Introducing Isaiah

It's been more than three weeks since our little Isaiah entered the world, so I figured I should blog his birth story sooner rather than later, or else risk losing the memories to the chasm of sleep deprivation. Also, it's taken me 3+ attempts and the loss of most of what I had written, so here goes nothing.

When we found out we were pregnant and our general due date, I began hoping for a "fun" birth date for this little one. At least one that was easy to remember (5/10/15 or 5/15/15 sounded good!). When I hit 37 weeks, I began having prodromal labor (labor that mimics real labor and contractions, but never actually results in a baby). It kind of killed my dreams of a 5/10/15 or 5/15/15 birth date, but honestly, I was happy to think I wasn't going to be pregnant much longer. Between the weight gain, exhaustion, aches and pains and general inability to be the mom I wanted to be to Selah, I was done. SO DONE. However, pregnancy lasted nearly the full 40 weeks, with me waking up 5/14/15 - 2 days shy of my  due date - with legitimate contractions.

I got up at 7 and began putting the final touches on my hospital bag and trying to figure out if I should cancel the photo shoot Selah and I were going to do that morning. I was having contractions the whole time, but was so leery about saying "This is it," after the weeks of false labor. About 4 hours in to contractions, they were getting more painful and more regular, so I called the shoot and told Adrian we needed to plan to head to the hospital. First (priorities!) we needed food. I made the mistake last time of not eating before we checked into the hospital and so after a 19-hour labor and only liquids and one Greek yogurt - I was HANGRY. I wasn't going to make that mistake again! We (A, Selah, myself and A's mom who was in town to help) went to the Denver Biscuit Company and I stuffed myself on The Franklin. It's a biscuit, stuff with a fried chicken breast, bacon and cheese and covered in sausage gravy. Heart health was clearly one of my top concerns ;)

After lunch, I made A get me to the hospital as I sat crunched over with more painful contractions. I was so worried when we checked in I wouldn't be dilated enough for them to admit me, but about 2 pm, once I had changed into some more appropriate labor clothes, they found I was 5 cm dilated.

At that point, there was some concern over whether or not the baby had a hand or something up next to his/her head. There was a funny bulge next to the head, they said, but weren't too worried. We passed a few hours laboring in the tub, on the birthing ball and moseying around the room. By 6 pm, I was already getting tired and though I was at 8 cm, felt like I was going to need to rest for what I felt would be a much longer night. The anesthesiologist came in and gave me a much-needed epidural and for several hours, I "labored" in relative ease. I had my oils diffusing, was sniffing peppermint for nausea (that biscuit may have been a bad idea), and I was applying Clary Sage to keep my labor progressing. All the while, we were hanging out, watching The Office, eating ice chips (me) and talking to the nurses and doctors.

At some point, they began to get concerned over the fact that the baby's head wasn't really dropping and I wasn't progressing past 9cm. The "hand" they felt next to the baby's head could be the umbilical cord, putting him or her at risk if they were to descend any further. They began saying they wanted to either break my water and see if the cord was prolapsed or give me Pitocin to try and speed things up. I opposed both and requested to keep laboring, hopefully in a more upright position. The nurses and doctors kept lying me back and rolling me from side to side because the baby's heartbeat was decelerating and they wanted to get it stabilized.

All of a sudden, there was talk about an emergency c-section and the nurse anesthetist was in there and ready to wheel me out. Adrian and I talked and stalled and finally convinced them to not do a c-section but to break my water and see if we could put an internal heartbeat monitor on the baby. They broke my water, no cord prolapse, and put the heartbeat monitor on. The heartbeat stabilized for a little bit, and then they said there was meconium in the water - a sure sign of fetal distress. Amid (what felt like) a panic attack and so much crying and shivering and heart racing and freaking out, I told A we needed to go ahead and do the c-section. If there was meconium in the water, I knew (from having recently watched Jill Dillard's birth story) we needed to get baby out ASAP.

A few minutes later, I was wheeled into the OR, Adrian was beside me in scrubs and I was being prepped. I was still shivering and freaking out, but the doctor said, "Here we go," and literally seconds later - I heard the beautiful cry of my child. It was 12:01am on 5/15/15. Adrian told me it was a boy, the baby was held up over the curtain for just a second for me to see, and then he was carted away. Adrian alternately sat with me and checked on our son, who he said was really blue. I was so out of it I didn't really register his color or the fact that I didn't get to hold him right away, as I had requested.

Holding my son for the first time.

It wasn't until later in the recovery/transitional room, when they brought our son in, that I learned that there was umbilical cord wrapped around his neck four times. That's what caused his heart rate to decelerate. That's why he wouldn't drop. That's why he was so blue when they pulled him from me, and that's why there had been a very real danger of brain damage or death. Thankfully, his APGAR scores were normal, his hearing screen was great and he has been the greediest little eater.

We named him Isaiah Justice. Although I'm still in a fog and don't fully understand or remember everything that happened that night, I am so grateful that the Lord didn't exact his justice on our family, but rather, in His mercy, gave us a giant miracle baby. Isaiah was 8lbs and 13oz and 21" long. Although I hadn't wanted medical interventions and I resisted the c-section, I am so thankful for the work of the team of doctors and nurses who cared for me and Isaiah that night. Without their insistence on a c-section, this could be a very different birth story. We're so grateful it turned out the way it did.

One week old. Holding his head this way because it's how the cord had him wrapped in the womb.