Liam Henry MacNicholas. 7 lbs 5 oz. 21 1/2 inches (who would have thought I would have a long baby).
A little late, but I'm sure you all understand.
**Disclaimer: If you don't like details, don't read this.
One of the first things I learned in our birthing class was to write a birth plan. Very typical me never did write one up. I kept thinking about it, but it didn't happen. I think deep down I knew it wouldn't matter much. I was right.
I was playing with the idea of having a natural birth. It just seemed natural. Ha. But really it did. I figured our bodies were made for this so how could I not do it. The idea of being able to walk around, move into any position I felt like was so appealing to me. Drew and I decided to take The Bradley Birth Method classes. Though I still was not completely set on having a natural birth, this class seemed to be the biggest bang for our buck. It was a 12 week course that talked about everything from nutrition to epidurals. Yep, that's right. A natural birthing method class that discussed epidurals because you never know what is going to happen. Every week after class I would have a different opinion about what I wanted. On our ride home, Drew would always listen to me debate with myself what I was going to do. And supportively he would always say "It's your body. I support you no matter what you choose." This was oh so helpful when it came down to decision making!
The doctors told me my due date was September 29. I knew they were off and figured they just didn't turn the due date wheel enough. According to my calculations my due date was between October 1 and October 5. I wasn't quite sure because my period was all funky before we started trying. Either way, the due dates were all around the same time. I told every one it was September 29 because it was the earliest date, and even if I was late it sounded better to me.
For some reason, I was convinced that Liam would come early. My theory was that since Aunt Flow decided to make her first appearance when I was 9 years old (yes, 9) I had to have my baby early. When the middle of September came around and my little boy still was cooking, I still thought he would come before his due date. Well, he didn't. I started having contractions Thursday afternoon around 3 pm on September 29. They weren't anything to cry over. They weren't even as painful as my least painful menstrual cramps. The contractions were so mild that I was able to sleep through them that night. At this point, I figured this would happen for two weeks and Liam would be really late. I had been dilated to 2 cm and 80% effaced for almost three weeks. Ugh. Around 7 am Friday morning, the contractions started up again. They were coming stronger, but they were bearable. So bearable that I still worked for a couple of hours (from home, of course). When it became more evident that something was going on, I told Drew to come home. He couldn't function at work anyway so what was the point of him working. He came home and took a nap for a few hours. I couldn't sleep, not because of the pain, but because of the excitement so I talked to one my very good friends who reassured me to do whatever I want. If it was an epidural that I wanted and needed that I should get it. She did it naturally. She is allergic to an epidural she found out in high school after having knee surgery. Bahh. So she had no choice. To hear her words of encouragement made me the happiest person ever. Because here I was in labor, stressed out not knowing whether I should get an epidural or not.
Sometime around 4 or 5 pm I felt the need to go shopping. What is better than that?
These stores are my favorite. So unique. So chic. You are bound to find something any time you step in the doors. Sorry their site isn't the greatest. Coincidentally enough, there were no parking spaces close to the stores forcing me to walk. This was great. I liked it. It took about ten minutes to walk a couple blocks, but this meant the time was near. We went home and got ready for dinner. I was craving some lettuce wraps from Pei Wei. Now that I am writing this, I am craving some now as well. Drew was in the bathroom getting ready, and I needed to pee. Really bad. Before I even got to the toilet, I felt like I peed myself. Clearly, not a first during my pregnancy (see a couple posts below). Then I saw it. What I had been waiting for. The bloody show that was not so bloody. Gross. I was so ecstatic. Drew looked down and though I'm sure he thought it was gross was also excited. It was really happening. Whoo hoo. So off to dinner we went delighted as ever.
As we were waiting in line deciding what to eat, again, I felt like I had peed myself. This happened about three more times before I realized my water had broken. I called the doctor, only to find out that my original doctor who I had changed, was on-call. Amazing. Just my luck. You'll find out soon why I wasn't fond of him. I told him I thought my water had broke. We learned in our class that if your water breaks, though you can wait a little before going to the hospital, you are usually told by doctors to go check in because of infection that can happen once your water breaks if you don't deliver soon. Well, my doctor's response was "Hmmm it's hard to tell if it has broke or not. How far apart are your contractions?" He told me my contractions weren't close enough to come in, but it sounded like I was coming in tonight. Typically, I don't say anything to doctors. But I was irritated. I had just told him my water broke and he didn't tell me to come in. I was ready to come in! So I politely said, "I am peeing myself. I'm not pushing and yet a clear fluid is slowly gushing out of me." His response, "Well it sounds like your water broke. You need to come in right away. I'll let the nurses know." Really? Whatever. At least I got my way. We checked in to the hospital around 8 pm. The nurse tested to see if my water broke and when I coughed and couldn't hold in the water spewing out, I even knew the little strip would say it was amniotic fluid. So it was real. I was in labor. My bundle of joy was going to be here any minute. Then they told me I was still at 3 cm and 90% dilated. What? After three and a half weeks I had only moved from a 2 to a 3. So my dreams had been shattered and I thought it was going to be a loooooooong labor.
The nurse told me I had to be given pitocin because things needed to speed up a bit. Well that was that. I've heard all about pitocin and nobody is going to make me give birth naturally with some not-so-natural medicine in me. Natural pain is fine with me. Induced pain is not fine with me. Drew told me that he thought it was meant to be that I needed pitocin because deep down he said I really wanted an epidural. Ha! So true. It took about an hour before we were placed in our room.
I had heard about the iv being worse than the epidural. Ha. Well, I would like to say that four, yes, one, two, three and four iv's are much much worse. My nurse stuck me twice on my left arm and decided that she wasn't going to stick me anymore. Another nurse came in and stuck me twice on my right arm. Apparently, the veins in my wrist weren't good enough so lucky me got to have an iv on the top of my hand. Not fun. To make matters worst, my blood pressure was high and I had to keep a cuff on during my entire labor. So every half hour when the cuff would tighten around my arm like a tourniquet, the two places where I was previously stuck with an iv would throb as though someone was trying to stick a jagged stick through my skin. Then about another hour after that they gave me pitocin. The doctor came in finally and said "Good thing you came in because your water did break." I would have been happy not seeing his face the rest of the night.
Death is how I describe it. I thought someone was injecting my stomach with something lethal. Maybe Liam was going to just shoot out of my stomach while tearing apart every organ in my body. Maybe Liam was an alien and my body was attacking itself in order to save me. Maybe just maybe someone had shot me with a machine gun and I was dreaming I was having a baby instead. When the nurse came back in about 45 minutes later and told me that the pitocin wasn't working well enough and she had to bump it up, I thought maybe I might strangle her. Luckily for her, I was hooked up to every wire in the hospital, constraining me from even flinching. So as though death wasn't bad enough, I now didn't even have time to think about what the pain felt like. My contractions were three minutes apart lasting about a minute and a half to two minutes. Sooooooooooooooooo where is the epidural?
The nurse asked me if I was ready for the epidural and I didn't even think twice about it. It took what seemed like an eternity for the anesthesiologist to come in, but when he did I was certain it was love at first sight. Then he made bend over my ginormous belly during a contraction while sticking a huge needle in my back. Lovely. But before I could even think about hurting him, the pain was gone. Was it possible? No. Of course not. The pain isn't there so clearly I'm not having contractions. I'm glad I was wrong. Drew went to bring my mom and his mom back into the room. Yes, you read correctly. He left. Not only did he leave, he left me by myself for 45 minutes. I won't even explain how long that felt. Remember how I mentioned that I couldn't move because of all the wires I was hooked up to? I couldn't even reach my phone to call him. I was tempted to call the nurse and have her drag in my obviously deranged husband, but I fought the urge. Don't worry. Drew has vowed to never do that again. If he does, he knows the consequences.
Now that Drew was back, I felt the urge to poop. Yes. Never in my life had I been so excited to feel this sensation. We called the nurse, and a nurse who was not mine came in about 15 minutes later. I was dilated to an 8! There was no way I went from a 5 to an 8 in two hours, but I did. She told me to call again when the urge was ten times worse and it could be anywhere from 2 minutes to three hours. Three hours? Nope. Not going to happen if I have anything to do with it. So it was really only about 2 minutes later that the urge was a lot stronger and I told the nurse she needed to come back again. They must have thought I was stupid because nobody came for about 20 minutes. When the nurse (this time, my actual nurse) came in and checked me I was at 9.5 cm. I can't remember if Drew went to tell our moms that this time they really needed to come back into the room or if they just happened to walk in. Either way, they were there when I was ready to push.
Pushing. I didn't like it. It's exhausting. I pushed for exactly an hour and I know that is not necessarily the longest time, but I have a lot of friends who pushed for 20 minutes so it seemed like forever for me. Drew was on one side and the nurse on the other. Our moms standing front and center. Liam started to crown and i kept asking when the doctor was going to come in. Then the real excitement began.
Here I am, legs spread open, baby crowning and feeling the urge more than ever to get him out of me and what happens? The nurse tells me to stop pushing. Ummm, I know I'm not a doctor or a nurse, but that doesn't sound right to me. So I'm groaning because I'm mad I can't push the baby. My nurse is yelling at another nurse in the door who is telling us that she is calling another doctor. My nurse is telling her that my doctor was already called and should be on his way and to get him now! Then my nurse yells at me to quiet down. Finally, the nurse in the hallway tells my doctor to literally run into the room because I'm crowning. He runs in with his hair stuck to his head, sits down, and I don't wait a beat. I push out Liam and slowly slump into my bed. It was over. Only seven hours after checking into the hospital he was here at 3:10 am. The first baby born in October at our hospital.
The next sequence of events are such a blur. I vaguely remember Drew cutting the cord in front of me then someone placing Liam in my arms. He was the most beautiful ugly baby in the world. As all of you know, Liam was blessed with more hair than most one year olds. With all the gunky insides of me left on his head, his hair was matted down into some not so handsome waves. This made his uneven cone head look awfully funny. His forehead looked bigger than his body. He was born with a cephalhematoma that made the right side of his head much larger than the left. But he was mine. His newborn eyes (though all newborns look asian, his were actually part asian), his button nose and pouty cheeks were perfect. And I loved him no matter what. Liam was taken away from me to get weighed and cleaned up.
In the meantime, my epidural was wearing off and I felt every single stitch. But all I had to do was look over to my right to forget about the pain. All that hard work during Liam's ten month stay in my belly had paid off and I knew that my life had changed forever.
I have to say that Drew surprised me. He surprised himself. It was so rewarding to see my baby in the flesh, but it was so much better to know that I had my supportive husband to help me raise this child and our future children. I love him forever. He is truly by BFF.
So glad that's all over. In a few years, I'll be happy to do it all over again. Well, I'll be happy when that is all over too.
xoxo,
sally mae
