GRAYSON STUART MAXFIELD

GRAYSON STUART MAXFIELD

July 15, 9:30 am

9 lbs 1 oz, 20 in

I imagined the day Grayson would be born to be a stormy, summer day. Sure enough, on Saturday, July 14, the sky was gray and my water broke. Considering it was a whole week before he was actually due, it was good timing. I had finished working the day before and Stuart's recording sessions were also wrapping up.

It was about 8:30 am and after collecting myself and realizing what had just happened, I announced to Stu that indeed, my water had just broke. He literally jumped out of bed with a mix of fear and excitement.

I took a shower and we decided to get some breakfast because contractions hadn't yet set in. We took a walk and did our best to get things going. For weeks, I took classes to prepare for an unmedicated birth. I wanted very badly to have that experience of bringing baby into the world naturally, holding him skin-to-skin on my chest, and being part of the "miracle of life." In class I had learned I should stay at home as long as I could so as not to "start the clock" at the hospital. Contractions finally started around noon. My mom and sister came over and cleaned my house while I packed my bags. We labored around the house until about 3 pm. At that point, contractions started to feel more intense and I wanted to get comfortable at the hospital.

Once at the hospital I did my best to walk around, lean on Stuart for support, and breath through contractions like I had practiced. But they started to come on strong and frequent and I felt like I was losing the upper hand. It was much more intense and harder than expected. A friend had told me that once she got to the point that she wanted drugs, she was 9 cm dilated and realized she could make it to the end. I started to feel at that breaking point around 7 pm and asked to be checked - hoping to have made great progress. I was devastated to learn I was only 4 cm dilated.

I cried. I apologized to Stuart for letting him down and mostly letting myself down, but I could not imagine enduring that pain for another 7 or 8 hours. I gave in and asked for an epidural. I felt a bit defeated that I could not put into practice what I had prepared for. I wanted so badly to remain in control but I just couldn't stay on top of it. Needless to say, the epidural was lovely. Mine was weak enough that I could still move my legs and feel contractions, but it took the edge off the pain. In that way, I was glad because I felt like I was still getting some of that experience I had craved.

I progressed fairly steadily to 7 cm and that's where it all went south. I stalled at 7 cm for the next four hours. The doctors started me on pitocin to get things moving but the baby wasn't handling it well. My cervix was dilating unequally on one side so we tried to move around and labor in different positions. Again, baby's heart rate kept dropping with each contraction. That left me stuck laying on my left side with contractions that continued to slow down as the night went on. We began to get discouraged and tired. We labored this way all night. My mom, sister, mother-in-law, and Stuart stayed with me all night long. My Dad and brother-in-law waited outside all night long as we made very slow progress.

Finally, around 7 am, I reached 10 cm but baby hadn't dropped enough. When the doctor could finally feel his head, he learned baby was turned on his side. His face was looking at my hip and his shoulders were trying to come out perpendicular. Turns out, babies don't really fit that way. And that's when the words C-section started to get thrown around. I was heartbroken, tired, and worried about my baby. Knowing my original desire to have a "natural" birth, my doctor let me push under the condition I would be checked in 30 minutes to see if it was doing any good. After 30 minutes of pushing there was no change in baby's position. He gave me a final 30 minutes to push and still nothing. With each contraction, baby grew increasingly stressed.

Finally, around 9 am, after 20 hours of active labor, we called it. I would have a C-section and deep down, I knew it was the only way I would have a healthy baby. Being wheeled into the C-section was scary and stressful. It was an emergency situation at that point and within minutes I was strapped to a table and surrounded by curtains and doctors. Stuart was with me, doing his best to remain strong, but we were just both exhausted and neither of us could stop from crying.

They got the baby out just fine, but due to further complications during the c-section, I had to be put to sleep at the end. I saw the baby's arm and heard a little cry and then I don't remember anything. The next thing I know, I woke up in a quiet hospital room with a nurse wondering why I was in so much pain.

Minutes later, my mom and Stuart came into my room holding my baby. I cried. I cried because he was finally here. I cried because I was not there when he was born like I had hoped and dreamed. I cried because he was hungry and I felt like I had failed him. I cried because he was so perfect. It was just a mix of very strong emotions and just recalling it now, makes me cry.

He nursed right away for about 30 minutes - something I consider to be a tender mercy so we could bond the way I had originally wanted to. And after that, all our family came in and we celebrated little Grayson Stuart Maxfield. Grayson was wide-eyed and alert for several hours after birth. He didn't cry once. He was so calm. We all remarked that he seemed like an old soul and was sending us the message that everything was okay - he was finally here safe and sound.

As it turns out, after I was put to sleep following the C-section, Stuart followed the baby. He made sure he was okay and taken care of. He held him tight and close and didn't let anyone else touch him until I could. Stuart never expected to have to be the one to take care of the baby right after birth, but he did and he did so perfectly. He protected our little man and loved him the way we both wanted him to be loved. I am so grateful that he was there and so grateful that we had almost our entire immediate family there to welcome Grayson when I couldn't be there right away.

Looking back, I'm not sure why I would expect things to go any differently. Nothing about getting Grayson to earth has been easy. Nothing. After four long years, tens of thousands of dollars, pain, suffering, and heartache, our dreams came true on July 15 at 9:30 am. I don't know why it has been so hard but I do know that all of that struggle has made these moments with him so very precious.

If you ask me, infertility is a nonsense trial. It's not fair. It's not fun. It's so hard. For all my friends and family who struggle with this trial even now, and for all those who I do not know but might read this blog, my only message would be to never give up. Please never give up. There will be rough years and many tears, but they will pale in comparison to the moment that you hold your baby in your arms and let him/her know that you have worked so hard to get him/her here and that his/her presence on earth makes you feel complete.

We love Grayson so much. We just stare at him and laugh at his funny faces and grunt-y noises. We dream about what Olympic sport and what instrument he will play and how tall he is really going to be. We cuddle him and kiss him as much as we can and we don't regret one minute of that heartache, both during the infertile years and the 20 hours of labor. It was all worth it.

As my dad said, "Welcome to earth Grayson! You're going to love it here."