Charlie's Birth Story

It's been a while since I sat down to blog. When I closed down the photography and editing business, I also shut down my website and blog permanently. However, as I sat down to write out Charlie's birth story, I kept reverting to my blogging voice! It's comfortable and what I'm used to when sharing our personal life. So here we go again with the Monday Mess! 

At 39 weeks pregnant, when they tell you that you are full term, you start to envision going into labor because "it could happen at any moment." This is a blessing and a curse since being ready feels exhilarating, but waiting patiently for the biggest moment of your life is exhausting. Each contraction, each twinge of back pain, each bubble of gas has you wondering, "IS THIS IT??" For us, it was always no, nope, nah, maybe later, HA GOTCHA.

At 40 weeks and zero signs of labor, we set up our back up plan with the midwives. They suggested induction between 41 and 42 weeks, if labor didn't start spontaneously. We set it up for the 41 week mark, and while induction wasn't our goal, it was nice to have an end date. We officially wouldn't be waiting forever! 

Lots of how-to-induce-labor advice showed up in our messages, but none of these natural remedies did us any good other than to give us something to do while waiting. With COVID about, Will worked from home and I continued a rotating shift schedule in the lab. Each day I would leave saying, "maybe I'll see you tomorrow or maybe I'll see you in a few months!" It was a joke that got old quickly as each day passed without change. 

During this waiting phase Will often gave me "the look." If you've been pregnant with a significant other, you know "the look." It's essentially how I envision someone looks at a box of dynamite. But the days went on, and despite many looks, I neither went into labor nor exploded. 

At my last appointment, the day before our scheduled induction, we had a non-stress test where Charlie was found to be doing just fine and aggressively kicked at the heart rate monitor to prove his point. I was 3 cm dilated which was welcome news because at least something was happening. At the end of the appointment, our midwife asked if I wanted to try one last thing - a membrane sweep. This wasn't going to be pleasant, but hey, with only one night left to start labor spontaneously, I was down to try anything! 

After the membrane sweep, things really felt like they were kicking into gear. Cramps turned into unorganized contractions and lasted into the evening. We finished packing the hospital bags... ok I finished packing my hospital bag since Will had his done WEEKS prior. I cleaned. We walked. We fidgeted a lot. We accomplished lots of things that didn't matter but kept us busy. We made lots of giddy smiles. 

By late evening, the contractions were stronger, 5-10 minutes apart, and around 30-45 seconds. They kept getting closer together. It's common to try to sleep/rest through early labor so we got to bed, but I was WAY too energized to lie down. So I sat on an exercise ball and bounced as we watched, you guessed it, The Office! I was certain that this was the official start of labor as the contractions progressed to 5-6 minutes apart and where decidedly uncomfortable. This lasted about 45 minutes before it started to taper off to 7-8 minutes apart, then 10, then 15. By 2am, I could sleep and drifted off. 

I woke up at 7 am with no labor signs (urg!) and decided to call the midwives. Originally we planned to start the induction in the evening, arriving to the hospital at 6pm, but they were concerned with my lack of sleep and said to come in by early afternoon. 

Oy, we haven't even gotten to the hospital yet! I hope you are ready for a long post... 

We got the dogs to the kennel. I showered and even put on foundation and dried my hair! Now that we were at the starting line, I think I was a little nervous and maybe stalling a tad... maybe. 

We took one last photo on the deck and then got in the car. Oddly enough, the contractions started picking back up again on the way. Considering we were delivering at a hospital that was 45 minutes away, I'm actually thankful that we got to experience this calm, mostly painless journey to the hospital. Induction wasn't our plan, but it was just meant to be this way. How wonderful it was to have some final precious Will and Jess moments before things changed forever. 

I always envisioned walking into the hospital bent over in pain screaming for an epidural, so walking into the hospital calm as a cucumber felt strange and relaxing. My contractions continued to strengthen after we got checked in, as if they were just waiting for us to be ready. At check in, I was 4 cm dilated and that's not a bad place to start! 

By the time they were giving me my first dose of Pitocin, the contractions were strong enough that I had to breathe through them. They got me strapped up to the mobile heart rate monitor so I could move around for comfort. We got the birthing ball and I rotated between pacing and bouncing. Will and I were both joking freely and the excitement was pumping. At the same time, I often held Will's hand and said "I'm scared." He just smiled and said, "you are doing great." 

Within an hour of the Pitocin starting, my water broke. OH MY GOODNESS. Contractions went from interesting to needing ALL my attention. They were 4-5 minutes apart, which was lucky since there was a still a good break in between the intensity. 

At this time, I asked for the epidural, knowing it could take an hour to get the anesthesiologist. I'm glad I did because it took quite a while! The anesthesiologist wanted over a full liter of saline in me before considering the epidural. I remember the midwives and Will laughing as I pumped the saline bag to make it drip in faster. Apparently they were not used to people messing with the medical equipment. 

As we waited for the epidural, I got to experience some of the intense contractions. I read several books where the husband/partner helped out the laborer by providing back support or rocking together. This was such a sweet idea to me at the time, but at this stage I wanted NOTHING to do with anyone touching me. In fact, I wanted a 10ft bubble. So instead, Will just kept a steady supply of popsicles at the ready. 

I never intended to have an unmedicated birth, but I'm glad I got to experience a few hours of the more intense contractions. I don't think anyone needs to experience pain as part of meeting a child, but after so many months of prepping, it was welcome to experience some of what I had been reading about! So, I held onto my IV pole and groaned through the pain. My midwife sat through the worst hours and coached me through each one until the epidural was on board. Will told me how good I was doing after EVERY one. I stopped being scared of them and started knowing that I could get through them. The shift in mindset was sharp. It was like I suddenly opened my eyes and realized, "Hey! This is not scary. This is fine." But also, "I'm getting the Fing epidural."

The epidural was a breeze. So easy, so uninteresting. This is also about the time that they didn't need Pitocin anymore. Generally they expect to increase Pitocin throughout the induction process but my body only needed a jump start and then it took over from there! 

One leg definitely was more "out" from the epidural and I did have a "hot spot" that wasn't as medicated as the rest of my body. At times I still needed to breath through the contractions, especially as they continued to rotate me into various positions to keep up progress. After many hours of still feeling the pain, the anesthesiologist added another dose that lasted until the pushing phase. I wouldn't say I could get any rest, but I stopped have to work through every contraction. 

I sat and watched Netflix and the contraction monitor. Will got some rest. The monitor's waves started going off the charts and staying very close together. Time seemed to go by so quickly, and I was very surprised at 12:30am, when my midwife said I was over 9cm dilated and very close to pushing! At 1:30am we tried the first "practice pushes." 

This is when things got interesting. After just a few practice pushes, my midwife abruptly stopped the pushing process and said that she needed to consult the on-call doctor. Our little guy's heart rate dropped from the 140's to the 60's when pushing. I didn't know the numbers at the time, I just knew that his heart rate dropped and could indicate a wrapped cord, among other things. 

Will held my hand. I don't remember what he said, but I remember it was what I needed to hear. The midwives later remarked at how calm I seemed at this stage, but Will knows the difference. 

The midwife and doctor consulted and decided they wanted to let me push to see if I could get the baby any lower for a possible vacuum-assisted vaginal delivery. If I couldn't get the baby lower, the back up plan was an emergency c-section. I trusted our providers so much and knew they were going to make the right choices for Charlie and myself. Throughout the entire process, they were there ready to make tough, reasonable choices for our safety and I could not be more thankful for them! 

Suddenly, MANY new faces arrived. A once spacious delivery room was cramped with various carts and about 15 people all ready for action of one kind or another. I'm not even sure I could say who was there and who wasn't, it was just packed with people in gowns! The quiet, peaceful atmosphere was now alive with energy.

We went back to pushing, now with the added pressure of a c-section if I couldn't get our little boy any lower in the birth canal. Each time I pushed there was an evaluation, a conversation between my providers, and some worried faces. Will held my hand and kept me steady. He said, "however we meet Charlie is the right way. It's ok. Whatever happens, it will be ok."

I remember not really knowing what was going on from here on out. I just knew that every time they let me push was another chance to get him out, and he must be ok if we weren't on the way to the operating room. No one was saying that things were ok, but no one was pushing for a c-section yet either. 

Will's voice rang out above all others as he confidently counted to ten for me with each push. His voice was what I focused on. There were two nurses telling me when it was time to push, but I started knowing very clearly when things were building and when I just couldn't take it anymore and had to! 

At some point an oxygen mask was put on my face. At some point the conversation stopped being about whether I could get him lower. He was lower! At this stage I noticed the faces were no longer concerned. I don't know if this took minutes or an hour, but then the doctor backed away and my midwife took over again. The dips in Charlie's heart rate stopped happening. Now it was just time to finish this. All the many faces in the room went from being the crash team to being my own very large cheerleading squad. 

I feel like it's impossible to describe the feeling of him getting lower and lower. We were getting to the end. I knew he had to be out with the next push.. ok fine the next one... then my mind thought if it's not this one then I just can't do it! Where do they keep the tap out button?!!

My midwife told me to feel his hair. I felt it. That gave me the strength and understanding that things were almost done. He had to be out soon. We pushed more. The voices in the room started to get even more excited. I could tell that they also felt like this was the end! I told myself that I can hang on for 10 more pushes. I pushed. And suddenly he was out and Will was catching and then Charlie was on my chest. 

I couldn't see his face, just the top of his head as I held him close. I was bawling. Will was at my side saying "it's ok, its ok!" Will was smiling at me. Charlie was here! I don't know if I got to hold him for minutes or seconds before they took him to the warmer. He had meconium and they need to clear his airway. 

Charlie (Charles Phillip Bulloss) was born at 3:50am weighing 6lbs 14oz and was 18.5 inches long. 

Everyone reassured us that he was doing great despite the meconium.  

Will was holding my hand and I said, "take a photo of his face! I want to see his little face!" 

I wish there was a good string of words to describe the first few minutes and hours of being with Charlie. Looking back, it's all a little fuzzy, in a did-that-really-happen sort of way. I don't know how to properly describe this powerful wave of love and adrenaline. Every slice of it felt exactly right. I find it annoying when people say "there are no words" but sorry, it's just hard to describe. 

I blinked and it was 6am. I remember everything was suddenly quiet and it was just the three of us - Will, myself, and 2-hour-old baby Charlie. Will convinced me to try nursing again - something I had tried several times and didn't believe I could do without an expert around. Welp, a little encouragement from Will, the least expertised person I know on lactation, and we were nursing away! 

Our time in the hospital from then on was what I would describe as peaceful anxiety. He was here and we were safe... but, of course, we had no idea what we were doing. Every squawk from Charlie had me bolting upright. The nurse's swaddling technique was unattainable voodoo magic. Will and I were never a better team to each other, but still, the team that would get the thanks-for-playing award. These first trials were my favorite. While riddled with anxiety, we also felt more comfortable with Charlie than we could ever feel with another baby. 

Basically, we discovered that having a baby is a hodge-podge of EVERY emotion in the book, and often, there are competing emotions present at the same time.  

With Covid peaking, and Charlie doing so well, the hospital was willing to let us out 24 hrs after birth instead of the typical 48+. While the safety net of the hospital providers was nice, we were very excited to get home where people would not be coming in and out of the room every 45 minutes. 

So at 24 hours, I grabbed the car seat with Charlie. Will grabbed the multitude of things we brought along with several bags of supplies from the hospital and we headed out. 

Charlie slept for the full 45 min car ride home and then a whole new adventure began.