Harvey's Birth Story

On December 9, 2014 we welcomed Harvey Bryan Frandsen into this world.

Two days earlier, on Sunday night we watched the Christmas Devotional. Paul and I sat on the couch, drank hot chocolate, and enjoyed our Christmas lights. We love the holiday season. On Monday, I went to work at Talksoft (an hour commute there and back). I felt good, but tired. When I got home from work we ate some dinner and then watched a really corny Christmas movie called "All I Want for Christmas".

Pregnant, cocoa, and the 2014 Christmas Devotional

We were laying on the couch, but towards the end of the movie my neck started bothering me, so I sat on the floor because I thought how I was laying might be giving me a kink. After a few minutes sitting on the floor and rubbing my neck it got worse and worse. Soon, I had shooting pains up my neck and into the back of my head. It felt urgent for some reason. I asked Paul to get me something to help. He couldn't find a rice pack, so he put hot water in a baggie and I put that on my neck.

The pain continued to get worse and when I went to tell Paul that, I realized I couldn't really speak. I could say some words, but not complete the sentences that were in my head. I went straight upstairs and put my jeans back on (I had changed into my pajamas), because I knew I needed to go to the hospital right away. In the meantime, Paul called his brother Devn (a doctor) and Devn told him to take me to the hospital. I didn't grab anything I just walked straight out to the car, luckily Paul grabbed my phone and wallet. I wasn't thinking about delivery or baby, I was thinking about my brain.

We drove across the river to St. Peter's Hospital., while we were on our way, Devn called back and said - I changed my mind, call an ambulance. Since we were already in route, Paul let him know that and continued on to St. Peter's Hospital. We pulled into the Women's and Children's pavilion but Paul went to reception and they told him to take me straight to the E.R. We walked in to the E.R. at about 9:00 p.m. and I tried to explain that I was 38 1/2 weeks pregnant, and having a severe headache. Since I still couldn't talk much, Paul communicated for me. I was in a room and being evaluated in less than 30 seconds. I don't know if I even handed them my insurance card.

They immediately did an EKG and took my blood pressure. They also did a CT scan. They were concerned about a stroke or seizure. They also started monitoring the baby and found that he was doing fine, to my relief. They gave me a carton of 2% milk to drink (I hate milk, but I couldn't really taste it). Half of my tongue and part of my arm were numb at this point, and I was having slurred speech when I could get some words out.

My blood pressure was pretty elevated. I have naturally very low blood pressure, so although it wasn't in critical levels (for a normal person) it was way above what my "normal" is. They started me on IV drip of Magnesium. At this point, I could feel regular contractions. About two minutes apart, and not at all painful, just a tightening in my stomach. Somewhere in this process they called my OBGYN. We could overhear bits of it, and got more information later - but they wanted to do an emergency c-section. My doctor talked them out of it, recommended that they monitor my overnight, and he would come in first thing in the morning and evaluate me.

The picture Paul sent to my mom and dad from the E.R. to reassure them I was OK.

They sent a nurse named Nicole down from the Women's unit down to monitor the baby for a while and she confirmed that I was having regular contractions. Nicole reminded me of my mom a little, which was a comfort. She had a sweatshirt over her scrubs, and was nice and kind but kind of quiet. At around 1:00 a.m. she wheeled me up to the women's unit where I stayed overnight. Paul slept there too and neither of us got much sleep at all. Lots of machines, hourly checks on my blood pressure, and nurses coming and going to check contractions.

Our phones were almost dead so a nurse let us borrow a charger in case our iPhones were the only thing we had to capture the moments of our baby's arrival, and communicate to our family about what was happening.

A resident doctor came in sometime in the night to check my dilation and I was at a 2. Wow! I really was in labor and going to have a baby.

When my OBGYN came in the morning and he confirmed that.
Our conversation was something like this:

Dr. White: "Okay, Christine. It looks like you are preeclamptic. You have a couple of options, but the only cure for preeclampsia is to deliver the baby. We will keep you on the Magnesium to keep your blood pressure in check. Then, we can get you started on pitocin to augment the contractions you are having. I am not inducing you, because you are already in labor, we are just helping things along."

Me: "Are there any other options?"

Dr. White: "No."

I was devastated at this news. In all my "labor preparations" one thing I was sure of is that I wanted to avoid pitocin. From research I had done in labor books and scientific studies to birth stories of my friends and family, I had heard so many times of how pitocin had caused the labor to progress at inconsistent rates, contractions to be unnaturally strong, and the resulting complications for the mother and baby.

In fact, throughout my whole pregnancy I had marked in my head that my due date was Christmas, instead of the actual Dec 18th date. It was a mind game with myself so that when the 18th came and went, I wouldn't be too anxious to have the baby and feel the pressure to be induced. I'd asked my doctor previously how long I could wait for labor to come on it's own, and felt confident that I could be patient.

In the end, my body, not my mind was the impatient one. The pitocin was pumping through my veins to protect my baby from the body that had developed it. Preeclamspia is a beast.

Another fear of mine was realized next. I knew from my marathon that your body can run out of calories. I knew I wanted to be able to eat in the case where I had a long labor. I had researched this too, and knew that the risk of aspiration which causes this policy is so rare that a blanket approach to this in hospitals seems ridiculous. Before they started my on pitocin, I begged for breakfast. I wanted energy and calories to get me through this day.

The answer was, again, no. I asked the nurses to appeal to Dr. White. Still, no. They brought me some apple juice and that's the last thing besides ice chips that I put in my mouth for the duration of the long labor.

Since we were wildly unprepared to be at the hospital to have our baby, I sent Paul back home to get the essentials. I hadn't even packed a hospital bag, so he drove the 1.5 miles home across the river to shower, get our camera, phone chargers, a coat for me (except he accidentally grabbed a vest that looks like my coat), and some clothes for the little baby to come home.

At the morning nurse change I said goodbye to Nicole who had taken great care of me for the past 12 hours, and met Lani and Renee. They were both great, but I clicked with Renee right away. She was a fellow Westerner (from Colorado) and also a lacrosse player. She was new to New Jersey, and she was kind and helpful to me all day.

DELIVERY
Things went slow from there. I had hoped to be able to deal with contractions by walking around, moving positions, etc. But with all the monitors and IV attached to me, I had to call the nurses just to go to the bathroom. I tried resting, but didn't get much. The contractions were getting super intense. I was sure that I had made a lot of progress. When Dr. White came in to check my dilation after several hours, I was still at a two. I could not believe it. I had suffered for hours and made no progress.

My theory is that the Magnesium, which is generally given to women in pre-term labor to stop contractions, was fighting against the pitocin. So I was having strong contractions but they weren't doing their job. My energy level at this point was near zero, another side affect of the Magnesium plus a night without sleep. I knew my limits. I had decided in my birth-prep that if I ever did need pitocin then I would also have an epidural. If I did end up in an emergency c-section I didn't want to have to have General Anesthetic, and an epidural is the prerequisite for that. So, I asked Dr. White for the epidural and he said no, he wanted things to progress more and thought the epidural would slow down my labor.

I begged. I knew my energy was depleting too quickly. I had many more hours ahead of me and couldn't even face the next contraction. Dr. White gave into my pleas and they called the anesthesiologist. The contractions while I waited for him to come only confirmed that I couldn't continue on this path much longer.

They sent Paul out of the room when they gave me the epidural, which frustrated me ("Hospital Policy" because of too many fainting husbands?). He was waiting outside talking on the phone to Jeff I think. A nurse saw him and said, "We can't have MEN wandering around the halls!" So he hid in this little nook where the snacks/drinks are for a while. Back in my room, holding still during a painful contraction was the hardest part of getting the epidural.

The epidural allowed me to rest for a while. I don't think I ever fell asleep, but I did recover some energy. I was really worried about the numbness part of getting the epidural. I hate the "pins and needles" feeling when your foot falls asleep. I was happy to find I could feel my feet, and even move my legs a bit, but not feel the painfulness of the contractions.

Eventually Dr. White came back in sometime that afternoon and broke my water. He was wearing a weird cartoon sweatshirt over his scrubs and I thought it was really strange. I think that allowed things to progress quickly and within an hour or two I was feeling the contractions again even through the epidural.

I started to feel the urge to push during contractions. At this point they had let the epidural wear off for the most part, and it was INTENSE again. They told me not to push. They called for Dr. White and he checked my progress and found I was almost there and soon my room was full of people and I was in position to push. Dr. White later said that I was the best epidural pusher he'd ever seen. I think this was for a number of reasons - the first of which being my Tuba playing diaphragm (also that fact that I didn't really have any numbness from the epidural at that point, and I had researched how to push correctly so I kind of knew what  I was doing.)

The baby's heart rate was dropping dramatically with each contraction during pushing. Paul was scared out of his mind. I was on an oxygen mask at this point because I could barely keep my eyes open I was so exhausted. A contraction would start to come, I would tell the team, push with all my might for 10 seconds then gasp and gasp in the oxygen until the next contraction came.

Dr. White left the room in between contractions and came back in with even more people. Apparently he was about to use the forceps (and was a pro at them) because the baby was in so much distress, so all the med students and residents came in to watch. Luckily, that didn't end up happening. He told me he'd need to do an episiotomy to get the baby out as soon as possible. I said yes, and with the next push our baby boy was here.

He was born at 7:21 pm, weighing 6 lbs 13 oz and was 21 inches long.

Paul cut the cord, then they took him straight over to the pediatrics table, got him crying, and cleaned him up. I begged Paul to take pictures and videos and was desperate to get him into my arms. The nurse was pretty ornery and said, "I'm not coming back here in 10 minutes, so no Mom, you can't have him yet" (or something to that effect.) They were trying to make sure he was warm (which I felt like I could do better than any of them with a little skin-skin!). In the meantime I was being stitched up and without any pain relief so I begged Rene (the nurse, who was now an hour past her shift end but wanted to stay to the end) if I could squeeze her hand to get through it. She had to go clock out but came right back to help me while Paul stayed next to the baby.

Harvey's first picture

Finally the pediatric team handed over my sweet baby and I held him for the first time. He looked straight into my soul with dark blue eyes, and reached his hand straight up to grab my lip. It was relief and joy and instant love.

Meeting Harvey

Meeting mama.

Relief

RECOVERY
They moved us to our new room, on the way there the nurse complimented me on my flat stomach - the rest of me was so swollen/water retaining that I decided to be happy about that. The baby got his first bath while Paul looked on and I tried to regain some strength. Paul called our friend Kristin Smith and she brought me the one thing I'd wanted for the past 48 hours - an Orange Dream Machine from Jamba Juice. I also had dinner, but even though I was starving, had a hard time eating it. I had the cutest New Jersey nurse through that first night who was so cute and called me "Mommy".

The magnesium drip continued (preeclampsia can get even worse after delivery) and so my energy levels continued to be extremely low. When Kristin came, I could barely open my eyes to talk to her. That night, I was nervous to even hold Harvey because of how weak I felt. Paul was a champ and helped with Harvey all through the night. The nurses took him to the nursery for a short while but brought him back in the early early morning hours to announce his first bowel movement. :) When I tried to get up to go to the bathroom I blacked out for about 15 seconds (luckily, I had two nurses holding me). That really scared Paul, as you can imagine.

We stayed in the hospital for a day and a half longer. It felt like an alternate reality. I almost forgot I was still in New Jersey, I could have been on Mars. I had this new baby I'd been dying to meet,  I was suddenly a mom, not pregnant, didn't know any of the people around me, and was trying to learn the world of motherhood.

Baby Burrito

Skinny legs and giant diaper.

First bath.

Sleepy newborn. 

It's a Boy!

He always had his hands close to his face.

I was eventually taken off magnesium and was so happy to have energy again. Paul's sister Valerie came to the rescue and stayed with me the second night in the hospital and Paul went home to catch up on sleep. Before we left the hospital, we decided on our name for our sweet little boy. (The first few days we called him little buddy or little dude). I didn't feel like I should make such an important decision while I was still so tired and recovering. Within two days he had the name we had thought of when we were first married, Harvey Bryan Frandsen.

 
We took him home in a tiny gray and blue sweater romper and orange hat that I bought in Germany. He was so tiny in his car seat and Paul drove so slowly and carefully on the way to our apartment. I couldn't believe we got to keep him. I stared at him sitting in the living room, sleeping in his giant car seat, and realized he was really ours forever. I haven't stopped staring at him in wonder since.

Somehow we thought this onesie might fit. He is wearing it now at 9 months old. :)

Tiny baby.

 We love you HB!!!