It is three weeks now since I finally held you in my arms for the first time. Three weeks since I put you to breast-- where you nursed wonderfully. So little, yet so big. So sturdy, yet so delicate. Here, for our own posterity, I write your birth story. The story where I became a new mother once again.
At around dinner time, I felt a contraction. I was quite for awhile, as is typical of those moments, and then glanced at your father. I quietly indicated to him that this may be the time. I didn't want to alert your siblings, for if they knew, and you were to be a night arrival, they would never sleep, and McDonald's playplace is not open over night.
Then, I had contractions like the previous nights, on and off, during the evening, but didn't think much of it. I did think, though, that I should go to bed early. I couldn't sleep. Your sisters went to bed around 8 p.m., and your big brother was reading in bed. By 8:30, I had been feeling a series of contractions that had still not gone away, while they were not "regular". I told your dad that I thought this might be the night (October 28th) but that I still wasn't too sure.
I did call the midwife to alert her, and then my mom. I first apologized for bothering them so late in the day. It still brings a smile to my face. The midwife asked me to call her again in about half an hour and let her know if things became more regular.
At 9:15 p.m. I called the midwife back and said that yes, things were regular. Then I called my mom and asked her to put the pedal to the metal (she lives 2 hours away). I was supposed to just rest, but once the assurance is there that things are definitely happening, moms get a surge of adrenaline. Plus, there were preparations!
Dad went directly to your brother's room and made him put his book away and try to get to sleep. Then, we re-made the bed with fitted sheet, shower curtain and plastic sheeting, and another fitted sheet. Baby clothes laid out and newborn dipes. I got my change of clothes out for the tub and after delivery. I made sure towels and other needed items were in place. Dad cleaned the house. Why? I don't know. He was nervous. We put pillows and blankets out for the midwife and her assistant by the couches, in case they were needed. Dad blew up the birth pool with the liner. I had laid down in bed again to rest, especially since contractions were coming on again.
Around 10:30, Dad realized that the faucet adapter did not fit our bathroom faucet, so he proceeded to sterilize two more hoses and ran the them all the way from the laundry room up to our bedroom. Around this time the midwife and her assistant came.
At 11:15 p.m. grandma arrived. She came up to say hello and that I needed to hurry if I wanted to have you on this feast day. I said I didn't think that would happen. However, about 20 minutes later, I felt the need to get in the tub.
Boy, did that feel goooood.
Contractions stopped.
I didn't mind, it was a welcome respite.
They started to become more regular again, and I even felt the urge to push (when one feels the urge, DO IT. That's one of the few times I will say to do whatever your body wants you to do). However, contractions were still far apart. To keep things amusing, I belched after every contraction. every. single. one.
A little after midnight, I started pushing. And pushing. and pushing. Between contractions, the midwives were giving eachother backrubs to stay awake, and me, too. Dad remarked he heard an owl in the distance. I remember thet orange juice and even mild coconut juice tasted too sweet to me, but I needed the calories and energy.
I had to change positions a few times, which was made much easier by being in the water.
Around 1:45 or so, your head came into this world. I continued to push, and truly felt hopeless. Your dad's face was probably smushed beyond recognition and I reached around him for comfort and strength. Five or so minutes later, the midwife said "We have to get you out of this tub now and get this baby delivered."
So, that's how I had to walk with a half-born baby. I climbed out of the tub (assisted) and lay on the floor by the bed. Dad was by my side, and the midwife had to find your broad shoudlers, one-at-a-time, and guide them through the birth canal with a finger hooked around your armpit. Out you were at 1:56 a.m. on the 29th of October!
A little cry, and I held you on my chest. You gave a little sigh, but the midwife gave you oxygen just to make certain you were breathing fine on your own.
There you were, so sweet, so precious! Absolutely perfect.
We moved to the bed, you latched on nicely. I was given a pitocin shot in the leg, and the midwife cut the cord to better manage the birthing of the placenta. A thing of note: the cord was already gray-- you had sucked it dry!
After the placenta was out, we had some nice time together. When we finally coaxed you to stop nursing long enough to get weighed and checked, we learned the grand totals:
23 inches long, 15 1/3 inch diameter to your head (biggest by far) and 11 pounds 13 ounces! I thank God every day that He saw fit for ust both to survive (and thrive) after that!
So, while you tip the scales, you are still my baby J, my "little dude". Thank you for joining our family, and I look forward to all the joy you will continue to bring to our family. (remind me of this when you "set the carpet on fire").
Love, Mom
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