1 Month Pictures

Still the most adorable little boy in the universe!!!

Newborn Pictures

Isn't he the sweetest thing?!

Birth Story

Soooooooo, this little story was written over the course of about 6 weeks. And it's not so little, actually. But I didn't want to forget anything from Asher's eventful entrance into this world!

Monday rolled around and I found myself in the same old routine, going back to work after the weekend. But this wasn’t just any normal Monday blues I was feeling. I had fully anticipated that I would go into labor and have this baby by Monday! But, of course, nothing. Few, if any, contractions. Still moving like normal. No baby dropage.

So I headed to work. In maternity clothes that still  fit me. And I did my thing there. Which of late had consisted of lots of talking with coworkers. After another one of the longest days of my life, I headed home.

I made meatloaf and we settled in to eat and watch some show online. There were still things on my to-do list that I wanted to get done before baby arrived, so I picked up my lazy-extra-40-pound-body off the couch and got to it.

On my way to bring the dishes from dinner to the kitchen, I felt a little trickle. I walked a few more steps, and another trickle, heavier than the first. Without a moment to lose, I rushed to the bathroom - much faster than I thought possible - just in case the unexpected was really happening. I got to the toilet and sat down. I really had to pee, but I was doing my best to hold it in so that I wouldn’t miss the water breakage, if in fact it was about to take place.

All of a sudden it felt like I was vomiting out the other end. Literally, the sensation was like vomiting. Uncontrollable, disgusting, yet relieving somehow. And it just kept coming. I yelled for MIchael. He came in pretty quickly, maybe in anticipation? I said to him, “I think my water’s breaking!” I don’t know if he believed me at first, but he looked excited. After the gush subsided, we examined the results. It was yellowish - kind of surprising - and stringy a little bit. I was glad to see there was no meconium in the fluid.

I got up and ran around the apartment trying to tidy up a bit, so we wouldn’t have to come home to an uber-messy home. I instructed Michael to do all the dirty dishes, while I made the bed and finished packing my hospital bag. It took me three times as long as it should have - I kept walking through all the rooms, I think in disbelief that within the next 24 hours, we would get to meet our baby boy! I was SO excited and SO terrified.

At some point during one of my laps I called the doctor. Taverna-Miller was on call. My contractions were around 5-6 minutes at that point - still relatively pain-free. Dr. Miller asked about my progress as of my last appointment - 3cm. She said to come in to the hospital.

So off we went, once the house was picked up and our bags packed, of course. We called our parents during the 35 minute drive to the hospital. Called my brother and sister and texted some friends. After finding a parking spot in the near-vacant lot at the Priscilla Payne Hurd Pavilion, we arrived at 10:40pm to the door of the hospital where our son would be born! It was locked. So off to the emergency room entrance we walked. (It was next door.) I checked in and within a few minutes, the nurses checked me over. They led me to a wheelchair to ride in, and instructed us to wait to be taken to Labor and Delivery. We waited and waited and waited. Probably for about 30 minutes. Finally a cute brunette female nurse came and wheeled me through a maze of hallways, doors, and elevators to the Labor & Delivery floor, with Michael following with all of our stuff (one big suitcase, a bag of books, pillow, diaper bag, and laptop bag). The girl dropped us off at the front desk and we checked in. I got a wristband, and we were directed to the triage room, of which I was very familiar from my pre-term labor scares.

We got settled in for our brief visit to triage and I changed into my gown and paper underwear. I laid on the bed and the nurse hooked me up to the external fetal heart rate monitor and contraction monitor. A few minutes after laying down, the other half of my water gushed out of me. I was left sitting in a puddle. Pretty disgusting.

Dr. Stone - the Resident on call, came in and wanted to do an internal exam. The nurse indicated that it was clear that my water had broken, evidenced by the enormous lake I was hanging out in. But Dr. Stone was persistent and began to pull on gloves. Thankfully, the nurse was even more persistent. And while Dr. Stone’s back was turned, she dipped the PH stick in the ocean underneath me - success! It turned whatever color it needed to, indicating that my water had indeed broken. Well duh. It’s not like I pee when I’m just hanging out not on the toilet. Dr. Stone then checked my progress - 4cm and 70% effaced!

We were told we could walk around while the cleaning staff readied our labor and delivery room. We took a quick lap around the floor and then moved our stuff over. We sat in there for quite a while before anyone got there. I took advantage of the unsupervised time by eating some snacks we had brought. And I filled the pockets of my robe with some of the rice cakes. No nurse was going to tell me I couldn’t eat!

The cleaning lady came back. Evidently she wasn’t finished cleaning the room. We waited and watched as she finished. Out she went and in came Dr. Taverna-Miller. At first it was all pleasantries. And then she got right down to it. “If you haven’t progressed far enough in 6 hours - about a centimeter an hour - I’m going to give you pitocin.” Of course, we kind of took it as a threat. It sure sounded like one. But really we had no reason to think I would progress much slower than that. Though we had heard of the natural alignment plateau in our Bradley classes. But still, this would be a battle we’d fight later, if needed.

Our nurse Kelly came in - a sweet girl who looked to be in high school. She put in a saline lock since I didn’t want to have an IV in. Kelly proceeded to tell me that I would need to be in the bed to be monitored for thirty minutes of every hour. I didn’t ask, but I assumed it was because of my water having broken. So around 1am she hooked me up to the fetal and contraction monitors for the first - of MANY - times.

As I lay in bed being monitored, I decided it might be a good time for us to try to get some sleep, being as my contractions were still relatively pain-free. So for about the next hour and a half, we got a bit of sleep off and on. After the next monitoring session, we decided to walk around the halls. We were just too excited to sleep. How could we?! This was the moment we’d been preparing for with prayer and Bradley classes. Sometime in the next day we would meet our baby!

The next few hours went pretty quickly. We were back and forth and back and forth - walking the halls and back to bed to be monitored. My contractions were increasing in intensity, and I began to get hints of back labor, which I was trying to not let concern me.

At one point during that early morning stretch I got to go in the jacuzzi, which provided some decent pain relief. Kelly came with us. I loved that I had my nurse all to myself. Was wonderful to have such focused care.

Michael left at one point to call Marlene, our Bradley Method instructor, to find out if she had had any suggestions. It seemed like he was gone forever. When he relayed their discussion to me, she had indicated that baby was likely posterior, and to do pelvic rocks to help him turn.

At 6am, Dr. Stone came in to check my progress. 5cm and 70%. Only a one centimeter increase! At this rate I wouldn’t have Baby Amman until Wednesday night! We were so thankful it wasn’t Dr. Miller checking us and pushing pitocin again.

At 7am, Hilary came on as our nurse, and we said goodbye to Kelly. We kept trudging along, back to our routine of walking around and being monitored. In the course of the monitoring, we found out that Hilary lives in East Bangor. And goes to the Mt. Bethel Church. And knows many of the leadership of Hopesprings. She was so sweet to us.

At 9am, Dr. Miller came back in to check me. 7cm!!! And 80% effaced! When she told us, we all cheered. I was progressing! Finally! Then she went on...”You should progress now at a centimeter an hour. You should be pushing by noon. Actually, you should have this baby before noon. If you don’t then we’re going to look at giving you pitocin.” UGH!!! So frustrating! Did she even read our birth plan?! This time I spoke up. “We really want to avoid the use of pitocin,” I said. “Can’t we just continue on naturally?”

“You should have had this baby by now,” She replied. “You’re lucky I haven’t been in here more often - the woman pushing next door has been distracting me. If it were up to me you would have gotten pitocin a long time ago.” Okay. Well, that was that.

It was around this time that the pain really intensified. We continued to walk around between being monitored. When a contraction would come, I shut down completely. The pain was completely overwhelming. It radiated from my lower back and went in every direction to totally overtake my body. It was like my body was as stiff as a board, and shaking incredibly violently at the same time. The pain overtook absolutely everything, including my mind. My brain hurt. Back in the room during my monitoring I was doing pelvic rocks to try to get the baby to turn - we were convinced he was posterior. I pelvic rocked on a birthing ball on the floor. I rocked it on the ball on the bed! ANYTHING to help the pain and get this baby to move.

Much of this time I don’t remember. I was giving one-word answers to questions. I really had to focus on relaxing. It was so incredibly difficult. Late morning we heard the lady next door pushing. She was SCREAMING. I heard that she was going natural too. In the midst of my pain, I managed to complain to Hilary that the lady was already pushing and I wasn’t. Dr. Taverna-Miller came back in around 1:00 pm. I was at 8 cm, and the contractions at this point were ranging between 4-7 minutes apart. This time she wasn’t pushing pitocin, she was pushing antibiotics - due to my water having broken and baby not yet making an appearance. We went back and forth on this too. Finally I agreed to the antibiotics in exchange for going in the jacuzzi again. I got hooked up to the IV, then we ventured back over to the jacuzzi room. This time the heat and water pressure didn’t provide much relief at all. Between contractions I asked Hilary about Dr. Episcopio’s (who we learned was coming on call next) C-Section history, in anticipation of not being able to vaginally deliver our little boy. Hilary informed us that Dr. Episcopio was in her second year out of residency. OH MY GOODNESS! She’s so new, is what I was thinking. But Hilary assured us that she had done many surgeries. I didn’t feel much better, but I just hoped that it wouldn’t come to that.

Back in our room a bit later, Hilary informed us that she requested to stay on as our nurse until 7pm. We loved her. How many nurses do that for their patients?!?! I started considering an epidural, but I didn’t dare verbalize it. I knew that once I said it out loud, I’d likely go through with it. So, instead, I kept pushing through. Around 3:30 (about an hour later) I just couldn’t handle it anymore. So I told Michael and Hilary that I would probably need the epidural. Michael said to me, “I know you’d want me to ask you this, so I’m just going to ask - are you sure that you want to do this?” I was. “Will you regret it later?” Nope. It was time. So Hilary summoned the anesthesiologist. In the meantime, she let us know that she wasn’t going to be able to stay on. I begged her to hook us up with a really good nurse, and she promised she’d deliver. At 4 she was preparing to leave and she filled in our new nurse Mel with everything that was going on. She came over to say goodbye, and, sensing our disappointment of her leaving, she asked if we’d like her to pray for us. Of course! She prayed over us and our baby, gave me a hug and kiss, and was off. Now it was Mel’s turn to be our support.

The anesthesiologist finally arrived and started preparing us for the epidural. I asked him right before he administered it about possible side effects. He didn’t really go into much, which was annoying. But I still signed the consent and got into position. I obviously did not look at the needle, or any other items he would be using. The worst part of getting the epidural was enduring mind-numbingly painful contractions and staying still. But I made it! The needle was in and the medicine was pumping through me. The doctor said that it would take some time for the medication to take effect. I suddenly wondered if my scoliosis would have any affect, so I asked. “Well,” the doctor replied, “it might cause only one side of your body to feel numb.” WHAT?!?!?! You mean to tell me that when I was bent over and my spine was protruding, you couldn’t see that it was in an obvious “S” shape???? And you couldn’t have said something?!?! “What can we do?” I asked. He said that we’d see how the contractions feel after a bit. If I still felt them on one side, they’d have me turn to that side and have the medicine drain towards it. If that didn’t help, he could redo the epidural. To say I was upset is an incredible understatement. I finally caved to the epidural, and now it might not even do its job?!?!

About 15 minutes later during a contraction, I realized that I felt nothing on my right side. At the same moment, I realized the excruciating pain was still radiating in my left lower back. UGH. I told the anesthesiologist, and Mel helped me roll onto my left side. A few contractions later..... BLISS. Some pressure, of course. But pressure I could handle, no problem.

Shortly after 5:00, Dr. Episcopio came in. She said she’d been briefed by Dr. Taverna-Miller, and that she did agree with her about the pitocin. Michael and I discussed this with her for a bit, and decided to do it. Dr. Episcopio guaranteed I would get just the minimum amount initially, to see how baby would handle it. This was reassuring to me, as that was one of my main concerns. The other main concern was out the window at this point, as I knew I wouldn’t feel the telltale increase in pain due to the pitocin kicking my contractions up a notch.

So they hooked me up. And we waited. And waited. And waited. We were going on a full day in labor at this point. And we were feeling it. We were going on 24 hours - the magic number after water breaking. It was occurring more often that baby’s heartbeat would go down, and Mel would come in quickly to have me shift - thinking that baby was sitting on his cord. It got more and more difficult to deal with this as it had been going on for hours now and baby hadn’t emerged. Though neither of us were saying it, both Michael and I were terrified that our baby wasn’t going to be okay.

Around 6:30, Dr. Episcopio stopped back to check my progress. 9 cm dilated and 90% effaced!!! The pitocin was working!!! My contractions were getting a little closer together, around 3-4 minutes. She said she’d give it a couple more hours and be back to check my progress again.

At 7, Mel left, and Angie arrived. She was kind of gruff. Abrasive. All business. At first anyway. But she was still caring. She helped me move into whatever position I requested. And answered questions that I had. We kept waiting and asking when Dr. Episcopio would be back to check me. And she was supposedly coming. Everytime we asked. Somewhere in that time, the pitocin was turned off, since baby wasn’t doing so hot with his heartbeat. Angie rushed in even more times than Mel to have me move around to help his heartrate increase again. Our fear grew, silently.

Michael began to complain about a headache (which I already knew was there) and nausea. He was attempting to sleep in the recliner next to me, but it just wasn’t working. He got up to use the bathroom and stayed in there for a while vomiting. When he emerged, he asked Angie about getting an IV hooked up. He knew he was dehydrated - he’d hardly eaten or drank anything all of Tuesday. Unfortunately, they couldn’t do anything for him on the labor and delivery floor, and we were afraid to send him down to the Emergency Room for fear that he would be down there for hours. I was terrified. I was already afraid of losing our baby. Now I might have to go through the rest of my labor on my own while Michael recuperated two floors down and one building over? This isn’t the way it was supposed to happen!!! Angie started asking around to other nurses and residents about what they could do for him. Around that time, Dr. Episcopio came back in to check me out. I was still at 9 cm, but 100% effaced now. And +2 station. At that moment, an awesome resident called down to the ER to tell them the situation and that Michael would be coming down - and that he’d need to be in and out since I’d be pushing shortly.

Before I knew it, Michael was out the door on his was to the ER, and Dr. Episcopio was getting me ready to push. By myself. Without my coach. Without my husband. I was looking quite pale, according to Angie, so she put an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. And they expected me to push with this thing on my face?! That stupid oxygen mask kept getting in my way, so I kept tearing it off, and Angie kept putting it on. I was surprised Dr. Episcopio had me pushing even though I was only 9 cm. She assured me there was plenty of room for him to come through. I took a few deep breaths as instructed by Angie, and puusssshhheddddd for a count of 10 seconds. Then ppuuussssshhhheddddd again for 10. Then again. Then I could relax. Fifteen minutes and several contractions later, Michael strolled in as if he felt like a million bucks. I couldn’t believe the change. He’d later describe the experience in the ER like a NASCAR pit stop. He went down and gave them his name, and all these people swooped in to take care of him. We were so thankful that he was able to get back so quickly. His headache remained, but the nausea was gone. He was there as I continued pushing during contractions for another 30 minutes.

At that point, Dr. Episcopio seemed frustrated, and slightly confused. She even said she didn’t understand why baby wasn’t coming. There was plenty of room for him to come out. When I pushed, his head came down, she said. But then it would go right back up to where it had been. As she said this, I knew the inevitable was coming. I think I knew it for hours. She said to Michael and me, at this point, “I think we need to consider either giving more pitocin to help you dilate all the way or a C-Section.” “Is there anyway I can go without the pitocin, and see if my body will finish dilating on its own?” I asked. Dr. Episcopio answered, “You could do that, but it might just delay things - and actually baby wasn’t doing so well with the pitocin.” Michael and I looked at each other. “Well, we’ve done all we can,” Michael said. And I agreed. It was time for baby to be born. We informed the doctor that we would go forward with the Cesarean. “You’ve done a ton of these, right?” I asked her. “Yes,” she replied with a smile. And Michael asked, “You’re going to do the best job you’ve ever done, right?” “Of course,” she answered. “How do I know that I’m not going to feel it?” I asked. Dr. Episcopio informed me that they do a test to see if I feel anything before cutting me open. All of a sudden there were a bunch of nurses and residents getting things ready, calling the anesthesiologist, etc. This was the very last place we wanted to be with baby’s birth. Disappointment doesn’t even come close. Though at this point, after nearly 25 hours of labor, he needed to be born. Especially with the heartrate issues.

Before I knew it, they were wheeling me to the OR, with Michael by my side. It was quite surreal. We arrived at the operating room and I realized we forgot the camera! “We forgot the camera!” I exclaimed. “Michael, go get it! Hurry!” He didn’t hesitate. He turned around and ran back to the room to retrieve our little point and shoot. There was no way we were going to miss out on pictures of our freshly born little boy! As we entered the room I said, “I’m not meaning to be vain, just wondering. Do you lose more weight by giving birth vaginally or by Cesarean?” That got a laugh. Someone in the room said she thought it would be about the same. They began prepping me. The sheet went up beneath my arms, and the anesthesiologist was near my head, filling my body with the drugs I’d need to not feel the pain I was secretly afraid of feeling. Michael was back at my side with a white jumpsuit, cap, and mask on.

We were just waiting, and all of a sudden I felt some type of movement on my abdomen. “Did you already open me up?” I asked. Indeed they had. (I later learned that before the incision, they used some forceps or something to pinch my skin and see if I’d react. I obviously didn’t because I couldn’t feel it.) An insane amount of pressure at the top of my abdomen caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but release this unnatural, guttural noise that lasted as long as the pressure. I knew that I sounded like a crazy animal, but it was not something I could control. When it was over, we heard a little cry, and I couldn’t hold it together anymore. At 10:25pm, and after 25 hours of labor, our son was here, and I couldn’t do anything but cry tears of joy and relief. Simultaneously I heard a muffled gasp from some of the nurses. “What’s going on,” I asked? Dr. Episcopio said that the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, stomach, and through his legs. No wonder this little guy wasn’t coming out earlier!

They carefully unraveled him, and one of the nurses rushed him back to the baby station to suction him and make sure he was good. “Gimme a second,” she said to Michael. Once the preliminary stuff was done, she called Michael back, and he cut the cord. Our little boy was wrapped in a blanket and topped with a little hat. 

Finally, Michael brought him out to meet me. He gave him to me to hold, and I couldn’t hold back my surprise. “You’re so cute!” I exclaimed. “I love you so much.” This little baby was so precious. So perfect. Such a wonderful gift from God.

Michael accompanied little man up to the nursery, where they weighed (7 lb 14 oz) and measured (20.5 in) and took apgar scores. In the meantime, I was being stitched up. Our nurse Angie told me later that I was snoring as they fixed me up! I woke up in the recovery room with Angie by my side, monitoring my vitals. She told me I could go to our final room once I could move my feet. I was trying soooo hard, but it just wasn’t happening yet. Michael showed up and I asked him to bring in baby as soon as he could. He went back to the nursery and came back with our son. Finally, I got to spend some more time with this little guy who I had carried around for 9 months. What a miracle. It didn’t make sense to me how something so wonderful could happen to me.

Angie freaked out a little bit later as my blood pressure dropped significantly. I had to give up baby boy for a bit while she laid me back down to recover. After a little while of resting and focusing, my blood pressure was back to normal, and I was finally able to move my feet. We rolled over to our room where we’d be for the next few days and settled in. Michael and I ogled over our baby some more and I attempted feeding him for the first time. At 2:00am, after being awake for the majority of the previous 44 hours, we reluctantly released our son into the nursery and got some long-awaited and well-deserved sleep.

Two days later, after much thought, we named our little boy Asher Michael. “Asher” because we were so very happy and blessed - “How happy I am! The women will call me happy.” - Genesis 30:13. And “Michael” after his dad, meaning “Who is like the Lord”.