The Birth of Dallin Lawrence
By: Kevin (Dad)
The months and weeks leading up to Dallin’s birth were met with a lot of uncertainties for me. I was not sure how the whole going into labor thing would actually play out in real life. I had to try and remove all the pre conceived notions I had of the frantic rush to the hospital, busting through the hospital doors with my wife in a wheelchair, me screaming “We’re having a baby”, and my wife holding her stomach panting in a cold sweat. Missy had prepared for this event for the past year or more, so deep down I knew it would be nothing like it is on TV or in movies. I knew it would be much more controlled, relaxed, and pleasant then that.
Friday morning after I got ready for work Missy told me that she was having cramps. By the tone of her voice and her facial expressions, I read this to be the beginning of the birthing stages. I knew that that day of work would be my last for a while, so that did take some stress off the job, knowing some of my more difficult projects would have to be handed off to someone else while I was on leave. I waited all day for the text “The chicken has flown the coop”, but it never came. So at the end of the day, I was not as confident that the baby would arrive that weekend, and there was a slight chance I would be back at work on Monday.
So I came home, and for the first time noticed that Missy was really feeling the contractions for the first time, in that when she had them, she had to stop what she was doing and work her way through them. I found it odd that she decided to go to bed at 9:30, since she usually stays up later with me. Despite all these happenings, I figured Missy would just sleep through the night, and we would just pick up in the morning and see where we were at. I was up watching TV at around 11:00pm, and out came Missy, saying that she was woken up by a contraction. I thought that she would probably just come watch TV with me for a while, and then we would both go to bed after the contractions calmed down. Instead, they just kept coming, and coming, and were slowly but surely escalating hour by hour. By around 12:30 or so, it became clear that sleep was not going to happen for either of us.
By 3:00 am, the contractions were getting more intense, but Missy could still just work though them without much noticeable discomfort. We decided it best to text Kimberly, and just get an idea of what we should be doing, and what we should expect. She didn’t sound alarmed about the frequency of the contractions, but still volunteered to come over. Neither Missy nor I felt it was necessary to come in the middle of the night, but I thought it best that she come sometime during the morning. So I stayed up with Missy most of the night, making sure nothing happened beyond what we perceived to be normal. At 5am-8am I was kind of on and off, dozing off on the couch in a light sleep and then waking up. Around 8:00 a.m. my mom came and picked up Brenna and Brooke, which definitely took a load off of us, and allowed us to focus all of our energy on the task at hand.
Kimberly came over at around 9:30 a.m. She brought her suitcase full of doula things, and I thought that she was going to spend the whole day with us. After observing Missy’s contractions, she demonstrated putting counter pressure on her back while she was working through the contractions. You could see in Missy’s face the joy of feeling relief while Kimberly pressed with her fists on her lower back. I think it gave her a lot more confidence, and also gave Kimberly some instant credibility, and was a sure reminder of why were hired her. You could tell that Kimberly knew that the birth was not in the immediate future. She hung out while we played a hypnobabies script on the computer for about 45 minutes. I tried to sleep during that time, but never really could fall into a deep sleep. I was in a state where I wanted to sleep, but even the slightest stimulus would have brought to my feet, at full attention.
We conceded that Kimberly didn’t need to hang with us all day; we figured she had better things to do, so we told her it was ok if she left. We understood that when the contractions got closer together, and were more intense, we should fill up the pool and have her come back. So the day went on with me and Missy hanging out, watching TV, and putting pressure on her back during contractions. She would mainly stand, and lean with her hands again the wall, arms fully extended, swaying back and forth with a nice rhythm, saying “peace” and “open” quietly to herself. I stood behind her, with my balled up fists pressing against her back. We did that on and off for a few hours and also tried to rest when possible. I know I was able to rest a whole lot more than she did.
We had been in the house all day, and Missy wanted to go on a walk. It was like 110 degrees outside, and I had no desire to go, but we went anyways, and other then pointing out that it was hot, I didn’t give her any resistance or attitude about going, and did my best to be supportive. We did a lap around our neighborhood, and had to stop every 2 or 3 minutes so Missy could work with the contraction, while I put counter pressure on her back. It was so hot, especially while we stopped. Just sitting there baking. I thought that she had to be so uncomfortable, because if I was this miserable outside, imagine what she was going through. We finally made it back to the house.
Gradually, hour by hour, the contractions were coming more and more frequently, lasting longer, and getting more intense. We went over to my Mom’s house that night around 7 pm. Mainly so we could get out of the house, and to eat free food, and of course to see Brenna and Brooke. When we walked through the door and into the kitchen, we turned and saw the girls sitting on the floor coloring, or playing with toys. I just remember despite our enthusiastic greeting towards them, their response consisted of glancing up slightly, staring for a brief moment, and then looking back down to what they were doing. They figured we had come to tear them away from Grammy Shirley, and thus they were less than thrilled to see us.
We hung out there for an hour or two, ate some Barros pizza, and then left around 9. Missy’s contractions continued through the visit, getting stronger and stronger each time. We bid Brenna and Brooke farewell, and drove home my Mom’s Tahoe so she could have our van to transport the girls.
Once we got home, for the first time she started vocalizing her way through the pressure waves, letting out a noise that could be described as a low “aaahhhh” sound. That sent a clear signal to me that we had reached a point of no return, that something was happening, and it was happening soon. I would have been perfectly content with calling Kimberly the second we got home, and having her come and run the show. Missy however, was being stubborn, and seemed way too occupied with inconveniencing Kimberly, or that she would come over, see Missy wasn’t progressing, and then leave. This to me was ludicrous, because clearly things were escalating, and there was no way they were going to plateau, or decline. But I was not going to protest much. I asked a couple of times at what point we wanted to call Kim, and how close and how long her contractions needed to be before we called Kimberly. At this time I should have been filling the labor pool, but in retrospect, it never even crossed my mind at the time.
Missy took a shower, and I knew that I needed to start timing these contractions in order to prove the point that they were very close and action need to be taken soon. While in the shower missy would shout “time!” every time a contraction started and “over” when it ended. We did this for quite a while, and a noticeable pattern of shorter and shorter gaps between contractions, and the fact that they were longer in duration put up some major red flags that this was not a drill. So shortly after the shower and after texting Kimberly our stats, we asked her to come over, and she was on her way.
Once Kimberly confirmed that she was on her way, it finally dawned on me that filling the birthing pool needed to get done and fast. So now I had to try and think of the most effective way to fill this large inflatable pool in the middle of our dining room area. I got the hose from outside and started filling it, but came to realize this would produce cold, non soothing water. So I scratched that idea, and decided to start what we had discussed with Kimberly, which was use the hot water heater. I thought it made sense to hook up the tub’s hose directly up to the heater, since it had an end that screwed onto hose spouts, and couldn’t be used on our sink. So I was filling it up for about 10 minutes, and between the outside hose and the inside hose it was filled up about 25% of way.
I started seeing some floating grass and other little pieces of gunk along the surface, and I tried to scoop them out. Then Missy pointed out that there was some sentiment along the bottom, and then I noticed it, and was not pleased. There was enough to make it so sitting in the tub would be like sitting on the beach, so I had to dump it out and start again. Now this thing was super heavy, and I couldn’t lift it high enough to pour it out the backdoor. I had no clue what the “proper” way of draining it was, so I just had to improvise. So I got some pots and started scooping out water and pouring it out in the back yard. Eventually I was able to get enough water out to where I could lift the whole thing up and dump it out.
So now that I no longer trusted the hot water heater, the only thing left was the bathroom sink. Now the sink was a less the ideal choice, because you had to stand there and hold it in order for the water to get into the hose and into the pool. Right around the time I started this method Kimberly showed up. She had to ring the doorbell because nobody could hear her knocking. I answered the door and let her in, and she immediately leaped into action, putting counter pressure on Missy’s back. Feeling much more at ease that Missy was being tended to, I went back to the task at hand of filling the tub. It was painstakingly slow. I had to stand there and hold the nozzle up to the spout for like 20 minutes or so. I grabbed my iPod so I had something to occupy my mind during this time.
After about 10 minutes I came out to find that Missy had already gotten in the pool, despite the fact that there were only a couple inches of water, and Kimberly was sitting next to her doing the counter pressure. I went back in and commenced filling up the tub. I came out every few minutes to monitor the progress. I noticed that Kimberly had started filling up pots in the kitchen sink and dumping them into the pool. Despite all this it was not even half way full. Eventually I noticed the water was no longer hot, and I decided that it was time to just call it good and I could finally go sit by my wife at this important time.
Missy was draped across the side of the labor pool, facing the back door. She was relaxing with her eyes closed, almost like she was asleep. She looked so peaceful, like an angel. This serenity was short lived, however, because she started to tense up, vocalized a low “aaahhh” sound, and then experienced a very intense contraction that lasted about a minute give or take. Then as it subsided she slowly eased back into her comfortable position. This process repeated itself over and over. I sat next to her in a chair, lightly touching her hand with mine. I was kind of torn about what I should be doing at this point.
I got up and turned on a hypnobabies script from the computer. I felt that she invested so much time and energy into learning and practicing hypnobabies, that maybe she wanted to actually use it, since this was the exact moment we had been anticipating for months now. I also decided it was a good time to use the cue that we had been working on every other night, with me putting my hand on her forehead, and then on her shoulder, and saying “release” as she exhaled. So I did this a couple times. I was not sure it this was doing anything for her, because she was very focused, and wasn’t in a position to provide me any feedback as to whether I was doing it right.
After sitting next to her for a few more minutes, I started getting antsy, knowing that this baby could literally come at any time, and I was a tad confused that neither Missy nor Kimberly seemed to being showing any urgency about getting up and going to the hospital. So I had to get up and start doing something. Earlier, I had noticed that Kimberly had heated a pot of water, and it was still sitting on the stove. I thought there was no point in just letting it sit there and cool, so I went to grab it with the intention to pour it into the pool. For some reason I did not see that the little light above the stove was lit, indicating that the burners were set to the on position, and that the pot of water was near boiling hot. So I nonchalantly started dumping the water in, with no effort made to be careful in any way. As I tipped the pot to pour out the water, I felt lots of pain as scolding hot water went all over my hand. I realized at this point what was going on, and set the pot down at the edge of the pool, only to have Kimberly alert me that it would melt the plastic, and to lift it up. So I poured the rest out quickly, trying not to have it directly contact Missy. Then I immediately went to grab an ice pack out the freezer. I was sure that I had badly burned my hand, and that it would blister, and be a hindrance for me the whole night.
At this point I knew it was go time, whether Missy liked it or not. I went in the closet of our room, and spoke to the video camera for about a minute. Then I grabbed the keys, and started to gather everything that was on the kitchen table that Missy had placed there in preparation to depart to the hospital. I scanned the list hanging on our bookshelf to make sure there was nothing I was missing. Then I started grabbing all the pillows, sheets and blankets I could find in order to create a little nest for Missy in the back of the Tahoe. Once I had the car all packed, it was time to load the most important cargo, the pregnant lady.
At this time Missy was still in the tub. During the process of loading I made a comment or two to Kimberly that we should go as soon as possible. So when I approached the tub, I think she knew that I was ready to go. I knew it would so hard for Missy to get out of the tub…but it had to be done. I started to help her up, and she was not happy. I could tell she was taken out of her comfort zone. I knew we probably shouldn’t head for the hospital with her in a wet swimsuit, so I attempted to disrobe her in order to put on her dress and some pants or underwear or something. We had her dress handy, but I didn’t know what else to put on her. I ran into the bedroom, and started rummaging through her drawer like a thief looking for valuables. I was feeling a lot of adrenaline, because I heard something about having to push come out of Missy’s mouth. I found one pair of red bottoms, and figured they would suffice. So I ran back into the living room, and tried to put them around her wet legs. Not a good idea. They told me to scratch that plan, and we would just go commando. In retrospect, I am not sure what I was thinking, because there was a real chance that this baby could start poking out in route to the hospital, so why would she want to be wearing anything under her dress?
So we eventually got into the car. I asked Kimberly to ride with us so she could keep an eye on Missy, and for peace of mind of some kind. On the way there she called the hospital, and made sure the midwife on call would be there. I was not sure how I should drive. The last thing I wanted to happen was to have an accident, or get pulled over, but at the same time, it was about 1:45 am, and nobody was on the road. So as I pulled up to a red light at Rural and the US 60. I came to a complete stop, looked around, and hit the gas to run the light. I had a bit of a lead foot, which caused Missy to most likely flop around the back area, and for her to scream at me. I felt pretty dumb for that, I am not sure why I hit the gas so hard, I guess I figured since I was committing a criminal act I had to do it fast. Again, in retrospect, not sure what I was thinking.
Once we got on the freeway it was a pretty smooth ride. I called my mom to give her the heads up that it was go time, and Kimberly called the hospital so the mid wife on call could meet us there. Missy was surprisingly quiet throughout the ride, which made me worried that she passed out or something. Once we arrived at the hospital, we navigated our way to the emergency room entrance. We unfortunately were not able to go directly into the labor and delivery area because it was after hours. So we pulled up, opened the back doors, and every so gently attempted to get Missy out of back seat. I felt so bad for her, just having to lift herself out the car and then walk through the doors, I did feel rather helpless. Kimberly walked in with her, and I had to go park the car.
Once the car was parked, I tried to gather up all the stuff I we had brought for the hospital. All the bags, the car seat, the camera bag, everything. It was a lot of stuff and it was heavy. I had it all and I ran through the doors. I noticed to my left an area with some people waiting, and then behind the counter, on the other side of the glass was Missy and Kimberly. I could hear Missy’s sweet hum, and I told them I was the dad and needed to get back there. They let me through to the back, and I dropped my stuff on a chair so I could assess the situation. I was pretty torn about how I should be acting. I sensed a strange lack of urgency from the hospital staff. In my mind, I thought that once Missy came in, that the ladies up front would spring to action, prepare a wheelchair, and quickly get Missy to her room and get down to business. In reality, they acted as if she came in with a hangnail or something. They were very ho hum, casually asking Missy stupid questions, and I was not sure what was going on.
I asked them what the deal was, what are we waiting for, what was the next step? I was told a nurse was going to escort us to the labor and delivery part of the building. I was not sure if I should start acting aggravated, and get vocal about how we need some action and we need it now! If I should really come out of my shell and let these ladies know the baby is coming and we don’t have time for this standard procedure nonsense. Clearly Missy was being loud, was in intense labor, and was pushing a baby out for crying out loud! I knew that throwing a fit would only make things worse, and wouldn’t speed things up, so I just kind of jumped back and forth, and waited while they got our insurance stuff, and Missy leaned on a chair in labor.
Finally the lady we were waiting for came, all the insurance garbage was done, and we were off. Missy declined the wheelchair, and elected to walk. I understood why she didn’t want to sit, but at the same time knew that as a result we would have a very long journey to our room. Slowly but steadily we made our way up the elevator, through the doors, and down the halls, with Missy pausing every minute or two to lean against a wall and do her thing. We were being accompanied by another pregnant woman, and at the time I had no clue who she was or why she was walking with us at that hour. I was really nervous during this stretch. To me it seemed that baby could just bungee jump out of her any second and so getting us to a room where she could put all her mental and physical towards laboring was all that I could think about.
After what seemed like a 10 mile trek through the hospital corridors, we finally were led into the triage area. I had visited there a week or earlier with Missy, so I sort of knew the surroundings, but overall I was in the passenger seat of this ride. The midwife that Missy really wanted to attend the birth was Lylaine, and she was waiting for us as we entered. They took her to a small room where she checked to see how dilated Missy was. She said that she was fully dilated, which to me meant that Dallin was a couple big pushes away from coming out. They put her on a gurney and took her into a much larger room, and helped her onto the bed.
At this point, I figured I would get to hold my son within a few minutes. I thought we were so lucky that we had barely made to the hospital room moments before the big moment. I was definitely wrong about that. However, I got to experience at this time something I will never forget. For 90 straight minutes, I witnessed my amazing wife exert every single ounce of energy she could muster, over and over again, pushing , and pushing, and pushing. She was not using any kind of intervention, just the strength that God gave her, trusting in herself and her body to do what it was made to do. I spent a moment at first trying to coordinate the video camera and the regular camera to make sure we didn’t miss out on documenting this time, but eventually I lost myself in an effort to really become one with Missy, to involve myself in her laboring. I grunted, and bore down, tensed up, as she did with each pressure wave. I breathed with her, and cheered her on the whole time. I kept trying to re assure her, help her understand that she was doing great, and that I could not be more proud of her. To this day, and for the rest of my life I will be in awe of how incredibly strong and brave she was, and I love her for it with all my heart.
By now Missy was completely and utterly exhausted, but she still had work to do. Dallin’s head was coming out, but he just needed one final push. She put forth everything she had left into it, and she let out a loud scream, and I looked down, and watched Dallin’s head slide out very quickly, and I grabbed him underneath his armpits, pulled him out, and set him on Missy’s chest. Dallin was born.
It was 4:05 a.m., Sunday, September 12th . It seemed that all the pain and intensity of child birth was instantly forgotten, and now was the reward. He was absolutely perfect. He cried just for a moment, and then just looked up at his mom. He was clean, alert, and healthy. I could not have dreamed of this experience being any better then it was. I felt so grateful, and overjoyed, and full of emotion and love. The hospital staff was great too; they just let Missy hold him for the longest time, and didn’t even weigh him until about 3 hours after he was born. Eventually I got to hold my son for the first time. He was so small and cute. I still was just in awe of how perfect he was. It truly was a special day.
