Yesterday was my son’s 4th Birthday. I have usually been pretty good on his Birthdays but for some reason this year it hit me hard. He’s growing up way too fast. The time is just slipping away and I’m already starting to forget what it was like to wake up every few hours, making bottles, putting him down for naps, tummy time.. the list goes on. All those “baby” things are gone. It’s almost enough to make me want to call my husband while he’s at work and tell him it’s time to make another one! However I haven’t quite made up my mind as to whether I want another child… but that’s another topic all together.
For some reason yesterday I just could not stop getting emotional. I think it might have had something to do with the fact that it was the first year that I actually sat down and wrote a short version of my experience giving birth to my son. I wrote on facebook a status for my friends and family that revealed a little bit more than I had ever really told people about that day. Of course I talked about the labor and how long I went without an epidural and my regret in even getting one… but I hadn’t really expressed the feelings I had when I was told I needed an emergency c-section. The incredible fear and sadness that came over me when I heard those words. The look on my family’s faces while they watched me being wheeled away…
I will never forget it.
It was about 5:30 am and I really had to pee. I was laying there with my usual morning heartburn debating on whether or not I could hold my pee and go back to sleep. I did not feel like moving because it’s too hard to get comfortable again when you are 8 months pregnant. It was no use though, I had to get up and make that long trip down stairs to the bathroom. I moped on in there and started to go… and go… and go… um. It didn’t stop. Yeah, my water definitely broke. Great.
The night before I had gone on and on about how I was going to pack this and that in my hospital bag. It was a few weeks before my due date so I knew I had to get that done. I made a list of everything I needed and planned to do it the next day… well too late. I was surprisingly calm. I walked right into the kitchen and called my mom. She was at work already, in fact she had just gotten there. I let her know she needed to get there asap and I hung up. I walked back upstairs, turned on the bedroom light and very gently said to my husband Mike “Babe… my water broke we need to go to the hospital.” I seriously have never seen someone go from laying down dead asleep to standing that fast in my life. I literally laughed right out loud.
I wasn’t even feeling the contractions yet. I got my toothbrush and packed that really quick because it was the only thing I could honestly think to do at the time. I also grabbed a towel and put it down do I could sit and watch my mother and my husband frantically run around the house like chickens with their heads cut off. I just smiled to myself because it was so much like a classic unrealistic scene in a bad romantic comedy. Later at the hospital I realized something… I had not eaten since 6pm the night before… and I was SO hungry and those mofos would not let me eat. (Which is completely ridiculous) I wanted to murder my father and brother when they came back from eating lunch in the hospital cafe. They actually smelled like subs and french fries… how cruel!
After I had been in labor for several hours (I want to say about 7) the nurses basically told me that if I didn’t get an epidural now, the anesthesiologist would be busy for the next 5 hours or so and I wouldn’t be able to get one. So basically I was kind of pressured into doing it before I really wanted to. I always thought I would be the kind of woman that would go in wanting an epidural right away but it was the weirdest thing. I really didn’t want one. I was handling my contractions just fine. For me they felt like really bad cramps and as long as I breathed properly through them… they were manageable. I felt stronger than I ever have in my life. There I was handling something that people reference the pain of whenever talking about anything excruciating with complete ease. However when the pain got sharper and the staff insisted that I make up my mind right then and there… I caved. Thanks to reading every pregnancy and birthing book on the market I knew exactly how to handle the epidural and what to expect. For someone who hates getting needles… I took one to the spine pretty well.
After the epidural I basically stopped dilating. They put me on oxygen because they said that during contractions my baby wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I knew something was up when they started making me sign papers about possibly having surgery and what not. I mean they explained that a c-section was a possibility if things didn’t pick up… but I did not expect for the surgeon to burst into the room and declare that I needed an emergency c-section right away. My heart sank. All the noise of the room faded away, I couldn’t hear voices or the machines anymore. There was no sound. I didn’t know where to look or what to do as I laid there helpless and paralyzed. I just saw arms and wires and tubes, and things being unhooked. Next thing I know my bed is being pushed out of the room down the hall and rounding the first corner to the O. R. I turned my head to the side and watched my family from down the hall. My brother was the last one out of the room and the last one I saw. He smiled and waved and then he was out of my sight. I burst into tears. I just couldn’t control it. I cried the whole way to the operating room and I cried while they put me on the table and hooked me back up to more machines and everything. I came to find out later that once I rounded that corner and was out of sight my family broke down into tears at the same time that I did. We were all trying to be strong for each other.
My husband finally arrived by my side after getting into his scrubs. He held and kissed my hand. I was still crying… in fact I think I was crying too much because it felt like they just kept cranking up the drugs. I was in and out of consciousness after that. I’m not sure if my eyes were opened or not because I don’t remember seeing anything. I heard my son crying for the first time… even over my own sobs and then I was back out again. When I woke up my husband was hovering over me. I asked for my baby and he said to look over there… I turned my head and there he was. My beautiful healthy 6lb 2oz baby boy. He was born, and little did I realize just how much my life would be changed forever.
4 years later and here we are. I’m looking around at the aftermath of one successful Marvel Super Hero themed Birthday party… and I just can’t contain how weird and awesome it feels to be the mother of that little boy. In case you were wondering he has been playing non stop since he got up this morning. He got a lot of really great presents. We tried to scale back on the gifts but it’s so hard not to just give him everything possible! We have no shortage of Marvel or Jake & the Neverland Pirates in this house… that is for sure.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that every moment is important. Time really goes by way too fast and you need to take the time to appreciate the little things. All the little moments and memories. I also really just wanted an excuse to write down this little story.
2 thoughts on “My Birth Story”
this was a beautiful story. you left me in tears.
Awe! Thank you so much!