept thinking about all that had happened and was worried for my baby.

We ended up staying in the hospital for three days. Those three days were such a whirlwind that they are all muddled in my mind. I just wanted to go see my baby, but I only got to see him once the first day and three times the second day. It was so frustrating. There were so many people that kept checking on us, and needed to talk to us about the birth certificate, NICU information, car seat checks, or a shift change with the nurses. It was so frustrating. When we weren't being bothered by some person or other, it was time to eat, or pump milk, or take medication. And when I did get to go see him, I had to sit in the hardest wheelchair on the planet. By the time we got over to the NICU, scrubbed in, and positioned by his isolette, I would be hurting so bad I felt like crying. I didn't stay very long because I couldn't sit in that wheelchair very long. I felt like a horrible mother those first few days, because I had broken my baby, and then I didn't even have the time or stamina to visit him often or for very long.

     

Brian was able to go over much more often, which I was very grateful for. He would bring me back updates and pictures. We had decided to name him Connor Brian Westover by the way. Connor was doing so well, and improving by the hour. They removed the intubated breathing tube that first day and just had him on a cannula and a feeding tube, and they continually decreased the amount of forced air he was on. He wasn't happy with all the tubes and wires, and kept trying to pull them off or out, so they finally placed a weighted bean bag on him to keep his arms still.

During one visit, Brian got to change his diaper. It was quite the exciting event for everyone. 

During our visit on the first day, we got to hold our son for the first time. It was such a special moment--one that had been delayed for far too long.    

I was crying before the nurse placed him into my arms. I couldn't help it. 

I couldn't get enough of the little guy. I know he was an 8 lb baby, but he still was tiny in my arms...and so beautiful.

All too soon I had to give him up, but it was okay because his dad was dying to hold him. Brian cried too the moment he got to hold him.

Connor settled right down in Brian's arms and fell fast asleep.

     

On our first visit of the second day, the NICU Dr. was telling us that they were going to take his cannula off in a bit. While the Dr. was talking to us, Connor reached up with one of his little hands and pulled the cannula out of his nose. He then moved his hand over and started tugging on the tube right by the tape. We all started laughing. He was ready to be done with that thing. So the Dr. took it off right then. He was breathing on his own and did so good that he never needed it again.

We went back later the second day, and he was in a different room. They had him out of the isolette and in a normal little bed. He was off the air still, and they had removed his breathing tube. It was so great to see him without all those tubes on his face. At this point they were just waiting for some tests to come back to make sure he didn't have any infections. If the tests came back negative, then they could remove his IV. Also, if he ate well during the rest of the day and that night, he would be cleared to go home.

We got to help take his temperature, move some of his monitors, and feed him. I had planned to breastfeed him, but so far I hadn't gotten a chance to try yet. So we just fed him from a bottle because that's what they'd been doing. He ate really well. Apparently, the only time his stats had been off that day, was when he was eating. He was drinking the milk so fast, that he didn't take time to stop and breathe, so his oxygen levels kept falling. He is his father's boy.

     

Also, in this room they had a cushioned chair that I got to sit in. It was much more comfortable than the wheelchair, so I could stay much longer. It was so nice to get to spend time with him.

My Mom was staying in town for awhile to help out once we got home, so she was able to come and see him a few times at the hospital. 

     

I was discharged Thursday evening, but Connor wasn't discharged yet from the NICU. We were hoping he would be the next day, but we wouldn't know until then. So we boarded in our room Thursday night. I didn't want to go home without him. It was really nice not having anyone come check on us that night or the next morning. We actually got some sleep. It's amazing what a few hours of uninterrupted sleep will do to a tired body. We both felt so much better than we had in days when we woke up Friday morning. 

When we got to the NICU  around 11:30, we learned that he was good to go. He was eating well, his oxygen levels were wonderful, and his test results came back negative for any infection. We were so excited that we would be taking our boy home that day. Brian and my Mom went and packed everything up in our room and moved it out to the car. I stayed in the NICU and went over all the discharge information with the nurse. 

When they got back, we strapped him into his carseat...a more daunting task than normal due to his broken collar bone. We had to be very careful with that arm so as not to hurt him. Once the straps were fastened, we had to tape his arm in place so he would keep it still.

     

We were so ready to leave the hospital and go home. I'd like to think Connor felt the same way. The nurse carried his carseat out to the car. On the way, the first person we encountered asked if she could see him (we had a blanket over the carseat to keep him warm once we went outside). We were told to limit visitors and keep him at home for the first two or three months. The nurse had warned us that new babies are people magnets, so it was funny that the first person we met in the elevator immediately tried to get a glimpse of him. We all said no, and then the nurse explained that he had just gotten out of the NICU. 

Once we had him loaded up in the car, we hugged the nurse. We loved the hospital, our OB, and all the nurses that took care of both Connor and I. We feel like we were in good hands the entire time, and all went as well as it did because we had competent people taking care of us. Even so, we were so happy to be headed home.