Hello, Simon

As I write this, Simon is currently sleeping soundly between Seve and me in our big warm bed as we both type away at our laptops. Every time I look at him I gush over with love and tenderness and I-just-can’t-believe-this-ness. And the sudden inspiration to have a “Simon Says” tag for future posts of the adorable things he’ll say when he learns to talk and thinks he’s the first person to ever discover Nirvana.

First and foremost, I want to let you all know how incredibly thankful I am for all the kind words and congratulations on our little Simon - I’ve been trying to return as many texts/calls/tweets/FB messages as I can; your love has not gone unappreciated on our end! We’re just terribly busy with our new little man.

The rest of this post is Simon’s birth story. It’s very long, so if you’re interested in reading, open up your afternoon, cozy up with some cider, and keep reading after the jump.

Simon’s birth was a far easier experience than I had ever expected. I had previously read an article about a woman rolling her eyes at her expectations of birth: about how she thought it would be a calm and stoic affair with her hair in a top knot, her cheeks rosy, and her forehead lined with a slight sheen of sweat as she bravely pushed her child into the world. Instead she found herself hanging half naked out of her gown while grunting miserably on a birthing bar for hours, only to later be rushed in for a c-section. I laughed along with the article thinking the latter would also be me.

Though Simon arrived only a mere day after my due date, I was ridiculously impatient for him to get here. It hardly occurred to me that he was due on General Conference weekend until the night before Saturday when Seve had to remind me we could wear pajamas to “church” the next day. The weekend passed with me bouncing on an exercise ball in front of the TV during every session in an attempt to induce myself. Two weeks prior, my doctor had told me I was already dilated to 2 cm and that the big moment would probably come sooner than expected, so I was highly disappointed when the stroke of midnight of my due date arrived with no baby in sight.

Monday morning at about 4 AM I woke to some minor pain in my lower back. Small cramps that, though not terrible, were making it impossible to sleep. My first thought was that I needed to poo, haha. I got up several times to either use the bathroom or just walk around, until a final attempt to crawl back into bed had me unable to even hop into the covers as I hunched over the bed in pain. Seve woke and asked if I was all right, that “is it time?” anticipation in his voice. I told him that I thought I was having contractions, and if they persisted we should probably go to the hospital. As the morning progressed, the cramps become more intense, coming 4 minutes apart and lasting 30 seconds to a minute each. They were definitely contractions, and though they were painful, I distinctly remember thinking “okay, is this really all it is? This isn’t awful, I can handle it.” For some reason I always pictured contractions to be the scream-inducing terror often portrayed by Hollywood.

About half an hour before 7 AM Seve and I decided that yes, this was it, and we should go to the hospital, which fortunately for us is only a block away from our apartment. Seve called into work to let them know the big moment had finally arrived and he wouldn’t be coming in, though I was paranoid I would be told my labor was false or too early or whatever and they’d send us home. We quickly got dressed (me in between contractions), grabbed the hospital bag and made our way over with me having one brief and intense contraction in the hospital parking lot before we made our way up to Maternity.

Once there, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I said something to the effect of “Oh hai, I think I’m in labor?” Seve gave them my contraction stats and we were put into a room no-questions-asked. I even voiced my “er I hope this isn’t false labor  . . .” concern to which the nurse replied with a snarky “well, we’re giving you a room, so you’re good.” I decided I liked her.

After being checked to find out that I was at 6 ½ cm, I was given an IV and asked what I wanted to do about the pain. It’s here that I’d like to note that I had originally considered a natural childbirth, for both the “right” reasons (the badge of honor into womanhood, a deeper connection with my child, etc.) and the “wrong” ones (the birthing center I had found offered monogrammed bathrobes, fancy tubs, and king size beds to give birth in). In the end, though, the midwife I met with said I wasn’t an “ideal” candidate for natural birth because of how easy I hyperventilate, though if I was dedicated to going au naturel we could certainly try. My hyperventilation is pretty painful and embarrassing; it's not a little shortness of breath or numbness – my entire body locks up and I can’t move my muscles at all. Clenched fists, knees pulled up to my chest, face scrunched up . . . even my tongue locks up as though it’s swollen so I can’t talk. In fact, when we arrived at the hospital I was already hyperventilating despite my best efforts.

Since I had to weigh my desire for a “Jules” robe and the chance to labor in a warm tub while eating homemade bread against the possibility of locking up and being unable to move during labor, I decided on a hospital birth. At first I was really disappointed in myself for making this decision, but now that all is said and done, I couldn’t be happier with the choice I made.

When my nurse saw my face going numb, I was quickly offered oxygen and asked if I’d like an epidural since I was already so dilated, to which I said yes. This decision is what gave me the easiest childbirth I’ve ever heard of, and am happy to call my own.

Within half an hour of arrival at the hospital I had the epidural in, and watched in wonder as the monitors registered what my nurse called “through the roof” contractions coming hard and fast at less than a minute apart while I didn’t feel a thing. I was given no medicine to increase my contractions; it was obviously not needed and I wouldn’t have wanted it anyway. Within a few hours my water was broken, I was at 9 ½ cm, and told that if I wanted to I could start some initial pushing.

I had worried that a hospital birth would put a bad flavor in my mouth what with all the nurses, doctors, florescent lighting and whatnot, but my experience wasn’t like that at all. Our room was dimly lit, spacious, and very cozy and my snarky nurse was my kind and constant companion the whole time right along with my husband. In fact, they were the only people present at Simon’s birth along with our doctor.

I was also worried that I would be too “drugged up” to appreciate the birthing experience, but I’m happy to say I was alert the entire time even though my lower half was practically numb. I had to be told when I was having a contraction so I would know when to push, and since I couldn’t feel my legs Seve had to hold one while the nurse held the other, which made the experience more intimate and endearing rather than strange or awkward.  With every contraction I was told to take a huge breath and push as hard as I could for 10 seconds; we did this 3 times with every contraction and me resting in between. Simon was coming incredibly fast and the nurse was worried she’d have to deliver him before my doctor was able to show. She saw his head and happily announced that it was full of dark hair, which made me all the more eager to meet him. Soon enough my doctor arrived (having just delivered another woman’s baby) and the epidural continued to allow me to push with ease; in fact, it only took an hour of pushing for me to meet my son, including the pushing I did before my doctor’s arrival.

Simon Guy Isaacs was born October 3, 2011 at 1:34 PM. He weighed 7 lbs 5 oz and was 20 ½ inches long. I felt absolutely no pain during the process and couldn’t believe how quickly he came— about 9 hours from the first contraction. The strangest feeling I had during the entire ordeal was when he left my womb – I felt the distinct woosh of his exit and how incredibly odd it was to see/feel my tummy flatten out in mere seconds after being my beloved bulge of many moons.  Also, it was very squishy and I felt very queasy touching it later. The only real pain I felt during my whole birth experience was when the nurse pushed on my stomach after birth – that felt awful. I was given an abdominal binder to ease the “loose” feeling of my belly when I was able to stand later on my way to the bathroom. I recommend an abdominal binder to every woman after birth; I think it’s what helped me get my flat stomach back so quickly, and it also just felt so cozy and secure whereas without it I felt like my guts were about to fall out.

Simon was immediately placed on my chest after he was born, and I stared in wonder at my son, my son, as they dried and cleaned him up while he was on top of me. He didn’t cry right away, in fact, he didn’t cry at all. Instead he was alert and looking around with huge eyes while making these “coo”-ey “eh”-ey sounds, and fussed mildly when they eventually took him to a separate table in the room to check his vitals. It actually really worried me at first that he wasn’t crying, but I was assured that he was perfectly all right, and he was soon returned back to me for his first breast feeding, which I completely fumbled through because I could hardly believe that I had finally become a mother.

The only negative thing about my birth with Simon was that I was so confident in my pushing because of my gloriously pain-free epidural that I tore quite badly. My doctor gave me a slight episiotomy to redirect and ease the tear, but it was nonetheless a third degree tear (fourth degree is the one that goes all the way down to your bum) that left me incredibly sore and dreading every time-to-pee moment. But I consider the tear worth it for the birth I was able to have, and at a week after Simon’s birth, I was already able to walk around and function fine, though sitting is still no picnic.

By the way, the photos I featured in the previous post were courtesy of Bella Baby Photography, who work with hospitals going from room to room taking professional photos of all newborns, then giving the new parents a unique URL for their specific photos where they can be purchased later if desired. Had Seve and I been in Rexburg for Simon’s birth, I would have asked one of our photo-savvy friends if they would have been willing to get pictures of Simon on his first day of life. I was really bummed that we didn’t know anyone in Boise to do the honors, and I wasn’t about to hire anyone, so I was more than happy when BBP showed up to our room for the free photo session.

Though now that I have him home, I love our photo sessions more.