Note: This is mainly for my own memory's sake so one day I will be able to tell Charlie his birth story. Also, this is not meant to scare those of you who are expecting, but it's no storybook delivery.


I woke up on Sunday morning (March 10) with contractions beginning around 7am. At first I kept thinking, "Is this real? Are these really contractions? Does this mean my baby is coming?!" I told Steve I thought I was beginning to have contractions and of course we both got all excited that something was finally happening. They continued throughout the day about 5-7 minutes apart and lasting about 30 seconds, but never increasing in length or intensity. I went about my day as normal, well as normal as I could while constantly thinking I COULD HAVE A BABY ANY MINUTE! We thought for sure we would find ourselves at the hospital before Monday morning. In the evening, we decided to call the on-call doctor. Since my contractions still hadn't changed in length or intensity, he said it was up to us if we wanted to head into the hospital to get checked. I chose not to since I would rather labor in the comfort of my own home as long as possible.

While I was scheduled to go to the hospital Monday night to begin the induction process, I had planned to go to work on Monday (well, I didn't want to just sit around the house all day in anticipation!). Steve had planned to take the whole week off and since I was going to go to work as usual, he scheduled a round of golf. Charlie had other plans for us, which we've learned all along is how he rolls...he's just teaching us that life is no longer going to go according to our plans. Since my contractions were continuing I decided I should call Lisa who was going to be my long-term sub and tell her she should plan on starting her first day of work, as I thought I should probably not risk delivering a baby at school.

Much to our surprise, I made it through the night - not really sure how I managed any sleep, but luckily I did. My contractions continued on Monday, but they still weren't increasing in length or intensity. We decided to go to Costco to walk around hoping that would make them longer and stronger. We walked up and down every.single.aisle. The contractions remained the same.
After laboring through contractions for about 35 hours, we finally decided at 7:30pm to pack our things and head to the hospital for our scheduled induction. We checked in just after 8pm, a little earlier than scheduled. Things started out great. After we checked in and got settled in the labor and delivery room, I was told I was 2cm and they administered Cervidil to help the process overnight. They offered me some Ambien to get some sleep, but I declined thinking I was exhausted enough that I would be able to fall asleep and was a little nervous about taking sleep meds. Boy was I wrong. My mind was racing a mile a minute...I was about to have a BABY! I kept trying to close my eyes and tune out all the thoughts going on in my head. I turned on the TV to try to distract myself. I watched as Steve slept in the recliner chair next to me. I kept having to maneuver my large self out of bed to go to the bathroom. Finally, I gave up and asked them to bring me Ambien so I could get a little rest before the big event.

Shortly after, when I went to the bathroom around 2am, the Cervidil came out. The nurses decided I had made enough progress (4cm) that they could go ahead and administer Pitocin to really induce labor. So much for taking the Ambien...sleep was not in my future! The contractions really started to pick up and I tried my best to breathe through them....in 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4. Things were moving along, so the doctor broke my water and shortly after I requested an epidural. I went from being in a ton of pain, to happily sitting in my (uncomfortable) bed watching the contractions come and go on the monitor. At this point it was about 5am, and they told us it would be a good time to take a little nap as we'd have a busy morning.

I progressed to 6cm while resting, but then the doctor and two nurses came semi rushing into the room. Turns out the Pitocin was making my contractions too intense and the baby was having a tough time as his heartbeat became erratic. They turned off the Pitocin and hoped things would settle down, but he was still having trouble. They gave me another drug to completely stop the whole process. This lasted for about an hour and he was back to having a great heartbeat, so they let my natural contractions resume and hoped that I'd be pushing in a couple hours.

Two hours later they came to check my progress and I was still stuck at 6cm, which confused the doctors, as I had been stuck at this point for about 4 hours now. They decided to restart the Pitocin at a lower level to strengthen the contractions and help me get over the 6cm hump.  After about an hour I had made it to 8cm, but the baby was showing some more signs of distress. During this time, I could only lay on my left side because if I moved to the other side, the baby's heart rate immediately dropped. I was extremely uncomfortable and kept wanting to change positions, but I remained on my left side for the baby's sake until about 11:45am.

The doctor came in and checked my progress and determined that I wasn't quite 10cm, but if I didn't start pushing now, we might have to do a c-section as I was starting to get a slight fever and the baby was continuing to show signs of discomfort. I immediately started the pushing process and the baby surprisingly tolerated it so they decided to continue on with me pushing.

The pushing process was mentally and physically exhausting for both Steve and me. Steve held one leg while the L&D nurse held the other. (Steve says he had no idea he would have this role...I swear I prepared him for this part.) We would watch the monitor in anticipation of each contraction. I pushed through each contraction (about every 3 minutes) in 3 ten second intervals. After the first hour, I had made some progress, but my temperature continued to rise and there was evidence of meconium. Despite all that, the doctor said I was "a great pusher" and decided to keep going.

I pushed for another exhausting hour and you could just see the top of baby's head. (The L&D nurse brought in a mirror for me to see so that it would help my stamina to get that baby out...never thought I would have wanted to see a mirror anywhere in my delivery room, but it did help.) My epidural was wearing off which caused more pain with each push (although I still couldn't lift my legs on my own - such a weird feeling!) and my fever was over 101 degrees.  The doctor said we were now at a very critical point.  Basically we could continue to push for another hour and hope to get the baby out or we could go ahead with a c-section. There were risks for both. I really wanted to have a vaginal delivery, but we decided that my increasing fever and lack of much progress over the last two hours might put the baby at high risk. Plus I was simply exhausted. So, together, we decided on having a c-section.

They made it sound like they would quickly get me to the operating room, but it took about 40 minutes before everything was set up. All the while I was just laying there with a 101+ fever. They wheeled me down to the operating room to get set up while they whisked Steve away to get all suited up. They used some big steel plate to place under me and move me from the hospital bed to the operating table. I remember feeling as if they had moved me to the very edge of the table as if I were going to fall off the side. Steve came in and sat down right next to my head. After a few minutes, one of the nurses said, "Just a couple more minutes and you should hear your baby cry..."

I was in a lot of pain, but was excited that we were just about to meet baby Charlie. However, as they were pulling him out, the doctor said there was a true knot in the umbilical cord. They quickly got him out, but I knew something wasn't right. I heard no signs of a cry. Luckily, I couldn't see anything, but simply watching Steve's face confirmed something was wrong. He stared at the baby while I kept saying, "What's wrong? What's wrong?!!" He wouldn't look at me and wouldn't say a word. I've never seen him look so terrified.

When they pulled the baby out, he did not let out a cry or any noise for that matter. Two nurses quickly rushed him over to a little table that had a heat lamp with 3 nurses and one doctor ready to work. Baby Charlie was out of my belly, but he was not breathing and his skin was a strange shade of blue/purple. Steve watched in horror as they tried to bring him to life. The nurses were doing reflex tests and his poor little lifeless body was just limp with everything they tried. The doctor was rapidly working on respiratory, and then put an oxygen mask over his nose and put some tube down his throat to suck out any of the meconium he might have swallowed.

Steve said it was the scariest, most terrifying few moments of his life: "I wish they had some monitors on me because I can't even imagine how fast my heart was beating or how high my blood pressure got, but it was a feeling of total helpless panic that engulfed me. I had this rush of thoughts trying to figure out how I could possibly tell Melissa the news and all of our family, when all of a sudden I heard the greatest noise I've ever heard: little Charlie cried."

I heard Charlie's first loud cry and at the same moment Steve let out a huge "YES!" We were both overjoyed and Steve watched in amazement as the color returned to his little body. Steve told me how proud he was of me and then got to go meet our new baby boy. 




As Steve walked up to Charlie, the first thing he noticed was his umbilical cord. He said the cord sort of looked like a skinnier version of a garden hose and it looked like someone just tied a huge knot in it. The doctor quickly told him that if he had been delivered vaginally, he most likely would have suffocated and died as the knot would have gotten tighter and tighter as he came out of the birth canal. So the greatest parental decision that we will ever have in our lives, just happened to be our first parental decision, as the c-section saved his life.

They allowed Steve to take a couple pictures and then they finished doing some tests on him. Each baby that is delivered is given an APGAR score, which is based on skin color, respiration, activity, pulse, etc. A score of 7 is considered average, 4 or 5 is considered poor and 3 or below usually means there's something critically wrong. Charlie had a score of 2 at minute one. After he was revived, they took it again at minute 5 and he got a score of 9.

Once he was stabilized, they brought him over for me to see. That was such a surreal moment. I had no idea what all just happened, but I knew he was alive and that was enough for me. I couldn't move my arms so the nurse had to bring him down to my hand so I could touch him. His skin was incredibly smooth. They finally removed my oxygen mask so I could give him his first kiss.



Due to Charlie's APGAR score of a 2 and the fact that I had a fever during delivery, he had to be sent to the NICU for monitoring. Steve went with the nurses down to the NICU and they got Charlie all hooked up and immediately started some antibiotics since my fever could mean an infection was passed along to him. Shortly after, they shooed Steve out of there and he went to talk to my family in the lobby.


All the while, I was still on the operating table getting stitched back together. I think those were the worst minutes of my entire delivery experience. I was SO uncomfortable. I was shaking (which they said was normal, but my shaking was amplified due to my fever) so badly that I was getting a cramp in my left shoulder and my jaw hurt from clenching my teeth. I couldn't stop moaning in pain, as it felt like I was having the worst contraction constantly. I guess that feeling is normal because the anesthesiologist didn't do anything for me.

My baby was whisked away to the NICU without me. Steve went with Charlie, so I was left all alone. I could hear the doctors having a nonchalant conversation while working. I tried to ask the anesthesiologist questions to take my mind off of the discomfort, but he wasn't Mr. Personality. "How long was my baby?" -They'll tell you later. "Did he have 10 fingers and 10 toes?!" -Well, I guess they would have told you if he didn't.

Eventually, they were sticking that steel plate under me again to transfer me off the operating table and wheeled me down to recovery. At this point, I think I was drifting in and out of sleep due to sheer exhaustion and I was kind of out of it. Steve showed up at the doorway of my recovery room which made me feel ten times better (with two boxes of donuts from my dad for us to share with all the nurses...he really knows how to win them over). I was texting Gill and Rebecca. Who knows what I was saying, hopefully I made sense. Once they monitored me for a bit, I got sent up to a room and anticipated the moment I would get to visit my new little babe.