Gunner's Birth Story

So you want to know how our little Gunner came into this world?

It was Friday, July 30 -- I felt what I figured were more Braxton-Hicks contractions. I had been feeling them all through my pregnancy. But these were a little different, because I sort of felt some cramps too. I began to wonder if this was the real thing or not.

That night, Jimmy and I tried to time the contractions but they were so erratic. We went to bed around midnight with the notion that if I was in labor we’d know in a matter of hours.

And wouldn’t you know it, around 3 a.m. I woke up with definite contractions. People had told me, when it’s a real contraction, you’ll know it. I was 100% positive – this was the real thing. I woke Jimmy up to start timing. And we called the number we were supposed to call. While we were waiting for the on-call doctor to call us back, my water broke! Wow, it was like a dam breaking.

The contractions were starting to get pretty intense. By the time we got to the hospital I was worried that the baby was coming soon and I wouldn’t have time for the epidural. I felt like the contractions were right on top of each other. In reality, they were about 2-3 minutes apart.

Waiting in triage, pre-epidural. Not happy.

When the nurse was checking me in, she said I was already dilated to 4 cm. She asked if I wanted my epidural soon, and I said "Yes!" By this time the contractions were getting more painful. I was starting to wonder how worse it could get. I could barely breathe. I thought I could tolerate a pretty fair amount of pain, but this was almost unbearable.

They said I could have the epidural when my lab results came back and after some of the IV fluids got into my system. I thought, my God, that is going to take forever! But I was surprised when the anesthesiologist came in around 5 a.m.

I couldn’t feel any part of the epidural. The pain of the contractions was all I could feel. Once he was done, the pain started to fade. After about 10 minutes, it was gone all together. I also could not feel my legs anymore.

I was hooked up to monitors that showed my contractions, and we could hear the baby’s heart beat. Jimmy would look at the monitor and ask, “Did you feel that?” and I would say “No.” It was amazing. I cannot fathom how anyone goes the natural childbirth route. I had dilated to 6 cm by the time I got the epidural. I wonder how much worse the pain would have been without the epidural.

Post epidural, enjoying some ice.

So my mom and Jimmy’s parents arrived around 7 or 8 a.m. and it was just a matter of time. When I got to 10 cm, I would start pushing. Things seemed to be going really fast. When they checked me again around 10 a.m., I was already at 8 cm. I thought, “This baby will be here by lunch!” Yeah, I wish!

I tried to get some rest. I fell asleep a couple of times. I couldn’t eat anything though. I was so hungry and tired. I didn’t know that I would need all my strength and energy in the next few hours. I was starting to wish I had eaten a big breakfast before we left the house.

Waiting, waiting.

When I got to 10 cm, Dr. Nash said it was time to start pushing. It was just about noon. Everyone left the room except for Jimmy, Dr. Nash and the nurse. They held my legs and told me to hold my breath and push for 10 seconds, then take a breath and push again for 10 seconds, then take a breath and push AGAIN for 10 seconds. This was how it was going to go.

Every time I had a contraction, it was time to push. It varied, but it was every couple of minutes or so. At first I thought, “This isn’t so bad.” They told me I was doing a good job at pushing, and to keep going. After a while I started to get tired. I kept looking at the clock. An hour had gone by.

With every push I expected to hear, “There it is! Here comes the head! Almost out!” just like in the movies. But the only thing I heard was, “That’s it keep pushing, push, push, push, push, push.” And then the 3 rounds of pushing would be over until the next contraction came a few minutes later. Slowly, we made progress.

I started to feel like I was running intervals on the treadmill. The nurse would say “Ok, here we go,” and I would think to myself “No, not again!” I was so tired and had no energy. I felt so weak like I couldn’t push anymore. But every time I mustered some strength and pushed.

The thing that surprised me the most was how physically hard it was. I was pulling really hard on these handles to help me bear down, and I was getting out of breath. My arms started to shake after an hour and a half. My hands felt like they couldn’t grip anything. I kept looking at the clock. Now 2 hours had gone by.

Dr. Nash said that the baby had not come far enough down to where we could use the vacuum assist. She also said that after 3 hours, we would have to start talking about C-sections.

I didn’t want a C-section. But I was trying as hard as I could, and I didn’t know what else to do. I could barely hold on to anything. I was so tired, I was falling asleep between pushes. I needed some energy, some food, a gel pack or something! I never even felt this weak or tired when I was running a half marathon!

And poor Jimmy! I was the one in labor, but he had also been up just as long, and he was also having a hard time staying awake and helping hold my leg up. But gave me encouraging smiles and words. He fed me ice, wiped at my sweaty face and held the oxygen mask for me.

It was 2:30 p.m. and I had been pushing for 2 and a half hours. By this time, I was out of breath, sweating, almost as if I HAD been running a marathon.

Dr. Nash had consulted with a surgeon about the vacuum assist. She wanted his opinion if the baby had come far enough. He came in with a bunch of nurses, and it was all sort of a blur. He looked at the printouts that were coming out of the monitors. They spoke briefly, then Dr. Nash said, “Ok, we’re going to the vacuum.”

I started to feel a little bit relieved, but knew I still had some pushing to do. She explained I would have to push while they pulled with the vacuum

I wanted the baby to come out already! The room was now filled with 7 or 8 nurses and the 2 doctors. I thought it was take a long time, but things moved really quickly.

I couldn’t see what was happening. They had the vacuum all ready and told me to push like I had been. I pushed, pushed, pushed. They said, “Keep going, keep going!” These were the words I had been waiting on. “Yes, keep going, here it comes, keep pushing.” It was working! I pushed as hard as I could.

All of a sudden, I felt like I was deflating! They were pulling the baby out. I could only feel relief, both emotionally and physically. With all the drama of how it was born, I almost didn’t hear “It’s a boy!” At that point, I had almost all but forgotten about that little detail. Oh yeah, it’s a boy! I remember seeing Jimmy cut the cord.

When the nurses asked what his name was, we told them the name we had decided on if it was a boy: Gunner James.

All I could say was “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I don’t know if I was thanking God, or the doctor or both. I guess I was saying it to everyone in the room.

Nurses tending to our pale little guy.

The baby was making some noises, but not crying. They told us that he had a temperature and a high heart rate due to the stress of the birth. Probably from being stuck behind my pelvic bone for nearly 3 hours! They were going to have to take him to the progressive care unit.

They let us hold him for a few minutes before they took him. He was so little and pale. I couldn’t believe I was looking into the face of our son. I could not believe he was ours. I had wondered for 9 months what our baby would look like. He blew away all my expectations.

Looking into his eyes for the first time.

Happy family, together at last!

Then I started to worry. Was he ok? When could I see him again? Was it serious? They assured me it was just a precaution. They told us we could visit Gunner in the progressive care unit.

When we saw him, again I was blown away. I couldn’t believe that face was our baby. I just kept looking at him, all hooked up to monitors and under a heat lamp, and thinking, wow, that’s our son!

Progressive care, under a heat lamp.

By that time, we had moved to our recovery room. We waited another half an hour, and then the nurses brought him in our room. He was all clear. Heart rate and temp were back to normal.

Finally, our family got to meet the little one they had been waiting all day to see. It had been a long, long day, so after a short visit, everyone left mommy, daddy and baby to survive their first night together.