Darien's Birth Story

Wednesday evening was book club. I was having irregular but stronger contractions through the meeting. I really thought I might have the baby that night, but I didn't. Thursday afternoon Michael, Trevor, and mom chased the chickens around the chicken yard and I put medicine on their backs where they kept picking out their feathers. After all the running around that evening I thought maybe I would go into labor that night. But I did not. My parents took the kids to the Olsen family reunion Friday morning. It was so quiet in the house with just me, Michael, and the cat. I took as many guilt-free naps as I wanted in between tidying up my bedroom and getting things ready for the baby. Friday evening Michael took me to "Go West" at the theater in Rexburg. It was very funny and enjoyable. Then we found an amazing Hawaiian grill for dinner. It was really nice to go on a date and even better that the kids/possibly exasperated grandparents weren't waiting for us to return home. The hotel the kids/grandparents stayed at had a pool and the plan was to swim for an hour before bedtime. Unfortunately the pool was closed that night. My mom found an aquatic center similar to Osbourne in Corvallis and they played there for a couple of hours. We face-timed them to say goodnight. The next day Michael and I went on another date. We went to the library to check out the disc version of an audio book we had been listening to on the phone, but which had expired. Then we walked though the Japanese garden by the falls where I had told Michael we were pregnant at Christmastime. I wanted to walk through the farmers market but was too tired and cramping too much, so we headed to Walgreens to get a prescription and a few baby/postpartum items we still needed. They didn't have everything we wanted at Walgreens so we stopped at Winco. I love going to the grocery store with Michael. It was our only "date" for a lot of our early marriage. We didn't get a cart or a basket, limiting ourselves to only what we could carry so we didn't get carried away. When we got home I got the living room tidied in between naps. I was in full-on nesting mode. I wanted the house to be clean for the baby, since it felt like he would be a guest (although that's silly because he already lived here for several months and wouldn't notice if it was clean or dirty). But more than that, I wanted it to be clean for myself. I love returning home to a tidy house after being away and I knew it would help reduce postpartum depression to have things start out orderly and in control.  

Sunday we went to church and I had contractions on the piano bench. Not enough to make me need to stop, but they were a bit distracting. I got the kitchen in order that afternoon and went through all the loose papers and random items in the boy's desk drawers. I was surprised by the number of rocks I discovered and I was delighted and chagrined by how many years of raising boys lay ahead of me. 

Monday morning I decided to take a shower but couldn't bear the state of the tub. So I scrubbed the tub the best I could with my big belly in the way and the fact that I could hardly fit in it when I crouched down to get the bottom of the tub. After my shower I started going through the boys toys, looking for broken toys to get rid of and small choke-able things to put in a box for later.  I timed my contractions and found they were about 13 minutes apart. Still not the strong, active labor kind, but I had to stop what I was doing for a minute and breathe through them a little. I decided to lay down for a while and see if they slowed down. I felt a little better after laying down for an hour or so and decided to keep working on the kids toys. I started timing the contractions again. I didn't get far before I realized that I should prioritize what I worked on and thought of all the other things I had planned to get done around the house in case I was going into labor. Those contractions were getting closer together and a little stronger. I decided I should focus on organizing the kitchen drawers instead, so I got up and dumped everything out on the counter. As I worked, the contractions went to 4 minutes apart and I was really having to lean on the counter and breathe through them. Just before 1 PM I told Michael we should get ready to leave for the hospital. While he packed a few things I frantically organized the drawers in between contractions. I quickly got the cat food and water and thought of a million other things I needed to do before we could leave. I had some laundry in the washer and it still had about 30 minutes left. We debated waiting to put it in the dryer before we left, but since Ruby came so fast and we had been encouraged not to wait too long to leave, we decided to go and worry about the laundry later. The contractions slowed down significantly. I was discouraged. I wasn't eager to be in hard labor and deliver the baby. It still felt like he wasn't entirely real and like the pregnancy was going to permanent. I was mostly concerned that nothing was actually happening and I would get everyone all excited for nothing again. At the hospital we decided to park in the parking garage and walk instead of parking at the curb. I hoped that walking would get things going again. 

I had to pause a few times between the car and the L&D desk to lean against the wall and breathe through a contraction. We got checked in to the delivery room and the nurse checked my cervix. I had been at 3 cm 60% the week before. I was so worried she would say something like "that's weird, you went from a 3 to a 2" but I was at 5 cm 80%. She called the doctor and they agreed that I should stay at the hospital. It wasn't going to be the doctor I had seen through my pregnancy and had planned on for the delivery. That was a little disappointing, but I was relieved that it was a doctor I had seen for a non stress test after hearing irregular heartbeats during an iron infusion. I liked Dr. O'Rourke. He had moved from Eugene a few years before for many of the same reasons we moved here. We'd had a nice chat and I felt like we had good rapport and I could be comfortable with him attending the delivery.  

The delivery room

She got my IV started and I was grateful that I didn't have a lingering pain in the vein like most of the IVs for the iron transfusions. I had her put it in my forearm instead of my hand because the last two times it went in my hand I had a vagal response and I didn't want to pass out during labor. 

My contractions were still farther apart than they were at home and I was worried the labor would stall or become irregular like it did with Ammon. After she left I got up and did the cha-cha and tried to remember some of the Zumba dance steps we had done at the class my mom and I had been going to. I leaned on the arm of the sofa or against the beautiful wooded cabinets that hid all the medical supplies and breathed through contractions. Then I got back to it, stomping around and shaking my hips to try to get labor in gear. It still didn't feel like I was really going to have the baby that day, but I also didn't want to go home pregnant and feeling defeated. The doctor was going to come check on me at 4:30. I asked if he could break my water if the baby's head was low enough. I avoided interventions as much as possible with the other kids. The midwife who helped me with Ammon's delivery had a really hard time convincing me to let her break my water. I finally agreed and he was born four minutes later. I was hoping something similar would happen this time. 

He broke my water and lots of yellow fluid gushed out. They said it looked like there was some meconium in it so they let the NICU and respiratory therapy know just in case. After breaking my water the doctor said he was going to run over to Target to pick up and order but he would come right back and stay nearby. He seemed to think the baby would be coming within the next couple hours, which was encouraging. When I got up off the bed the pressure from the baby without the water bag made the contractions go into a higher gear. I felt like the ocean was contained in my pelvis, with roaring waves crashing with each contraction. I tried to relax and allow them open my cervix. I spent most of the labor with my knees on one of the couch cushions on the floor and my head an chest pressed against the bed. The stupid hospital gown felt like it kept getting in the way. It was a much quieter labor than the others I've had. I didn't feel out of control or out of my head. For a few of the contractions I sat on a birthing ball and leaned against Michael, his arms around me. It was very tender. He was an excellent and attentive birth partner, always ready when I reached out to grasp his hand. More and more of the yellow fluid leaked out with each contraction. I couldn't believe how much there was! And it kept coming! 

I knew I was in transition when I started thinking and saying "This is stupid. I want to go home. I don't want to have a baby anymore." I kept looking at the clock thinking "5:30?! I should have had him by now. I've been in labor since 1!" I thought I was going to have Darien in the car, since Quin's was 12 hours, Ammon's was 8 hours, and Ruby's was 2.5 hours. It seemed like if my labors kept getting shorter at that rate I would only have about 30 minutes for this guy. 

I vaguely felt the desire to start pushing so I had Michael push the call button on the bed. Dr. O'Rourke checked me and said I was at 9.5 cm and could start pushing. I didn't want to go through another contraction. I had planned to deliver on my hands and knees or leaning over the bed like I had with Ruby. I was sitting upright in the bed after the cervical check and was so exhausted I didn't think I could get up. I started to push and felt it as his head slowly lowered. I didn't want to deliver this way, the way you always see it on TV with the mother on her back. But I couldn't move into a different position and couldn't fight the coaching from the doctor and nurse. Two or three other people had entered the room. I didn't know who they were or why but I was too delirious with pain to give them much attention. With each contraction I thought "This is it. I'm going to push him out this time and it will be over and I'll immediately feel better." It took maybe 4 pushes before I felt him crowning. I wanted to pull back against the pain. So sharp and intense around the whole circle where his head was. The coaching was invaluable and kept me going in spite of the urge to pull his head back in. I felt the head slide out during a monumental push. My eyes were closed. I could only feel the pain, my left hand gripping the bed rail, and the right hand clinging to Michael's. They told me to wait, but that was physically impossible. My mind had been in charge of pushing out the head but my body took over and instinctively pushed out the rest of him. The nurse told me to look down at my baby. It took me a minute to get through the shock and open my eyes again. The first thing I noticed was the color yellow. He was covered in gooey yellow stuff. It made his hair look blonde. Then I realized, it was blonde! I had a blonde baby! He was sticky and slimy and I awkwardly held him to my chest, trying not to let him slip out of my arms. He didn't cry very much. He let out an indignant protesting yelp when he came out, but after that it was mostly cute baby sounds. He was so calm and alert. He looked around the room and we got to see his beautiful, piecing sapphire (almost violet) eyes. They wiped him off with a towel and helped me get the hospital gown off for skin to skin. He was very wiggly and it didn't take long for his skin to turn a bright healthy pink. The doctor handed Michael the scissors and he cut the cord. They started pitocin to help me deliver the placenta. The placenta delivery was not as unpleasant as the others, but still uncomfortable. I only needed two stitches, which the doctor quickly put in. I thought of asking Michael to take the baby while the stitches were going in. I was trying not to squeeze him during the burning pain of the numbing shot or the discomfort of feeling the thread being tugged. Once it was done and the contractions melted away I felt better. Much better than I had felt in months. Michael asked about the special song I had picked for Darien and if I was going to sing it. I waited until the doctor and nurses and whoever else had been there left and it was just the three of us. I sang him "Always Remember" and then "I Will Be What I Believe." I was grateful to the senior primary kids for insisting that we sing that song. I really like it and I only learned it so I could play it in primary, but I was thankful I got to share it with my newborn son in the first hour of his life. I think I held him for over an hour. 

About an hour after delivery

The nurse came in and asked if I wanted to take a bath and I was very eager. Michael could hardly wait to hold his newest son. It melted my heart to see him hold Darien skin to skin and speak softly and tenderly to him. I had a really nice soak in the bath. I asked Michael to bring the baby in. I didn't want to be separated from him and I wanted to keep gazing at him. I got dressed and we walked to the recovery room. They asked if I wanted a wheelchair, but I declined. I felt well enough to go for a walk outside. 

Recovery Room

We got a delicious dinner that I ate with some difficulty as I nursed Darien and tried not to drip food on him. He really seemed to like to nurse. I nursed him once an hour at least and from 11 PM to midnight he nursed the entire hour. I was starting to worry that I would never have a chance to sleep. 

He did end up sleeping for about six hours, but for me the first night was long and I didn't get much sleep. I could hear the nurses talking and laughing loudly all night. The air conditioner vent was right above me, constantly blowing cold air. I could feel and hear some water in my ear from the bath. The pillows and bed didn't feel comfortable no matter how much I adjusted them. We could hear other babies screaming and I was thankful for our calm and quiet little one. 

This was my first hospital birth. The other three were at birth centers in Oregon. I wanted to try a home birth this time but I had a nagging feeling in the middle of the night that I should have him at the hospital. Insurance wouldn't cover the birth center here in Idaho. Having a baby at the hospital felt like having a baby at a hotel. It was nice, very clean, all of our needs were met, but a bit impersonal. The birth center was more like a cozy bed and breakfast run by a family friend. 

I finally dozed off early in the morning. The next day Michael's parents came to visit. They were our only visitors since the kids and Dodge grandparents were driving home from Oregon. I was so glad they came and loved seeing the look on Susan's face as she held, talked to, and breathed in her youngest grandchild. I was looking forward to watching my mom meet him. The Brewster grandparents had been in Utah for Sara's baptism and they weren't sure if they would meet Darien during the trip because they needed to be home soon. He came just in time and they were able to stop by before going to the airport to welcome Michael's cousin's son home from the military. 

We decided to go home that evening. I was looking forward to sleeping in a comfortable bed again. We finally left the hospital at 8:30 PM. He woke up to nurse about every 2 or 3 hours. It was another long night. I had planned to have him sleep in the crib and get used to the idea of sleeping there, but eventually I gave up when he woke up 20 minutes after being laid down every time and I let him sleep in my arms. I was glad he was so good at nursing and we figured out how to nurse laying down in bed, which gave me some much needed rest. 

My parents and kids got home at 5:30 pm the next day. Ruby burst through the door and said "where's that cute little baby?" She instantly fell in love and kept exulting in his cuteness. "Look at his cute little ears! Look at his cute little nosie! Look at his cute little shoulders!" She instantly loved everything about him. Ammon had the biggest gap-toothed grin on his face when my mom laid him in his lap to hold for the first time. Quin watched from a distance. The first thing he said was "this is going to change my life. Forever." 

I sat down on the computer chair and Ruby rushed over with a pillow to put behind my back. Ammon dashed to the kitchen and brought back an applesauce and a plastic spoon. "Here, you can feed this to the baby." I had to explain about breastfeeding and told him he could try applesauce when he's about 5 months old. It was so sweet and thoughtful of them, trying to anticipate and meet our needs.   

Hi Grandma!

A little while later Quin asked me where the baby came out of my body. I reached for my handy A&P textbook from college and showed him the page about labor and delivery. He seemed hopeful that I would have more babies after this. I told him I wasn't going to have anymore and he asked "so, does that mean you aren't going to kiss dad ever again?" I explained about the hysterectomy I have planned and that brought on another discussion of female anatomy and mensuration. Quin is ever the pensive, logical, left brained child. Always curious and thoughtful, always needing to know exactly how and why things work.

After about an hour of joyful meeting, Quin said "I'm so overwhelmed. This is so much responsibility." He has been very protective of Darien, scolding Ruby for pushing his swing too hard and touching him when he's sleeping. 

We are over joyed to have Darien join our family. We chose Curtis as a middle name. I feel the need to explain to Darien that he's not here to replace the Curtis we lost three and a half years ago. We gave him the name to honor the brother/son/uncle we miss. Having Darien join our family is a sweet reminder that no matter how black the night we find ourselves in, dawn and a bright new day will always come. You are our beacon of hope for the future, Darien. A great comfort to our family. Already a beloved brother, cherished grandson, and precious son.