Our little boy was due May 11th. Due dates are much less magical and much more anticlimactic than you would think. Though I walked endless circles around the loop at mine and Scott's favorite park and attempted to shoot granny shots with a basketball across the court, Asher decided May 11th was not the time to come.
Because he decided to hold off, I had to go to a doctor's appointment on May 17th to see how things were holding up. Apparently I was showing signs of preeclampsia, a "disease" that only exists during pregnancy and can only be cured by giving birth. I guess the main worry is that you can develop seizures if it gets to a certain stage and all your organs can start to malfunction. So, my OBGYN told me I should get to the hospital ASAP so that I could be induced. I really didn't want to be induced, but it was really nice to have some thought of closure.
The Kaiser birthing center in Clackamas apparently was full, so, though my OBGYN told me to get there quickly (and this was in the morning), I wasn't able to be seen until that evening. I think around 9:00pm or so? It was really frustrating being pushed back and pushed back, but Scott and I at least got to have some fun at the Clackamas shopping mall and got 75% off our purchase at Billabong, which is apparently closing in the Pacific Northwest.
Even though we were finally seen at the Kaiser birthing center that evening, they were technically still pretty full, so they ended up waiting to induce me the next morning. They were supposed to induce me at 2:00am, then at 5:00am, but didn't induce until about 9:00am once we got a new nurse (who ended up being my delivery nurse) named Janet who I absolutely adore! It was nice to finally feel like someone was advocating for us to get things going.
Apparently my body was somewhat sensitive to the pitocin they gave me. With pitocin, they start you off at two units (whatever that means!) and increase the units by two every half an hour. Once the pitocin was increased to 8 units, my contractions were occurring too frequently; although they weren't painful for me at this point, apparently Asher could still feel them and it wouldn't be good for them to occur so frequently without anything progressing. So, Janet had to increase and then decrease the pitocin multiple times so that things would go the way we wanted. Once 8:00pm hit, I finally was experiencing painful labor contractions--though I felt like I was already in the textbook definition of transition because I was not getting any breaks!
Initially I was trying to go natural. I was actually all about going natural. I told people that I couldn't explain why but that going natural without pain medication just "sounded right". Plus, retrospectively, I think I may have been slightly scared of getting a shot in my back! Poor Scott would try to go through the breathing techniques that we learned in our two sessions of birthing classes, but I just would have none of it. I had been up since 5:00am in hopes of being induced and I was in constant pain and I couldn't see how I could survive if I had to continue like that through the night. I ended up getting an epidural around 2:00am and it was the best thing in the world! Really, GET THE EPIDURAL! I can no longer fathom why anyone would ever want to go natural! Getting the epidural even hurt less than getting my IV. High five to any woman who is able to go without pain medication; however, I couldn't help but be grateful for being able to get some sleep and feel comfortable. Whoever was in the room next to me moaning and screaming a bunch the next morning only increased my feelings of relief.
Finally, on Sunday, May 19th, I was more than enough dilated and ready to push. I'm not sure when I started to push exactly, but I was told the entire pushing process lasted less than an hour. It was really motivating having my nurse Janet telling me I was doing such a good job and having Scott hold up one of my legs looking so excited (and slightly grossed out during certain moments, which made it hard to push a few times because I burst out laughing, which I definitely wouldn't have been doing without that blessed epidural!). Scott later told me that I looked like an intense, beastly gymnast while I was pushing! I didn't think that I would want to see, but at one point I asked for them to set up a mirror so that I could see the progression as I was pushing. It was amazing! And yes, I'm going to say it again: the epidural was great because I was able to feel enough to be able to push--but it wasn't painful. The pressure was "intense" at times in the sense that it was hard not to push towards the end when the doctor told me not to in order to avoid tearing, but the intensity of the pressure certainly isn't something to be feared or worried about. Honestly, the most difficult thing about the epidural was not knowing when I was experiencing a contraction, so Scott and Janet had to let me know when I was so that I knew when to push.
The feelings and scene of when Asher came still makes me smile. Scott helped my doctor, Alice Weaver (who I also adore!), catch Asher and they immediately plopped him in my arms. I have never felt such a warmth in my life; it was a warmth that completely captured me, inside and out, and was one of the most incredible feelings I've ever had. I was almost completely unaware of what was going on around me as I held such newness, such purity. Before Asher was born, we were warned that he may look a little blue and that was completely normal; when he was born, it was funny to see Doctor Weaver and Janet exclaim, "wow! He's so pink already!"
After Asher came, some complications arose. It started when the umbilical cord detached from the placenta before the placenta was delivered. Apparently the umbilical cord had been attached to the placenta improperly all along and it was a miracle that it didn't become unattached from the placenta before Asher was officially out in the world; I was told it could have been devastating to him had that essential life preserve been plucked from under him. I feel so blessed even now to know that he arrived minutes before this detachment occurred. Doctor Weaver then had to press really hard on my stomach to try to get the placenta out herself (this part actually hurt despite the epidural). After scraping out what we hoped was all of the placenta, the doctor left and my delivery nurse, Janet, was cleaning some things up. I ended up gushing out a lot of blood again and Janet had to call Doctor Weaver back in. The doctor tried to scrape out more of my placenta again, but I just continued to bleed, so she ended up telling Scott and me that they needed to take me to the operating room. I guess in the back of my head I knew something had gone wrong, but I was just happy to have my baby in my arms and safe. Nothing else seemed to matter at the time.
The memory I have of right before I was taken out of the room seems blurry and rusty.
When I was in the operating room, I remember one of the anesthesiologists checking to make sure that I had enough pain medication coming from the epidural. I could feel her poking me, so she ended up giving me something that knocked me out completely. When I woke up, I thought that I hadn't even been put out yet and remember asking, "Am I supposed to be awake right now?" I had to get a Bakri balloon put inside me to stop the bleeding. If that didn't work, they were going to have to go in through some of the veins in my legs in order to fuse together some of the arteries going to my uterus. If that didn't work, I would have to get a hysterectomy, which means my uterus would have been taken out completely and I would no longer be able to have any kids. Quite an escalations, I thought.
Because of how much blood I lost when I hemorrhaged, I couldn't stop shaking--even though multiple warmed blankets had been put on top of me--and I was unbelievably pale. Scott said that I looked like I could have been dead in a casket I was so white. I guess the bond between mother and baby is extremely powerful, though, because the second Asher was placed beside me in my bed my shaking all of a sudden stopped. Scott told the nurses that it looked like I needed some blood. I guess the nurses decided that they needed to do some tests first before they could "officially" determine that. After drawing my blood multiple times, I ended up with four blood transfusions and some platelets. I was so glad that I had no inhibitions about receiving blood transfusions and that I live now when medical technology is so much better than what it used to be!
I also received a lot of prayers on my behalf and a priesthood blessing from Scott. I am so grateful that I had so many people looking out for me and truly believe that it is part of the reason why I was able to recover so quickly. During this experience, which was probably much more traumatic for Scott than it was for me, I know that God was looking over my little family; I feel so blessed that he is aware of me and feels that I am good enough to receive his tender mercies.
On May 21st, I was discharged from the hospital, which was actually delayed until the evening because there was another emergency taking place. However, in this particular emergency, both the mother and the baby were experiencing complications, as the baby had not yet been delivered. Our discharge nurse told us, "you guys must be the most patient couple!" I could have waited much longer and my heart ached for that mom and baby; as we were exiting the hospital, there was an ambulance out there waiting for that poor little baby and I couldn't help but cry. I'm pretty sure I cried most of the way home, actually. I'm really glad that little Asher was so healthy and experienced no complications.
Well, that's the longer, more detailed version of Asher's birth story for those who have been wanting to know. I can't believe he is already three weeks old! He is such a sweet boy and I love watching him progress. I love his little noises, his smiles while he's sleeping and his little scowly face. Being a mom is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I definitely find myself struggling with learning how to give-up so many of the things and aspects of life that once were so normal and routine. Everything seems completely different; nothing feels the same. I'm beginning to learn the true meaning of selflessness and patience, two virtues that I don't think I've ever been much good at emulating. I have so much more respect for all the parents out there. I don't know how a single parent raises a child on their own or even how two parents can raise more than one! In spite of all the hardships and down days, my little boy warms my heart and he makes me smile every time I see him and I look forward to growing and experiencing life with him!
