I know this is a very late blog post. I have been in sleep-deprived baby bliss for the last two weeks; two weeks today to be exact. My son turned two weeks old today and it is still unbelievable to me that this little boy is in my life.
After nine months of a happy pregnancy and the wonder of another life growing and thriving inside me, it all came to a crescendo on my due date. September 18 at 8:15 a.m. my water broke while I telecommuted in my home office (I was trying to get some things done before my weekly doctor's appointment that was scheduled for 9:50 a.m. that morning).
"Ryan, I think my water broke!" I yelled from the living room. My husband came racing in from the other room.
"Honey, stand on the tile. You are getting amniotic fluid all over the carpet."
Suitcase, pillow and cord blood kit...they were all loaded into the car and we were off to the hospital. Along the way, we let my parents know that we were having the baby today and I chatted with my best friend (everyone calls their best friend on the way to the hospital, right?).
Triage confirmed that my water did indeed break. And, they sent me to labor and delivery. I was already dilated four centimeters...it had been confirmed at my doctor's appointment the week before. So, when they called my physician to let her know that I was here, she let told them to put me on pitocin.
At 12:10 p.m. I was put on an IV of pitocin to get contractions going. My family and my pastor came to the hospital to start labor off with a prayer and loads of love. This is what we had been preparing for, Ryan and I. We had everything we needed for a natural childbirth-- relaxation exercises, music, breathing.
Good thing we were flexible.
The idea of natural childbirth quickly came to a halt when the pitocin kicked in. My contractions came fast and strong. There was no time to focus on a beach scene in my head in order to go someplace away from the pain. In two and a half hours, I dilated from four centimeters to eight centimeters...and I was experiencing the worst kind of pain. Wrenching and excruciating, every contraction shot down my legs. My husband would try to prepare me for each contraction by having me begin to breathe just before it would hit (he was watching it all on a monitor). It got to the point...I didn't want to know.
"I want a epidural! I can't take the pain anymore."
I was in tears and no amount of breathing or relaxing music was going to put me out of my misery.
In about 20 minutes, the doctor came and gave me the epidural. And, all of my pain was taken away. I was in a happy, magical place. Ryan watched in awe as some of the biggest contractions hit the monitor and I didn't feel a thing. I was relaxed and feeling really good. I was so glad I went to the epidural class so that I woud feel comfortable with this option. This was great!
It was only a couple of hours and I was fully dilated to ten centimeters. Two hours of pushing, with the doctor arriving around an hour in...and my little boy was born. It was 7:23 p.m. in the evening and we met our son for the first time. A perfect son who had a full head of hair, weighed seven pounds nine ounces and measured 20.5 inches long.
The feeling of holding him close the first time -- amazing! I had a miracle laying in my arms. The little one who had been inside my belly this whole time was now flesh and bone, blood and breath. While I was in awe, it also felt so natural. He was meant to be here with Ryan and I. He was meant to be close to me.
Two weeks later and the awe of that moment in the delivery room still hasn't left me. I look at his beautiful blue eyes and that little expressive face...amazing! This is my son. This is my little boy with whom we will share new adventures. It is certainly bliss to be a mom. He has arrived!
No Camp Pies for Whiners
2 weeks ago