Tyler Peter Boldt
Born at 9:20am
8 lbs 15oz
20.5 in
Blonde hair
Apgar score of 7 at 1 min and 9 at 5 min
Healthy, beautiful, and learning how to nurse
Good new right? That's what we hope for the moment a positive pregnancy test is celebrated, throughout the 9 months of pregnancy, when labor begins and when a little squishy love is pushed out into the world.
In my seven years of being a mommy I have been blessed with three healthy babies, all welcomed in their own way. Their birth stories are beautiful, unique, and held close to my heart. Throughout them all, and all of the other births of those close to me... Never once did I question the health of the mother. I always ask how they are doing and having children of my own I expect new mommies to be tired, sore, overwhelmed and in love. Never do I expect anything else.
I think that is why Jen's birth has left me without the normal feelings of exhilaration but with those of fear, lingering questions and raw emotion.
From my perspective, this is the story of Tyler's short journey and Jen's longer one. Forgive me for the length, I'm feeling the need to write about all that has happened in the last 48 hours.
8 months ago Jen asked if I would attend her birth. I was teary telling her i'd love nothing more and started counting down the days. She wasn't sure if she wanted natural or medicated and I tried to keep my natural birth philosophies at bay while she made a decision that was right for she, Ben and baby.
Jen read a lot of books, asked a lot of people about their experiences and decided that she wanted to give natural a try but wasn't ruling anything out. She had a great plan that her doctor supported and more importantly a great attitude. Being pregnant wasn't her favorite thing, although she was a beauty with a full, round belly and glowing skin, she kept positive and focused on the prize that comes at the end.
Tyler's due date came and went and Jen's discomfort, along with both my and her doctors upcoming departures from Milwaukee, prompted her to set a date for induction. We both packed labor bags full of all the goodies we could fathom we'd need. There were snacks, massage tools, games, a journal, cameras, and changes of clothes. Jen and Ben drove by at 6:45am on Tuesday, January 31st. I followed them to the hospital all the while visions of laboring my own children along with soft, warm newborns filled my head. I was giddy like child on Christmas morning with two of my favorite things in the near future.
The induction started with cytotec to help her cervix soften. We watched minor contractions on the monitor while we played Skip-Bo, Cribbage and Gin-Rummy. We laughed, fed Jen a few things to tide her over and just enjoyed the excuse to spend time together. I haven't mentioned Ben. Jen's Ben was there as well of course. He supported her any way he could by getting her things she needed, and as time progressed of course helping with pain management and emotional support. I haven't spent a lot of time with Ben and feel so lucky I had that time with him. He's a great guy and really loves Jen.
Mid-day the doc came in and decided he was going to break her bag of waters. I wasn't there at the time. I had run home to relieve my mom for a few hours and spend a tiny bit of time with my kids. When I returned she was having some minor contractions so we started a game of Skip-Bo. About 10 min into the game Jen began having to pay attention to her contractions. They came on fast and strong. Ben was tracking them on an iPhone app and I was encouraging her to breathe through them. We tried different positions and she just couldn't find a rhythm. They were lasting about a minute and were 3-4 minutes apart. The intensity was too much and she asked for an epidural. I reminded her there is no wrong way to have a baby.
The epidural kicked in and provided her some much needed relief. She was still feeling the contractions but it was more pressure than pain. We talked, laughed, welcomed Jen's mom and kept busy until our eyelids were slowly sinking. Ben took the couch after some prodding that it was important he get a little shut-eye and Jen's mom and I curled up with pillows on the floor. I knew I needed to rest, it was now middle of the night, a time of day I try not to frequent unless I am nursing. It was hard to turn my mind and ears off knowing that things could change at any moment and by this time I was certainly not going to miss anything!
At some point in the night the doctor wanted to see Jen's contractions increase so they administered pitocin. Over the course of a few hours she went from 4cm all the way to 8. We slept on and off for a short while and when morning arrived so did some pretty intense contractions. They were remedied by counter pressure on her hips which Ben and I took turns providing for her. It's fascinating how in labor time literally stands still. By this time we had been at the hospital for nearly 24 hours and although it certainly felt like we had been there for a while, never once was I staring at the clock wondering how we'd make in any longer.
I'm not sure exactly when it was that the doctor said it was time to start pushing but I believe it was around 8am. Jen wasn't sure she would be able to feel her pushes and was worried about making them effective. Her doctor, a man who walks into a room and brings calmness and confidence, warmth and laughter, was firm and directive with her. Slowly, Tyler's head peeked out, grey and squishy. Each push inched him a little farther down the birth canal and each rest period a little farther away. He continued this back and forth motion with Jen's pushing but each contraction left him a wee bit closer to the world and our longing eyes.
Pushing is hard work. I will without hesitation say its the most grueling thing I've ever done and probably ever will do. I don't think it's the most painful, I'll leave that for the contractions, but definitely requires a woman's physical strength along with her mental tenacity. Jen was a rock star. She listened to her doctor, completed three tremendous pushes with each contraction and at 9:20am Tyler slipped into the room covered in fluid, a little bit of blonde hair, and ready to meet his mommy and daddy. It was exhilarating. It was magical. It was such a gift to watch. If pregnancy and childbirth don't help you to believe in the power of God and/or miracles I don't know what can. I feel so fortunate to have been able to see the process from the outside rather than just the birthing mother. I've loved every minute of experiencing it myself but the intensity doesn't allow you to watch each step unfold and appreciate the endurance and stamina it requires. With tears in my eyes, I said, "Jen, you did it!" I remember kissing her forehead and moving over Ben to congratulate he and Jen's mom as well.
I tried to be present and involved. I wanted to do what I could to help but also step out of the way when it was a moment to be enjoyed by Jen and Ben.
At this point, i was fully expecting to help her learn to nurse, commiserate about having to push the placenta out (always seems like a cheap shot after having pushed out a new life), and then help her transfer up to a post-partum room. This however is when things started to change.
I saw the nurses and doctors start to do some whispering, I noticed the blood that seemed to be pouring out of Jen, and felt a bit of frantic energy in the air. I slowly backed myself into a corner as others entered the room. It's all a bit hazy but I remember learning that the amount of blood she was losing wasn't normal so someone from the lab joined the group with extra blood. A new anesthesiologist joined the room and I realized that they were having a hard time delivering the placenta. It wasn't detaching and they weren't sure why. Jen's face began to grey, her blood pressure started to drop and Barb, Jen's mom, and I were asked to step out into the lobby. The room was full and they needed to try to remove the placenta manually. Best case scenario they could do so without further intervention, worst case scenario she would need a hysterectomy.
We stepped out of the room with nothing but our phones. We stoically walked the long hall way to the seating area. The entire time I felt fear creeping up my body but I looked at Jen's mom and realized that I needed to be strong. Her mom looked at me from the chair next to mine with tears in her eyes. I have known Jen and her family for a long time and I've never seen her mom emotional. It took every ounce of strength in me not to break down and be the one needing reassurance but instead I told Barb that Jen was in great hands, she was a strong, healthy girl and that I was sure everything was okay. Her mom was distressed, scared of watching her daughter in pain and sitting with the terrible discomfort of not knowing what was happening. She nervously talked with me about her dogs, the births of her children and watching her dogs have puppies. I think talking kept her mind from wandering.
Before too long she wanted to go and check on Jen so we stood up and trudged back to the nurses station. Unfortunately they had to take Jen into the Operating Room. That's all we knew and it wasn't enough to provide the comfort my head and heart were looking for. I began to wonder if she was seriously going to be okay. Could someone lose too much blood? Could her blood pressure drop too low? What if they couldn't get the placenta out? A wandering mind can do horrible things.
The nurse took us to the nursery to visit Ben who was snuggling Tyler, the closest he could get to helping Jen. Ben was a natural. Tyler was sleeping soundly and had just recently been cup fed due to low blood sugar and the obvious trouble that Jen couldn't breast feed at the moment. We gazed at this new little bundle who now was considered his own entity while only hours before he was part of his mommy.
We left Tyler with the nurse to get his bath and to return to the room where the doctor would come give us an update. After settling in, welcoming our good friend Katie, packing up our bags and talking about everything that had happened, her doctor scuffed into the room. He looked at Ben with a puzzled look on his face. I wasn't able to read the expression and thus had no premonition for the news to come.
He started by telling us she was stable and in recovery. Sigh. The worst case scenario didn't happen fortunately and she was going to be okay although they hadn't been able to stop the bleeding yet as desired. He was hoping that was going to happen when her body began naturally contracting. If not, she needed another surgery. I heard Ben thanking him for all that he had done and her doc scuffed back out of the room.
I think I was somewhat in shock. Jen was a dear, dear friend from long ago and I was having a hard time processing all that had gone on. Wasn't I supposed to be feeling happy? What happened to the euphoric feeling that comes from a birth? Suddenly we all realized we wanted to get Tyler in the room. They had been telling us he had to stay in the nursery until Jen came down. He was as close as we could get to her and what baby doesn't deserve to be snuggled and admired by people who love him just after being born? Linda, Jen's nurse, was able to make that happen. In rolled Tyler, pushed by his proud Daddy, and out went some of the sadness, fear, and wandering thoughts. Or focus went to this sweet smelling, soft little burrito. He stole the show as he should have and was loved on, snuggled up, peeked at and not put back down.
The clock continued to tick. Jen's arrival time came and went and again, worries crept into my head. Why wasn't she returning? What was taking so long? Couldn't someone go be with her? I don't like being alone and don't like others being alone so this was really hurting my heart. The phone came alive with a jingle and Ben picked it up. It was the nurse from recovery and Jen wanted to talk to Ben. She was coming out of anesthesia and her voice sounded heavy and slow. No matter how rough she sounded, hearing her talk to Ben was the reassurance I needed. It wasn't long before Jen was rolled into the room. Tears filled my eyes with relief, love, and disbelief that we had been through all that we had in the last 36 hours. Her first words, "I'm so glad it was me and not Tyler." A mothers pure love had already filled her body and the unselfish acts had begun. Jen, someone I had known since we were young, was now a mommy.
I visited for a bit and packed up my things. I had been gone from my children for a while and was leaving the next morning so guilt was setting in. I lingered longer, not wanting to leave. Having your first baby is hard enough when all goes well, but harder still when the mama has been run over by a Mack truck. I wanted to stay and help, be extra sure Jen was going to be okay. After a loving glance at Tyler and hugs all around Katie and I walked down the long hallways to the parking lot. I could feel emotion flooding my body and did what I could to hold it together. I hugged Katie, and drove off letting all emotion flow. I sobbed.
I cried the whole way home. It was for a myriad of reasons. The exhaustion of no sleep, the fear lingering still not knowing if Jen needed one additional surgery to stop the bleeding, the joy of seeing Tyler being brought into the world and the fact that he was okay, the fears that fortunately didn't come true and just the overwhelming emotion that comes when you encounter the unexpected.
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I wrote this shortly after Tyler was born. It's been a little over a week now and Tyler, Jen and Ben are at home and doing very well. He's a beautiful little boy and Jen is as natural with him as Ben was. The birth is over and yet they have so much to look forward to. Birthing children is magical and not to be diminished, but they now have the rest of his life to enjoy him and help him grow into a wonderful toddler, boy, and then a young man. What a fun journey!
Thank you Jen and Ben for allowing me to be part of your special day. I will forever cherish it in my heart and mind.
