Tyler's Birth Story

He’s here.  Sensing my impatience (maybe it was the jumping jacks or the spicy food) he came into the world just 2 days past his due date. His entrance was the most terrifying day of my life. While Grace’s birth story wasn’t “easy” it was a piece of confetti cake with strawberry frosting compared to her baby brother’s. Here is Tyler’s story:

After mild, fairly painless contractions every 3-5 minutes apart, we decided to head to the hospital. We packed Grace up in Nana’s car, gave kisses and sent her for a day of fun. It wasn’t emotional as I had expected. I was anticipating tears, kicking, screaming and prolonged goodbyes… but I actually handled it really well.  Jeff and I held hands as we walked back to the house and I leaned my head on his shoulder so thankful to have his support for what I was about to go through. I was nervous, anxious, scared and head over heels excited.  To feel so many emotions at once is overwhelming, but the tears didn’t come. I was ready and I had my best friend to help me through it all.

At the hospital I was 2 cm but not effaced, the nurses looked at me sideways and I’m sure they questioned why I was there.  But, I knew it was time and my first labor was only 5 hours long.  I would chain myself to the bed if I had to, I wasn’t going anywhere. The staff left me alone for 2 hours to progress and I did. (Nanner nanner) Within that time I only gained a 1/2 cm but was 100% effaced.  They admitted me and we talked about an epidural.  I knew I could wait. The nurse left and within 5 minutes I had changed my mind.  My uterus began tearing apart. I felt like I was being shredded from the inside with a pitch fork.  In addition to the contractions I could feel my body dilating, could feel this baby forcing his way out. I was giving birth to a tiger, claws and all. It got very bad very quickly. I begged for an epidural and I knew it was happening again; I was progressing at lightning speed. Within 20 min I was at 4cm, they ordered my epidural and that woman took forever! Was she crawling to my room?! GET HER IN HERE!  I remember writhing in pain, holding onto the bed rail to keep me in this world.  I cursed, I apologized, I screamed, I cried…. I remember feeling like such a toddler. I was throwing a tantrum.

Finally the epidural came but of course it did not kick in. Time passed and I still felt the pain, felt every contraction, felt his head pushing and stretching my body in half. He was 15lbs, I just knew it. Then, suddenly the pain was gone….not because the epidural worked but because 4 nurses appeared out of nowhere and had me doing gymnastics on the bed. “Flip to your side, flip to your other side.” And still, they looked panicked.  I couldn’t hear his heartbeat on the monitor and these women moved quickly, moved with a purpose and I sensed the urgency. They had me get on all fours and finally, I heard his heart beat again.  I felt the contractions but suddenly I wasn’t a toddler anymore…they were nothing compared to the strain on my heart. They placed an internal monitor on his head but still it fluctuated way too much for them to rest their anxious faces. They paged the doctor and she explained that if he didn’t recover, we would be moving in for an emergency c section. They had the surgery room ordered. I was going to throw up. Finally, I heard his heart rate come up to where it should be and I froze. I didn’t move a muscle. Jeff said I didn’t even blink. I couldn’t form a question because I didn’t want to move my mouth. The baby was finally happy, “recovered” and I wasn’t going to risk moving my big toe. The mood of the nurses changed, the room became more relaxed.  They spoke to me in soothing voices but all I heard was the heart monitor. All I felt was my belly hanging beneath me as I cradled my baby in my body for what I knew wasn’t going to be much longer.  I held him, spoke to him with my heart and begged him to be strong. Silently begged anyone who might be looking down on us, to help him through. 

They checked me and I was past 8cm. The doctor explained to me that I was progressing quickly and baby boy wasn’t handling it well. They were unclear if it was his umbilical cord or the pressure on his head (we think he was sunny side up) but my little boy was struggling. Slowly they turned me on my side to see if he could handle it and I was petrified.  Couldn’t I stay on all fours forever? Couldn’t I just keep him inside me? He handled the move pretty well and I was complete. From 2 to 10 in less than 2 hours. It was time. The mid wife prepared to deliver and I must have looked like a deer in headlights because Jeff kept reassuring me that everything was fine. They had two pediatricians standing in the room “just in case” and while their presence soothed me, it also devastated me. Just in case what? I wasn’t sure what to be afraid of exactly but I was consumed with fear. I felt the panic on my chest and the midwife and nurses kept speaking to me in soothing voices, “It will be okay.” But I felt uneasy; I was frightened his heart rate would dip again.  I pushed through 5 or 6 contractions and he did really well.  The mid wife was smiling, promising he had lots of hair. I started to relax, to allow myself to feel excited that he was almost here. The nurses were encouraging and gentle. Then, the heart monitor went silent again. A phone call to an unknown person, zero eye contact from anyone, feeling the breeze of nurses moving swiftly through the room, the abrupt arrival of a doctor and more nurses… suddenly the room was packed. My world began to crumble. I didn’t hear his heartbeat. I begged to know if he was okay and they said he needed to come out, now! Every push, every contraction, I wondered what was happening to my baby.  The doctor didn’t even put her delivery gear on, in just scrubs and gloves she stepped in to deliver. The room was loud, lots of commotion but all I heard was the deafening silence of the heart monitor. The doctor grabbed the vacuum, put it in place and screamed at me to “PUSH!” The vacuum popped off and the doctor flew back but she went right back in to try again. I pushed with all I had but at this point the epidural was working (finally!) and my pushes were inconsistent and blind. The vacuum popped again. “If we lose it again, we’re going.” the doctor said to the midwife and I knew that meant c section.  I knew that meant minutes that my baby would have to stay inside me where he was having such trouble. I looked at Jeff who never left my side, stuck right next to me this entire time and he forcefully demanded, “PUSH!” Everyone screamed at me to push, it drowned out the lack of heart beat, and I did.  I took every ounce of every piece of me and shoved it down and out of me. My mind went numb, my body went rigid and I did all that I could to be a mother to this baby before he arrived.  And I felt it, I felt my body go loose, felt him leave my body and I looked down. They placed him on my chest and I touched him immediately for the second they let me have him, he was warm but he was grey.  Then they took him from me as quickly as they gave him to me. I watched as they rubbed him in his bassinet and like a broken record I asked, “Is he okay? Is he okay? Is he okay?” They answered me but I didn’t listen because all I wanted to hear was his cry. Suddenly, his body flushed pink and my heart exploded into love and relief.  Then he cried and I burst into tears.  I sobbed, a sudden release of all the emotion and heart ache of the last few minutes. Jeff held me in his arms and I cried and cried and cried. Very quickly they placed him on my chest and I wrapped my arms around him.  Wrapped my hopes around him.  Held him so close that my heart drenched every part of him. To say my heart grew two sizes is too cliché because to me, he never wasn’t in my heart.  It felt like he had been there this whole time, my entire life. He is me. He is my husband. He is my daughter. We had been waiting for him, loving him through every step of our lives. Now I had him, skin to skin, and he was where he belonged yet also where he has always been. My heart was open and he fit perfectly. The weight of him, the warm, soft weight of him was nothing new….I had been holding him for months in my belly, for years in my heart.  I knew him, every part, even though I just met him. I spoke to him and he was quiet, just listening, resting, taking in all the love I was sending him. I whispered his name, “Tyler” in his ear for the first time. Perfect and healthy, he was here. The room disappeared, the people disappeared, there was no noise. I held my son so close I don’t know where I stopped and he began. 

A day passed quickly….  First vistors, ooooo’s and aaaahhh’s, first bath, snuggles, loves,  first meals, first look at the world, phone calls, recovery room, countless temperature taking, nurse shift changes, hearing tests, trashy tv while staying up most of the night, falling deeper in love, graham crackers at midnight, first sunrise, hours of staring, pain meds, crappy food, diaper changes, umbilical cord cringes, swaddle lessons, breast feeding struggles, countless pictures… and it was time for brand new baby Tyler to meet his big sister.

As Jeff was bringing her up in the elevator I changed Tyler into a frog onsie (Grace loves frogs), swaddled him, made sure his hair looked good and placed him in his basinet. I didn’t want to be holding him when she met him for the first time, I didn’t want her to feel she had been replaced overnight.  I had already showered and put on my own clothes. Then, I began to straighten the hospital room, make my bed, throw garbage away, and organize my stuff..... was I nervous? I hoped she liked him.  I hoped she wasn’t upset that I had been gone. I had such high hopes on the next couple minutes. I was worried I couldn’t pick her up because of the pain. I was worried she would be mad.  Then I heard her outside the door, my heart skipped 6 beats and I was calm.  She was thrilled to see me but more thrilled at my hospital room.  We hugged and kissed and then she ran laps around the room. We showed her baby brother and she was indifferent.  Sure, he was cool but check out this bed with buttons! I picked him up and brought him down to her.  She slowly walked over. She quietly stared at him. Then, lightning fast she reached out and gently pinched his nose, “NOSE!” she announced. “CHIN!” she pointed out as she poked him in the chin. Then she was off to explore. I had underestimated my little girl.  She’s well-adjusted, knows her place in the family and feels confident. No baby was going to change her world because she felt so secure in it.  Her Mama and Papa love her with all their hearts and nothing could ever change that. And now, where he’s always belonged is our baby boy.  He will know his place in the world as well. He will know that he and his sister ARE our world.