Zack's Birth Story

It was eleven months until we got the news we had been waiting for. Eleven months of hope, followed by disappointment, tears and frustration, and every month that vicious cycle began again. We had come to the conclusion that it would never happen, and had reevaluated our goals and our future. It wasn't meant to be.

One hot day in August, I sat in the bathroom trembling as I stared at the test, watching as two pink lines made their way across the view screen. My shaking body barely made it out to Justin, who was on the back porch barbequing some chicken for our dinner. I managed to say “We're going to have a baby!”, and fell into his arms just as the tears made their way down my cheeks.

I had already been sick. In fact, that was the reason I was home that day. My upset stomach wouldn't allow me to work, and I was sent home to rest

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how we had gotten pregnant. According to my calculations we hadn't tried to conceive any time around when I should have been ovulating.

At one appointment with our midwife, a quick ultrasound showed that the baby was bigger than it should have been at 12 weeks. An appointment for a more detailed ultrasound was made, and the midwife's suspicions were confirmed. We were a week further than we thought. 

The timing suddenly made sense. I had ovulated a week early, and we had conceived on our second anniversary trip, when a baby was about the furthest thing from my mind. I couldn't believe it.

Justin and I enjoying some ice cream at the Tilamook Cheese Factory on our 2nd anniversary trip

The months dragged on and on. I didn't enjoy being pregnant, but I loved the anticipation that filled every day.

As we started our 20 week ultrasound, we told the technician “We want to wait to find out the baby's gender.” Just as she began to move the transducer over my uterus, I saw it. I looked at Justin to see if he had, but he didn't let on, so I kept quiet. We watched for 45 minutes as our baby rolled, kicked, punched and sucked it's thumb. At the end I looked at Justin as asked if he wanted to know. “If you want” was his reply. I did. I wanted to know if I had seen what I thought I had. So we asked, and I had. It was a boy! Justin said he had seen it in the beginning too.

Baby Zack sucking his thumb at 20 weeks

We had already picked a boy name. Zachariah Lloyd. Lloyd after Justin's grandpa, and it is Justin's middle name as well. The name Zachariah means “The Lord remembers.” How fitting for us! In a time when our hearts were longing to start a family, but our minds thought it wouldn't happen, our Lord remembered us and blessed us with our desire. 

The next few months were spent preparing for our little bundle. Cleaning, organizing, reorganizing, and dreaming. When I was 36 weeks, Justin and I started taking long, daily walks, and climbing stairs. We had been told many times that the best way to get the birthing process started was to exercise. We also knew that it would take more than just a few walks, so we started early in hopes of having the baby on time. I did not want to go late.

By the end of my pregnancy, I was miserable. I begged the midwife for help. “You've got to induce me, or scrape my membranes or something!” She laughed and shook her head. “I just scraped your membranes. I won't let you go past your due date.” she said. 
 

38 Weeks

Dreaming

Two days later, Saturday the 9^th of April, Justin and I spent some time doing yard work. I had weeded the flower beds the day before, so we bought new flowers to plant and I mowed the lawn. The neighbor from across the street came over and asked if I should be doing that. “Yes!” I said. “I'm 4 days from my due date, and I'm going to mow this baby out of me.” She laughed and went back home.

In the evening when the yard was finished, Justin and I went grocery shopping. On our way home, with our car filled with enough food to last a couple of weeks, we decided to stop for dinner at our favorite little Chinese place. At 10:30, and about halfway through my General Tso's, I had a contraction. After having several rounds of false labor over the last few weeks, it didn't phase me, and I kept eating. I had another one 5 minutes later, and another 5 minutes after that. By the fourth one, I was standing up beside our table with Justin behind me, arms supporting mine as I leaned against him. While I was focused on my breathing, the waitress came around the corner. “Are you ok?!” she practically dropped the tray of dishes she was holding. We laughed and told her I was fine, and sat back down. “I think this is it” I whispered to Justin. He replied, “I think so too.”

Justin dropped me off at home with the groceries and ran back to the store to pick up something we had forgotten. I did some dishes and laundry, but I had been keeping the house pretty much spotless over the last few weeks, so there wasn't much to do. By the time he got home, my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart. We decided to wait a little bit longer so that we spent as little time in the hospital as possible, and Justin packed up the car. At midnight, while I was standing at the kitchen counter, a contraction made me pee my pants a little. I was disgusted with myself and hurried to the bathroom to change. Just as I finished putting on my clean clothes, my water broke. It didn't gush as I expected, but only trickled a little. Another change of clothes and we decided to head for the hospital.

We checked in through the emergency room, and were sent up to labor and delivery. They monitored me off and on, and every time I laid down, the contractions slowed to 5-7 minutes apart. I was sent to walk the hall. We had a difficult time getting the nurse to believe that my water had broken. She ran test after test for amniotic fluid, but was convinced that it was the small amount of blood that was making them come up positive. We couldn't figure out why she kept trying the same type of test. After two hours of going round and round, I was getting frustrated. Justin held my hand and calmly told me not to worry. “You're obviously in labor. If they send us home, we'll just come back later.” He was right. It didn't matter that the nurse couldn't figure things out. This baby was coming. 

The nurse overheard him say that to me and decided to try one more test. “This one is a lot more accurate. The blood won't effect it.” She warned us that this test can take up to 10 minutes for a positive result. 8 minutes into it, as I was beginning to doubt myself, the color suddenly turned. Positive for amniotic fluid. We were told that I must have a small hole high up on my sack, and were admitted and sent to our own room. It was April 10th, 2011, at 2:30 in the morning.

The next 4 hours started with walking and breathing, and slowly turned to crying and gritted teeth. At 6 AM I was dilated to 6. We asked for an epidural, which I had already planned on having. 

The nurse asked Justin if he had had anything to eat, and suggested he go to the cafeteria when he said no. Thankfully, he refused. I reminded him that there was a snickers bar in the bag and encouraged him to eat it, but he refused that as well. “If you can't eat, I'm not going to eat in front of you.” 

During one contraction, while I was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to concentrate on breathing and waiting for my epidural, I felt a rushing sensation and looked down. “I'm peeing and I can't stop!” Justin assured me it was ok, and that it probably happened all the time. When it continued on, I realized that I wasn't peeing, but that my water had broken completely. My contractions intensified and we asked the nurse when the anesthesiologist would be in. They had made a call half an hour ago and no one was in the office. No one had bothered to check back. 

One nurse offered a pain killer, and although I had previously said I didn't want anything but my epidural, I caved. It was a huge mistake. The medicine helped take the edge off of one contraction and then stopped working. I was also now throwing up.

At 7 I was dilated to 7 and finally got my epidural. I was hot and sweaty from labor, and nervous about the pain everyone had warned the needle would cause. A nurse put her hands on my shoulders to steady me, and the coolness of her hands was incredibly soothing. I relaxed and felt a small pinch in my back. Seconds later, the anesthesiologist announced that she was finished. “That's it?” I asked. “That's it” she replied. The pain was nothing compared to the contractions I had been having. 

The epidural took effect in a few short minutes, and as my exhausted body relaxed against the hospital bed, I looked at the anesthesiologist and told her I loved her. Her laughter was the last thing I would remember until a few hours later.

I was awoken by a nurse who told me that the epidural had relaxed me too much and my contractions had slowed considerably. She needed my permission to give me Pitocin to get things moving again. Justin and I agreed. My labor had slowed so much that I was given a second dose when the first didn't pick things up quickly enough.

My contractions were soon rolling again and it was time to push. A nurse held one leg up for me while Justin held the other. I leaned forward and pushed with all my might while he counted to ten. Then I threw up. I was rolled to my side and began pushing again. Pushing, grunting, counting to ten. Relaxing back on the pillow until the next contraction came. Over and over, it went. Every time I was switched to my back, I threw up, and was put back on my side. I was asked if I wanted to switch to the other side. “Yes.” I threw up during the few seconds I was on my back while I was being rolled over. 

The baby's heart rate dropped suddenly, and I was quickly returned to my other side. His heart rate went back up. 

The nurses kept asking if I wanted a mirror. My reply was always the same. “No! I don't want to see that!” I knew it would send me over the edge. 

I was so uncomfortable from laying on my side for such a long time, and worn out from pushing. I started to lose my concentration, my pushing getting weaker and weaker. The doctor and Justin started saying things like “Stay with me.” “You can do it!” “We're almost there!” “Just a few more pushes!”

And then I was asked if I wanted to touch the baby. It took me completely off guard, and my initial response was “No!”, but the doctor encouraged me, and I found my hand making it's way down, fingers feeling along my belly, hip, pelvis, and I was suddenly no longer touching myself. 

That's when it hit me. This baby wasn't me. There was a being inside of me that was separate from myself. His own person, fully formed and developed and with his own spirit. How amazing is that!

I was awestruck and lost my concentration altogether. “Push, Jessica.” I tried to push, but my fatigue had taken over. “I can't. I'm too tired.” “You can do it! Just a few more pushes.” I was sick of hearing that sentence and quickly sat up to look straight into the doctor's eyes. “How many?” I demanded. “Two” she said. “Two more big ones.” 

I pushed once and suddenly felt overwhelming pressure. It scared me to death and panic nearly took over. “He's crowning! You're doing great. Push again!”

One more push and Justin's jaw dropped. “Look” he said, and pointed. I looked. Across my belly and between my legs I could see a head. One final push and we watched as he slid out of my body and into the doctor's arms. 

Justin cut the umbilical cord as I fell back onto the bed. Two hours of pushing was over. I have no concept of the time that passed before Zack was given to me. 

8 pounds and 10 ounces. 21 ¼ inches. My big boy, Zachariah Lloyd, was placed into my arms and I cried while smiling ear to ear. My body shook from exhaustion and excitement. I had never felt such overwhelming emotions. He was mine and I was his, and I knew I had never loved anyone more.

Meeting my son face to face

Whispering sweet nothings

I moved him to my breast and he began to suckle. Justin and I stared at him for hours. Rocking him, snuggling him, telling him how much we loved him and how perfect he was. We were on cloud nine as we went to bed that night. 

Justin and his boy getting some snuggles in

A few hours after he was born we started begging to go home. We asked every nurse and doctor that walked through our door. Each of them told us the same thing, that we had to wait for 24 hours. 

The next morning, we were up early, and again began to ask if we could leave. My doctor came up to check me, and cleared me to be released. After that, we only needed to see the pediatrician. It was nearly noon before she made it up to see us, and by then all of our bags were packed in anticipation. One more check up. Vitals, weight, hearing test, and Zack was cleared too. We practically ran through those doors.

Buckled in and ready to go home

Once home, we introduced our baby boy to the dogs. Justin's dog Samantha was enamored from the start, but Lucy, who had been my baby since before I met Justin, wouldn't even look at me. One sniff of Zack, and that was it. She spent the next 3 days ignoring me.

Justin was able to take a week off of work and spent that time taking care of me and doting on our son. 

It wasn't all easy, and we spent months adjusting. Every time we thought we had things figured out, they would change again. We have since come to the conclusion that this is life as a parent, and try to embrace it as much as possible. Through all of our ups and downs, becoming parents has been the hardest, most wonderful and rewarding adventure of our life, and we thank God for this boy every single day. 

Zachariah Lloyd Reude