Aaron Ty Kiefer

AARON TY KIEFER

Born February 28, 2013

6 lbs 13 oz, 19 in

 

 

By now, we all know it was a crazy story. But for full details, let's back up a bit to earlier this week . . (or skip to where it say "birth story" to get straight to it).

 

Beginning of the week, 39 weeks pregnant and counting down

 



 

 

Monday: Routine check-up. 1 cm dilated, 50% effaced. No change from previous week. Mentioned major decrease in fetal movement this past week when they asked about it. Agreed to get non-stress-test and ultra sound done that day. Baby looked and sounded great! I wasn't super worried but definitely brought me peace of mind to know the fluid was just fine (~11 in measurement) and no cord tangles.

 

Tuesday: Woke up with bleeding. Surprised and confused about what to do (wasn't gushing blood or anything but like a light period) Went into triage at the hospital for examination. Baby monitored fine. No change in dilation. Went home an hour later.

I started cramping that day off and on and in the evening, contractions started coming 7-8 minutes apart. Dan was pretty convinced we were going in that night. "No, we can't", I said. "My mom gets here tomorrow. I'm going to pretend this isn't happening and go to sleep." I took tylenol and laid in bed and the contractions slowed down and subsided.

BIRTH STORY:

Wednesday: My mom made it from Thailand around 12:30pm! I gave myself mental permission to go into labor anytime now. I did tell my poor jet-lagged mother to go to bed early just in case. I cramped all day long and had strong contractions sporadically throughout the day. Really felt uncomfortable. In the evening, my contractions ranged from 7-8 minutes apart, to 4-5 minutes. I was pretty sure we were going in that night, but again, in bed the contractions slowed down to 10+ minutes apart and then stopped all together. Dan and I fell asleep, but I woke up throughout the night here and there with lots of cramping and spread out contractions, but with no pattern to them.

At some point (maybe 1 am?) I took some unisom, hoping to get some sleep with anticipation that labor would truly start later that day.
4 am: I woke up to pee and saw a little bit of blood, like the last two days. Since I was told it wasn't a big deal unless it was a gush of bright blood, I got back into bed. I started to shake a bit with chills. I thought to myself that maybe I was developing an infection and would have to go get checked out first thing in the morning. (I know all of these signs seem so obvious NOW but in the middle of the night when you're in and out of sleep and disoriented, with only yourself to talk you through self-doubt, it didn't add up enough)
5 am: I timed contractions again and they were 10 min apart for three counts, but then I got one 8 minutes apart. A very clear thought came to my mind, "You need to get out of bed, and go to the hospital."

That was at 5:45. Dan woke up to the sound of me groaning a little bit as I leaned over the side of the bed, having finally gotten out of bed again. "Baby," he said, "What's wrong? Talk to me." I didn't say much other than to release a small moan as I worked through a contraction. We both knew it was time to go. Dan called his mom while I took a few minutes to change, brush my teeth and grab a few last-minute items for the hospital. I felt better  moving around. But suddenly, my contractions were picking up in pace, moving to about 6-8 minutes apart, coupled with a new sense of urgency to get to the hospital.

Sandra only lives about 12 minutes away but it was thirty minutes before she arrived because her car wouldn't start. I didn't want to leave Aiyana home alone, even with the door locked, but I caved on that decision by 6:15 when the contractions moved to 4-5 minutes apart with more lower pressure and urges to push. We drove away, leaving a key for Sandra, although we passed her driving as we left the neighborhood.

Dan drove smoothly, but told me later he was speeding about 85 mph on the freeway. Panic started to grow inside me as I felt the familiarity of how strong and urgent these contractions were becoming. We were running out of time!

Ten minutes later, Dan pulled up to the hospital entrance. I could barely stand as another contraction threatened to have the baby right there in the parking lot. I held onto Dan and cried out, trembling and beyond panicked. My mom ran inside the hospital to get me a wheelchair while an employee helped Dan support me through the doors. I was wheeled away and up to the 2nd floor, entering the triage room where I'd been assessed two days before.

It had to be obvious that I was in the latter stages of labor, though none of the nursing staff seemed to understand just how close I was to delivery. I could barely talk so I left Dan to explain to them that "her labors go quickly" (which he said they appeared to listen skeptically, or at least with less urgency than was required). A male nurse off-handedly directed me to change in the bathroom while all I wanted to do was crawl onto the bed and deliver this baby! But I followed orders and even bothered peeing in a cup (I don't know what I was thinking!), then stripped my lower half of clothing. One of the strongest contractions yet hit me and I cried out, groaning in desperate panic once again. Dan ran to my side while I clung to him. My cries finally alerted the nursing staff to just how close I was. Dan and one nurse dragged me to the bed and I collapsed into it, laying on my side. They checked my cervix, announcing I was fully dilated and effaced with my bag of water bulging. I had just a couple minutes before the next contraction hit.

I laugh now, but even in those moments I couldn't help but think of my birth plan and how I was supposed to give that to them. I even managed to say to Dan, "My music. Can you turn on my music?" Dan simply responded, "You can do this without music. Just listen to me." Like the time I birthed Ty without an epidural, he didn't have the heart to tell me there was no time for any of that.

Of course, in reality I knew that, but for some reason I couldn't help but ask and try and put at least one of my hypnobirth goals into action! I also realized they'd shut my mom out of the room. I made sure to ask twice that they let her in. "She came all the way from Thailand," I pleaded and that seemed to work. Dan handed her the camera and she did her thing!

 I was doing my best to breathe through the contractions, and heard the nurses commending me, but I was no where near prepared mentally for any of the imagery Dan was trying to speak to me about. It was too late for that. I'd only been on the bed for a couple minutes when another contraction racked my body. I knew I only had minutes before this baby was coming. Another violent contraction released itself, and my water burst out of me like a dam. It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of water on me!

With the gush of water, I felt the baby coming out, followed by a nurse say, "she's crowning!"

I remembered crowning with Ty and how those nurses had told me not to push (realizing later it was only because the doctor wasn't there yet). This time, no one told me not to push. No one was really instructing me to do or not do anything. I suppose I was the one directing the show! I knew my midwife wasn't going to make it, and in that moment, I decided to take control. I was not going to force myself to keep this baby inside me any longer.

Dan, as he has done during past labors, called my attention and instructed me to look him in the eyes. He told me everything would be ok, and that he wouldn't let anything happen to me. That moment changed everything as I fully trusted his words. I rolled over from my left side onto my back, resolutely knowing I was going to push this baby out. Not that I could stop Aaron from coming right then anyway. I could feel the stretching and burning, but I was in control. I stared silently into Dan's eyes, not even blinking -- just listening to words of encouragement that instilled confidence and calmness into me. I'd done this before and knew what I was doing. It was less than a minute from when my water broke, but in that minute, everything became a little more still, a little more manageable.

Dan didn't even know the baby was coming out because he never broke eye contact with me and I didn't say a word. Just believed that I could do this. I didn't exactly "push". It seemed more like I slowly released the baby, at least until Aaron's head emerged. Then the rest of him just sort of plopped out as mine tend to do!

"He's out," I breathed allowed, and Dan finally looked back in surprise to see baby Aaron on the bed, a nurse having guided him out, and we heard his loud cry! The physical and emotional relief was instantaneous, and we smiled and laughed happy sighs with teary eyes. They put Aaron on my chest, which at this point only had a sports bra on because I'd managed to tear off my shirt in between one of my heated contractions.

I enjoyed Aaron with me for a few minutes, and then he was taken to be wiped down. Chaos continued to ensue as Dan and I were bombarded with paperwork questions. The room was literally buzzing (irritatingly so!) with a cross-fire of questions I couldn't care less about. I just wanted to enjoy my son and process what had just happened in the 20 minutes or less of arriving at the hospital. (It's documented that I checked-in at 6:34 am and delivered at 6:49). Dan encouraged me to just let it go because they were just doing their jobs -- and we did drop a bomb on them this morning, right before shift change!

The nurses really worked well together and we appreciated how they just went with the flow of my labor, not really perturbed that we weren't following protocol. I'm so happy no one told me not to push! That is one of the worst feelings!

 My midwife arrived just minutes after the birth, bed-head and teeth unbrushed. "Sorry!" I said and she just shrugged and said, "Well, you're both here and well."

 

Angela DeTie is my midwife in blue with just a few of the many nurses involved during the event.

My mom, so thrilled to have made it to Aaron's birth just in time! I was so glad they let her into the room. How sad would that have been if she made it all the way from Thailand, only to be shut out moments before birth!

 

 

So it wasn't the birth experience I'd been gearing up for. I'm a little sad I couldn't get set up and all prepared to feel the peace and calm that could have been created (at least before the storm that is always the tale-end of labor!) But at the same time, I guess people are calling me lucky that I basically slept in and out of labor from my bed! It still hadn't been easy, and I remember being so confused why those contractions hurt pretty bad but weren't close together, which to me, signified active labor. So I learned something new this time, that text-book answers are not as important as following instinct! That, and don't take sleeping pills which inhibited my judgement. = )

 

All in all, I have a healthy little boy in our lives again, and that's all that truly matters. We are blessed and grateful!