Sunday, July 24, 2011

My Birthday Boy's Birth Story

I sit here thinking back to 9 years ago when my oldest was born. It was such an amazing day. I was both nervous and scared to be bring a new life into the world. I hoped and prayed I would be a good mom. I was terrified of the unknown from birth on. I was so scared about going into labor. The only thing that overrode my fears was the fact that I could not wait to meet the amazing child I had growing inside my body.

I'm still amazed I even willingly got pregnant. I swore I would never have a baby. Not because I didn't like children but because I was terrified of pain, needles and the thought of pushing a baby out of my va-jayjay. I liked kids well enough. I babysat A LOT from the time I was 11 until 16. I figured one day, far down the road I would probably adopt. My husband changed my mind easily. I was eager to create a new life that was part of both of us. I sucked it up and got through all the tests, the needles, the poking, the prodding and exposing myself monthly (then weekly) to doctors. Somehow, even after everything, I'm still modest and hate being check out "down there". Funny I know but that's just me.

I suffered all day morning sickness from the very moment I realized I was pregnant. I got violently ill right before Thanksgiving and I just knew. My husband had to work Thanksgiving morning so I ran to the local CVS to buy a pregnancy test and a card that read Congratulations You're a Father! Thanksgiving dinner was just the two of us because we had no family nearby at the time. It was a disaster because my (first ever) turkey wouldn't cook. So we just ate sides for dinner. I ducked into the bathroom before dessert and took the test. I didn't realize at the time that they work best first thing in the morning but that didn't seem to matter. It showed I was indeed Pregnant!! So, when I came out I served dessert and while we were snuggling on the couch I gave him the card. The shock and joy that crossed his face in those first few seconds said it all. I was nervous and excited. What did I know about being a mom?! Well, there was no looking back.  It was time to look forward and plan to welcome  new life into the world in nine short months.

Some how I survived morning sickness...lots of wheat thins, triscuts, grapes and baby carrots. I had that damn nausea all day long from the beginning until about a month before he was born. Too bad that isn't the good news it sounds like. Once the morning sickness ended I THEN had constant acid reflux 24/7 until 24 hours AFTER he was born. I still remember begging the labor nurse to tell me that once he was born that it would end and she told me yes. She LIED!! I was so upset at the time I almost cried. I just wanted to eat real food and enjoy it for once in a long time.

On the evening of July 22nd my first contraction hit. He was due on July 24th but if I didn't go into labor by the afternoon of the 23rd my doctor was going to induce me. I had been S-L-O-W-L-Y dilating since the end of June and my cervix was about 90% effaced the week before. My first contraction hit at 10:30 p.m. while I was on the phone talking to my dad and giving him directions to our new place. We had moved an hour away from where we had lived when I had first gotten pregnant.  He was driving up the next day...it would be a six hour drive for him.  My mom had been staying with us and helping me out for the last three weeks.  I am so grateful she was there for me.  Five minutes after the first contraction hit the second followed. I quickly hung up the phone, ran to the bathroom and puked my late night dinner.I still remember we were watching that baseball movie with Freddie Prinz Jr and Jessica Beil.  Some details are so clear.
After that I called the doctor and we left immediately for the hospital. My mom had a history of quick labors as did her mom. I had forewarned my OB so we were in agreement that I should head out. Since I refused to change doctors after moving we had an hour drive ahead of us.  It was my first child and I wanted to go through labor with the doctor I trusted.  I was tempting fate.  That drive during the daytime could have easily taken two hours or more during rush hour.  That route is extremely.  I thank God that I went into labor in the late evening hours.  I fear I would've made the news otherwise by giving birth in the car on the freeway.

We made it to the hospital by 11:45. My normally calm husband was a bit tense because my contractions were strong, steady and getting closer together. I'd say he was a bit freaked out. I had sworn I wouldn't ask for a wheelchair when I got the hospital but man did those contractions change my mind really quick. There was no way I was going to be able to walk to the elevator or anything!  Wheelchair it was!

My doctor took FOREVER to get there.  Meanwhile I was settled into a birthing room.  The doctor on duty finally came in to check me around  12:20/12:30.  At that point she announced I was 9 1/2 centimeters dilated and (her words) bulging!  The only thing keeping him is was the fact that somehow my water had yet to break.  All I know is I had been fighting the urge to push for a while.  Not knowing, I just thought I had to poop.  I kept worrying I was going to poop on the table. Seriously.  Now I understand that the feeling was actually the urge to push the baby out of my body.  The doctor said not to push.  HA!  I tried to be accommodating while thinking she was nuts.  I agreed to try.  What was I thinking?!  I guess my mouse side was showing and I didn't want to call attention to myself.  Crazy me.  Pregnant women in the middle of hard labor are pretty attention getting. 

My mom was there holding my hand as the contractions kept coming.  I was so glad she could be there for my first child.  My husband and her really helped.  I knew my husband wanted to watch the birth so I counted on my mom's support up by my head.  He is so fascinated by the whole process.  He told me he was glued to it when his first daughter was born.  Amazingly he was able to multitask and comfort me while watching the show.  He held my other hand, reassuring me with each contraction while taking glimpses of my body giving birth.  I'm so glad he got to experience the whole thing again.  I didn't want to deny him of that miracle.

Good thing I hadn't opted for drugs of any kind because there wouldn't have been any time.  Honestly, the decision to labor drug free was once again my fear of needles.  I hate pain but I hate needles more.  Go figure.  I was worried they would come in to administer the epidural and I'd puke or flinch.  Yep, wasn't going to chance it. Not less than two minutes after the doctor left I came to the conclusion (with my mom's help) that the baby was coming and there was no waiting.  I needed to push.  My body refused to take no for an answer.  My mom is not the outspoken type yet she opened that door and demanded the doctor come back because our baby was coming whether she liked it or not.

The doctor listened thank goodness.  She rechecked me and broke my water.  My doctor made it minutes after that.   She barely had time to scrub up and get into position.  My son was born two pushes later.  It should have been one push but he had a huge head (90th percentile).  We welcomed Goalieboy into the world at 12:51 a.m. July 23rd, 2002.  He was 7 lbs. 1.8 oz, 20 1/2 inches long.  His head was 13 1/4 inches and it ripped me when I pushed him out.  It was over so quickly.  I felt every stitch of that episiotomy and the shot with the numbing meds was extremely painful on that sensitive swollen area.  It hurt almost more than those pushes.  Seriously!

Looking back I remember all the feelings rushing at me.  I was overwhelmed, happy and terrified scared.  I was so nervous about being responsible for this tiny human being. Somehow, I pushed past it all.  From the moment of his conception I have loved him.  He is my world and I would do anything for him.  He may drive me insane more often than not and I may question myself as a parent at times.  But that's part of parenting.  Parenting has no instruction manual.  We learn as we go, by trial and error.  I've learned to trust my maternal instinct as they are usually right. 

I love my boy.  He will always be my baby (even as the oldest).  I have no regrets.  I don't always make the right decisions and neither does he but we are in it together.  I wouldn't change a thing.



1 comment:

Barbara said...

Thank you for sharing your birth story! And wow, 2 pushes, that is amazing!!