Yes, it’s true--Corey and my mom helped deliver this baby boy....in our living room! He was born at 11:40pm on Saturday, September 18, 2010.
I started feeling contractions on Friday morning and thought we’d better head to the hospital. I decided to jump in the shower and get ready to go. Well, the shower seemed to calm things down and the contractions weren’t as strong or steady.
So now what? Well, I decided to go about the day as I normally would. My mom helped me to clean the house (always faster, funner, and cleaner). I was still feeling infrequent contractions.
At lunch time, my mom suggested timing and writing down contractions. So from 12:30 until 4:30--I timed contractions at 10 minutes apart and getting stronger. Every now and again, I’d have some pretty strong back contractions.
Corey and I decided it was time to head for the hospital. My mom prepared some sandwiches in case the babe came in the middle of the night and we were hungry (the hospital doesn’t have food on hand that late).
We took pictures and my mom and Elsie waved us off. I called the hospital to tell them we were on our way. The midwife on the other line asked if my water had broken or if there was any bleeding. She said I could take a pain reliever and might want to wait to come in. After I told her how fast my delivery was with Elsie, she said she thought the hospital could make room for me as they were “quite busy at the moment.” Now way confused, I kept second-guessing myself and asking Corey if we should still go. He told me not to worry about what the midwife said on the phone.
The nurses welcomed me into a delivery suite and after a half-hour or so, they hooked me up to the monitors. We watched my contractions--still 10 minutes apart. Dilation--only a three. Disappointment was an understatement. Although, I dilated extremely fast with Elsie, so a three at the moment didn’t really mean anything.
After about an hour, the midwife suggested I go to a different ward (part of the hospital) to wait things out and see how they progress.
By the time 9pm rolled around, I was tired of being at the hospital. I told the midwives I felt like I could go home; only now they wouldn’t let me go. They worried that if things progressed through the night, my “waters could go” (that’s how they say it here) and then the babe would be there any second.
So, I stayed the night and Corey slept at a nearby hotel to be “right there” (the hospitals here don’t usually accommodate husbands). I didn’t sleep the best with contractions here and there throughout the night. By 6am, I was really ready to go home. After the rounds of nurses, midwives, and doctors--I finally was released at about 11am. Contractions just weren’t as consistent (or maybe I made myself believe this, just so I could be home). Corey picked me up and we even stopped to get a couple of things at the store.
It was nice to be welcomed at home by my mom and Elsie. We had lunch together and all took naps. After a few video chats, my mom and I made dinner and then we all went for a walk. I was feeling stronger contractions now, but again--not consistent. We bathed Elsie and put her to bed. My mom helped me bake a cake for a dinner invitation by some ward members for the next day.
I decided to go to bed early--I was exhausted from the night before. I lost the mucous plug--but knew that really wasn’t a strong indication to head to the hospital again, since you could lose the thing a day or so before you go into strong labor (sorry if that was too graphic). Still had tight contractions and my back ached like nothing else; but I just shrugged them off as not important--especially with what happened earlier. I set all the hospital bags out, “just in case.” Fell asleep.
I woke up from a HUGE pop and knew my water broke. How I slept through some of the strongest contractions and dilation I have no idea. My only rationale is that I was exhausted from the night before.
I leaped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, but froze standing still with a STRONG contraction--so strong, I yelled probably the most horrifying, painful yell. I think I was more bugged over the fact that I now had woken up Elsie than the fact that the entire lower half of my body was trembling. I knew his head was crowning. Corey dropped the spoon from his bowl of cereal (while following the final minutes of the BYU game) and leaped up the stairs and at my side in a heartbeat. My mom came rushing in immediately after. Helping me get my pants on to go to the hospital, my mom guided me through the door and down the stairs. I was breathing so hard I couldn’t even think. I stopped again half way down the stairs, gripped the railing with one hand and the window sill in the other with another strong contraction and said, “Call an ambulance! Call an ambulance!” He scrambled around me and dialed “999” or 911 as we know it at home.
My mom guided me into the living room (at this point I could barely even walk). Clenching both her arms and trembling like I never knew I could, I told her I knew the baby’s head was right there. She threw some large couch cushions on the floor and said, “Alisa lay down right here!” I said, “No, I can’t!”--only because I was having ANOTHER contraction. “Alisa, you NEED to lay down!” my mom said again.
My mom finally said to Corey, “The baby’s head is here! The baby’s head is here!” Once Corey realized there was no way we were going to make it to the hospital, the phone was immediately on speaker and he was right at mom’s side.
My mom instantly unwrapped the cord from around the baby’s neck and the paramedic on the line said to have me push as hard as I could with the next contraction to help the shoulders come through. I never felt so helpless in my life. With all the faith I could ever have and sincerest prayer I could ever offer, I pushed and pleaded with Heavenly Father for help. Miraculously, the shoulders came through along with the legs and everything else.
My mom set the baby on my tummy. Corey scrambled for towels and handed a pile of clean dishtowels to my mom so they could first wipe off the mouth and nose of the baby and then the body--all directed by the paramedic. I told Corey to grab more clean towels from upstairs. My mom wrapped the baby in a nice clean, white towel to keep him warm. “You’re doing lovely. You’re doing lovely,” the sweet paramedic would say.
Corey ran out to wave Andy, the paramedic down. Andy was on his way to another call and was only five minutes away. Relief...for us anyway. The confidence he carried totally overshadowed the anxiousness he really felt because there was no midwife. Walky-talky exchanges were made concluding that the nearest ambulance was an hour away. Andy phoned for a midwife, then clamped and let Corey cut the umbilical cord.
Sarah, the blonde cheery midwife smiled as she walked in! Sigh of relief number two--and for Andy this time, too. She immediately asked if I’d delivered the placenta (a major concern). I was told by Andy to wait until the midwife came as she’d have an injection to speed the delivery of the placenta. Sarah helped situate little Spencer in Corey’s arms, and had me sit on the toilet to see if gravity would help the thing come. Nothing. She suggested we try the injection--which I was against, only because I wanted to see if my body could do it naturally and not be interfered by any medication. As she left the bathroom to get the drug, I felt a contraction. There it was--the placenta. It was much bigger than I thought. It is the oddest looking thing, but tells a lot: Potential complications for the mother due to missing pieces, detects kidney disease, and clarifies the blood type of the baby (which happened to be B-, just like me---thank heavens). No shot this time (or like I did with Elsie).
After delivering the placenta, I felt worlds of relief. Spencer was then measured, weighed, and given a vitamin K shot. He ate like a champ, was bundled up, and given a little beanie from Andy.
While the crew enjoyed the now “Birth Day” chocolate bundt cake my mom and I’d made earlier, I took a nice long shower--at home (and then ate cake).
Said our dearest thank you’s, gave hugs, and watched Sarah leave. There we were--all five of us--at home.
To think a baby had been born only 3 hours earlier--right there in our living room. We all processed the story over the next day. Still am processing it all.
A series of miracles were witnessed that night. A baby’s birth is a miracle in itself. With the given circumstances, every detail went as smooth as it ever could. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to express the deep gratitude and reverence we’ll forever feel in our hearts. Thank you for letting us feel right at Home, sweet Spencer.
