Wednesday, August 01, 2012

So, I had a baby ...

I fell asleep watching the home run derby. Before TK fell asleep, his last words were, "Feel free to wake me up at 2:30 when your water breaks. Good night!" It was 2:22 a.m. and I woke up and felt funny, so I figured it was time to visit the bathroom to empty the bladder. I wasn't even able to walk past TK's side of the bed before my water broke. It was like I spilled a Dixie cup full of warm water on my pants. Whoa! So, I yelled to TK that my water had broke and then I ran to the bathroom and told him to bring me the phone. I guess he planned it this way because he made me eat spicy General Tso's Chicken for dinner and then take three laps around our backyard, and we live on almost an acre of property.

So, as I sat on the toilet I made a call to the overnight service and they connected me with the doctor on call, who was not my doctor ... and a male. It is not that I am sexist or anything, I just didn't (past tense) know why a man would choose to be an OB/GYN. Seemed very odd to me. Anyway, I asked him if I should rush on in and he said to get to the hospital as soon as I could get myself together, but not to rush. An hour later (3:30 a.m.), we got to the hospital and I wanted to head to admitting. The security guard asked me if I was sure and TK told him that I was a trooper and that I was fine. So, after all the paperwork, I headed up to the maternity floor and waited in the lobby for them to call me in. My parents arrived and sat with us until they called my name. I went into the freezing delivery room that would be my new home for the next 14 hours and changed into my new outfit. The nurses asked me almost a million questions about tattoos and piercings, family history and contractions, and then they gave me a sonogram to see if I really broke my water ... and I did.

Then TK and my mom came in to stay with me and the doctor decided to induce me with Pitocin because I wasn't having contractions on my own and I was only two centimeters dilated. The IV didn't work in one wrist, so the nurse switched it to the other arm, and I was all set, until the contractions started. 

HOLY CRAP! Contractions are no joke. It feels like the worst period cramp that you have ever had because your stomach tightens and you have to remind yourself to breathe through the pain. TK thought he could talk to me during this time, but I politely reminded him that it was not a good idea and he would need to shush while I have a contraction. Instead, he watched my contractions on the machine to see how crazy they got every time. The nurse then asked if I wanted an epidural because there were six other preggos that came in with me, so if I did, I would have to get it right then and first. I said, "Most definitely!" And, they ushered TK and my mom out and invited the anesthesiologist in. I didn't really feel the needle go in because the contractions kind of distracted me, but as soon as the meds made their way in, my hips got tingly and my back felt like someone poured warm oil down it. It was sensational and I REALLY don't know why a woman would turn it down. Eventually my stomach and legs went numb, but my feet and ankles did not. Then, the waiting game began ...

Around 4:30 p.m. while under four blankets and with half of my body regaining feeling, I was finally 10 centimeters dilated and I was going to start pushing. That took everything, and an hour and a half. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, but then came the stitches and they were the worst part of it all. When he came out, I asked and waited for the cry, and it came. Phew!

He was out, after 16 hours, and now he is in the world. Jackson (Jax) Thomas, at 8 pounds 3 ounces and 21 inches long, is the best thing I have ever created, and I feel extremely lucky to now have him in my life. What a heartwarming feeling it is to be this little special person's mom and to share him with his father, his grandparents and his family and friends. I am amazed that I was able to make this perfect little guy and that he will eventually call me Mommy.


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