Conrad’s Birth Story
Let me tell you about
The day Conrad was born
I have been looking forward to sharing my birth story with you on how Conrad made his arrival into this world. I intended to share this a few months ago, but I needed more time to process it due to some postpartum complications. I’ve wanted to document and write it down for my memory, and before more time passes, I feel ready to share. In case you missed it, I have been very open and honest about my pregnancy journey, from trying to conceive and surviving the first to the second trimester, navigating bump style, traveling while pregnant, the third trimester, and even what I used in my hospital bag and early postpartum. As you can see, we’ve covered a lot! You can view even more of my previous posts throughout my journey on the “motherhood” tab of the blog.
I want to preface this post and say I have a positive birth story and had a good overall experience. It almost felt too good to be true because everything went as smoothly as I could have hoped for. But I won’t lie to you, I was then hit by a ton of bricks in my early postpartum days, which resulted in surgery seven weeks postpartum. By sharing my experience here today, please know that it does not invalidate anyone else’s experiences or feelings. This is my story, how I experienced it, and I appreciate your grace as I navigate and process through it.
HEADING OUT FOR A WALK ON THE MORNING JUNE 18
THE LAST BUMP PICTURE I TOOK, TWO HOURS BEFORE MY WATER BROKE
It was Sunday, June 18th:
Father’s Day
Brian woke up early to put a pork shoulder in the smoker, and later on, we were hosting my family over for a low-key celebration. It was a beautiful summer day, one of the first ones that we had in a while. Brian and I went for our usual mile stroll around the block, ate some fruit, and then I decided to lay out in the skimpiest bikini I ever owned before my family came over to soak up some sun. I remember my mom offering to host Father’s Day, but we figured it'd be safe to be at our house since it was so close to my due date, and we had the pool open.
My due date was June 20th, and for no good reason, I was hellbent on having this baby on June 20th or later. I am very much a planner and decided that's how it would go (spoiler, was I wrong). I wrapped up most of my work obligations that previous Friday, and I was preparing to enjoy the weekend, maybe do some laundry and relax a little before enduring labor. Brian and I argued that morning about how this baby was coming whenever he wanted, and I assured Brian that he was coming on June 20th or later. There was truly no reasoning with me at that point.
The afternoon rolled in, and I changed into my family-friendly one-piece, floated in the pool, and spent quality time with my parents and sister. Brian and my dad were inside the house, putting the final touches on serving dinner, while my mom, sister, and I were outside sitting at our dining set. I vividly remember explaining to my mom and sister what I wanted after giving birth, the exact turkey sub I wanted my sister to bring me, etc.
Around 4:15 pm, I felt a “pop” and then a gush. I couldn’t believe it, paused, and waited a few seconds before feeling another gush. Meanwhile, I’ve been told by many people that your water doesn’t break like you see it portrayed in the movies, and let me tell you, it very much felt like something dramatic out of the movies! I stood up, and my mom confirmed that my water was breaking and ran inside to tell Brian. Simultaneously, I guess my dad was asking Brian all the questions like “So, are you ready to be a dad?” when my mom ran in and said, “Brian, you need to come outside.” It was time, ready or not. I quickly announced that everyone needed to remain calm and that I needed to wash my hair (lol). At that moment, Brian decided it was a good time to start packing his hospital bag while mine (all three of them, including a large checked luggage) sat patiently by the door. I called my friend Ailsa, aka @_happygocurly_, a Midwife, and asked her how much time I had to get to the hospital because I NEEDED to wash my hair. She said, “Girl, you better hustle,” I quickly jumped into the shower.
While Brian and I were getting ready, my parents and sister were stirring downstairs with a freshly prepared dinner that no one could eat in that exciting, high-anxiety moment. They were kind enough to put my bags in the car, and my dad was waiting outside in the garage with his iPhone pointed in my direction, ready to document the moment. I instructed my sister that no paparazzi were allowed, and she told him to put the phone away (we laugh about this now; if you knew our family dynamic, you might think this is even funnier). We said our goodbyes. Brian and I scurried to the car and drove off. My sister-in-law sent me an encouraging text message that said something along the lines of “Here’s to the beginning of your birth story,” and it was at that moment reality started setting in.
Once we got to the hospital
Around 6 p.m., we were brought into triage to confirm that my water had broken and I didn’t just pee myself. The shift changed around 7 p.m., so we had a new staff once they admitted me. Once we got into the labor and delivery room, I sent Brian back to the car to get our stuff, making two trips. On his second trip back, he noticed a friendly face at the nurse’s station, asking if he needed help. Once our assigned nurse came in, I sent her back to the nurse’s station with one of the baskets I had made as a token of our appreciation. At this point, I started feeling contractions and bouncing on a ball. We then heard a knock on the door, and it was the friendly face Brian had noticed before… I wish I could remember her name, but one of the nurses was a follower/reader of the blog and wanted to say hi. We had a good giggle at that, like what are the chances?!
After that, things started progressing fairly quickly, and time was a blur. Contractions started intensifying, and we were trying to rest to prepare for the long night ahead. I remember being unable to get comfortable, and they administered something to help with the pain. I remember having uncontrollable shakes, and I think it was a bit of adrenaline pumping through. Eventually, I was checked, and to their surprise, I had dilated significantly, things were moving at a nice pace. At this point, I was ready and able to get an epidural. They sent Brian out of the room to administer, and I remember hearing/reading so much about how badly the needle hurt, but I don’t remember the pain, I remember that I was shaking so much that they had a hard time getting it into the proper place, the nurse had to bear hug me to keep still, and they had to do it twice. Once the needle was in, though, it was smooth sailing. We were able to get a little rest, and around 8 a.m. the next day, they checked me again and asked me if I felt any urge to push because I was fully dilated. I didn’t yet, so we just hung out, and I kept switching positions. I somehow remembered that I had a couple more work obligations to wrap up, so there I was, 10cm dilated and posting on Instagram. Brian and I laughed at that, but it shows how incredible that epidural had me feeling.
I had assigned Brian one task throughout the entire duration of labor and delivery, and it was to keep me laughing. Somehow, he interpreted that as making everyone laugh, so our room had good vibes the entire time. I also threw a mini diffuser in my bag and had lavender going throughout the duration of our stay, so anytime anyone walked in, they commented on how nice and calming it smelled. I also brought our favorite bed pillows from home, which helped me feel comfortable.
ONCE WE WERE SETTLED IN, WE REALIZED WE NEVER ATE DINNER SO MY SNACK BAG CAME IN HANDY :)
THE LAST PIC OF JUST THE TWO OF US
The doctor came in
It was time to start pushing, which was much harder than I had imagined. They turned down my epidural so I could start feeling more and guided me through the contractions. I took Mommy Labor Nurse’s Epidural Course, which I found helpful for my preparations and especially to advocate for switching positions if needed. I pushed for almost two hours. When I felt like I couldn’t do it anymore, they told me to reach down and feel the head crowning. I kindly said, “No, thank you" but I finally agreed, and it was the nudge of encouragement I needed. The labor and delivery team were truly angels on earth, so kind, so supportive. They would root and cheer for me after every push, shouting “good job” even when I didn’t think I made any progress. Each time, I’d say, "Are you just being nice?” or “Was that really a good one?” Whether it was or not, they assured me I was doing great. I couldn’t have done it without the supportive environment that the nurses and Brian created.
With one final push, we heard that first cry and welcomed our sweet baby boy into the world. Conrad Lorenz Koch was born on June 19th at 11:38 a.m., weighing 7 pounds, 5oz, and 21 inches long. At 39 weeks and six days, our son arrived right on time. Simultaneously, our very eager and excited families texted Brian throughout the process, asking for play-by-play updates. Brian was full of emotion, doing his best to be in the moment and also trying to let everyone know that all was okay, he quickly snapped a picture and sent it out to the entire family. Little did he know that my chest was fully exposed. Whoops. Way to go, dad.
It was time to deliver the placenta, and I remember the doctor commenting on how much stuff kept coming out, I didn’t think much of it but remembered it taking a while to get stitched up, and I was feeling more and more as time went on and my epidural wore off. Eventually, I remember my nurses encouraging me to use the bathroom, and that was the beginning of the most raw, vulnerable, and humbling experience of my entire life. They treated me with the utmost dignity and respect, but I remember feeling so vulnerable. We were eventually wheeled over to the Mother & Baby unit, where we stayed for two more days before checking out and going home.
Now remember, Conrad was due on June 20th or later (according to my unofficial plan), but he decided to arrive on June 19th. I’m not sure if you remember, but my uncle (my mom’s brother, the one who taught me how to make my great-grandmother’s sauce and meatballs) died tragically on December 19th, almost two years ago. I can’t help but wonder if he had something to do with that.
SWEET BABY CONRAD, LESS THAN AN HOUR OLD
Postpartum is no joke
Looking back, I don’t think you can ever fully be prepared for labor and delivery, but I felt as prepared as possible, which gave me great comfort. As soon as it all started, I tried to stay in a good headspace and allow things to unfold the way that they were going to, relinquishing control. Postpartum, on the other hand, hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I don’t think I read/heard/saw much about it (or wanted to) because I was so focused on crossing that finish line and getting my son earthside safely. It’s wild how my mindset quickly shifted from taking care of myself to taking care of another human.
Once we arrived home from the hospital, I had passed several significant-sized blood clots. I knew they were possible and was instructed to call the doctor if they were larger than a golf ball. I called, and they told me to monitor for extra heavy bleeding, but I wish that I would’ve been brought in. The last thing I wanted to do was leave the house, so I didn’t push it. At my six-week checkup, I was still experiencing bleeding and some smaller clotting, and it was then that I was brought in for an immediate ultrasound. Turns out, everything that needed to come out did not during delivery. I was not feeling like myself, but I didn’t have a good baseline because I didn’t remember what “normal” felt like. I didn’t know what was typical postpartum or not. I was then put on induction medication to try and encourage contractions to pass what I needed to on my own. To my understanding, this isn’t common, but it isn’t uncommon. I am very lucky that I didn’t have an infection, though.
Unfortunately, a week later, I was unable to pass what I needed to and was scheduled for a dilation and curettage surgery. I’m not going to lie; it was really scary, and the last thing I thought I’d be doing newly postpartum was undergoing anesthesia. But I knew that I needed to do it, as scary as it was, for my health. I am exclusively breastfeeding and was nervous about how we were going to manage the baby, leaving him at home because I needed Brian to go with me. Thankfully, my mom stayed with him and gave him bottles, and he was fine. I was extremely emotional and still have a hard time talking about it all, to be honest, but everything went as smoothly as possible, and I have recovered since.
If there’s one thing that I learned throughout this entire process, you need to be able to advocate for your health. I thought I did a good job of it while I was pregnant, but now I realize I could’ve done a better job of it postpartum. I don’t blame myself for what happened, but I knew something was off and suppressed those feelings. Let this be a good reminder to anyone, that you have to be in control of your own health.
Thank you for reading
If you’ve made it this far, I appreciate you! Our bodies are amazing, and it’s incredible what we can do. Words cannot even begin to express my gratitude for my healthy, happy son and the perspective he’s given me. It was harder than expected to write this, and as always, I appreciate the kindness and support you share with me at my most vulnerable moments.
xx CMK
