Labor and Delivery

The time was 4:00am on July 22^nd when I felt for the first time a genuine labor contraction. As I was half asleep, I didn’t think much of it until about 12 minutes later when I had another one. And another one. And another one. I woke Devin up around 4:30 to inform him I thought I was going into labor. He immediately started timing my contractions. Devin went to work at 7am, and while at work, he continued to text me asking me how far apart my contractions were. At about 7:40am, I began to bounce on my giant blue exercise ball. I had heard that bouncing can alleviate some of the pressure in your pelvis and speed up delivery. When I stood up after a good bouncing, there was a gush of water! My water had broke. I immediately texted Devin saying that I thought my water had broke. He was home in 10 minutes flat. He scrambled like eggs around the apartment gathering the essentials and the non-essentials for the Hospital. Devin gave me a blessing and by 8:20am we were off to the hospital. When we got to the hospital there was a valet service that parked our car for us, and then Devin wheeled me in a wheel chair to Labor and Delivery on the 5^th floor of the hospital. That was my first legitimate wheel chair ride. I’m not going to lie, it made me feel important. “Out of the way, this lady is gonna have a baby!!!”

I was admitted to the hospital, and shortly there after received an IV (my first one… it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be) and a variety of other tubes were put in other orifices. I waited a few hours before requesting the epidural. The nurse said that the anesthesiologist would be in in just 5 to 10 minutes. I waited for the anesthesiologist for what seemed like an eternity, by the time he came in I was dilated to a 5.

When the anesthesiologist walked in, he was wearing green scrubs with red and pink Valentines Day suspenders on. My first thought was, “this clown is going to be putting the giant needle in my spine?” But leaving his less than professional outfit aside, he did a wonderful job because I hardly felt a thing.

The epidural, I might add, was amazing! When I arrived at the hospital I had been enduring contraction after contraction for the past 4 hours, and endured them for yet another 4 hours before receiving the epidural. The contractions were close to unbearable. When one would come along, Devin would try to comfort me by saying something funny as I sat there with my eyes closed, fists clenched, and wriggling in immense pain until the contraction subsided. Before the epidural I spent every minute dreading the time when another contraction would come. All I wanted to do was die… lay down and die! But after the epidural, I suddenly had the will to live again! Labor actually became a somewhat pleasant experience. As I lay there waiting to dilate to a 10, Devin read to me (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows) while he hand fed me ice chips and I couldn’t have enjoyed myself more. In fact, my mom came around 1:30 and was disgusted by how much pain I wasn’t in and she still insists that she was born in the wrong generation and wishes she had been able to enjoy the luxuries that an epidural offers.

By 3:30pm I was dilated to a 10 and ready to push. My doctor was nowhere in sight. The nurse insisted that he was on his way and that we should proceed without him. I thought that was kinda strange. What does this guy get paid for? Devin the nurse and I pretty much had the baby on his way out when the doctor finally peaked his head in. I pushed for about 25 minutes and baby Silas was born at 4:07pm. The heavy weight champ weighed in at 9 lbs 4 oz and was 20.5 inches long! Big babies run in my family, but I hardly imagined myself giving birth to such a large baby, especially with it being my first pregnancy. Everything about him is a bit bigger than average I’d say—his hands, feed, and head—are all quite big. When he finally came, I noticed that my belly immediately deflated like a balloon, and when the doctor placed the baby on my belly immediately after entering this world, I thought someone had placed a bowling ball in my lap. It’s still hard for me to believe that I carried him around in my belly for so long.

When the doctor was sewing me up he mentioned that I was a grade A pusher. I thought that maybe he said that to all his patients to make them feel better after the whole ordeal, but he said that I really did do a good job. I’m thinking about putting that in my resume as a skill. Skill: Grade A pusher during child birth. What do you think? I think it will really impress potential employers.

Anyway, the whole labor experience really wasn’t as scary as I imagined it would be. Devin did a wonderful job! He didn’t even come close to passing out. He helped during the pushing and he also cut the umbilical cord. My mom was able to stay for the birth as well. She was so excited! She said, “It was so interesting, I’ve never seen child birth from that angle before!” I was glad to make my mother’s day, even if it meant being overly exposed and gawked at. Devin’s parents had initially decided not to come to the birth and were just going to come to the baby blessing. Deep down inside though, I knew it would be hard to keep the anxious first time grandparents away. Devin texted them that morning telling them that my water had broken and that we were on our way to the hospital. Devin’s dad replied with, “we are on our way.” Within 9 short hours they drove up from Heber, AZ and were at the hospital to welcome their first grandchild. It was nice to have them here for a few days, even though they spent most of their time hanging out in the hospital room and cooped up in our small apartment.

Well folks, that’s a wrap. Baby Silas is alive and well. His favorite past times are eating, pooping and sleeping and we couldn’t be prouder parents. Until next time, you stay classy.

Devin and I in hopes of inducing labor, went up the Alpine Loop and went for a little hike. It might have worked because 3 days later my water broke

This is me at full girth... a mere 3 days before labor.

I had a total of 5 tubes going into my body... I couldn't move very far without tugging on one of them. Very restricting...

This is Devin and I reaping the benefits of an epidural. I was shaking uncontrollably so my mom kept adding blankets to my bed. After they gave me the epidural they made me lay on my side. When I switched to my other side the baby's heartbeat would slow down so they made me stay on my left side and wear an oxygen mask (to help the heartbeat stabilize) I was on my left side for 5 hours...

Do you smell that? That's right its Silas fresh out of the oven...

(top photo)This is the first time that I got to hold baby Silas. The other funny thing about this picture is my hair. Just before I pushed the baby out, i asked Devin if he would kindly put my hair up in a "bun." His attempts are not the worst I've seen, but I still laughed when I finally saw these pictures....

(picture on the bottom)In the hospital I didn't like sleeping alone in the hospital bed. And i couldn't bare to see Devin trying to sleep in the stiff chair. So we as a family all crammed onto the hospital bed. I could tell that this sleeping situation made the nurses a little uncomfortable... every time they came into the room and saw us all on the bed together they averted their eyes, as if what we were doing was inappropriate. I can assure you that that was not the case.

This is the baby's room!

Okay, so there is this reflex that most newborns have that's call the Startle Reflex, as you can imagine from the name, it's when the baby startles when they hear a loud noise or are touched unexpectedly. Our baby.... just so happens to be really good at this reflex. He is constantly doing this (see pictures above) with his arms. It looks like he is conducting an orchestra.

This pictures illustrates just how amazing the human body is. This picture was taken just a few days after Silas was born. Seeing this, you may ask yourself, "How on earth does a 9lb. 4oz. baby fit in there (my belly)?" I'm not sure, but somehow, he fit in my belly... along with all my other guts.

Silas likes to sleep on your chest like a little tree frog. I'm pretty sure this is how he slept while in my womb.

Baby Silas sleeps in all sorts of strange and seemingly uncomfortable positions. He doesn't seem to mind though....

Choosing a Baby Name:
My experience has been that the ideal situation for choosing a baby name is this. When people ask, “so have you picked out any names yet?” Either respond with, “no.” or “yes, and the name is going to be (list off a name that’s not too out of the ordinary like John, Matthew, or Nickolas”) This may not be the real name you have chosen, but it will likely ensure no negative comments. What possible bad things could come from a distinguished name like John, right? Keep the real name a secret! When it is good and legal, like permanently on the birth certificate, then you can tell people. Because at that point, hopefully they will realize their opinion doesn’t matter and they will feel no obligation to make known their like or dislike of the name, thus leaving you and your chosen baby name alone.

This has been my experience.
Person A: “So have you picked out a baby name?”
Stephanie: “Well, kinda”
Person A: “So what did you have in mind?”
Stephanie: “Well, Devin really likes the name Silas, so I think we might go with that.”
Person A: “Silas, really? (face usually crumples in disgust) Isn’t that like the bad guy’s name on Heroes?
Stephanie: “Actually his name is Siler, and yes, really.”
Person A: “Isn’t there a crazy delusional character in the Da Vinci Code with that name?
Stephanie: “Yes, the albino Monk is named Silas.”
Person A: (After feelings of disgust and dislike are made known, then comes the inevitable list of other more suitable suggestions)“How about something like Miles, or Tyler? Oh I know! Why don’t you name him Maddox, or Hercules?” (In other words, anything other than Silas would be good…)
Stephanie: “I’ll think about it, thanks.”
You’d think after some of the reactions I’ve gotten that I’ve decided to name the child Adolf or Hannibal.
In my mind I’m thinking, “Yes, Silas is the name of the delusional albino Monk in a fictional story line, but it also happens to be the name of one of Paul’s (as in the great apostle from the BIBLE, a pretty popular story if you can remember) proseliting side kick in the book of Thessalonians!”

Other instances where I have chosen to reveal baby’s name resulted in chuckles or accusations of “giving one a hard time.” As if revealing the name Silas was a cruel practical joke to be played on someone. That was probably the most disheartening outcome of revealing our baby’s chosen name to an individual. After my mom (yes, she is regrettably the culprit) finally realized that we were indeed serious and not trying to “pull anyone’s leg” she quickly repented and accepted the fate of having one grandson named Silas Austin. I think she has since recovered.

Next time, (and I suggest this plan of action for anyone not planning on naming their child something mundane and common), I plan on telling everyone that the baby’s name is Charles or Daniel, or at least until he comes and his name is put on the official birth certificate. What could be said then?

On Circumcision:
To snip or not to snip. Some controversy has arisen as to whether or not a parent should circumcise their child. It use to be that all parents circumcised their child because it was believed that it was a medical need. Now, however, research has shown that there is in fact no medical need to circumcise your child and less and less parents are opting to do it. It use to be that 90% or more of all baby’s were circumcised in the US, now, numbers have dropped to around 50%.
What is this nonsense about there being no medical need for circumcision? In fact, insurance companies (including Medicaid) no longer cover the procedure because it has been labeled as no longer medically necessary. Alone, saving your child from a lifetime of humiliation is mental medical need enough in my opinion, not to mention that circumcision has been proven to be more cleanly and to reduce the contraction of sexually transmitted diseases included HIV and AIDS. Where do they get off saying there is no medical need? Some have argued, how could you inflict so much pain and discomfort on your tiny infant for something unnecessary? I say, it’s better to do it now when the infant is able to quickly forget the pain, than to have the procedure done when the child is 15 and has to remember the pain of not only the procedure itself, but the emotional pain sustained by boyhood foreskin.
When Devin and I discussed whether or not to circumcise our child, the answer was obvious. Why would you want to expose your child to the inevitable names that come from fellow peers in the locker room, or cause your child that uncomfortable silence when his spouse for the first time realizes things just don’t look quite right. Worse yet, I dread trying to explain to my small son why his doesn’t look quite like dad’s. “Sorry son. It just wasn’t in the budget when you were born.”
This clearly is an opinion, and I don’t want to offend anyone. Some have likened circumcision to choosing to pierce your baby girl’s ears. It’s simply a cultural decision, and what you decide doesn’t matter either way.

I’ve already resolved to utilize the conveniences of modern medicine. Why pass up the opportunity to completely numb your body from the waist down as a potentially giant 8 lb baby tries to make its way through an opening that is only meant to be a centimeter in diameter? What I’m referring to, of course, is the epidural. Some women are concerned that if they do opt to have an epidural they have in a way demeaned their womanhood, given in, and thus feel like maternal failures. I, however, when thinking about the excruciating pain—the ripping and tearing that is childbirth—I gladly thank my lucky stars that I live in a day and age where I can forego all the feeling in my lower half. All I have to do is somehow cope with the fact that a giant needle and catheter will be jammed between two of my vertebrae and into my spinal column (other concerns include having no control over bowl function…). It is also highly likely that Devin will pass out early on (he has a bit of a weak stomach when it comes to these things) leaving me all-alone in the delivery room. I hope that it won’t be me trying to coach him through the labor process saying, “pull yourself together! I’m trying to have a baby here!”

The countdown to baby time has begun in the small Ellsworth household. Seven short days now stand between now and our official due date, July 24th. I had hoped that the baby would be here by now, but unfortunately, he’s stubborn and apparently wishes to incubate a little longer. My guess is that he doesn’t really need it, as past ultrasounds have indicated that I might be giving birth to a baby in the 92nd percentile. This could develop into a rare medical condition called cephelapelvic disproportion. In other words, baby too big to fit through mommy’s pelvic structure. I keep imagining myself giving birth to something with a grown man’s head on a baby’s body (something like Devin’s bearded face on a 9 lb. Infant’s body).

Devin has become pretty desperate and anxious for baby’s arrival. The other day he attempted to use gravity to get the baby to come by shaking me up and down. When that failed to do the trick, I turned to bouncing rigorously on an exercise ball, doing power squats, and taking long evening walks. None of which have appeared to do me any good. I’m still waiting like a hen on an egg for this labor to start. It’s weird, because I’ve never actually been in labor before and I keep wondering what it feels like and what to expect. Is it possible to be in labor, and not really know it? Could I somehow miss it, and become one of the horror stories you hear about where the woman accidentally gives birth to her baby in the toilet? As Devin has pointed out in the past, it’s like waiting to be hit by a giant bus. You’re not sure when exactly it will happen, but when it does, you know it’s going to hurt real bad.
I almost wish my water would just break. That seems like a much easier diagnosis. So many people will tell you, “now don’t go to the hospital until your good and ready.” What does that mean? My mom keeps reminding me (along with the importance of conditioning nipples for nursing) what good labor is. The doctor also, in an effort to avoid unnecessary hospital visits, reminds me every week that I shouldn’t go to the hospital until my contractions are 2 minutes apart lasting 45 to 60 seconds. What does that mean? Isn’t everyone different? Here comes my fear of giving birth in the toilet again. It would be so much easier to just say, “okay when a giant gush of fluid comes out, go to the hospital.” Now that… would be ideal. Unfortunately, that is only the case for a small fraction of the female population (approximately 10%). Most likely, my doctor will break my water for me after I’m in hard-core labor.

So what is this blog non-sense all about anyway?

I've decided after a copious amount of peer pressure to begin my own blog. I figure with my very first baby on its way (approximately 18 days till due date) I should make an effort to make available the very interesting events of my life, and the soon to be life of my unborn son. Enjoy.