When a baby is born, a mother is too.

A lot has changed since my last post. I am now the proud mother of a little baby boy!
I'll start with the beginning.

On February 14th of 2012, I took out a calendar and did some math. I counted, recounted, recounted again, and recounted about a billion more times. I realized I was very very late and that that had never happened before. I finally put the calendar away and knew pretty much at that point what was going on. I felt a major rush of emotions... all somewhere between feeling terrified and thrilled. I didn't want to tell Shane until I at least took a test and I wasn't able to get to the store to pick one up that day. So that night I went to bed with a secret. I could barely sleep. I laid there with my hand on my stomach, taking deep breaths, and thinking "this is it. our lives are about to change forever."

The next day I worked until about 6:30 and stopped at Walgreens on my way home. I scanned the aisle and found a brand that I heard good things about so I picked it up. I was so nervous I was shaking at the checkout counter. I put the test in my purse and came home. I secretly took the test while Shane finished eating dinner. At first the test wasn't very clear to me so I texted my friend Christina for help and in the meantime I did some research online. Both she and the internet confirmed that it meant I was pregnant. Shane was practicing guitar on the couch (he was teaching himself to play while recovering from knee surgery) and I sat down next to him and very nervously told him that we needed to talk. Before this moment came, I had so many different fun and exciting ways of telling him that I had in my head for years. But when the time actually came, all that mattered to me was that I tell him. He said "ok" and waited. I told him that "I took a pregnancy test... and it appears to have come out positive." He smiled and gave me this "for real?" kind of look. He then wrapped his arms around me and we shared a wonderful happy moment. It then turned into "holy cow, what do we do?! We need a doctor!" so Shane and I started asking moms from church who they recommended. My friend and coworker Deb told me a little about her doctor and she sounded great so I gave her a call the next day. She turned out to be a really great doctor, one that is so good, she's almost impossible to get into. Thankfully I did!

Throughout the pregnancy she told me how to remain healthy and happy and how to provide that for my baby as well. I worked very very hard at doing things in moderation and doing whatever was best for baby. As a long time caffiene addict, my biggest challenge was decreasing my caffiene intake. But I really wanted a healthy baby. In then end it was so worth it when not only did I get a healthy baby, but a healthy me. The only weight I really gained was baby weight. I never swelled anywhere else and was only 8 pounds heavier than when I started after the baby was born. I owe that all to my wonderful doctor!

The pregnancy brought so much anxiety and excitement. For the first 2 trimesters, I was mostly excited. Especially when I felt the baby move for the first time. Shane and I were both sitting on the couch and reading and I felt a bunch of lovely little flutters. It made me giggle. For a few weeks, I would feel those movements and laugh. But as time went on, those flutters turned into punches and kicks! It was amazing to not only feel my little boy moving around so much but to be able to see him too. I would lay in bed at night and watch his limbs move about under my belly. It got to be where I could even play with him. I could poke my belly in one spot, and a second later I would see a limb poke back. I showed Shane that he could touch my belly anywhere and baby would find a way to respond. He thought it was pretty cool.

As the third tri-mester approached and we were finishing up our birthing class, the excitment turned into fear. Since I had the most amazing mom in the entire world, the fear was not about being a good mom. I knew I could be a good mom after having been blessed with one who taught me so much. But the fear was about the actual birth. For the first few months, I didn't really think about it. But after seeing videos in the class and learning more about what actually happens to the body, I was quite scared. Some nights I couldn't even sleep. I had no idea how I was going to push a human being out of my body.

In the birthing class, we were told to have a "birth plan" ready. An actual sheet of paper with what we planned to use for labor (an exercise ball, massage techniques, breathing) It was also supposed to have what drugs we did or didn't want. Even my doctor told me I should have this plan ready and when we got to the hospital, the nurse asked for my birth plan as well. I told her my "birth plan" was to pray and let God do the rest. Looking back, I could not have been more happy with that decision. I didn't want to go in set on getting medications or having a natural childbirth. I just wanted God to guide me as it happened.

I woke up at about 6 am on Thursday, 10-11-12. I had been feeling light, very far apart contractions. There was also a tiny wet spot on the bed and my doctor told me if there was ANY sign of fluid to call immediately. I called her and she told me to eat a light breakfast, pack up my things, and get to the hospital. 

We then spent the entire day at the hospital, leaving the staff puzzled. There is a test that is 99.9 percent accurate when it comes to ammniotic fluid. Well I was in the .1 percent where it's inaccurate because I tested positive for ammniotic fluid but that's not what was. Though we didn't know this at the time. The nurse swore by the way the fluid looked that my water had not broken. She turned out to be right but no one knew this at the time and they couldn't just send me home if there was a chance my water broke. We spent the day doing all kinds of tests for ammniotic fluid and although the first test said yes it is, everything else said no it isn't!

My nurse called my doctor again to tell her what all the tests were showing and asked what she wanted to do. I was one day early, the baby was full term, she saw no reason to send me home. She wanted to get that baby out.

At this point, after walking around the hospital and getting tests, I was feeling light, sparatic contractions.

I was then given a medication (not orally. ewe) that would dilate me over a period of 12 hours.

It wasn't long after that that I felt really gassy. I kept telling my mom and Shane that my tummy hurt and I felt so gassy. My mom just kind of nodded and smiled and looked at the monitors. (secretly thinking "that's not gas, kiddo.")

Soon the "gas" was causing me to do my breathing exercises. The nurse came in, checked the monitor (I couldn't really see it from my angle) and said "oh you're feeling them now aren't you?" and she gently placed her hand on my head as if to calm me down. Then she said "and they're getting regular!" She then walked away and my naivety went with her. This wasn't gas, these were contractions!

When she came back to see how far dilated I was, she noticed I wasn't doing my breathing for every contraction. She warned me that when they start, there is no way of knowing how bad they will be and to do my breathing every single time. So since the breathing exercises helped me so much, I listened to her!

She ended up working double shifts and she was excellent but had to leave eventually so a new nurse came in. By the time this one came in, my contractions were so severe I could barely move. At first Shane would hold my hand and rub my back and it felt nice. But as the pain got worse, I wanted no contact. I had this little tube of contact solution that I brought with me and I took my contacts out but decided to hang on to the tube. For some reason, squeezing that little thing helped so much. I wanted to try natural childbirth, but I prayed and knew it wasn't for me. If this drug was going to take 12 hours to do it's thing, and my contractions were that painful, there was no way I would have the energy to keep going the way things were and still have strength to push. I told Shane this and called the nurse in. I told her I wanted the epidural.

She told me she would get an IV going but I wouldn't be able to have the eppy yet because they don't do them until the patient is further dilated. I felt like I wanted to cry but held it together. She kept telling me I needed to sit back because they were having a hard time hearing baby's heartbeat with me hunched over. The pain was so terrible though I couldn't move. It wasn't until my mom told me that they don't know if the baby is ok without hearing the heart beat that I finally sat back and delt with it.

The nurse decided to check me to see how far dilated I was. (these "checks" by the way were completely painful and totally unpleasant. my doctor had been doing pelvic checks in the weeks prior to labor and every single one hurt like you wouldn't believe) Anyway, she checked me and then I saw her step back in surpise. The medication was working much faster than expected and I was way more dilated than she thought. She gave me a little apology and went to call for the epidural.

When she came back, she said "bad news on the epidural. they're calling for an emergency c-section." Shane looked momentarily stunned with worry and then said "what? for her?"! And she said "Oh no, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I mean someone else is getting one, which means the anesthesiologist is busy and can't deliver the epidural yet." We both leaned back in relief. ... She was not my favorite nurse.

I waited for what seemed like forever but was probably only 20 minutes. Finally the gas man came to give me the good stuff. A few weeks before, my friend Deb (a mother of 5) told me to just brace myself for the needle. That the hardest part is you have to be completely still while someone is sticking a needle in your back and you're having contractions. Turns out she was right. At that point I was sweating (I guess just from the pain) and for some reason I had found that shaking during contractions helped. So when I had to be still while having the most intense contractions yet was not easy. It wasn't even the needle that bothered me, it was not being able to move. I clutched a pillow and with my head buried into it and my nurse bracing me, I made it through the eppy.

Normally an epidural takes about 20 minutes to kick in. But the anesthesiologist said something about "nurse Ratched over there." and I faintly laughed and said "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." He was so excited that I got his joke, he ran over and sped up the eppy process. Within 2 minutes my legs were tingly and my contractions felt like minor cramps.

Soon I was given a new nurse. Her name was Peggy and I will never forget her. She was the nurse who was with me from that moment until the end and she was incredible. Peggy came into check on me a little while after I had the epidural and asked why I was still breathing (hee hee hoo) through my contractions. I said that it was mostly out of habit because the other nurse had me breath through every one. She smiled and walked away. But secretly I was still feeling pain. It wasn't nearly as bad as before though and I knew I could handle it.

It's now about 12:45 am. I had enjoyed the eppy for maybe an hour and Shane, my mom, and I were all trying to sleep. Shane on the floor, my mom on a chair, and me in my bed. I was super close to sleeping when Peggy came into check my cervix. She said "I think it's about 8 but let me see if I can get in there and produce a contraction and we'll see how far along you are with a contraction." She made a "I'm concentrating" face and wiggled around for a few seconds down there when we both felt a huge pop and a rush of water came flooding out. She pulled out in surprise and we both looked at each other and smiled. Finally after spending the entire day wondering if my water broke, we both knew it had. She rushed out shouting "call the doctor! this baby is coming now!" And before I knew it, bright lights were on, Shane and my mom were in scrubs and the room was full of people.

There was a movable wall in the room that sectioned off where all the post-labor work is done on the baby. At Community, they are big on bonding and do everything in the same room so that baby never has to leave his mother. (unless something is wrong) So the wall came down and there was a whole staff of people preparing baby's side of the room.

Normally I am a very VERY shy person. But there's something about wanting to get a human being out of your body that makes you ignore the fact that you're half naked and laying spread eagle in front of an entire staff of people.

At this point, I am now feeling the strong urge to push. We were told in the birthing class that your body knows what to do and when it comes time to push, you will magically know how. Well Mary (the teacher for the class) was right. Once my water broke, all I wanted to do was push. But the doctor wasn't there yet and I wasn't allowed to until she checked everything and gave me the go ahead. I just remained frozen because I knew if I moved even an inch, I wouldn't be abe to stop myself.

Finally she gets there and I'm chanting "don't push, don't push" and she smiles and says "Ok that chant you're doing... take out the don't." So with Shane on one side holding one leg and my Mom on the other with the other leg (with an epidural you can't hold your own legs up) and with Peggy in the middle, I begin pushing. Doctor walked away for a while (her job is really just the final catch) so it was Peggy doing all the coaching. She was so great and so encouraging. I can't even begin to describe how exhausting it is to push. Without those 3 people there with me, I have no idea how I would have done it. I pushed for 2 hours. It was very hard feeling like I wasn't getting anywhere but I was working so hard. Finally nurse Peggy grabbed me and yelled "Open your pelvis!" And although it sounds nuts, that literal imagery worked pretty well. But the best advice I can give anyone who is reading this and is about to have a baby is to not put your legs down. If you're laboring in the usual position (like all the women do on tv), I tell you do not put your legs down in between pushes. Once I told Shane and my mom to just keep them up... baby was out in 2 pushes.

Then at 2:53 AM I felt the most relief I have ever felt in my entire life as little Henry slipped out. They placed him in my arms for half a second and Shane and I began crying happy tears. We couldn't wait to meet the little guy! Then they took him to his side of the room to clean him up. While this was happening, I felt the urge to push again. I asked the doctor what that was about and she said "it's the placenta. but your job is done, I've got this." and then it just slid out and I laid my head back in relief again. Earlier when I was pushing I heard the doctor say something about sutures and I nervously asked my mom what she was talking about. My mom said "they're talking about someone else." and me being so tired, I believed her. (she was fibbing to keep me calm during pushing) But it became clear after baby came out that the stitches were indeed for me. And boy was there a lot of them. I didn't just tear, I tore reeeeally bad. And you would think with the epidural still in full swing that this wouldn't be so bad, but the suturing process was brutal and it went on for over half an hour. I kept asking the doctor when she would be done!

In the meantime, she said baby sounded "grunty" so they took him away to check him and Shane went with. She said by the time he came back, the stitches would be finished. Finally he came back and I was done but the baby still wasn't ready. He was fine but they had to do a few things first.

Before baby was brought to me, I was taken to a Post partum suite by wheel chair. Which sounds simple enough but when you have zero feeling in your legs, getting in and out of a wheel chair is a 2 person job. But then I got to the room and a nurse poked her head in to tell us baby would be in soon and boy is he hungry! 

Finally my precious angel was brought to me and I began nursing without any problems. (that boy would latch on to anything if he thought food would come from it. he still would)

The week after that was one of the hardest and best weeks of my life. I was so tired from feeding a baby who wanted to cluster feed all night and I was so frustrated that I couldn't sit up and could barely walk. The stitches were so aweful, I couldn't sleep at night. Honestly, post labor is worse than active labor because at least you get breaks from contractions but the pain from the tearing was constant.

I felt like such a lazy bum and I have no idea what I would have done without Shane by my side. Since I could barely move, he did all the diaper changing and brought baby to me when he was hungry, even in the middle of the night. It was also a major help when Shane's mom stayed the night and came back again later to clean and cook us dinner.

I look back at how nervous I was in the third-trimester and smile because it was all so worth it. Henry was 8 pounds, 1 ounce when he was born and seemed so tiny. I loved holding that warm little bundle in my arms and though he's growing, I still love the feeling of having him close to me. I was right about a year ago when I laid down to sleep, thinking that our lives were about to change forever. But I had no idea the change would be this precious and this rewarding.

Henry is a miracle and I literally thank God for him every night. All babies, all lives are miracles. I really don't know how someone can look at something as intricate and beautiful as human life and not believe in God.