Doesn't every good birth story start with an even better conception story? I won't divulge too many details, but let me set the scene: It's one of the first warm evenings of the summer, an early one for Portland. Your daddy and I celebrated our first wedding Anniversary May 1st at an amazing Portland restaurant called DOC. We had the chefs choice menu with complementary wine pairings. It was an outstanding dinner, we talked about how we met, all that we've been through in our years together, and how lucky we would be to someday have a son or daughter. We wondered what you would be like, more Type-A, organized and stubborn like mommy, or fun-loving, outgoing, funny and social like your daddy. We decided not to exchange gifts this year, but it turns out your daddy gave me the best gift ever on this night: You. Truth be told, this may or may not have been the night, but I believe in my heart of hearts that it was, because the evening was just too perfect not to be the night we made you, baby boy, from scratch.
Your daddy and I were quite the jet-setters in May. We had our wedding anniversary (where you were made), the next weekend we traveled to NYC for a week; mommy on business speaking at a conference and daddy as an exceptional date. Three days after returning home from NYC we hopped back on a plane to Tennessee for your daddy's bday gift to visit his Granny Ruby in Knoxville and also to attend a friends wedding in Cornersville. Mommy had yet another vacation scheduled for the following weekend, I planned to attend the Sasquatch music festival at the Gorge, little did I know I would never make it due to your surprise arrival. By surprise I mean that we were anxiously awaiting your arrival but didn't know when you might appear. Monday, May 24th, your daddy and I returned from Tennessee and we were finally settling in for a relaxing evening at home. After our crazy May travel, I was catching up online and realized it had been quite a while since, well, you know. I tried to ignore it, thinking "I'll go get a pregnancy test tomorrow, it can wait". Your daddy yelled from the kitchen "Honey, do you want a glass of wine?". My heart dropped. "No thanks!". 10 minutes passed, mind swirling, and I hopped up off the couch, threw my shoes on and grabbed my keys. Daddy asked where I was going, to which I replied "Uhh, to the store, I have cramps". I drove to the local Walgreens...as I pulled into the parking lot, I had my very first religious moment. I'm a bit embarrassed to say that I've never been the most religious person. Sure, we go to church for midnight mass at Christmas, and I was baptized, went to Catholic School and took communion as a young girl. But before you came along, I truthfully didn't know if I believed in God. I sat in the parking lot and prayed for the first time in my life. I truly prayed: hands clasped, eyes closed, head down. "Please God, let this be it, let this be real", I said aloud in my car before walking into Walgreens. I returned home and ran into the bathroom. 1 minute later, as I waited in the bathroom, I looked down at a "Pregnant" result on the test. My heart jumped into my throat. I was so excited, but also so terrified because I have always been afraid of a miscarriage; funny that I've always been a glass half full kinda gal, but at this moment I was more afraid of losing you than excited to see a positive result, just goes to show you how bad I wanted this. I walked out of the bathroom with the test behind my back. Daddy was laying on the couch watching a movie. I hesitantly whispered, smiling... "Soo, I guess I'm pregnant?", and showed him the pregnancy test. Poor daddy had no idea how to respond. "This is good news, right?", with a half smile, not quite knowing how to respond to my awkward announcement. "Yes, this is amazing news", as I fell into his arms. The next 20-30 minutes were hilarious. What do we do now? Can we even watch this movie? Wait, we're having a baby? 10 minutes after my announcement your daddy looked at me and said "Oh my God, we're having a baby". I didn't want to get excited, but allowed myself to revel in this exciting moment. We were so excited, so happy, anxious, nervous, but so overwhelmed with this amazing news. We were going to have a baby. Holy Moly!
You were due on Saturday, Jan 22nd. On Jan 23rd, I did everything I could to jumpstart your arrival. I had a pregnancy induction massage at The Allison (one of my all time favorite spas right here in Newberg), I bounced on the ball, I inhaled the spiciest thai curry I could muster, I drank raspberry tea (wives tale), had membranes stripped and we even relived the act that got us into this situation in the first place. Aside from a few exciting false alarms, nothing came of it. You were determined to take your sweet time greeting us. You were already teaching me a lesson I have needed desperately: patience.
Another week passed with the option to use jumper cables called pitocin to get you started, but I wanted you to arrive when you were ready and not a moment too soon. Alas, modern medicine has a job to do so we were forced to schedule a docs appt for Monday 1/31. At this appt, I would be required to set a date for drug-assisted eviction in the case that you didn't make your grand entrance that week. What'dya know it was the night before this dreaded appt that you decided to get this party started. Perfect timing, little fella.
At about 2am on Monday, you began to stir. I was awakened by what felt like gas pains or cramps. I got up for my hourly trip to the little girls room and just wasn't quite feeling right. Returned to the bedroom figuring it was yet another weird pregnancy symptom hitting me, and sure enough the same pain returned exactly 15 minutes after the first one. Ignore it, it's probably a false alarm, go back to sleep. Another one hit, and then another one, this time 10 minutes apart. Still, couldn't be labor, but I was burning up so we moved into the living room couch so we don't disturb daddy. I started charting the time between contractions on my cel phone because these pains were becoming suspicious. Finally I had accepted that this might, just might, be actual labor. I texted my person (my lifeline, my go-to mommy and prego who has helped me through this entire pregnancy, she was the first person I told I was knocked up, so it was only appropriate that she be my lifeline at this time in need). Of course, it was the one night she was actually sleeping at 3am. Crap.
Pains keep coming, I head into the bedroom to fetch my heating pad to try to soothe these pains for a little while (ha, yeah right). Daddy asked if everything was ok. Yes, everything is perfectly fine. I'm in huge amounts of pain but this pain means i get to meet my baby boy or girl soon, so it's cool. I answered "Yes, I'm in labor, but it's fine, go back to sleep and I'll come get you when it's time". In hindsight, this was a ridiculous notion. I'm in labor, we're doing this, but my husband is supposed be able to return to sleep after I deliver this news? He laid in bed for the next hour pretending to sleep, God knows all of the thoughts that were probably rushing through his head. I returned to the living room, laid my big ole prego ass on the couch and began to wait it out. I remember thinking to myself with each contraction "Wow, this is already a lot more painful than I expected". Based on stories everyone told me about labor and contractions, I had already decided that once my labor started, I would take a shower, blow-dry my hair, and apply a small amount of makeup (a small amount would make it look like I wasn't trying too hard to look pretty in all of my labor/delivery photos). So, that's funny. Somehow at 3am in an immense amount of pain, my appearance just wasn't something I was concerned about…imagine that.
And then, out emerges your daddy from the bedroom, guess he decided I might need his assistance. Too bad for the fellas in a situation like this, there really isn't much they can do but be a supportive hand, loyal servant, and loving husband. I asked for tylenol (again, laughing now, what was I thinking? Oh yeah, acetaminophen is totally going to knock these contractions outta the park). They teach you a ton in these birthing classes, how to sit/lay while in labor, how your husband can massage your back or shoulders to relieve labor pains. This all went out the window when my labor started. I thought I might want him to rub my back or just touch me (I'm a touchy feely kinda gal most days), but no. Don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't even look at me. It's crazy the adrenaline, excitement, and agony that all course through you at once.
We were following the 5-1-1 rule before we called the hospital. I hit my contractions to 5 minutes apart, 1 minute long, for 1 hour at about 4am. I tell daddy that I've achieved this glorious milestone, he asks if we should call the hospital and be on our way (we do live an hour away from the hospital by the way). I decline this offer, thinking I'd like to wait it out at home for as long as I can (since my birth plan is to avoid all pain medications, and resort to an epidural only if completely necessary). Daddy decided to shower at this point, hey, one of us should be pretty, right? And he also packed his hospital bag, finally. Always the procrastinator, your pops. I sat on our birthing ball and shifted side to side during contractions. During an actual contraction, I thought I might die. But it was funny how in between contractions I remember thinking "ok, I can do this, just hang in there". It was at this time Steve put our song on the stereo - it's our song, now all of our song…it's called Your Hand in Mine by Explosions in the Sky (this is also the soundtrack to your birth video). He put this song on and it gave me so much strength. It filled me with emotion, I started to tear up mid-contraction as I reflected on what's happening and what was in store for us. Again, so insanely excited but also scared because these contractions were…ahem…PAINFUL.
At about 5:30a, Daddy came into the living room and asked again "Are you sure you don't want to call the doc and go to the hospital, it sounds like this is getting painful" (I was starting to moan through my contractions, this helped. Again, your stubborn Mommy answered "NO! I want to stay here a while longer". As he turned around to walk back into the kitchen, another contraction hit, and suddenly I realized this was my limit. "Go start the car". I've never seen him move quicker, he smiled and shook his head. "Ok, honey". He called the hospital to let them know we were on our way "Uhm hi, my name is Steve Sizemore and I think my wife is in labor?". You think? Listen buddy, this is labor, you tell them to get my bed warm and ready, we're coming. Nursing staff asked a few questions, confirmed that I was infect in labor (gee, thanks), and welcomed us to head on in. I called my mom "Mom, it's time…" I could only get through a few words before another contraction hit and I handed the phone to daddy. On the phone your Grandma sounded excited, but of course was going to take her time getting to the hospital, she needed to shower and she knew realistically that this was going to be a long day (Also, your Grandma has never been the most timely of ladies, good thing she's always the life of the party). Your Grandpa, on the other hand, basically jumped out of bed when we called him. Again, I wanted to be the voice he heard when we told him it's time. I was on the phone with Grandpa telling him the same to which he replied "Ok, I'll meet you at the hospital". And he wasn't kidding, he actually beat us there and was waiting outside upon our arrival; always the dependable guy. We grabbed our bags and headed out for this hour drive. It sucked, but it was bizarre sitting in traffic thinking about all of these people heading in to work as I was in labor heading to go give birth. Not exactly another day at the office. Your daddy was a swift and soft driver, avoiding those dreaded potholes. We arrived at the hospital by about 645am. I remember hearing a voice as daddy opened his driver side door. "Do you guys need some help". I thought how nice, the hospital staff has valet assistants. Nope, it was just your anxious Grandpa waiting at the front doors for us. "She's right in the middle of a contraction and refuses to move, let's give her a bit".
The contraction ended and the countdown began "How quickly can we get in there?". As I walked to the elevator, I realized that getting into that hospital room wasn't going to offer any relief since I had already decided to decline pain medication. Crap. Thankfully our nurse was a JOY, I loved her. She introduced herself as my dedicated nurse, she would be here for the long haul until my baby came. Thank God she's cool and funny and normal. I laid on the bed and they wanted to start hooking me up to machines and sticking needles in me. I informed the nurse that I will not be taking any needles, thank you very much. I outlined my "birth plan" which contained really just two rules: Do not under any circumstances offer me pain medication or an epidural (I wanted to have to ask for it. I know myself, and having to ask for help is always difficult for me, so I thought this would be a good way to delay the epi and avoid pain medication altogether, both I felt very strongly about). She put monitors on my belly to make sure you were OK, at which point I asked how long this was going to take, because I'd like to take a bath. She checked and I was dilated to 3cm (I had been dilated to 2 cm for weeks).
Within 15 minutes I was laying in the bathtub with the water running because the drain wasn't working. As it turned out, running water was a nice, calming distraction. The warm water helped immensely, taking the pressure off just a bit. Your Grandma and Daddy took turns supervising me. Offering a cold compress and a towel pillow when I needed it. It is incredible what an isolating experience labor is. It was just me and my pain. And you, of course. Nothing could help me, nothing would make it go away, but what got me through it all was knowing that it wouldn't last forever, and meeting you was my light at the end of this crazy tunnel. I laid in the bathtub for what ended up being 2.5 hrs, however, it just FLEW by. It did not feel like that long at all. As it turns out, when you're focused on something as intense as this, time is no object. The nurse kept stopping in to "check on me" every 20 minutes or so. I could see it in her eyes as she asked me "Are you feeling ok? Anything you NEED?"…what she was really saying was "Are you SURE you don't want that epidural yet?". Ok, Ok. I asked what time it was, and it was about 11:30am. The contractions were about 2 mins apart at this point, lasting for what seemed like forEVER. I started to do the math. It's 11:30am. I've been in labor since 2am. This could last a while. So, what is the advantage of "waiting it out" for an epidural? I knew that an epi would slow my labor down, but I just didn't want to wait another 12 hours, why not just go for it and relieve this pain? After all, you DID throw me into labor all on your own, which is really what I wanted, to know that you were ready to enter this world without pharmaceuticals to jumpstart what I wanted to be a natural process. Nature had taken its course and it was time to let the anesthesiologist do his job.
The nurse stepped in again and as soon as I saw her face, I asked "So, tell me about the process for an epidural". She explained it would take about an hour to round up the anesthesiologist, so from the time I decided I wanted it, it could take an hour to make it happen. I pressed "Go", under one circumstance. I told her I did not want to get out of the bathtub. I wanted to run from the bathtub to the hospital bed and have them put that thing in ASAP. No waiting, no laying in the bed. She'd see what she could do, and left. An hour later I was sitting on the edge of my hospital bed, squeezing daddy's hand, and giving in to the epidural. Within 30 minutes relief set it and I was a happy camper. Only pressure during contractions, and instead of moaning through them, I was watching peacefully as each contraction passed. Glorious, amazing epidural. Thank God for you. Also, I was only at 5cm dilated, so happy that I made the decision to get the epidural. I still had not taken any pain medication and was pretty happy about this. I began to calm myself as the contractions subsided. It was time to check in with social networks now that I had my wits about me. What had I missed? Did my friends and coworkers know what had happened? Sure enough, everyone was in the know thanks to your proud and excited daddy. I checked work email because that's what I do when I need some distraction. I sent a few last minute urgent emails and decided I would not be attending the conference call I had scheduled for 3pm (I think my boss will let me out of this one, I thought). Maternity leave starts now…yesssss. 3.5 fantastic months off, I was so excited.
The next 12 or so hours you showed slow but steady progress. I was dilating at about 1cm every 2 hrs or so, I could feel the contractions getting stronger with increased pressure, but I felt no pain and was happy on this gorgeous sunny day as I gazed out the window at Portland's beautiful West Hills. I did get hungry, and though you're not supposed to eat or drink if you've had an epidural, I did steal a dinner roll or two from the food trays they kept taunting me with. The hospital staff was incredible, no one ever at any point offered pain medication, nor did they suggest pitocin even once (I was vehemently opposed to this drug, I wanted to avoid it at all costs, and I did, yay!). Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Cam were there all day long. Your Auntie Tracy showed up around noon, and Lori arrived around 4p. Your uncle Will and Aunt Amber arrived later around 10pm (spoiler alert: this labor went well into the evening). I spent the afternoon pretending to sleep, playing dice, watching TV, and waiting on YOU!
The afternoon was pretty uneventful until The Bachelor came on (Who will Brad Womack give the final rose to?). I remember it was 8pm and I was excited to finally be able to watch something entertaining on TV, pass the time with some quality reality TV entertainment. During a commercial, I laid on my side. We were having issues with the epidural only "taking" on my right side. At the time I was laying on my right side, facing the monitors and holding your daddy's hand. Suddenly, I felt it. A full on contraction was coming like a freight train, and there was no stopping it. It got stronger, I opened my eyes in terror, asking your daddy to look at the monitor "Is that a contraction starting up?". "Yes, why?". "Because I can feel it. The room was silent, peaceful, and dimmed, and suddenly I was feeling a contraction coming on as I was 8 cm dilated. It.HURT. I started screaming, crying, convulsing. Make it stop. Daddy forgets that we can call a nurse by pushing a button on our bed. He starts to run out of the room to find my nurse (as I was DEMANDING), when Grandma took over, ran out and screamed "her epidural wore off, someone find a nurse and get in here!". The nurse showed up, and by the way, remember the nurse who I loved who promised to be with me until baby came? Yeah, her shift ended and now she was replaced by this young 23 year old "nurse" who I did not like, at all. Awesome. "Oh honey, are you in pain?". To which I replied (crying) "Yes, find the anesthesiologist, bring me more epidural". I had pushed the epidural button twice, but strong awful contractions kept on coming. My memory gets fuzzy here, all I really remember is so much pain, where is that stupid anesthesiologist, make it stop. She came in "you're in pain?". Yes, dummy, obviously. Fix it. Within 45 minutes they had me back on track. And I can honestly say that this is the only bad moment of my entire labor and delivery experience.
I continued progressing, and finally by about 10:30pm, I had progressed to 9cm dilated, far enough for the nurses to call my OB. This was exciting, something was about to happen. We were all ready and excited, could not wait to do this. The nurse came back about an hour later and checked me, I was officially at 10cm dilated. Time to push. I was so ready. 22 full hours of labor, let's do this please. She wanted to see how hard I might need to push, so we did a practice push, to which she quickly ordered me to STOP PUSHING, because the baby was low, and we don't want that baby coming out before my doctor gets there (good news!). So all at once, the excitement and anticipation were at their height. My doc was on her way, they were setting up. Finally, I was going to get to meet you. Everyone made their wagers on whether you were a boy or a girl, and what time you would be born.
The Doctor arrived and we were on our way. Boys went into the hall while the girls readied themselves for some action. In the room was your Grandma (front and center) and your Aunts Tracy and Lori, my best friends. Lori was on videocamera duty, Tracy was on left leg, and that dumb nurse was on my right leg. As I started pushing, dummy nurse kept letting my right leg drop. It was her ONLY job, and she couldn't do it. I remember becoming so excited as I would hear the ladies squeal as you made your gradual entrance into the world. Now, your Daddy swore up and down that he would be assisting me right up near my head, never glancing down at the horror happening below the waist. Of course, once he heard Tracy's squeals of delight, he couldn't help but glance once, and he grew a big, excited smile when he peaked at how close we were to meeting you. You had hair, they could see hair and i was SO excited. I could gauge how close we were getting by the ladies squeals. At one point, your Grandma explained "We've got to be getting close, this push could be the last", to which I impolitely asked her to not speak. I'm someone who doesn't want to know how much longer the drive will be, or what time we're "supposed" to get there. I am so impatient that I need to remind myself to enjoy the ride. And this I did not want to rush. Sure enough, I hear the doctor say "Hi Sweetheart", knowing that the head was out and she was greeting you, I heard "one shoulder, and now the other", and I knew we were almost there. Finally, I looked down, and there you were, my beautiful baby. I looked up at your daddy to find out if you were a boy or girl. He announced "It's a Sawyer", which my busy brain could not process. What does that mean? What's a Sawyer? Finally I realized what he meant… "It's a boy?"…."YES!". My smile was impossible to get rid of. I looked down and saw you coming toward me and my arms opened as every single ounce of my being screamed "MINE". You were mine, I was yours, and I wanted you next to me as soon as I could get to you. The doctor put you on my chest immediately and started cleaning you up. I was crying, so excited, so happy, so insanely euphoric. There was no one in that room, in the world, in that moment, except you and me. It was just us, time stood still.
It was time to cut your cord, to cut the physical connection between you and I. This was sad, but I was happy and proud to watch you become an individual, a tiny person of your own. The doctor asked if Daddy is cutting the cord, to which he proudly responded "Yes I am". He cut you free and they put your naked body on my bare chest, but first you had to poop, so they laid a diaper down so you didn't poo on mama (little did I realize this is a habit you would continue to enjoy into infancy, pooping on your mama is your favorite). Your naked, warm body on mine felt amazing. It was truly euphoric. My baby boy was here, with us. We arrived at this hospital just us two, and we were going to leave as a happy family of 3. Pretty amazing. The minute they laid you on my chest, I was overtaken with emotion. I began to sob uncontrollably, so happy, so zen, so amazed and honored to have had the opportunity to give birth to this beautiful baby boy. You were (and still are) the most incredibly beautiful thing I've ever seen. I was and still am in absolute awe of you and what had just happened. You laid on my chest and immediately started lifting your head. You had the strongest neck as you started moving yourself down toward my breast for your first feeding. My baby boy was 9 days late and hungry as a hippo. We all could not believe how strong you were. And those tiny cries were the sweetest sounds I've ever heard. Finally, the night was coming to an end. At about 2am, people started to clear out and go home. I remember seeing your Grandma and Grandpa put their coats on and prepare to leave the hospital and go home. Wait, what? They're leaving? Oh my God, my parents are leaving, and I'm supposed to take care of this baby all by myself? Play it cool, act like you've got this. I couldn't believe they were leaving me alone with you. Of course, as it turned out, we were fine. It was crazy the realization that I now had a child who was completely dependent on me for everything. Such an amazing honor, a gift.
You breastfed right away, we spent the next 3 days in the hospital, and on the final day before we were about to be discharged, the doctors realized you were jaundiced. What is Jaundice? It's when a chemical called bilirubin (sp?) is so high in the babies system that it turns their skin a yellowish orangish color. This is a concern because a high bilirubin count can cause brain damage. The pediatrician decided to put you under special lights to decrease your bilirubin count, which meant you had to spend an entire 24 hour period in the nursery, visiting Mommy only for feedings every 3 hours. I was horrified. After a brief mental breakdown as I tried to understand what was wrong with my baby and why they were taking him from me, I pulled it together (with lots of help from Daddy), and we were on board with the treatment. As you laid underneath the lights in the nursery, all of your nurses were in awe. They had never seen a baby so strong and active. You were not happy about being naked with goggles on underneath the lights, but instead of crying, you would crawl. A newborn, crawling. This doesn't happen. The nurses had to show everyone how you could crawl from one side of the bassinet to the other. Also, they laid you on your tummy. You decided to roll over. A newborn, rolling over from tummy to back. Again, this does not happen. But apparently in the world of Sawyer Lee, anything is possible.
Finally your bilirubin count was at a safe level, your skin tone was beautiful, and it was time for us to go home. It was a chilly sunny Portland day on Friday, February 4th, when we walked out of the hospital carrying our brand new beautiful, perfect baby boy. I sat with you in the backseat as Daddy drove us home. It was quiet in the car as I watched you sleep. I stared at that perfect face, remembering the 12 years I spent terrified that I might be infertile, that I may never have children (for no good reason; some people are afraid of spiders, I was afraid of infertility, that's how bad I wanted you). And here I was, heading home with this beautiful baby. I was given a gift from God, and I thanked him. I quietly started to cry with happiness. Your daddy looked in the rearview mirror (getting a glimpse of the hormonal wife he was bringing home, oh dear), he asked what was wrong, which made me tear up a little more. I was realizing that now, all of a sudden in this moment, I had it all. I had everything I've ever wanted, I have a purpose and a goal, a reason for living, a reason for being a good person, and what hit me was that anything from this day forward is really just a bonus, icing on the cake. I had my beautiful baby boy, a truly amazing and supportive husband, and now I had this beautiful family, just the three of us. I can't imagine being lucky enough to have the opportunity to do this all over again so we can give you a little brother or sister someday, but even if that isn't in the cards for us, I have everything I need. Anything more is just a lucky bonus. It's amazing how having a baby introduced to your life puts things into perspective. Our love for you grows each day. You have brightened my life in so many ways. It's so cliche, but the saying is true. I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't know what I ever did before you came into my life. Every day you make me smile, no matter what is going on in the world, you make it better. You have made everything better and I love you more than I realized was humanly possible. Thank you for being such a blessing in all of our lives. We love you, little fella.
Also, a big thank you to your Grandparents; Grandma stayed with us the first few days when you were home, and then Grandpa took over helping out. Day and night, crying, emotional, sleep deprived me. We are lucky to have these two angels in our lives and will be forever grateful for their support and continued help. Love you, Grandma and Grandpa. <3
