The Birth of Conrad

I woke up on November 27th around 7 a.m. and had a quick little cry in bed because, once again, I wasn’t in labor. I was now four days past my due date, and with each passing day, I was growing more impatient. For some reason, I thought labor would start overnight, but waking up still pregnant likely meant another day of waiting.

Keaton had already decided to take the day off to spend time with the family—and to be ready just in case the baby decided to make an appearance. After breakfast around 8 a.m., I started to feel some light cramping. This was nothing new, so I didn’t let myself get too hopeful. We were doing a little Thanksgiving craft and just hanging out when, about 30 minutes later, I began having sporadic contractions. Again, this was nothing out of the ordinary for me; I’d been dealing with random contractions and cramping for weeks.

I decided to continue with my morning routine and get ready for yet another day of being pregnant. While getting ready, I had more contractions that made me start to wonder if maybe—just maybe—this could actually be something. I didn’t want to jinx it, though, and assumed this labor would unfold like Reggie’s, which had lasted a total of 58 hours. I also noticed I was feeling the contractions in my back, just like I had with her.

By 9:30 a.m., I finally told Keaton I’d been having contractions. A few were starting to grab my attention more, although they weren’t very consistent yet. We decided to have the kids hang out with family for a bit, just in case this turned into something. My gut told me today might be the day, but I refused to let myself get my hopes up. I figured things might taper off, and we’d pick the kids up later.

At 10 a.m., I called my sister to see if the kids could come over to play and maybe stay the night if this turned out to be the real deal. Since we were having Thanksgiving brunch at her house the next morning, it worked out perfectly. By 10:30 a.m., the kids were ready to go and headed to her house.

I decided to give my doula a quick heads-up and texted her:

“Been having contractions for a few hours. Haven’t started tracking them yet. Trying to continue about my day as much as I can, but they’re starting to grab my attention more and are growing a little in intensity and length. Pretty much all in my back again.”

This was around 11 a.m.

When Keaton got home after dropping the kids off, we decided to go for a walk and do some curb walking to see if that would help things along. The walk made my contractions pick up in both frequency and intensity. By the time we got home, Keaton warmed up some leftover chili for me, and I tried to eat a little—though I quickly realized chili probably wasn’t the best choice while in labor.

By this point, my contractions were definitely increasing, but I still didn’t want to get my hopes up. We weren’t timing them yet and tried to relax, but as the contractions grew stronger, I needed to focus on breathing through them more. Around 1:30 p.m., Keaton tracked a few and found they were lasting 60-90 seconds and coming every 4-5 minutes. I decided to hop in the bath to relax.

Keaton updated our doula, who said she’d head over in about 30 minutes. As he was filling the tub, I started shaking uncontrollably and wondered if I should even get in—or if we should just head to the hospital. At 1:37, Keaton texted her again, saying we might skip the bath and leave for the hospital instead. She responded that she was coming over right away.

I convinced myself there was no way I was ready yet. My plan was to get to the hospital and be at least 5 cm dilated, so I decided to stay home and get in the tub, hoping it would help ease the back labor. Keaton let our doula know my change of plans at 1:41 p.m. 

Once in the tub, Keaton poured warm water over my back during contractions, which helped ease the intense back pain. When my doula arrived, she watched a few contractions and suggested we head to the hospital. I told her I didn’t think I was ready. I couldn’t believe I might be progressing this fast—just the day before, I’d been 1 cm dilated and 60% effaced, which had been my status for weeks. I knew it was possible to go from 1 to 10 in no time, but I didn’t think that would happen to me.

To be safe, I got out of the tub to see if the change in environment would alter the frequency and intensity of the contractions. Getting out was hard; I was shaking uncontrollably and having contractions every two minutes. After a few more contractions in the living room, my doula insisted we go. Still in disbelief, I asked, “Are you sure?” But after a couple more contractions, I finally agreed.

It took some time to get to the car since I had to stop every two minutes to breathe through contractions. We arrived at the hospital around 2:30 p.m., and by then, I really needed to concentrate and work through each contraction. Keaton applied pressure to my sacrum and rocked me side to side, which brought a little relief.

Any kind of movement intensified the contractions, so walking to labor and delivery was slow going. Once we arrived, I handed the nurse my birth plan and agreed to be checked. To my relief, I was already at 6 cm dilated, 90% effaced, with a bulging bag. I was so grateful that this was it and I’d made it this far at home.

The hospitalist came in to check on me, and the staff called my doctor. Afterward, we moved to a labor and delivery room, where I spent a little time signing forms and getting an IV while continuing to manage intense contractions every two minutes. I leaned over the side of the bed, rocking through the pain, and then switched to kneeling on the bed with the head of it raised.

After a while in that position, I started to feel frustrated. I thought if I was progressing, my water should have broken by now. My doula suggested moving around to help things along, and the nurse asked if I wanted to get in the tub. I agreed.

Once I got in the tub, I had three really strong contractions—and then my water broke. I stayed in the tub for two or three more contractions before deciding to get out because I was feeling some pressure.

It took about two more contractions to get out of the tub and a few more to make it to the bed. As I stood by the side of the bed, my body began to push instinctively. My doctor asked if she could check me to make sure it was okay to push.

I climbed onto the bed on my hands and knees, and she confirmed I was at 10 cm with a small anterior lip. She gently moved the lip out of the way while I gave a light push. She asked if I could straighten out a bit on the bed but reassured me I could stay in that position if I preferred. I adjusted slightly, resting my head on the bed since the head of it was still raised.

With two or three strong pushes, our sweet baby came into the world quickly at 5:03 p.m. I heard Keaton say, “It’s a boy!” My heart had known all along this baby was a boy.

The next several minutes were a blur. I was facing away and didn’t immediately realize what was happening, but I knew something wasn’t right. The doctor cut the cord right away, and I heard the staff say our baby was in distress. He had come out white and was struggling to take his first breaths.

I didn’t know it at the time, but when I started pushing, the nurse had placed monitors on me and noticed some decelerations. She didn’t mention it, knowing he was on his way out, but I feel like my body knew. Instead of breathing him out gently as I’d planned, I had a sudden, instinctive urge to push him out as quickly as possible.

I flipped over on the bed and watched them work on our little boy. They reassured us that he was okay but needed help keeping his oxygen levels up. They performed deep suctioning to clear fluid he had taken in during delivery.

When they brought him to me, they laid him on my chest to see if that would help stabilize his oxygen levels, but he continued to dip into the 80s. At that point, they decided to take him to the nursery for additional oxygen and monitoring.

I stayed in the room to get cleaned up and needed a couple of stitches after delivering the placenta. It wasn’t until the staff finished and we were sitting alone in the room that the reality of the situation hit me. It is an awful feeling to give birth to your baby only to have them taken away. My heart goes out to all the NICU mamas who spend days, weeks, or even months separated from their babies.

After two hours in recovery, we were ready to head to postpartum. On the way, we stopped by the nursery to see our boy, but they told us he was off oxygen and they would bring him to our room! That was the best news we could have received! Those two-plus hours had felt like an eternity.

Finally, we got to hold our sweet Conrad and take him in. He was absolutely perfect, and we are so grateful for our amazing provider and the staff who ensured he was safe and healthy. Conrad is the sweetest addition to our little family, and we couldn’t be more in love.