On Sunday, June 21st, my due date came and went without any fanfare. I was starting to get anxious and frustrated. I knew that he was coming eventually, but I was SO done being pregnant. I made my post-date doctor's appointment for that Wednesday. Scott took a half-day and we went to my appointment together. We were both hoping for some good news that I was progressing nicely, or that she would just tell us to head to the hospital, because labor was going to start any time (wishful thinking, I know). Our hopes were dashed when the doctor said I was only dilated 2cm. We did an ultrasound and her response was "whoa, that's a big baby! I'm measuring long legs and almost 9 lbs!" Of course, that sent me into a slight panic. I was not looking forward to birthing a giant child; couldn't I just go into labor right now? But we were just stuck in the waiting game. We went ahead and scheduled an induction for that following Monday. I would be 41 weeks and 1 day. I was SO ready to just fast-forward to Monday! After the appointment, we walked to the hospital for a non-stress test, which our baby passed with flying colors. The nurse was so nice and Scott was able to go ahead and pre-register us. This ended up being a great trip, since we were able to finally see the hospital and the Labor and Delivery Unit. I was so excited. The place was wonderful. There was even live music in the front lobby!
Fast forward to the next morning. After a bad night of sleep and multiple trips to the bathroom (nothing really out of the norm), at 6:45 a.m., I began having what felt like my normal Braxton-Hicks contractions... except that they were coming every 5 to 7 minutes and were becoming a little uncomfortable, so I just stayed up and had my breakfast. Instead of worrying Scott for no reason, I let him wake up at his usual time, an hour later. By the time he finished getting ready, my contractions were definitely consistent and getting stronger. He decided to work from home for a while as we tracked them, just in case. By 9:00 a.m., I was having to breathe my way through the contractions and a few choice words were slipping out from time to time. We finally called the doctor to tell her my symptoms. We weren't on hold for 30 seconds before they told us to pack up and head to the hospital. At 10:15 a.m., we loaded our bags and car seat into the back of an Uber car and made our way to the hospital. I wasn't letting myself get too excited, just in case they sent us home.
We went straight to the L&D unit. Our doctor had obviously called ahead, because when we opened the doors to the unit, a nurse was standing there and asked if I was Lauren. And THAT is why we chose to give birth in New Jersey! They already knew my name, and it felt like I was the only one in the unit going into labor and that I was their #1 focus. I wasn't just a number to whisk in and out as fast as possible. They hooked me up to the machines and checked my dilation. I was still only 2cm, but with my contractions coming as strong and fast as they were, they decided to keep me. At that point, when I was officially admitted, we made THE CALLS. This was so emotional for us. Everyone had been on pins and needles for weeks waiting for this moment. Of course, everyone was working, so this was such a convenient time. We called mom first and waited what seemed like forever as one of her co-workers tracked her down. As Scott told her it was time, I felt the tears welling up in me. It was finally hitting me that this was real. We called dad but he didn't answer, so I sent him a text telling him to call me with this photo attached. One of the last smiles I made during labor...not too much later those contractions got SERIOUS.
Within the hour, my entire family had left their jobs early and were packing their bags, picking up Crispie Creme Donuts (my one request), and by early afternoon, they were all headed to NY to meet the newest member of the family!
We quickly got settled in, we met our L&D nurse, Gina. She was such a great nurse. There wasn't much for her to do, since they were just letting nature do its thing, but she would pop in from time to time and check on us and chat. I was fine with letting things progress on their own. By the time we arrived at the hospital, I had already been laboring for 4 hours. I knew that I would get an epidural, but I wanted to wait as long as possible, especially since I wasn't dilated very much. I planned to wait until the pain was too intense. Six hours after arriving at the hospital, my contractions were consistently 2-3 minutes apart and were out-of-this-world painful. The peaks were spiking off the charts on the monitor and when they would come I couldn't even see straight. I wasn't allowed to eat, so I was thankful I had a bowl of cereal and an apple that morning, but all I could think about was food. I was SO hungry, and so frustrated that I wasn't allowed to have lunch before the contractions got too bad. I was allowed Jell-O and popsicles, and soon I was thankful that I didn't eat a real meal. Once the contractions got really intense, there went my Jell-O.
My contractions. Notice that in between the peaks, I never stop contracting. If my body was in resting mode, the valleys would be at the very bottom of the graph.
Our Labor room was great. It had a couch with a bed in it and a sleeper recliner. That furniture was a Godsend.
By 9:30 p.m., the doctor stopped by and I was finally dilating.... very slowly. I was at 4cm. By 11:30 p.m., they decided to finally try to help move the process along, so they broke my water. There was a bit of meconium in it, but they weren't worried since his heart rate was still strong. So, we waited, and waited... and waited... and waited... I hadn't slept all day, so I was definitely getting tired. The family finally arrived at 2:00 a.m. We honestly thought they would miss the delivery, but oh were we wrong. They dropped mom off so she could be there for the delivery, and everyone else went to the hotel to get some shut eye. Thankfully, mom, Scott, and I, managed to sneak in a few hours of sleep.
At 8:00 a.m., I had only dilated 6 cm! I was starting to get very discouraged. I had been laboring for about 25 hours and was barely getting anywhere! They finally gave me Pitocin, to hurry up the process. But, for the next few hours I started feeling contractions in my back again that wouldn't go away no matter how much medicine they injected into me. By 11:00 a.m., we figured out why... my epidural catheter had come out! At this point, the pain of my contractions was almost back at full force. The anesthesiologist came in for the quick 15 minute procedure to reinsert the epidural line. At least, that's what it was supposed to be. As luck would have it, they had a difficult time resetting my catheter. Because of how long I had been there, I was starting to swell making it very difficult. FINALLY after several tries, we had success. I was in so much pain. During the procedure, they had me bend over and remain completely still. I had to breathe through my intense contractions, which definitely wasn't easy. While I burrowed my head into the nurse's shoulder, she held my hands and kept telling me she was sorry and to hang in there. (shout out to Carol, you were great!). After finally getting a successful positioning of the catheter, the anesthesiologist started the medicine drip and then I heard "Well, this never happens. I'm so sorry. Your catheter has malfunctioned, so we have to start all over." My heart sank. All I wanted to do was cry. It had been almost an hour at this point and the pain was excruciating. A new guy came in and tried to set the catheter in a different position and he had great success. Finally, I was back in the land of the living and was ready to meet my boy!
Bartholomew Bear waiting patiently to meet his best friend.
In that moment, it seemed like everything had stopped. C-Section? This wasn't in the plan AT ALL. I had even skipped those chapters in the books I had read. My mom never had a problem, I didn't think I would at all. But, I didn't protest. After 33 hours of labor, I knew it was time. The goal was to get him out. If that meant surgery, then that's what was going to happen. Of course, I just said Ok, and the doctor and nurse left the room to order the C. As soon as the door closed, I burst into tears. I tried to hold them back, but I couldn't. Scott held me and mom stood close by encouraging me that it was all going to be okay. I told them I would be fine, I just needed to let it all out while we had some privacy (I'm not a public crier, if I can help it). I quickly wiped my tears as they came in to prep us, but as soon as they left again, the tears overflowed. Within a few minutes I was being wheeled down to the OR. Scott was whisked away to change into his scrubs on and mom went to the waiting room. I was wheeled into the bright white room and laid there as the nurses and doctors swirled around me. They asked me questions, poked me a few times, gave me meds, put up the curtain between me and my belly, and before I knew it, the surgery had started. I was stoic for the first part, trembling just slightly and trying to keep my cool. They told me to tell them if I felt anything. After a few minutes I told them I felt a tiny pin prick in my stomach; it didn't hurt though. The anesthesiologist chuckled a bit and said they had done A LOT more than a simple pin prick. So, I guess the meds were working!
At that point, Scott showed up beside me and took my hand. He was already in tears. Of course, that just broke right through my tough facade. Tears started streaming down my face and didn't stop for the rest of the operation. Scott talked to me and supported me which made me cry more, I started to feel them pulling and pushing my stomach. It was so incredibly bizarre. I kept waiting for the pain to kick in. Thankfully, it never did. As I'm listening to Scott's encouraging words, all of the sudden this deafening cry pierces the OR. The moment I heard that cry it hit me like a ton of bricks. After 9 months of waiting, 9 months of loving this human, 9 months of prepping for this moment, he was here. That was my son. He was just on the other side of that curtain. I was so overwhelmed, I cried even more. I wanted so bad to see his face, to touch his skin, but I was stuck on the table, behind the curtain. The nurses called Scott over and he went over to meet our boy. He watched as they cleaned him off, weighed him and tested him. At that point, the doctor had already started to stitch me back up. I don't remember much from all the chatter but there was one main theme that everyone agreed on. THAT'S A BIG BABY! Wow! He's so big! He's 8lb 15oz. Almost a 9 lb boy! Of course, I couldn't see him, so I was imagining this gargantuan child. I thought I had given birth to the Hulk or something. His cries tapered off and they asked me if I wanted to meet my baby. Scott came along side me and they put this tiny little person on my chest so I could see him. As I looked into his eyes, I was so overwhelmed with feelings about this little stranger, this boy that I had carried and nourished for 9 months. He was finally here and I was meeting him for the first time. That was one of the most incredible moments of my life. I laid there and cried as I held him and looked into his barely open eyes. They took him away shortly after and put him in his little bassinet to be wheeled temporarily to the nursery to finish his tests. From where I was, I could see into the hall. There, right in my line of view was this little baby in his bassinet and my husband, his dad looking down at him. That was my son. There was Levi Owen DeHart. The boy that I had felt move and kick me for months, he was finally here and he was the most perfect thing I had ever laid eyes on. He was gorgeous.
They wheeled me into recovery where my mom came back to see us. After a few minutes they brought in Levi. While we were there, we had a little time with him, and mom and dad got to come back and meet him for the first time. It was such a beautiful moment. It was wonderful to see them meet their grandchild for the first time; it was written all over their faces that they loved him so much already.
After a crash course in breastfeeding from my labor nurse Carol (which went surprisingly well) they wheeled me into my new home for the next 4 days in the Mother-Baby unit. Once I was settled, Mom, Dad, Lydia, Liberty, and Brad all came back. Thankfully my room was large with a couch and plenty of seats for everyone. It was great having the family all there. They finally brought Levi in, and it filled my heart with joy to see everyone react to meeting him for the first time.
The next 4 days were a whirlwind, but I was so thankful to have the extra time in the hospital. Recovery was long and hard. I was still not allowed out of bed until the next morning. I had compression boots on my feet, a catheter and an IV still hooked up to me. Abdominal surgery is no joke! When I was finally able to move about later the next day, I decided it was better to just stay in bed. Just getting to the bathroom was an epic feat in itself. I was basically bed ridden up until the day we left. The bottom half of my body was incredibly swollen after all the fluids they pumped into me. Thankfully, I had Scott by my side the entire time. He took such good care of both me and Levi. I felt so bad, but he never complained once. I think my love for him grew 10 times during our stay, if that's even possible. I never knew I could love him even more than I already did. God has really blessed me. He took on all diaper duties, since I couldn't get out of bed, let alone stand for long periods of time. He would help and support me when breastfeeding was difficult and I was having trouble with positioning and latching. The days were blurs, with nurses coming and going every couple of hours, even in the night, but even though it was crazy at times, it was such a comfortable, quiet, and peaceful place to spend our first days as a family. All the nurses were wonderful. We even had nurses from the Labor & Delivery unit come and visit us to meet our boy. On the last day we were there, the first nurse we ever met, the one from my nonstress test, heard that I had given birth and made a special trip over to visit. We felt so loved and everyone oohed and awwed over Levi.
On Tuesday, 6 days after coming through those doors with a huge bump, we left the hospital with our Levi strapped snug in his car seat. After a very stressful ride back to NYC in an Uber car, our little family of three arrived safe and sound at our apartment. What followed was an incredible and insane week. I'm completely in love with my little family. Levi is incredible, gorgeous, perfect and I still can't believe he is ours. I'm finally on the mend and Scott continues to have such a servant's heart. I honestly couldn't do this without him. Thankfully he is still here for another week.
If you made it this far, thanks for reading our birth story. We are so incredibly thankful for everyone who prayed for us and supported us through everything. We are so overwhelmed by God's goodness. He is truly awesome. I pray every day that we can be a light to our son, that he will see Jesus though us. It's so easy to say 'I hope he's smart, I hope he's charming, maybe he'll be a lawyer like his daddy...' But in the end, all we care about is if he loves Jesus. That's the most important thing, nothing else matters as much as seeing this little boy be a child of the king.
"Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it" Proverbs 22:6
Levi's first moments
Meeting him for the first time while they stitch me up.
Mimi Jo meeting her grandson for the first time.
Papa meeting Levi
My little gnome burrito
From birth, he has never liked his arms swaddled
Aunt Liberty
Aunt Lydia and Uncle Brad
This is how I spent my days
My family bought us flowers, a new Jellycat and the cutest cards!
Getting ready to go home!
I couldn't stop laughing at this one
Little Levi finally home in his crib.
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