Conor's Birth Story

So it's a Sunday, and my parents took the boys for the weekend, and when Peter asked me how I wanted to spend the day, I just said I need space to just sit down and write about all that has happened these past two weeks. I need time and space to write about Conor's birth story, to feel the trauma and pain of it, to shed the tears, to feel the heavy sense of grief that it didn't quite go as I had hoped and the joy that he is alive! I need to fully lean into it and set it all free so it has no hold on me anymore.

And as I sit here trying to piece together just what happened two weeks ago, I'm realizing my memory is already blurry with the details of it all, with the trauma of it all. 

The truth is, I don't quite know where his birth story begins and ends? Does it begin with my intuition that something just wasn't right? Does it begin at Northwest with the ultrasound? Does it end as soon as they cut him out of my tummy? Does it end when I am discharged? Does it end when he's discharged? What's the end of this story going to be? 

And for the sake of length and time, it more or less begins with the ultrasound on Saturday and ends when I finally leave the hospital, but let's be real, I haven't really left the hospital because I'm there more or less every single day. 

And I am warning you now, it is long, very long. I considered breaking it into two parts but I couldn't bring myself to do that. 

I'm going to try my best to put myself back to two weeks ago when I had no idea just what awaited us as I attempt to relive the day and the hours leading up to Conor's arrival. 

This is Conor's birth story. 

***

Let's just start off by saying my name is Malia and I have high blood pressure. The Drs don't really understand why I have high blood pressure at my age, but it normally averages around 128/85 or something? It's never 120/80 or below, it always hovers above the normal numbers, and pregnancy really does wonders for it! So with all my babes the Drs watch me closely and at some stage in the pregnancy, they start me on blood pressure medication. With Jack they started me on medication super early on, like 16 weeks, and with Ryan I had a different Dr. and she started me on medication at like 30 weeks or something? 

Now remember, Jack was my c-section, premature, NICU stay baby I brought home from the hospital 20 days after he was born (Jack's birth story Part one and Part two) and Ryan was my v-bac, 38 week, full term baby I brought home from the hospital literally 24 hours after he was born (Ryan's birth story). So we were really hoping for a repeat of Ryan's birth story!

However, as we know, anything is possible, and just days before Conor's birth I sent my Dr. an email with some questions like how do I know I'm not experiencing real contractions, how do I know I'm not leaking fluid, how do I know he's okay if I don't feel him moving much? And she replied back, we'll know more in two days at his growth ultrasound and then we can take things from there. 

And looking back, my mama intuition was already kicking in. Something just felt different, or off? I have no idea. But I wasn't nearly as settled with this pregnancy as I was with the ones prior, even though my blood pressures at all my previous Drs appointments had been really good, fairly normal to be honest, and my Dr and I had even talked about the possibility of them being normal my entire pregnancy and carrying this baby to 40 weeks and not even being induced like I was with Ryan. 

And ironically when I picked Jack up from school on Thursday, April 12th, his teachers looked at me and said oh you are still pregnant! Jack was saying his baby brother had been born, and we thought, well isn't that really early? And I said yes, WAY TOO EARLY - hopefully we won't be meeting him for a few more months. 

You guys, I tell you, that Jack Emmet is so intuitive and God has used him in so many ways to speak truth and certainty into my life. Never underestimate the wise words that come out of the mouth of babes! You never know just who God might use to speak truth to you.

I never would have written this story for Conor's birth! However for some strange reason, I had held this pregnancy and this baby so loosely as I just felt like something was going to happen to him, and I wrote about these feelings just weeks prior to having him. Pregnancy after a loss is the strangest thing, and during my entire pregnancy with Conor, I was constantly reminded that this babe (and all my babes) belong to the Lord. They are His children first, He has created them and knit them together in my womb, and Peter and I have the privilege of raising them. But ultimately, He is the one writing their stories, and it's up to us as parents as to how we carry those stories out, how we tell them, how we retell them, how we use them to shape us and our perspective and the faith of our family.

Anyhow, all that to say, on Saturday, April 14th, I went into Northwest Hospital for a growth ultrasound, which is normal protocol for me and my babes at this stage in the pregnancy game as they just want to assess that they are growing appropriately. And since I have high blood pressure, they want to ensure that it's not compromising the growth of the baby. 

The appointment was at 1 pm. And it had been scheduled for weeks. And the ultrasound tech did all the usual measurements and he was measuring small, which I wasn't surprised by as all my babies measure small and they just are small. Jack was 4 lbs 2 oz at 33 weeks 6 days and Ryan was 5 lbs 11 oz at 38 weeks. 

But Conor was measuring really small. At his 20 week ultrasound he was in the 6th percentile, which I didn't realize until the ultrasound at 28 weeks when the tech informed us that his pattern of growth had decreased from the 6th percentile to the 1st percentile. And she checked the blood flow in his umbilical cord and there was reverse flow, meaning he was giving blood back to me, which isn't good because that impacts his growth. 

So she stepped out of the room to run her findings by the radiologist, and she came back in and said we're going to walk you over to the Childbirth Center and you're going to be admitted! I was like okay?? 

I figured they'd monitor the baby, check my blood pressure, etc., and send me home. Who knew what all it would entail, but never did I imagine that I'd be having this baby anytime soon! That thought hadn't even crossed my mind to be honest.

However, as soon as a Dr. walked in, one of the first things she mentioned was the need to transfer me by ambulance to UW as Northwest doesn't deliver babies at 28 weeks. I was like excuse me? Did you say deliver? Who said anything about having this baby today as I know I sure didn't! And the Dr. was like well it's a possibility, so just in case, we want you to be where you need to be. 

At this stage in the game, Conor's heart rate was great. However, it took them awhile before they checked my blood pressure. I kept saying, you need to check my blood pressure, you need to check my blood pressure, it feels really high. 

And they finally did. And my blood pressure was 171/110. 

My blood pressure has NEVER been that high, but I just knew something was off. I could feel that it was super high and never before have I experienced that. So they started me on an IV of magnesium, and they warned me about the side effects of it all. Peter reminded me that I'd had it before with Jack, and that it made me all loopy, but I don't remember any of this! Probably for the best right? And they may have given me a steroid shot at Northwest for Conor's lung development before they wheeled me away for my ambulance ride to UW.

And then I arrived at UW around 3:30/4, and I just remember thinking, sweet Jesus, not again. I never wanted to deliver here again, never ever - high intervention hospital, so many Drs. coming in and out, and I'll never remember all their names or where they're at in the totem pole, extra monitoring, so little sleep. I wanted to be back at Northwest hospital, delivering this baby with my Dr., and you better believe I told everyone I saw how I felt about it all! 

And I now think, forgive me Lord, I wasn't in a good place.  

And they continued to monitor me and Conor's heartbeat was great, and they said if he keeps looking this great with my blood pressures so high, then chances are good he won't be born today! Their hope was that they could get my blood pressures under control and his heartbeat would remain stable, and I'd be in the antepartum unit for 3.5 weeks until they induced me at 32 weeks! And I could possibly have this baby vaginally, but chances of another c-section were fairly high. 

So I wouldn't be going home until after this baby was born? I remember thinking, this always happens to me, I go in for a routine appointment only to be informed I won't be returning home until after the baby is born. I'm never expecting it, even though you'd think by now maybe I should start expecting it? I never have my hospital bag packed, I'm never fully emotionally, physically or spiritually prepared for that news to hit my heart. And yet, it's happened every single time. 

And I remember thinking, there's no way I can survive 3.5 weeks here. I barely lasted 6 days of baby monitoring and hospitalization with Jack, how in the world was I to do that for 3.5 weeks! And what about my boys? and Peter? And selfishly, I remember thinking, and what about all the events and things I'll miss? 

But all of this was very shortlived as they were having the hardest time getting my blood pressure under control. They kept giving me dose after dose of labetelol and my blood pressure was still really high. I remember asking them, at what stage do you worry about me as it seemed their biggest concern was Conor and his heartbeat. And they just said, there are alot of things we can give you to lower your blood pressure, we're just trying to figure out what's going to work.

And my blood pressure kept creeping up. And I was starving, I hadn't eaten since breakfast, but they didn't want to give me anything to eat and drink until they had sorted out my blood pressure. But they did give me ice chips! 

And then they gave me atenelol, another blood pressure medication that I've taken with my past pregnancies, and a little bit after that I got really hot and I was so uncomfortable and I just felt off. 

The medication had worked. My blood pressure dropped suddenly to like 100/60 or something. 

And then my heart rate dropped. 

And Conor's heart rate dropped, and then they couldn't find his heartbeat. They could only hear mine, and I informed them that I had an anterior placenta which made finding his heartbeat tricky in general. 

So they rolled in the ultrasound Doppler machine and had me get on all fours, and they were still having a hard time finding his heartbeat.

The energy in the room was so tense and the urgency for intervention could be felt so tangibly in the air. 

I knew just what awaited me. 

They said, we're taking you to the Operating room just to prep you. You could end up having an emergency c section if his heartbeat doesn't go back up. So they rolled me into the operating room, and I was still on all fours and just bawling. 

I couldn't believe this was happening, and Peter was once again just left in the room to wait. 

I remember laying there on the table, feeling like I was going to fall off, as they placed an oxygen mask on my face. 

And we waited. And waited to see if his heartbeat went up.

And it went up from 65 to 110, but it didn't go up from there.

I remember asking so many questions, they had to keep taking the oxygen mask off my face to understand me. How long till my husband knows? I've never had general anesthesia before, how does it all work? How long will this all take? When will I see my husband again?

I remember thinking, we could both die. Conor and I could both die, I may not wake up. What image will Peter be left with? 

Now THAT is an incredibly surreal feeling.

And I remember thinking, as they prepared for the c-section, how are they going to put me under so fast? I'm sure to feel them cutting into me at this pace! I counted down to five, and let it be known, I didn't feel anything! And that's surreal in and of itself, to think there is a period of my life that is simply unaccounted for.  

During this time, a Dr. had come in to inform Peter that Conor's heartbeat had gone up, but then 5 minutes later they came in with a bracelet and said congratulations Dad on your baby boy!! Peter said the whole thing took like 20 minutes.

So let it be known world that on Saturday, April 14th at 8:35 PM, our third son, Conor Christopher Drennan was born at 28 weeks and 4 days, weighing in at 1 lb 10 oz. They say he came into the world with the cord wrapped around his neck twice, but that he came out crying! His first Apgar score was a 3 and his second was an 8. 

And after it all happened, they took me to a recovery room while the anesthesia wore off, and I just remember Peter walking into the room. And I loudly declared, Conor Christopher, I want to name him Conor Christopher. Hope that's okay with you? If it's not, we can talk about it, but last night all I could think about was his middle name and how much I'd love to name him after my mom's brother who died way too young. So that's what we landed on.

He's feisty and a fighter the nurses say. I saw him the night I had him - they wheeled my bed into his room. 

But I wasn't able to see him the day after he was born as my blood pressures were still acting up and they didn't want to take me off the floor until they had those under control. And I think I was still on magnesium and who knows what else!! I felt and looked horrible and was thanking Jesus for the invention of catheters as the thought of getting up out of bed terrified me. And I couldn’t stop throwing up, think that had started the night before and continued on through the next day. And I was so hungry and so thirsty, but every single thing I put into my mouth I threw up just moments later. Yuck!

But I did get to see him the day after that. And Conor met his brothers for the first time that day! I had been envisioning and dreaming about this moment and this first meeting for months, and let's just say the reality looked so very different than what I had envisioned in my mind. Oh my heart. 

When I think back to that day two weeks ago, it's truly wild to think about how fast it all was, how so much happened in such little time. I mean I was at Northwest at 1 pm for an ultrasound, and I had him at 8:35 pm at UW.

In total, I spent five nights in the hospital and 6 days, and I actually ended up being diagnosed with HELLP Syndrome (Hemolysis, elevated liver enzymes, low platelet count) which is a serious complication of high blood pressure during pregnancy and let’s just say it’s very rare, fewer than 20,000 cases per year in the US, and I was one of the lucky 20,000. So basically the Drs were worried because my high blood pressure had impacted my liver. So they kept me a few extra days for extra lab work and to monitor my blood pressures. 

And the day before I was discharged they moved me to the post partum unit, which they probably should have done days before. And all I could hear were the babies crying, and my heart just broke as I hadn't heard the cries of my own babe just yet, and it was so hard to be there in that space and in that room with healthy babies surrounding me. And I just cried, and the round of Drs walked in and they asked how I was, and I just cried and cried as I told them through the tears how hard it was to hear the babies cry and how badly I wanted to go home and how I hadn't really processed all that had happened. And I cry now while I'm typing this as it was so hard, that week had been so hard, and being in that space felt so hard. And my heart felt so heavy. And I just cried for the story I had hoped to have while I leaned into the story I was currently living out. 

All that to say, I never would have envisioned this would be Conor’s birth story 28 weeks prior when I saw the positive pregnancy test for the first time, but it is. And I feel like I'm doing my own processing and my own grieving as I cling to the hope and the promises that God sees me. He knows my heart, He knows my pain, He knows my joy, and He's there holding it all for me, begging me to extend grace to myself, to remember Him, to remember who He is, to remember that Conor belongs to Him and He alone is writing His story.

Thank you Jesus for this little life and for his very unique birth story! May Conor bring honor and glory to you by the way he lives his life, and may we never cease to be amazed at the glorious way you have created and uniquely designed each of us. 

And may we look back on his early days in awe at how far this teeny tiny human has come as we're reminded of just how miraculous of a Creator you truly are! 

Jack's birth story Part one and Part two.

Ryan's birth story.