You're heee-eerreee!!! You made it out into the world and we couldn't be more happy!!!
On Friday morning, I woke up about 1 a.m. with contractions. Again. Oh my, how I was getting tired of these "fake" contractions. Would you just make your appearance already??
By 4:30, these contractions were anywhere from 7-10 minutes, but they were excrutiating. Seriously, these were fake?? I knew that I "couldn't call" the OB/hospital until they were 5 minutes apart, but just when they would get down to 7, they would take a 15 minute break and then a 20 minute break, then they'd be back down to ten.
But they would last FOR-E-VER. I became so frustrated I crawled out of bed at 4:30 and started up the shower. I had read somewhere that a warm shower/bath would help to alleviate my contractions and possibly make them go away altogether. If they were fake...
And so, crying, I ran the shower and woke up your dad. He asked me what I was doing and upon my answering, could tell I was crying. So he came into the bathroom with me to sit out my frustrations and hopefully help me through some of these contractions and in time, see them go away.
I must have looked pathetic sitting in the shower, on a towel b/c I couldn't keep myself upright. Crying because I was so tired and frustrated and in so much pain. Once I got out, I crawled back into bed. Miserably, I crawled back into bed. I was done with being pregnant.
Somehow, I got to sleep for a few minutes (definitely no more than an hour) and laid in bed until 11:00 a.m. By that time, the contractions were no more than 10 minutes apart, but the pain factor had been ramped up and beyond that, they were lasting more than 3 minutes. I was crying out in pain, and your dad came in just as the first part of the contraction was at it's peak. Yes, first contraction...
I told him he needed to call someone, I couldn't take this anymore. He asked me who and I yelled at him, "THE HOSPITAL!" So he called and simply said, "Hi. My wife is in excrutiating pain." He then told them how far along I was and they told us to come in. Thinking, hoping, praying they were going to keep us, I had him pack everything up while I laid in bed, enduring wave after wave of pain.
We got to the hospital about 12:00 (noon) and I was still in tears. I had not showered for a day and a half, I had been crying for since almost 1:00 a.m., and I was wearing my pajamas. We got to the front desk and I told them who I was and why I was coming in. Through the tears, I told them that I knew the magic number as 5, but I had been having contractions about 10 minutes apart and lasting for what seemed like forever.
They took me into triage and the nurse checked me. I was 5-6 cm dilated. Holy crap! I thought. Then I was ecstatic. They had to keep me at 5-6 cm dilated. I felt like I was being watched to make sure these horrible contractions were actually lasting, but the nurse couldn't pick them up. I only had one "horrible" contraction while waiting in triage and that was enough for the nurse. She came back in and said:
"Ok, we have a room for you! Looks like you're going to have a baby today!"
Oh my god, we were going to have a Baby. Not just a baby, but a Baby. With a capital B. B for "responsiBle for another human life."
But I didn't have much time to think about it as I was hurried down the hallway.I was asked beforehand if I had wanted an epidural. I said ABSOLUTELY. I wasn't about to push a watermelon through my kiwi with no drugs!
On our way down the hallway to our end "suite" I had another contraction. Nurse Vanessa was so sweet and said, "We can stop if you need to," and true to form in the time of crisis, your dear old mom said, "Nope. Just gotta. power. throughit." And power through it, I did. We got to the room and I asked the nurse if I could possibly take a shower. I didn't want to power through a birth and then not have any energy to take a shower, only to be skanky for a couple more days. No thanks.
And so my adventure into motherhood truly began. I got my IV, the epidural was in place, the dr. broke my bag of water and in less than 4 hours, I went from almost 6 cm dilated to 10 cm dilated.
Your Grandma Terri got there right at 5:00, which was right before I was about to start pushing. She said hello, then went to the waiting room, hoping not to have to wait too long, I'm sure!
So at about 5:35 p.m., I started pushing. And I worked hard. But your daddy worked equally as hard. He held my leg, held my back, and rooted me on. True to form, your daddy's encouragement, tough love and support got me through one of the biggest moments of my life. I truly think that sometimes he was put in my "path" because I needed someone like that.
I didn't dare open my eyes, and I kept being asked if I wanted a mirror. Are you kidding? Of course I didn't want a mirror!!! Why on earth would I want to see that? Out of sight, out of mind. So I concentrated on pushing. I told the nurses when I needed to push. I pushed as hard has I could and apparently became very vocal. I pushed and pushed and pushed. But you helped because it was very apparent you were ready to come out into the world.
Your head began to "break through" shall we say, and I remember distinctly telling the nurses to just grab it. One of the nurses said, "There's nothing to grab onto, honey." Well FIND SOMETHING! I remember thinking to myself.
At another point, there was a shift change and doctor who broke my water was not the doctor who was going to be delivering me. They couldn't find Dr. Bellaire, and I was on the verge of pushing the head out. I remember the nurses making me breathe through a couple contractions - not because they were painful, but because the urge to push was overpowering. So I breathed through them. I centered myself and made sure to not push.
Finally, the doctor made her appearance, and had to put on her scrubs. I began to tell the nurses that I had to push, and the doctor said, "Just wait! I have to put my scrubs on!" I remember answering, "Well HURRY UP!" I apologized for that later... but seriously, you didn't have your scrubs on upon walking into a birth?
So there it was - all sorts of people were in the room, but I was in the zone. And I pushed without taking a break - once, twice, three times. I remember twirling my finger in the air, signaling I was going to push again, and I did, a fourth time. And all of a sudden, one of the nurses said, "Open your eyes!"
So I did. And there you were. Sliding out and into the doctors arms. I had told the nurses that I wanted you put on my chest immediately, and your daddy wanted to cut the cord. Neither of those things happened. Instead, you were whisked to the table, where the nurses began rubbing you down. You weren't crying. Why weren't you crying??
Your dad bent down and I could tell her was on the verge of tears as he said some lovely thing to me that to this day, I will probably never remember. I just remember he was so excited, overcome with emotion and so obviously proud of me. It was a lovely, lovely moment. I finally asked him to go check on you as I had finally heard you cry, but I knew that there was a reason you didn't get to cut the cord and a reason why they didn't put you on my chest.
You had your umbilical cord wrapped around you neck, causing the doctor to cut it as soon as she saw it. Because of that, in combination with the fact you didn't cry right away, they needed to put you on the table to make sure you were ok.
And you were. Not just ok, but you were perfect. I asked your dad to go check on you and make sure you were all right, and a nurse answered that you were. But he's your daddy. And I needed to know from your daddy, not some stranger who had been holding my legs back.
There you were, all 8 pounds, 14.5 ounces, and 21 inches of you. I can't believe you were almost 9 pounds! It was incredible and YOU were incredible! My life changed, officially for the better, at 6:38 p.m. on May 11, 2012. Your dad went over and videotaped your weight and there you were. They wrapped you up and you came over and they put you on my chest. And you were beautiful! PERFECT!
After that, it's all a blur. Lots of friends came to see us in the hospital. Grandma Mary is absolutely smitten with you. Your dad is over the moon for you. I am in complete love with you. Grandma Terri thinks you're beautiful and I know Grandpa Tom had something to do with how perfect, sweet and innocent you are.
Everyone says that you don't know love until you have a child. I always thought it was a feeling, but now, I realize it's something bigger than yourself. Something incredibly beautiful and now, I know.
I love you, James Thomas. I am so incredibly fortunate. You are so perfect. Perfect.
Fast forward to the homecoming and beyond:
Since then, it's been amazing. We came home yesterday and it was fun to take our first car ride with you. We were so careful, it's so funny! You're not going to break, but we just want the best for you. The absolute best. I love you. Love love love you!
Last night, your daddy, who has been incredibly confident up until this point, had a bit of a freak out. And somehow, we totally switched roles, and I was the one who ended up calming him down. For some reason, the nurse made mention at the hospital that sometimes, newborns have phlegm and other things that might get "stuck" in their throat, and because you're still learning your swallowing reflex, you might have a hard time actually swallowing. This might cause you to stop breathing and if that happens, we just need to put you in an uncomfortable position with your head lower than your body and rub you vigorously to make you cry. That will keep you breathing.
Oh lordy. So last night, your dad swore you had a booger in your nose that was keeping you from breathing well. And truthfully, you did sound a little stuffed up, but I wasn't too worried about it. But your dad was all of a sudden on alert, at nearly midnight, with the fear that this phantom booger might keep you from breathing. So I got up, went over to him, grabbed you out of his arms and "got his head on straight," as he told me tonight when we were talking about it.
Which made me realize that I'm lucky that Grandpa Tom has given me some of his confidence that you will be all right. I don't need to freak out about every little thing and you'll be fine, if we give you everything we have and then some.
So in all, you've been a great baby and we're very fortunate. I cannot imagine what life was like before you, even though it was only a short while ago.
I love you, James Thomas!
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