Ian: A Birth Story

Tomorrow my baby is a month old, so I find myself in this awkward place where I should have written my son's birth story a long time ago. I have written it down already in his journal (more on that another day), but I wanted to share it here because it's a beautiful story, really. Plus, there are some people who I love and blogs are unfortunately the only way we stay connected, and I want you all to be on the in with how Ian Timothy Cook came into this world.

My due date was Thursday, November 6. Leading up to the day I kept thinking that every contraction (probably just Braxton Hicks) was the beginning of labor. When my due date came and went with no change I was really disappointed. Everyone told me first babies are always late, that I should plan for an extra week at least. Tom and I had started talking about having an induced labor because it would be so much more convenient what with his school schedule, my mom already being out west, and family not having to take off any work to come meet our boy. I called my doctor and they scheduled an appointment for Friday, November 7 to see if I was far enough along to be induced. When I went in, nothing had changed: for three weeks now I had been dilated to a 1 and 50% effaced. The appointment overall was a terrible experience and Tom wasn't with me and I did NOT like the doctor and they kept me there forever and I was already really emotional and my phone died so I couldn't complain to Tom or update him on what they were doing and, and, and. It was not a very good day. Tom showed up at the doctor's office in time for them to do an ultrasound to make sure baby was okay (this doctor was convinced every time I saw him that there must be something wrong with the baby since I was so small my whole pregnancy). I wasn't expecting him, and it was such a relief to see him there. He drove me home after and surprised me with TACO BELL. Bless you, Tommy Ray. Long story short, I was not in a place to be induced unless I wanted to run a high risk of c-section. We scheduled an appointment for Monday, November 10 and would reevaluate then.

We decided to (try) not worry about it, to just take this whole experience as it comes. We made plans to go to the temple that night, something that was long overdue I'm ashamed to say. We bought ingredients to make homemade pretzels, complete with salsa con queso to dip them in.

At 5 we were walking into the temple and I felt pain, a different kind of pain. Not just a tightening of my stomach, but like a menstrual cramp kind of thing. I told Tom that this was a different kind of feeling and we thought "hey that's cool". While we did sealings, I had 2 more of those. Then we went to the store, and I had a few more as we walked around. By the time we got home to make pizza and pretzels, I had talked to my mom and confirmed that these probably weren't Braxton Hicks anymore, downloaded a contraction timer app, and began timing every one. It was awfully exciting, but we were trying not to get too excited, I was still feeling a little fragile, ya know? By the time we finished watching Stardust, my contractions were coming consistently 5-7 minutes apart. I didn't want to go to bed, I wanted to walk to China and back to help keep this going! But we did go to bed, and I didn't sleep much since I was waking up to time the contractions. Somewhere around 3 am they died down, and by the time we got up at 7 they were so few and far between I stopped keeping track. Again, I was disappointed. We went to the Biggest Winner Team Challenge, which was really fun! It was a good distraction.

Later that day we decided to go to the gym and I was determined to have contractions again. My Mom decided to not fly home that day (Saturday, Nov 8) but to come to Idaho, just in case. At the gym, I wasn't necessarily trying to be careful, but I was still smart. And the whole time I walked/biked/ellipticalled (is that a word?!) I was praying for contractions to come back. They did, boy they came back! They weren't super consistent, but they were more intense. We made plans to meet Mom in Idaho Falls to do some grocery shopping, and as I got ready to go I was getting more excited because gosh these hurt, and this seemed more like the real thing.

Side note here: being in labor is NOTHING like the movies. I mean, it would be really nice if the contractions just all of a sudden hit and your water gushes out 1 minute later and 20 minutes you're at the hospital screaming "GIVE ME THE JUICE" and 5 minutes after you're pushing and after 3 good pushes boom you've got yourself a baby. If only, if only.

So we drove to Idaho Falls, timing contractions and having to remind myself to breathe through some of them. It was SO good to see my Mom, I don't think I've ever been so relieved to see my Mom in my life! I think it was just knowing that she's what I would consider an expert laborer/deliverer/mother, and it was nice to have her there even though I didn't realize completely what was going on. We shopped at Sam's club, then Winco. When we got back to Rexburg, the woman we live with had her family over (we're talking 45/50 people here) so we decided to go out to eat and catch a movie. We ate at Ramires', which I wouldn't recommend to anyone, We went to see "The Giver", which I would recommend to everyone. We came home and talked for a while, then went to bed. Read: not sleep. My contractions were coming stronger and stronger, though not consistently. At 3:30 am Tom and I turned on the light and gave up on trying to get sleep - I was audibly breathing through my contractions and it was keeping Tom up, so we turned on an episode of Biggest Loser.

When we got up for the day, we went for a walk. It was a beautiful morning! We came home and I still wasn't having consistent contractions, so we decided to go to church. That didn't last long, we took the sacrament and made it through one talk before I asked if we could leave, my contractions were really hurting me and I was having a hard time keeping quiet about it! So we went home and tried to take a nap (Tom slept in the other room so I wouldn't keep him up again haha). That wasn't very successful on my part. I talked with my mom and we decided to call the nurse to see if I should go in. At this point I still didn't think I was in "labor", per se. I didn't think I was going to have a baby that day. As far as I knew, I was still dilated to a 1 and 50% effaced, like I had been for three weeks. The nurse was hesitant to say I should go in because my contractions were inconsistent and I could still "walk" through my contractions (it was really more of a slow waddle). In fact, she only said to go in once I told her about some brighter blood I had experienced that morning, and she said getting checked wouldn't hurt. I asked Tom for a blessing, which was very special. I am so grateful for the strength that Tom was throughout this whole thing! I couldn't have done it without him. The delivery of our son was such a sacred, bonding experience for us.

Tom and I walked to the hospital because that had been a goal of mine from the very beginning - to walk to the hospital to have the baby. I still didn't think I was going to have him, but it was a beautiful day so we though "why not?". Mom drove over with our stuff, and when we got there, it was almost completely vacant, so I got right in. They hooked me up and asked me a bunch of questions, and then checked me. Lo and behold, I was dilated to a 7 and nearly completely effaced! That was such a relief to hear, that the pain I had been going through wasn't for nothing!

Everything happened so fast...they called the doctor out of church (I LOVED my doctor!) and he broke my water, which was an interesting experience. Not what I was expecting. Then the contractions started coming quicker and stronger. After a while I requested an epidural, which took a long time to get. The anesthesiologist also was called out of church to help me, but I guess he didn't get the page for a while. I was delirious with pain at this point, but it was such a joyful thing to go through! Nonetheless, when the anesthesiologist came in and told me he hadn't gotten the page for a while, everyone else said something along the lines of "oh that's okay!" but I said "Don't say that, don't say those kinds of things to me!" Yeah, I was not exactly myself at the time. The epidural was fantastic, and soon I was numb and happy as a clam. A birthing clam.

All of a sudden, it was time to push. They could already see baby's hair, which I thought meant he was practically here. Baby was posterior, meaning his body was turned so his head was looking to the side, not down as is ideal for delivery. They tried to turn him, but he kept turning back, so we decided to just roll with it. Unfortunately, baby wasn't recovering between contractions as well as they would have wanted, so they put an oxygen mask on me. I didn't realize all that was going on, which I'm grateful for. The doctor never told me that the baby was in a bit of danger, but at one point the doctor said "I need you to listen to me", and I knew I had better tune in good. He told me it was all up to me, that we needed to get the baby out now. I prayed for extra strength, because honestly, I couldn't feel anything down there and as far as I knew, I was pushing the best that I could! But the next few pushes did feel different, and they worked very well.

Within a few more pushes, they helped my baby out and laid him on my stomach. That was an indescribable moment that I replay in my head every day. He was the most beautiful thing, even purple and covered in goop as he was. Tom cut the umbilical cord, and they took him away to clean him up. Listening to him cry was so surreal, I couldn't believe he was finally here! The doctor stitched me up (they had to do a small epesiotomy (sp??) and I had a couple of other tears) and they brought me dinner - chicken tenders and tater tots, oh yeah! Soon Ian, as we officially decided to call him, was back in my arms. We had some skin to skin time and he immediately ate very well.

The whole time, that whole evening, was so surreal. I felt like I was in heaven, I had my sweet Ian, and my incredible husband with me. I could not have asked for a better delivery. Ian was perfectly healthy, and except for the biggest cone head known to mankind and a nasty hematoma from being stuck in the birth canal, there was nothing wrong. My dreams had come true, I was a mother.

7 lbs 10 ozs, 21 inches long, my beautiful baby arrived at 5:41 pm on Sunday, November 9th. I couldn't be happier.

I was so grateful to have my mom there for the whole thing. I love my mom so much! Tom's mom and sister came up that night to meet Ian and left the next morning, we have the greatest support from the best family!

If you made it this far, I congratulate you! This was quite the novel. I'll keep trying to play catch up because the last month has been quite the whirlwind!