I hesitated to do a birth story blog. For years I've cringed at the thought of reading anything another person writes that contains words like cervix or dilated or birth canal. But, ya know, this blog is where I happen to chronicle my life and store my memories, so leaving out such a momentous event didn't seem right either.
In light of that, I've decided to do some sort of a compromise. I will be writing a birth story. But I won't be writing a graphically detailed, gory version and promise not to use the word cervix. I've decided the best approach is to tell the story as I've heard The Boy from Texas tell it to other people. He is super private and I figure if he feels comfortable including it when he tells the story, it's probably safe to share.
|Final belly photo headed into the hospital.|
At about 36 weeks I started having contractions and beginning to dilate. At that time, the doctor told us that he thought we could be having a baby "any day now" and that he didn't think we would make our due date, which was great because we would not have to discuss things like induction. With that info, we hurried around and got our hospital bag packed, carseat ready to go, and waited on a baby. Well....said baby decided to prove the doctor wrong. (My dad swears that all doctors tell all women at 36 weeks there will be a baby any day just so they don't jump out a window thinking they have a month of pregnancy left. Maybe he's right.)
At our last scheduled appointment, which happened the day before BB was due, the ultrasound tech spotted something concerning on the ultrasound that she brought to the doctor's attention. In light of this, the doctor told us that we needed to go ahead and plan on having a baby the next day and that we should induce. So, there was the plan.
After a lovely dinner with one of The Boy From Texas' co-workers, we headed home to get some sleep before heading to the hospital at 6:00 am.
The Day Of
Once we arrived, they got me checked in and gave me Pitocin at about 8:00. They asked if I wanted an epidural and my answer was that I thought I'd wait and see. I didn't like the idea of not being able to get up and walk around, but turned out, because they induced me I couldn't get up and walk around anyway. So in light of that, after about an hour and a half of pretty serious contractions, I decided an epidural was a good idea. It just didn't make sense to me to spend all day in pain when there was medicine to help with that. So the epidural man came in and took care of me....and I wanted to kiss him. I could still feel a little pain, but nothing too bad.
So from there, we basically hung out for the rest of the day and just waited. About 1:00 they came in and said I was progressing nicely and we would probably have a baby by 4:00. (Perhaps something else they tell every poor woman...)
At 4:00, they said we'd wait another couple of hours. At 6:30 they came in, I was ready to go, and we decided to start pushing. The nurse told me she thought I'd probably just need to push about 30 minutes and we'd have a baby. The kickoff for Monday Night Football was on, Patriots v. Steelers. We started pushing about the time kickoff happened.
Well, after pushing for 4 hours, still no baby. My favorite part of this time was during the midst of this, the nurse says, "Who in the family has red hair?" Well, there is red on both sides of the family, so we knew there was a chance of a red-headed boy. It was hilarious that before he was even born, that red hair was a topic of conversation.
The Boy from Texas was a champ. He held my leg in the air for hours, held my hand, handed me barf bags, was right in the middle of it all.
4 hours into this, I was exhausted. I had been vomiting all day. I was starving. I was on oxygen having a hard time breathing. The baby was beginning to show signs of distress. The doctor came in an said that we were in a situation where we needed to do something different. I was out of energy and the baby was starting to have trouble. He very calmly explained we had three options: forcepts, vaacum, or c-section. The Boy from Texas sort of took over at this point and asked what the doctor thought we should do. He said he really thought he could have the baby out with forcepts in 2 pushes. Decision made.
At this point, people started running into our room. All day it had pretty much just been us and the nurses and a couple of nursing students who were hoping to see their first delivery. Suddenly, the room was full of probably 10 nurses everywhere. The doctor got everything ready and off we went.
Now, when I heard forcepts, I didn't really know what that meant. I pictured some sort of long tweezer-like things that would grab his head. No. What I saw were these tong-looking things the size of the dang spatchula The Boy from Texas uses on the bbq grill. I can't even.
The doctor was right, two pushes, horrible pain, and the baby was out. He didn't cry and all I could see was that his legs looked blue. The Boy from Texas could see him and assured me that he was fine. Dad cut the cord, the doctor finished up working on me, and that was that.
So, with that, BB arrived. He weighed in at 7 pounds, 10.9 oz. (For the record, I had guessed he would be 7 pounds 11 oz earlier in the day.) Measured at 19.5 inches long. He had the cutest little face, the longest little feet, and hair that is just barely tinged red.
|TBFT, BB, and our doctor, who TBFT now refers to|
simply as "a badass."
The baby was delivered exactly as the coaches shook hands after the game. While the doctor was working on me after the birth, he asked the nurses who won the game. "The Patriots," I responded. The doctor replied, "You were watching the game during that?!?" What can I say? I am, indeed, a football fan.
The After Party
After he arrived, the family came back in to meet BB. My parents, Ty's mom, and Ty's sister were all there.
Honestly, all I remember about this time was that I was so thirsty and starving. They let me have some water right away but made me wait an hour for food. By this point, it was midnight, nothing was open, and The Boy from Texas was also starving. Enter our friends 4-H Agent and Show Photographer. One text message later and these two showed up in the middle of the night bearing Whataburger for The Boy from Texas and red gatorade for me. That, kids, is what friendship looks like.
And just like that, we were a family of three.
So, there you have it. A birth story. Without using the word cervix. You are welcome.