Emerson's birth story.

For months I've been intending to type up Emmie’s birth story to have for my own keeping, so I can always look back and remember all the little details of that special day. And my intent was to put it in her memory box and keep it for myself, but since our blog serves as a journal of our lives I figured it was only appropriate to put it on here.

So here it goes, from the beginning. Our lives changed a year ago from today for the better. On January 1, 2013 we learned that I was pregnant with #3. I was feeling a little off and I just had a strong feeling that I was pregnant. Sure enough, those 2 magical pink lines appeared.

Although I didn’t tell anyone, I had a pretty strong suspicion that I was growing a little girl before we found out ‘it’ was a ‘she’. While I didn’t feel horrible, it was definitely a tougher pregnancy than I had with the boys, filled with lots of headaches, nausea, acne, anxiety issues, etc., however I tried not to look into the differences as signs. Whenever anyone asked what I thought ‘it’ was, I always said boy (in hindsight, I think I was mentally preparing myself for the idea of 3 boys).  On April 24, my hunches were confirmed and the ultrasound tech said those 3 magical words, “It’s a GIRL!” and of course I burst into some serious tears of joy.

The second half of the pregnancy was good, easy (aside from being crazy tired). I felt better, I worked out, I bought lots of pink and had a blast getting the nursery ready.

Knowing it was likely that this baby wasn't going to come early, following the boys’ birth schedules, I tried not to get anxious/excited about the idea of an early (or even on time) delivery.  But as with the boys, all signs pointed to this baby coming early as my body was in baby prep mode. Well September 10 came & went. And as much as I wanted to go into labor on my own for the first time with this babe, I went into my 40 week check-up desperate to be in induced, however my OB insisted we give it another week. Lovely. The days passed and I grew more and more uncomfortable and irritable with people wanting to talk about me still being pregnant. 

Then September 14^th came. My lower back hurt, I was having mild contractions all day and I was exhausted (more than normal). Again I remember having a hunch that maybe today is the day but tried not to get myself too excited because there were several other days when I thought “today is the day.” And I didn't say anything to Ian, aside from telling him that morning how bad my lower back hurt, because I didn't want to get him too worked up. It was just like any other Saturday filled with soccer, soccer pictures, etc. and then a nightly walk around the block. Ian was upstairs getting the boys ready for bed and I downstairs picking up the house. It was 8 pm and something didn't feel right so I went to the bathroom to discover I was bleeding, a lot. I knew immediately that this wasn't good, nor normal, so I yelled upstairs to Ian that we needed to go to the hospital right away. The next 15 minutes of attempting to get out of the house with two kids who were just tucked into bed was total chaos, but I knew we didn't have time to get someone to the house to watch them, so we’d have to take them with us. Ian threw them in the car (in their jammies), grabbed some shoes for them to take, grabbed a partially packed hospital bag for me (nothing for him), I wrapped a towel around me and we were off.

I was terrified and trying to will my baby to move inside me so I knew she was ok and the boys were scared cause of course they couldn't understand why mom was so scared and bleeding. Not exactly how I envisioned going into labor. As we were heading to the hospital, we first tried calling my parents to meet us at the hospital… no answer.  My sister… no answer.  My OB at home... no answer. I finally sent a frantic text message to my mom and sis for someone to call me ASAP and my sister called right back. After totally blanking on how to call the on call OB I finally got ahold of the clinic dispatcher and left a message for the an OB to call me.  After what felt like the longest drive ever to the hospital (which kind of was since we got stuck in construction traffic on the bridge & then a fiesta in the park traffic) we made it to the hospital at 8:30. Right as we pulled in, the on-call doc called me back, calmed me down and told me they would be waiting for me. Ian, the boys & myself (wrapped in a towel that was now covered in blood) rushed into the emergency room. They asked a few questions and then whisked me away in a wheelchair, with Ian and the boys racing to keep up. I remember a huge feeling of relief when we got up to the OB floor and I saw the doc on-call (Dr. Utley) standing there waiting for me.

 

I put on a gown, was admitted, and as soon as we got settled my contractions began picking up and I started losing a TON of blood and clots. It was such a blessing we got to the hospital when we did. At this point I was dilated to a 5. I was in labor and was having a placenta abruption. Fortunately, shortly after arriving my sis & Rick came to be with the boys followed by my parents a little later.The monitors showed baby still had a good heartbeat and labor appeared to be moving really fast, therefore the OB was going to let me deliver her vaginally as long as things progressed rapidly vs. the alternative of a emergency C-section. I told the OB my only plans for the labor were 1) I wanted my baby on my chest right after she was born and 2) I wanted to try and do it naturally. And at that moment, the fear of my baby’s health being in jeopardy became a reality. My heart sunk when the doc told me that getting her on my chest probably wasn't going to be possible cause the condition of the baby when she came out was unknown. They had called in the on-call pediatrician to be there for the delivery since there was a chance she was going to come out anemic or she’d be without oxygen.

My contractions soon kicked into high gear and I was in tremendous pain. More so than I remembered with the boys. The pain in my back became unbearable so I asked my OB if he could call in an anesthesiologist for an epidural. Unfortunately, because of my situation I needed to get the baby out ASAP and he was worried an epidural would slow down labor, so it was a no. Awesome. And then he proceeded to tell me that baby girl was “sunnyside up” (her head was face up vs. face down) which is why the pain was so much more intense. He attempted to flip her with no success. Labor continued to progress rapidly, there was very little “down time” in between contractions and by 10:20 I remember an immense feeling of pressure and the need to push. I knew I needed to get her out but I was also terrified cause I hadn't prepared myself for the “what ifs”. I had only envisioned myself with the typical labor (which turned out being far from that) and a healthy baby. After 4-5 pushes at 10:28 p.m. our sweet little baby girl came out screaming which was the most amazing sound in the world.

She was healthy, thank you God, and after a quick once over by the pediatrician she was put on my chest. She got a 9 on her Apgar test and just to prove her good health, she continued to scream for about 3 hours straight after her birth. God is good.