Isaac's Birth Story

SUNDAY, JULY 22

Sun 3pm: I am baking pies for a luau when I notice my usual contractions getting stronger. I’m electrified: cleaning everything in sight, re-packing our hospital bags, thinking about calling Josh to come home... Then they subside, so we go to the luau instead of the hospital.

Sun night: I toss and turn, dreaming I’m in labor. It doesn’t seem to work.

MONDAY, JULY 23

Mon morning: All is quiet on the belly front. I've never been early. Guess I’m in for another week.

Mon 6:15pm: Josh comes straight home after clinic to find the boys decked out as a race-car driver and "spider-man." We eat pizza and play board games (“chess” and “Cars”) on the family room floor. 

 

Which is where my water breaks.   

Mon 7:35pm: We are just putting the games away to take the boys up to bed when I feel the classic and shocking "gush." Josh runs to get towels as I reassure the boys that my insides are not leaking out. Aaron is concerned, but Noah is ecstatic - ecstatic - saying, "Yea, Mommy's gonna have a baby! Yea, Mommy!"

Josh loads the hospital bags and boys (including one race-car driver) into the van while I grab another towel and try to assure myself that I cannot be misinterpreting this, right? No more false alarms?

Mon 8pm: Then it’s off to the neighbors’, where we deposit the boys for my brother and sister-in-law to pick up at 8:30pm. (When I asked Noah about their time at the Corbins', he wanted to make sure I noted that they "got to watch TV!") Meanwhile, Josh and I head to the hospital, calling parents along the way.

Mon 8:30pm: Once there, my dear doctor husband who works at this hospital gets lost in the parking garage. When we make it to the maternity ward, they are full and send us (with kind apologies) to the waiting room. There I pace, worry that the contractions are not building, turn on HGTV, FB/text with friends, and marvel at the next laborer to roll in with her sixth on the way.

Mon 9pm: We get a triage room and they confirm my water has broken (whew!) and I am at 2cm (ugh). Then we move to a Labor & Delivery room where we meet my new best friend for the night: Andrea, a super-sweet nurse, midwife-to-be, and clone of my dear friend Liz P.

Over the next couple hours, I change into the classy hospital gown, hook up to monitors, have an extensive debrief with the anesthesiology resident (NO SPINALS, please), walk the halls with Josh, eat popsicles and jello and chicken broth, and wait for my irregular contractions to get their act together.

Mon 12 midnight: No dice, so Josh tells his parents they might as well crash at their hotel for the night while he curls up in a cot next to my bed. I pretend to sleep as the mild contractions continue every 6-8 minutes.

TUESDAY, JULY 24

Tues 3am: A resident tells us it’s time to start Pitocin to jumpstart my progress. I’m hesitant, having just read a Consumer Reports article recommending fewer interventions, so I suggest we go for a walk to see if that does the trick. She replies, “Sure – Have a great walk, come back in 30minutes, and then we’ll start the Pitocin.” Seems the risk of infection is a greater consideration than the risk of disregarding Consumer Reports.

Tues 3:30am: Alas the walk has had no effect, so they start the Pitocin at “2” and crank it up to “8” over the next 3 hours. It has an effect.

Tues 5:45am: They put in the epidural. I hate when they put in the epidural. There’s something instinctive about protecting your lower back, and mine seems to remember the past epidurals – not with fondness. But the contractions are insisting I ignore this instinct and go for the drugs. I go for the drugs.

Tues 6am: I’m at 4cm. FOUR. I’ve been laboring all night to go from 2cm to 4cm. In other words, right now I’m thanking God for Pitocin, or this could’ve been a VERY long labor, and I’m already exhausted. Maybe these medical folk know something after all.

Tues 6:30am: The epidural is working. It is magic. It is heaven. I’m comfortable and rest for the first time in 12 hours even as the contractions are – apparently – piling up stronger than ever. I’m floating through it. I love modern medicine. Pitocin. Epidurals. The 135/min heartbeat I can hear pumping as I rest...

Tues 7:30am: But then the baby’s heart rate is dropping (decels), and I’m feeling some pain. The nurse looks concerned until she sees a head between my legs. I’ve gone from 4cm to 10cm in 1 hour. With almost no pain. Did I mention I love modern medicine?

Tues 7:54am: Our little one pops out after two – apparently – heroic pushes which took very little effort on my part.

It’s a boy! He’s perfect. They set him on my chest for immediate skin-to-skin contact, and he stays there as they do the APGAR tests, he pees on me, and I nurse him for the first time.

Then Josh gets a turn holding him, and gets a good dousing with tar-like poop.

It’s official. Josh and I are in love. With each other. With him. With modern medicine.

Tues 9am-12noon: We introduce our newest little man (7lb 4oz, 21") to Josh’s parents. Then we’re stashed in a tiny pre-op room where I scarf down an enormous breakfast (omelet, bacon, muffin, fruit, hot chocolate – the whole enchilada, minus any enchiladas) before my exhaustion and exhilaration battle it out and I again pretend to sleep.

Tues 1pm: We move to the penthouse, or so it seems. A real recovery room with private bath, a remote-control bed for me, pull-out bed for Josh (no need for pity – he’s not having postpartum contractions), room service (and the food is good – especially the omelets and tuna salad), professional nursery, free movies, flowers, gifts, and visitors.

Tues 3-6pm: We both sleep. For real. Then we pick a name. (Rock, paper, scissors.) (Just kidding.)

Tues 6-8pm: Visitors! We show off our newest family member to the Dennys (again – they can’t get enough – neither can we), Southerns, and Stewarts, plus two big brothers who meet Isaac Robert Denny for the first time.

Tues 8-10pm: Josh and I eat Bricktop’s black and blue pizza and the-best-chocolate-chip-cookie-in-the-whole-world (Thanks, Grandma and Papa!) while we start Crazy Stupid Love.

Wed 10:30am: Isaac’s circumcision in the nursery. Josh paces in our room, muttering, “I know a great pediatric urologist…”

Wed 11am-2pm: Josh’s parents and sister visit for some cuddle time with superman. Isaac is nursing and sleeping like a champ. He is a champ. Just like his Daddy and brothers. I can tell already.

Wed 5-8pm: My parents arrive. Mom finished radiation at 9:30am this morning and went straight to the airport for their noon flight. They get Taco Bell with Josh while I eat my now-regularly enormous room-service meal. It’s like we’re on a cruise. The hospital just needs a pool.

Wed 8-10pm: They do have free movies, so Josh and I watch Larry Crowne.

Thurs 2pm: After a relaxing morning, we’re discharged with my last mementos from the hospital: canker sores (I went a little crazy with the cranberry juice) and the DPT vaccine that will give me flu-like symptoms for 36hrs. I’ve just given birth for this child – I think I can handle the flu.

Thurs 3pm: We arrive home to my parents, the boys, and a beautiful new normal. Plus the Olympics. Life is good. We are beyond grateful.