I am going to attempt to accurately tell the story of my son A.J.’s birth in this post and I am honestly a bit nervous. It was such a long process, I don’t know that I will actually be able to remember all the details.
My labor started at 7p.m. on Saturday June 27th. Previously I had experienced false labor twice, once lasting 8 hours while the other lasting 10. For this reason, I was hesitant to say anything to anyone… including my husband. But by about 6a.m. on Sunday, my secret was out… at least with my husband. Neither of us wanted to get our hopes up because although I was 41 weeks pregnant, I was scheduled to be induces at 42 weeks and 1 day since first time moms tend to go late, that late.
I was scared and nervous, my big “fear” was that I would have to be induced and that I couldn’t go pain meds free once I was hooked up to Pitocin. If I got my hopes up that this was the real deal and I stalled again, I new I would be devestated.
So we waited… I sat on my exercise ball and did puzzles in between each contraction which were anywhere from 5-7 minutes apart at this point. By about noon, we called my mom and told her what was happening and gave her the ability to decide if she wanted to risk things and come out to D.C. from Michigan or not. She decided to hop in her car and start the trip.
By about 9p.m. I started experiencing this pain that was some what common for me in the end of my pregnancy. It was as if my I was getting electrocuted in the inside of my right thigh. This would happen between each contraction I had and let me tell you, this pain made my contractions seem fun and enjoyable. So we decided it was time to go to the hospital.
Once there, I got checked and it was decided that I really needed to try to rest. I was given the option of resting at home or I could rest at the hospital. I decided I wanted to go home since I was SO fearful of having interventions take place at the hospital in an unnecessary way.
By 3 a.m. I was back at the hospital. The pain I was having in my leg was getting worse and would now happen at the end of each contraction as well as in between each one. It was brutal and I was in tears over it. And to be honest, I wasn’t able to rest at all so it really seemed pointless to be at home crying over something other than contractions.
Back at the hospital I was checked again and I hadn’t made any progress, I was still at 5cm dialated and 90% effaced. We were at this point participating in “Plan B’ which was getting a shot to more or less make me high so that I could rest in between contractions. This stuff was STRONG! I could feel it before the needle had even been taken out of my leg. I wish I could remember what it was called but like I said, t made me high.
THe funny thing about this medicine was that it didn’t take the pain of my contractions away. I felt each and every one of them (the meds lasted about an hour) but I was so doped up that I could sleep between each one. At this point my mom was with us and she got the brunt of my jacked up state of mind. For some reason, I became pretty paranoid during labor that the nurses were going to make me eat a banana. Well friends, I HATE bananas… and more than hating bananas, I hate how my husband seems to offer them to me as a source of medicine/comfort/energy.
Anyways, at one point I turned to my mom and made her promise me that she wouldn’t let anyone make me eat a banana. She told me she wouldn’t let it happen but I didn’t believe her so I kept saying it over and over again. While this was taking place I remember thinking to myself “I will not let this baby come out if they make me eat a banana”. Logic at it’s finest I tell you 😉
When I was checked again at 4a.m. I was dialted to 6cm. I labored from then until 5p.m. like a cave woman I tell you. I dragged myself into the shower, labored on a ball, did lunges, walked around… you name it I did it. And the results were not a bit of progress.
Yep! When I was checked again to find out that I was still at a 6 I just about walked out of that hospital. It was suggested that I be put on Pitocin and I turned to my husband convinced that this would be the road to a c-section. I thought for sure that with Pitocin would come unberable pain, leading me to an epidural which would slow down my labor and land me in the operating room somewhere between 3 and 5a.m. the next day.
My husband talked me down off of the ledge I was on with the help of my nurse and I took the pitocin.
Well blog world… that shit works!!!!! I was given the Pitocin at 6p.m. and at 7p.m. was fully dilated and completely effaced. So I started pushing. Except that pushing wasn’t working… as in it didn’t feel right.
So I tried all sorts of pushing, the conventional on my back while holding my legs, using a squatting bar, sitting up backwards in bed, nothin! So my midwife suggested I go try to empty my bladder as that may be preventing things from feeling “right”. Well, on my way to the restroom and I had the most incredible urge to push. So I grabbed my husbands hand and pushed. Then I looked at my midwife, asked if it was ok to push while standing up and she said yes. So I did it again, and again until I was in the bathroom on the toilet not emptying my bladder.
Slowly but surely my midwife, nurse and mom came into the bathroom where I proceeded to push. What seemed like a few minutes later, my midwife told me to reach down and touch my babies head. Now I had heard about this before and thought it was the most disgusting thing ever. But my word did it give me every bit of strength to finish having my baby. After words my husband said that he could see me get an adrenalin rush from feeling the baby.
About 3 pushes later, my midwife told me that with my next contraction I needed to stand up and reach down WITH HER to catch my baby. And that is exactly what happened. I reached down and grabbed my baby as he slid out. We had to stop about half way to me bringing him up to my chest because his cord was very loosely wrapped around his neck. But once it was unwrapped I continued bringing him up to my chest. I also shouted out… “It’s a boy, I can feel it!!”.
The poor little guys cord stopped pulsing the second he came out of me. His cord was actually pretty pathetic looking, it was very white and skinny. But it didn’t matter, he was perfect and healthy and hollering at all of us for taking him out of his comfy and warm home.
Speaking of warm… my little guy didn’t have a speck of vernix on him (a true sign of a late baby from what I’m told) and as I wrapped him in my arms I was amazed at that as well as how warm and slimy he was. It was the most amazing feeling in the world to have him in my arms.
Everything after that is a bit of a blur. A happy, adrenaline infused and wonderful blur! My sweet boy immediately pooped not once but twice in his first hour of life and latched on to nurse about 40 min. after being born.
Now our sweet A.J. is 6 weeks old (picture below) and growing like crazy. Our lives have been changed in ways I didn’t know were possible and I would happily due 50 hours of labor again for him. My favorite part of being his mom would be the middle of the night feedings because that is when I get to pray over him and his future and he always seems to reward me with a sleepy smile that has milk coming out of it.
At six weeks old he is already rolling over which I was to surprised about because he was holding his head up by himself when he was getting checked out by the pediatrician just 2 hours after being born. A.J. loves to follow his daddy around when he can hear him talking and walking around the house and although he is a rock star of a sleeper at night, his day time naps could use some serious work. But that’s OK, because I’m still stupid in love with everything he does.
When I was planning to write these blog posts I thought this one would be title like “the end”, but now I realize this is far from the end. In fact everyday with him seems like brand new beginning and I am so thankful for him and the new life he brings us.
THE KITCHEN REVOLUTION 