The Story of Addyson's Birth

My friend Shannon offered to take Addyson's one year pictures, since her birthday is next week. She did a fantastic job! We went to a beautiful park here in Boise and luckily Addyson was feeling cooperative! Here are a few of my favorites:










WARNING: REALLY LONG POST.


I've been somewhat sentimental lately thinking of Addyson's birth, and I realized that I have never recorded the events of that day. If you find birth stories boring, or don't care for gruesome details, then this post is not for you. Go google your name instead.

Addyson's due date was October 27, 2007. That date came and went with no signs of oncoming labor. I was huge, uncomfortable and huge. Did I mention huge?




I can't believe I'm sharing this photo. Have I no shame?


My house was spotless because I didn't want to come home from the hospital to a messy house. The nursery was painted, crib assembled and diapers bought. All baby clothes were washed (in Dreft, of course), folded, and packed away according to size.








My doctor, Tim West, would not agree to do anything to induce labor until I was at least one week overdue. I went in for a check up on Friday, November 2(one full week past my due date), and we scheduled an induction for Monday, November 5. I went home feeling frustrated. That night I started having contractions in the middle of the night, around 3 a.m. They were light and not painful, but I started timing them. They were sporadic, about 15 minutes apart. I didn't sleep most of the night, but just laid in bed with my watch. I didn't wake up Brandon. When morning came, the contractions were about 10-12 minutes or so apart. I called the nurses at the hospital, and they told me not to come in, because early labor can last for days, especially as a first time mom. Brandon decided to go to work as planned. I got in the shower. I remember the contractions getting more intense and uncomfortable and just standing in the shower, crying, because I was home alone and I had no one to commiserate with me. I got dressed, did my hair, and laid down on the couch. I remember watching Food Network until about 11 am. At this point, the contractions had moved to my back and were very intense, extremely uncomfortable and quite painful. Each time one came, I practiced my breathing and sat on an exercise ball. They were probably 7 minutes or so apart. I was still thinking I was in early labor because of what the nurses told me.


At this point my mom called, totally unaware of what was going on. She asked, "How are you today?" I told her through tears, "I'm not doing very well! My back hurts really, really bad every seven minutes." She said, "Nikole! You are in serious labor! Where is Brandon? Call him right now and tell him to come home and take you to the hospital!"


I did. He came home and we got ready to go. In our childbirth classes, they told us to make sure we ate before we went to the hospital. I think they meant that I should eat, since labor is hard work and you need food energy to get through it. For some reason, Brandon thought this meant HE needed to eat. He insisted that we stop at Dairy Queen on our way to the hospital. We went through the drive through, with me still having back contractions and having to breath deeply through each one. It makes me laugh now to think of me in the passenger seat, huffing and puffing, and him talking to the speaker: "Yes, I'll have a chicken basket, a large Blizzard...." I think it was his way of coping. I refused to order anything for fear of later having to dispose of it on the delivery table. I did eat two of his chicken strips.


We got to St. Luke's hospital in Downtown Boise and had to drive around for a long time before we found a parking spot. It took quite a while to walk in because my contractions were so intense that I had to stop and rest each time one occurred. Luckily, they were no longer in my back, but had moved around front. Back labor is awful. I don't recommend it. We got to the admission desk and filled out all the paperwork and they checked to see if I was dilated enough to get admitted. I wasn't. I was only a 3 or so and they wanted me to be a 5. Brandon and I had to walk around the halls for about an hour and half, pausing to breathe every time a contraction hit. The contractions were intense but manageable if I leaned on Brandon and practiced my breathing exercises. By the time we went back to be checked again, I was about a 5 and they admitted me and put me in a delivery room.



Once we got there, I told the nurse I wanted an epidural. She tried to convince me that I should try the bath first. All the rooms there are equipped with big bathtubs so you can labor in the tub, which is supposed to take the edge off. I agreed to try it. It was awful. I remember telling Brandon that I couldn't do it anymore and that sitting in the bath was so uncomfortable. I perservered for about 45 minutes until I reached my breaking point. I told the nurse again that I wanted an epidural. She then told me that before I could have one, I needed to have some bloodwork done. I was thinking, "WHY THE HECK DIDN'T YOU DO THIS BEFORE I GOT IN THE TUB?" I wanted to kill her. She drew the blood and checked me, and I was dilated to a 7. I was terrified that now I was too far along to have any pain meds. The time from then until the anesthesiologist showed up was pure torture. Brandon and I tried to do the breathing exercises, but the contractions were so bad at this point that I couldn't focus. I remember screaming at the nurse "I WANT MY EPIDURAL NOW!" I had lost all decency or manners. The blessed, blessed epidural was finally given. Brandon was too quesy and had to go sit in the corner while it was administered. I had to squeeze and hold onto the nurse, and I admit that I squeezed her shoulders really hard because I was so ticked off at her. Finally, relief came. I was about an 8 when it kicked in.



Dr. West wasn't on call because it was a weekend, so one of the other doctors in his practice was on duty, Dr. Werdell. He came in and broke my water before he even introduced himself to me. He had horrible bedside manner and reminded me of a drill sergeant. I did not like him. I fell asleep for an hour or so while we waited for me to be fully dilated. Finally, at about 8:30 p.m. (we got to the hospital at 1:00) I was fully dilated and ready to push.


I started pushing and ended up having to push for about 3.5 hours. Addyson's heart rate kept dropping and rising, and Dr. Werdell was concerned that she wasn't getting enough oxygen. They gave me an oxygen mask to wear the whole time I was pushing. Several times Dr. Werdell almost wheeled me down the hall to have a C-Section. Her heart rate would fluctuate and the pushing didn't seem to be helping any progress be achieved. He thought she was just too big. Each time he would start to tell the nurse to move me down the hall, Addyson's heart rate would stabilize and he would allow me to continue pushing. This went on and on and on. Brandon was a nervous wreck the whole time. Strangely, I wasn't worried. I let Brandon do all the worrying and conversing with the doctor and nurses. At last, Addyson Jane finally decided to enter the world the old fashioned way. She was born at 11:53 p.m. on November 3, 2007. She weighed in at 8 lbs. 5 oz., was 20 inches long, and was perfectly healthy.






Of course, it was love at first sight. Life changed instantly. I adore my little girl.