He's here! Garrett Dale

For the first time EVER I started labor on my own . Not being used to the natural process (as opposed to being induced three times before) I was totally surprised with the speed at which everything progressed.

I've been working on getting everything ready and just planned on being induced on Wednesday. Our brand new washer broke down last Saturday just in time for everybody to run out of clean clothes. I called Sears and they told me the soonest they could have anyone out would be Wednesday. I tried to explain that I was pregnant, overdue and scheduled to be induced on Wednesday could they PLEASE come any sooner? No sympathy.

I called again on Monday morning just to see if I could get it bumped up. I dealt entirely with the computerized operator, who surprisingly enough got someone out that afternoon! HURAY!!!

Later that evening I felt strangely nauseous after dinner and after I put the kids to be I started having tightness every 7 to 10 minutes for about an hour and a half. They never got to be painful and they stopped after we went to bed. That was OK with me because the next morning I had finally gotten a cancellation opening to see the dentist. I've been waiting a spot to open the last two weeks. I know most of the staff from church. They were surprised to see me and weren't sure I was going to make it.

I took the kids to the library for story-time afterwards where my mom and her Grandma friend (a retired midwife from England) pounced on me and tried to talk me out of inducement saying that I would surely go on my own this weekend since it was the full moon. Ironically enough I started having labor pains again...probably from the anxiety of actually contemplating waiting another five days till the full moon.

By the time we got home they were coming closer and I was having to breathe through them.

The boys both thought the Lamaze breathing was funny and started doing it too.

I figured this was just another false start, but felt like I should farm the kids out just to be sure. I called Jeremy who is still home after his daughter was born last week to see if he could drive the kids to their various destinations. Since my labors have always taken 20+ hours I just planned on laboring on my own until Michael got home from work at about 5:30 before letting him know. Contrary to my "well conceived" plan, Jeremy called Michael to tell him that I was in labor and then took me to the hospital anyway. I told him he could just drive up to the curb and kick me out, but he walked with me all the way in with me and waited until Michael arrived before leaving.

From the registration desk you could hear another mom in labor screaming. That's always what you want to hear walking into Labor and Delivery. [...shudder....]

The contractions slowed down once I got hooked up to the monitors (figures). Jeremy called Denee from the hospital. She asked how I was doing and his response was, "Oh, she's just teasing everybody. She's fine and every once in a while she'll go 'he he he he', but she's not really in labor." I knew he was teasing, but I could have kicked him.

One of the nurses asked if I had called before coming in. No. "Well, all our beds are full at the moment, we would have directed you to another hospital." I thought perhaps we could still go somewhere else, but by then I lost my plug...probably not a good idea.

There was another girl right next to me. We could hear her behind the curtain. I realized she was an unwed teenager when the nurse came in to talk to her. A contraction would hit and she would whine through it. I don't think she learned any kind of breathing technique beforehand. After one contraction she said out loud to herself, "Oh, d**n. I can't do this." The father wasn't there with her. How tragic.

Michael stopped by the house to pick up all of his gear for the expected long haul labor. In the past he's been able to watch one or two movies, had time to get something to eat and generally just waited through the lengthy process of labor.

Jeremy and I arrived at the hospital at about 1:30. When they checked me I was almost dilated to a 4. Another mom delivered and so I was put in her room at 3:30. For the next hour the nurses tried to put in the IV line. I didn't feel particularly dehydrated, but my veins were NOT cooperating.

My nurse called in two other nurses to try to get it in. Nobody had success. The contractions were coming much faster by then and my nurse felt an urgency to get the IV line in so I could get the epidural. She called an anesthesiologist to come place the line. By then it felt like the contractions were coming one right after another. They were much stronger and I really had to psych myself through them. "I'm stronger than this. I can do this. FOCUS!" My breathing sounded angry, but I got through. As the intensity increased I broke and cried for one or two.

My nurse checked me again. I had dilated to an 8. At that point I wondered if they would even let me have the epidural since I was so advanced. The doctor was starting to think that they would have to bring an ultrasound in to find a vein. However, on the third try he got the IV line in and then stayed to do the epidural while they still had a chance.

Between getting the IV and the epidural the baby's heart rate dropped from 145 to 95. It may have been because I was sitting up. My nurse had me lay back down and then switch sides until the baby's heart rate came back up.

Given my history of bad experiences with epidurals (the nurse that did the one with Elle just about killed me) I was glad that the anesthesiologist was first a doctor, and second one with plenty of experience doing epidurals. He got it in... all the while I prayed silently that my contractions would hold off just until he could finish.

The epidural went beautifully! Oh, sweet relief! I could still feel the pressure, but the pain was reduced almost entirely. My nurse emphasized that I was the luckiest lady on the floor because everybody started asking for an epidural about the same time and there was only one doctor doing them for L&D...and she was in the middle of one already. So, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise that my veins were so difficult. I probably wouldn't have gotten one at all otherwise considering how fast I progressed.

During the pressure of a following contraction I felt a swell and then burst and a gush. Again, the first time that my water has broken naturally. Kind of like a soft warm water balloon getting stepped on.

I only had about an hour of respite before the urge to push came. Michael had just come back into the room after the epidural being placed and I told him to go get the nurses...he's coming!

My nurse noticed meconium in the water and without telling me about it (probably so as not to worry us) quietly called in a Pediatric team for the baby's delivery. Thinking back on it now, he probably passed the meconium when his heart rate dropped before the epidural.

His head was perfectly round and pushing posed a larger task than it was for Elle, who I got out in two pushes (one for the head and one for the body). Despite the epidural...it hurt. It got to the point I just wanted it to be over and it didn't feel like I was making any progress but everybody kept telling me to push. Easy for you to say...you don't feel like you're splitting open.

The nurses said that he looked like a C-section baby because his head looked so perfect.

Once he was out the doctor asked Michael, "So, what's his name?"

Garrett.

"You don't sound so sure. Are we not totally in agreement about that?"

No, no. It's Garrett. His name is Garrett...Garrett Dale.

I felt a sudden rush of emotion at a final confirmation on the name. Michael has been hemming and hawing and until that moment hadn't made up his mind one way or the other. Some of his potential candidates were Aaron, Carl, or Lars.

Garrett did experience some complications with breathing...probably due to the meconium. The pediatric doctor had to assist his breathing and then took him down to the nursery for observation. I only got to hold him for a moment before they took him away.

I called my mom who was completely blindsided by the news that he was already born. Like me, she was expecting a lengthy labor and last she heard I was at a 2. That night a friend of ours from church who is a nurse in Labor and Delivery saw that I had been in and went to my nurse to ask how eveything went. My nurse told her, "It was like Mr. Toad's WILD RIDE!"

Well put.

The first day in recovery Garrett was (for lack of a better word) squeaky and snorty. His breathing sounded so labored. I kept him close to me instead of in his bassinet just so I could help him in case anything happened.

The second day his Pediatric doctor performed the circumcision and while he was away I took the opportunity to get a shower. I doubled my hospital gowns front to back and walked down to the nursery where Hunter had his done. He wasn't there, so I walked back and met my nurse in the hall who was confused where I had gone.

As soon as I got back into our room Garrett started struggling to breathe. I could see him trying to take a breath, but nothing was going in. I watched in horror as he turned blue right in front of me. I picked him up and started hitting his back and chest. I pushed the call button for the nurses, "MY BABY'S BLUE!!!" The nurse on the intercom instructed me to turn him face down over my arm and hit him on the back. I heard the emergency call go out over the speakers in the hall and three nurses came running in to the room and took over.

He pinked up again and they checked his vitals. I stood watching...shaking, with tears in my eyes. What if I had been asleep when this had happened? I would have lost my baby.

Garrett's pediatric doctor came to check on him after the circumcision and I told him what had happened. He checked him over and then said that it was acid reflux from the sugar water they gave during the circumcision to help calm him. It was strictly a post circumcision event and would not likely happen again. That was a relief...

I experienced exactly what I saw Garrett do a few weeks ago. I woke up and couldn't breathe. Michael heard me, but figured I was just coughing and went back to sleep. It took a while but with deliberate breaths I worked myself through the blockage and a horrible bile in my windpipe. It was scary because at the time I didn't know what had happened or why. It was 2 o'clock in the morning and after I got everything clear I went and sat on the couch to check if the baby was still OK.

Michael brought the kids in to meet their new brother the next morning after Garrett was born. They were all very excited and were impatient for their turn holding him. Elle was the most exuberant and when it was her turn she hugged him really tight.

We went home the third day. Garrett is breathing much better, which is a big relief. The boys spent the second night at a sleepover at Grandma's with all their cousins who are still in town. After Michael picked us up from the hospital we drove up to Gram's house to retrieve the boys and to show off the baby.

As for me, I'm still in the process of recovery. Every day is a little better, but you forget the overwhelming exhaustion and hurt from the waist down as everything tries to go back to "normal".

After each of our other children, Michael and I have always talked about the next one. This time I'm about 95% sure we're done. Four is good. Between Michael and I we can still hold everybody's hand. One thing is for sure, however...we're not having any more until we get a bigger house.