Happy Birthday Garrett!

Garrett is officially one year old today! I have been reflecting all day about what has happening a year ago at this time and it's amazing to me how much our lives have changed over the past year. Having Garrett in our family has been a bigger blessing than we ever could have imagined. He has brought much love and laughter into our lives and we are so grateful for him.

I stole this idea from my sister--here's one of my favorite snapshots of Garrett from each month of his little life.

I have yet to take the time to record the story of Garrett's birth, so I am going to attempt to write out as much of it as I can. WARNING: this is really long!

This is really two stories merged into one: Greg's influenza and Garrett's birth. It's impossible for me to separate the two. It all started at about 2 AM on the morning of Tuesday, March 4, 2008. I woke up to find Greg shivering violently in bed. He said, "I think I'm getting sick." We got him some more blankets and I fell back asleep. Garrett was due on Thursday, March 13--just over a week away and I was definitely exhausted. We woke up the next morning and Greg wasn't feeling great but decided he could go to work. We both took off for the day and Greg called me around lunchtime to say he really wasn't feeling well and was going home to rest. I just figured it was a cold and didn't think much of it. I got home from work about 4 and came in to find Greg in bed. I thought he had been shivering violently the night before, but it had nothing on the way he was shaking now. I felt his head and was shocked at how hot he was. I grabbed the thermometer and took his temperature--I about died when it was 104.3 degrees! I half-carried him to the car and took off for Instacare. We got to Instacare and the parking lot was packed, so I told Greg to wait in the car while I got him checked him. I went in to find standing room only and a 2 hour wait time. I was standing in line to check him in when he swaggered through the door. He could barely stand and some people moved so he could sit down. I compared the way he looked with the way the others in there were looking and decided he might be more sick than I had originally thought. I called the ER and found they had a less than 10 minute wait. I debated for about 10 seconds--our ER co-pay was about $50 more--and then told Greg to get in the car and we were off again. They took us right back when we got to the ER and Greg collapsed on the bed. He was moaning and complaining that his whole body ached and he had never been in so much pain. They started an IV and began filling him with fluids and pain medications. He finally calmed down and the doctor came in and said he guessed Greg had the influenza. They did a test--which came back negative--but the doctor said it seemed like a textbook case of influenza. He asked me when our baby was due and when I said, "Next Thursday," he gave me the most pathetic look and said he was really sorry. He said the influenza usually lasts about 10 days, so there was definitely a chance Greg would be better in time. He said, "I usually don't say this, but I hope you go way overdue."

It was after midnight when we left the hospital and I finally got Greg home and into bed. The night was awful--Greg spent most of the night moaning and I spent it getting Greg medicine and trying to help ease his pain. I couldn't believe it when my alarm rang at 6:00 AM. Greg was still moaning in bed with a high fever, and I didn't know what to do. I only had a limited number of days off which I was saving for my maternity leave. I felt awful leaving for school that morning with Greg so sick, but really didn't know what else to do. I called him between every class and he sounded awful. Not only was he in severe pain from head to toe, but he had started throwing up as well. I hurried home as soon as school was out and spent the rest of the night trying uselessly to get him to eat something. He wouldn't eat anything and kept throwing up his pain medicine, so it was another awful night. He told me he would be okay, so I went to school again the next day (Thursday). When I talked to him after school, he said he was really hungry (he hadn't eaten anything since the previous day) and thought he could eat some fruit. I ran to the grocery store and seriously bought one of everything in their fruit section, just hoping we would find something that worked. I also stopped and got two huge fruit smoothies and prayed that he would be able to keep something down. I was on my way home when Greg called and told me to hurry home, that he was starting to feel really awful. I cruised home and left all the precious fruit in the car and waddled (remember I'm 9 months pregnant) in as fast as I could (which wasn't very fast).

I heard him wailing as soon as I walked in the door and knew something was really wrong. I found him kneeling by the side of our bed, sobbing and totally delirious. I felt his head and knew his fever had spiked again and it was high. My dad was on his way home from work and I called him to see if he could stop by and give Greg a blessing. He could hear Greg in the background and told me he thought I better just get Greg back to the hospital immediately. By some miracle, I got Greg in the car and back we went to the ER. I was trying to get him checked him and he was totally slumped over in the chair, so they just took him right back and got him a bed. The next few hours were torture--Greg was in so much pain (he said even his eyeballs and hair hurt) and nothing they did seemed to help. They kept injecting him with morphine, but it didn't seem to phase him. We saw the same doctor we had seen just a few days before, and he was really worried. He told me he needed to talk to me and took me out in the hall. He said that he was sure on Tuesday that Greg had the influenza, but now he didn't know. He told me they had found some high levels of inflammation in Greg's blood and were concerned that he could have either a brain infection, spinal meningitis, or another disesase of the Central Nervous System. I will never forget the look on his face when he looked at my obviously pregnant belly and said, "I'm so sorry."

My dad and brother Brian arrived just before Greg left for a CT scan. They asked the doctor if he had time for a blessing and the doctor said, "I would really like it you would give him one." I think he knew Greg needed more help than he could give him. They gave him a quick blessing and he left for his scan. I know we had some other visitors during this time--I know my Aunt Paula came and I think maybe my sister and my brother--but it's all such a blur. I was so tired! Greg got back from the scan and the doctor said they needed to do a spinal tap. Greg HATES needles and under normal circumstances probably would have been a total pain in the tail, but he didn't even protest. I'm sure we were a pathetic sight--Greg was sitting on the bed leaning into me with his head on my stomach and my arms around him. They were unable to get fluid and had to do the spinal tap three times before it finally worked. I was watching anxiously and the doctor was visibly relieved when the fluid came out clear. (He said it's a bad sign if it comes out cloudy or bloody). Greg was finally able to lay back down while they waited for the results of the scan and the spinal tap. Greg held my hand and said, "Nat, if I don't make it, will you name the baby after me?" I was fighting tears and kept trying to reassure Greg that he was going to make it and we were going to be just fine and everything would be okay. The pain was coming on again and Greg started wailing and moaning again. The nurses came in and gave him a shot of dilaudid and within seconds he calmed down and was resting. My dad asked the nurses what kind of medicine that was and if we could get some to take home for Greg. The nurse chuckled and said, "We don't give prescriptions for that. That's the equivalent of about 10 doses of morphine." The doctor came back in and the scan and spinal tap came back okay, and he didn't really know what else to do. He was debating keeping Greg overnight, but just didn't know if he could justify it for our insurance. He wanted to monitor Greg for awhile and then decide. Finally, at about 1:00 AM, Greg was stabilizing and he decided to send us home. I remember sitting there thinking, "What am I going to do with him?" I wanted to beg the doctor to keep him overnight and take care of him, but I knew I had to take him home. I couldn't go faster than about 15 MPH or Greg's pain would intensify. He would wail every time we hit a bump in the road. It took us about 45 minutes to make it home from the hospital. My dad helped me get Greg in and settled. It was about 3 AM when I sat down to type an email to my principal and Greg's boss telling them what was going on and that neither of us would be coming to work the next day. Thankfully, I had a student teacher, so I didn't have to worry about writing sub plans.

The next two days (Friday and Saturday) were kind of a blur. Greg wasn't getting any better, but didn't seem to be getting any worse. Those days followed a routine: rest, get Greg medicine, try to get him to eat something (which he always refused), rest, get Greg medicine, try uselessly to get him to eat. I don't remember much about those days--just that I was really tired and really worried. We had lots of people calling and stopping by to check on us, but there wasn't really anything anyone could do.

Garrett was due the next Thursday, but I kept telling myself that he was our first baby and I would likely go over. My original due date was March 19, but they had moved it up after an ultrasound. I had always thought it was more likely the later due date, so I figured I had at least a week and a half or two weeks until he would come. My sister, Emily, was blessing her baby, Gracie, on Sunday. I called Emily on Saturday night and told her I planned to come to the blessing and just leave right after. I remember laying in bed Saturday night and just before I fell asleep thinking that the baby felt really low and seemed to have dropped. Greg woke up moaning at about 6:00 AM Sunday morning and I rolled over and stood up to get him some pain medication. I felt a little rush of fluid--not a gush--but definitely fluid. I turned to Greg and said, "I think my water just broke." His eyes got really wide and he sat straight up in bed, and then put his head in his hands and moaned and laid back down. I realized he was going to be no help and told him I would call my mom.

I went into the bathroom and called my mom and told her I thought my water had just broke. She said, "You have got to be kidding me." I said, "Do you think I would call you joking at 6:00 on a Sunday morning?" She told me to call the hospital and see what they said and then call her back. I called the hospital and the nurse told me a few things to do and then to call back. I waited awhile and then talked to the nurse. She told me I better come in and get checked. I called my mom and told her we better go. I wasn't having any contractions and still needed to finish packing my bag for the hospital, so I told her to take her time getting ready and then come. My dad was at early meetings at the Stake Center, so my mom left him a quick note and told him she was taking me to the hospital and she would maybe see him at the blessing.

I called Emily on the way to the hospital and told her what was going on and that I was so sorry it was happening on Gracie's blessing day. She laughed and told me to keep her posted. We got to the hospital and my mom got me checked in. I had done my hair in two braids and was just wearing my sweats and a t-shirt and looked about 15. The nurses were looking at me kind of funny and it occurred to me that they probably thought I was an unwed teenager. I laughed and told them I was 25 (almost 26) and married and my husband was sick. They were kind of embarrassed. It was funny.

They tested the fluid and sure enough, my water had broke! I was only dilated to about a one, so they told me it would be awhile, but I was staying. I told my mom to go to the blessing and I would be just fine until she got back. I called Greg's mom and told her what was going on and asked her if she could come and take care of Greg. My mom's friend Vicki called and we chatted for about 45 minutes. I was not having any contractions or feeling any pain when my mom got back from the blessing. They decided to put me on Pitocin to hopefully get things rolling along. I started having a few contractions--uncomfortable, but not unbearable--when my mom reminded me I could get my epidural whenever I wanted it. Because it was Sunday, it took about a half hour for the anesthesiologist to get there and contractions were starting to get painful. It wasn't awful, but I was relieved when they finally got the epidural in after two tries.

The next few hours seemed to go by quickly. I had phone calls and visitors and it definitely helped pass the time. My mom sat in the corner of the room the whole time with her laptop typing sub plans. At about 4:00, the nurse told me I would start pushing in about an hour if I wanted to let my husband know. I called Greg and he said his family would bring him over. I was so excited for him to get there and had fooled myself into believing that he would be okay and Garrett's birth would go exactly as we had planned. When Greg walked in the room, I took one look at him and realized he was going to be no help. He went over to the couch and laid down and didn't get up again until after Garrett was born. The nurse said it was time to start pushing and my sister, Emily, was in there with me. She asked me if I wanted her to stay and help me. I've never been so relieved in my whole life. My mom was in there and I asked the nurse if Greg's mom could come and sit with him. We hadn't really planned on having that many people in there, but they were all a huge help and I'm so glad they were all there.

It was about 5:00 PM when I started pushing. Emily told me she had pushed for 5 minutes with Brooklyn and ten with Gracie, so I figured it would be the same with me. HA! In my dreams! Apparently, I'm not that great of a pusher, because it took two agonizing hours to get him here. It's weird, because it doesn't seem that bad to me now, but I know it was awful at the time. He kept getting stuck and would then would break through and slide back. Emily was amazing through all of this--I really don't think I would have made it without her! She was calm and confident and exactly what I needed. My mom watched anxiously and Greg laid on the couch with his head in mom's lap while he held her hand. My dad and Greg's dad stood at the door and watched the nurses to see what was going on. Garrett's heartrate was dropping after so long, so they put an oxygen mask on me for about the last 45 minutes. The doctor finally came in and told me we were getting close. (Dr. Horsley, my doctor, was sick, so Dr. Strebel took care of me. He was great!) He told me I just needed a few more good pushes. I wasn't sure I had it in me, but Emily told me I could do it, and before I knew it, Garrett was finally here!

The doctor said, "You've got a blondie," and I asked if he was really a boy. Greg stood up for just a second and walked over to check him out and then collapsed on the couch. Garrett cried for just a second and then was quiet while they were cleaning him. I kept asking if he was okay and the nurse listened to his lungs and said he sounded great, but was just mellow. They cleaned him up and the nurse said, "His hair isn't blonde, it's red!" Finally, they handed him to me and I got to hold my little boy for the first time. Greg was still laying on the couch with a rag over his eyes, so it wasn't exactly how we had planned it, but it was still wonderful to finally have him here.

We had a large group of family in the waiting room and they came in three at a time to see Garrett and congratulate us. It meant so much to us that so many people loved our baby!

They took me up to my room and took Garrett to the nursery to give him a bath. Greg was fading fast, so his parents took him back to our house. We had always hoped Greg would be able to give him his first bath, but he just wasn't up to it. Thankfully, we knew one of the nurse's aides who was working in the nursery, so she let my parents in to help with the bath and take pictures.

It may sound crazy, but I thoroughly enjoyed my stay in the hospital--I even thought the food was great! The nurses were wonderful and took such great care of me. My aunt Paula offered to stay with me and we had so much fun with our new little Garrett. We had lots of visitors and enjoyed taking turns holding Garrett. My mom took the whole week off of work and stayed home to take care of Greg. He called her the "Nazi Nurse." :) She made him take all of his medicine and made him eat. I called from the hospital to check on him and she said she was spoonfeeding him pudding. Paula and I about died laughing! We left the hospital Tuesday evening and stayed with my parents for a few days. Greg was still not well and I didn't know I could take care of myself, Greg, and Garrett. We will never be able to thank our families for the help they were to us during this crazy times!

Greg had not been feeling well enough to come back to the hospital, so he was determined he was going to meet us at the door and carry Garrett in. I couldn't believe it when I saw him--he had lost about 25 pounds in a week and was so pale--but he did bring Garrett in. It about did him in and he had to go straight to bed after that. He didn't hold Garrett until Wednesday morning. He put on a mask and washed up and finally got to really meet his little guy. It was really sweet to see the two of them together.

It took Greg several weeks to finally regain his full strength and get back to his old self. It's amazing to look back and think about how sick he really was. Sometimes I still can't believe Garrett was born in the middle of all of it, but it all worked out okay--thanks to much help! We are so glad we survived and enjoyed an awesome first year with our little man. We are looking forward to many, many more!