The Arrival of Kreed | A Labor and Delivery Story
And just like that a year is gone and our baby boy is one. I have shared Our Infertility Story from start to finish; the beginning, the IVF process, the transfer day, and the early pregnancy. It only seems right that I (finally) share our labor story.
Let’s start the story on Friday, March 18th; my 36 week appointment. I was having Braxton Hicks contractions and was dilated to a 2. My doctor said that it could be anytime; maybe days or weeks…there was no way to know.
On Saturday, we grieved the loss of my husband’s grandmother at her funeral. Even though we knew that her time here on Earth was coming to an end, it was devastating because we wanted her to meet Kreed SO BADLY.
Throughout the funeral I was having mild contractions but nothing serious.
On Sunday morning we want to church and then to the gym as per usual. I shamelessly took a selfie because, hello, 36 weeks pregnant and still enough energy to take on a treadmill!
I continued having contractions and some were even pretty strong. You know, that ‘hold on a second let me just breathe for a minute’ type of contraction.
My husband wanted to go shed hunting that afternoon which sounded like fun..so I threw on some boots and tagged along. I can remember how beautiful it was outside that day. Gorgeous weather. Not a cloud in the sky!
Now, I had never been shed hunting and I had no idea what I was in for. Basically, you just walk around trying to find antlers that deer have shed. And by ‘walk around’ I mean trudge through waist high grass, jump over branches, leap over shallow streams and even scale a mountain or two. (Ok, maybe not the mountain part, but you get the picture.)
All of the extra activity must have convinced Kreed that the outside world was a pretty fun place to be because that evening I started having stronger contractions.
I can remember the night like it was yesterday. I made taco salad, something I craved throughout my whole pregnancy, but this time the smell had me vomiting like it was morning sickness all over again.
I knew that that could be a sign of early labor but I wasn’t quite convinced…until my contractions started getting a little bit stronger and more frequent.
My sister is a labor and delivery nurse and I had her come over around 9:30pm that Sunday night because I refused to believe that that is what Braxton Hicks felt like and desperately needed her expert opinion. Sure enough, she did her little belly hardness check during a contraction and said that this was probably going to be it, but that it might be awhile.
Oh my goodness.
So many emotions ran through my mind at that point. I was scared of the thought of having a preterm baby, excited that I would meet him sooner than expected, panicked that maybe I didn’t have everything ready, relieved that I wasn’t crazy in thinking that these were real contractions.
If I hadn’t ‘nested’ before, I totally did after she left. I triple checked our hospital bags, cleaned the kitchen, folded and put away every piece of clothing in the house, and rearranged Kreed’s diaper station at least ten times.
And then we waited.
Around 11:00pm we put the puppies to bed and Jesse went to sleep on the couch, just in case we needed to go to the hospital sometime in the night. (Cant wake the sleeping fur babies of course!)
While he slept I walked around the house like a crazy person. We’re talking laps, people.
I guess I was a tad bit nervous??
Around midnight the contractions were getting stronger and about 5 minutes apart. I still wanted to wait it out awhile longer so I watched Knocked Up, you know, the movie about the guy and the girl who get pregnant and accidentally fall in love and in the end she screams her face off having the baby? Ya, that was my movie of choice.
By around 3:00am Jesse woke up and realized I was having a lot stronger contractions and having to really focus on my breathing throughout them. He got a little panicky and thought it would be best that we go into the hospital.
Let’s be real he was a lot panicky.
Don’t tell him I told you. He would never admit it.
We got to the 4th floor at around 3:30am on Monday, March 21st and they checked me. Sure enough, I was at a 5 and so they told me I would be sticking around for the long haul.
Ready or not it was GO TIME!
We text my sister, mama, and mother in law, and my best friend (who would also be doing labor and delivery pictures.) and let them all know. In my birth plan we always planned on them being in the room with us regardless of if my sister was working or not.
Mom showed up along with my mother in law, Staci, around 5:30am and we walked the halls.
And walked some more.
I wear a step counter and we reached my step goal by 7:00am which was over 10,000 steps!
Apparently I should have babies more often!
My sister Kirsten arrived at about 8:30 after she dropped my niece off at school and then my friend Mandy got there.
Finally, at about 8:30am I was checked again and was at a 7! I pumped my fist into the air like some kind of rockstar and told everyone “this is a piece of cake!” To which my mother in law replied, “oh honey, you just wait.”
At this point I didn’t think labor was too bad. In fact, my doctor came in about 30 minutes after my last check and made the comment that she didn’t even believe I was in labor. I was smiling and laughing and didn’t really mind the contractions (God blessed me with a great pain tolerance.)
She checked me again at this point and realized that sure enough, I was in labor of course, but that I was still at a 7.
They started a pitocin drip to speed things up. But at around 10am when my doctor came back to check me again and I was still at a 7.
An hour and a half without any change!?
Now I was a little bit annoyed at myself.
I wanted my baby.
Somebody do something to give me this baby.
She broke my water and really amped up the pitocin.
Well, if I thought things were ‘progressing’ before I was completely nuts. The contractions started coming on stronger and more frequent. At one point I was 112% sure that my back was going to actually snap in half.
Mom had me get on all fours to relieve some of the pain. She’s an angel. That was the best decision I could’ve made as it relieved so much pressure off of my back.
Things started getting pretty intense over the next couple of hours.
I can remember just trying to focus on my breathing, telling myself “it’s fine, it’s fine, this is fine, no big deal.”
Silent tears streamed down my face. This was painful.
Around 1:00pm sweat was pouring down my face. Mom tried to offer me a cool washcloth which I (rudely) turned away. The whole bed shook from the force of the muscles in my body spasming as I went through transition.
Which I wasn’t expecting to happen.
Read the baby books.
My nurses (who were absolutely fabulous) weren’t going to check me until around 2 o’clock but that was an hour away and we were pretty sure it was time.
Mom sent my sister, Kirsten, to go and get them to check me again.
I was fully dialed and ready to get that baby out.
Things moved very quickly after that. There was a lot of equipment moved around and my doctor came in. My feet went into those absolutely ridiculous (ok not that bad but totally miserable for this modest girl) stirrups.
At around 1:30pm the pushing started.
Nobody teaches you how to do it and at first all I could think about was not pooping (every mom’s worst nightmare, am I right?) and keeping my facial expressions cute. I was getting photographed, after all.
That theory went out the window in a hurry.
I finally got one good push in and my doctor softly said “yes. That right there…keep doing that.” (How are labor and delivery doctors so calm?)
So I did that.
At one point I yelled at her “are you kidding me, can’t you just pull him out!?” This wasn’t funny to me, but everyone else seemed to think I was Adam Sandler or something.
I was completely serious.
I was done.
I was tired.
I sat through one contraction and told myself “you have to do this. You knew that this would happen. You knew that you would want to give up. You can’t give up.”
Then, I gave it my all. I could hear the baby’s heartbeat monitors beside me. They kept wavering. The next thing I knew an oxygen mask was on my face.
Why was an oxygen mask on my face?
Was our baby ok?
What was happening?
Everyone just told me to keep pushing and so I did just that. Finally, another two contractions, another two good pushes, and our baby was out.
2:01pm. He was here.
They laid our sweet 6lb 1oz 18 3/4″ Kreed on my chest and in that moment I was forever changed. I looked at our little miracle and felt a love that is totally indescribable.
All of the struggle through infertility and the pain and pushing of labor couldn’t touch the happiness I felt and still feel to this day.
A Creed is a statement of faith and our Kreed…he is a statement of our faith. His birth is proof that God works for those who love and believe in His plan.
Thank you all so much for reading the story of how our son was made and how he came into this world. Your support means more to us than we can say.