Here Comes Baby! (You Mean that's Not Constipation?)

-By Amy 

Pregnancy was pretty easy for me. 

Yes, during my first tri I felt exhausted, anti-social, and nauseated, but I only puked twice through my whole pregnancy.  (Unfortunately one time was after having a delicious pumpkin cheesecake shake, forever ruining that shake for me!)  Also, I frequently had to stop halfway home from work (40 min commute) to put my seat back and take a little nap or I would fall asleep at the wheel.  

A week before he came!  My nephew saw this and asked, "Is she having twinners?" Ha!

But, for the most part, life went on as normal.  I walked at the gym several times a week and made an effort to eat healthy, but I had my share of pregnancy pig-out moments.  I can remember pounding an entire package of Keebler fudge-sandwich cookies and scarfing Nilla wafers by the fist-full. 

Oh, and I passed out a few times, but beside that, my pregnancy was pretty uneventful.

Soon came my baby's debut. 

I was the genius who didn't realize I was having contractions.  I thought they would feel like getting an Indian burn on my arm, except inside of me.  (That's how someone had described it.)  But for three evenings, I kept feeling extreme pressure.   Like I had to go #2.  BAD.   I know this is TMI, but I just want all you future moms to know that if you think you're experiencing mega-constipation, hey, you just might be about to have a baby!   That is, if you're pregnant.  Ha.   

So, after spending another evening moaning on the couch miserably because of this "killer constipation," I went to bed.  As I lay there, it dawned on me, "Hmmmm, it's coming in waves!  There's a definite building then going a way feeling.   Maybe I'm not plugged up...dang, I think I am in LABOR!"   I figured I still had time, (I still didn't fully realize that I had been having contractions for a couple days) so I went to sleep while my husband stayed up late doing homework.  It was almost finals and he was SWAMPED with school, plus he had a cold. (Pretty inconsiderate of me to have a baby right then, I know!)   At some point he crawled into bed with me to get some sleep.  

A few hours later, I had to pee.   Not a strange reason for a pregnant women to wake up.  I sat up, then... Woooosh.  "Holy crap", I said out loud to my sleeping husband, "Either I just peed the bed, or my water broke."   He thought I peed. 

I grabbed the towel I kept next to my bed and waddled with it between my legs to the bathroom, and saw a tinge of blood in my undies.   And I was still a-leaking pretty good.   So I went to convince my hubby to get out of bed and take me to the hospital, because, "HELLO!? I am having a BABY!"   Poor guy, he only slept one hour.  I was scared, but pumped.   After all the classes and breathing techniques and stories and what-ifs and whens....it was finally game time! 

At the hospital, they got me all situated.  I wanted to deck anyone who tried to talk to me during contractions.  Then they gave me an epidural.  And I floated away to a warm and tingly heaven.  I lay waiting to dilate more, but I wasn't progressing much.  They told me that I had to have the baby that day, because my water broke, so they put me on Pitocin to get things going.  While that was working in me, I listened to my baby's heart beat.  I started feeling panicky every time it changed.  Suddenly, I was so scared for him.  If his beat slowed down, mine sped up.   When his heart beat slowed, the nurses--looking concerned--would change my position and lessen the Pit, and it would return to normal.  But, I wasn't progressing, so they had to turn the Pit back up again, then my babe's heart-beat would dip again.  I was squeezing Patrick's hand like crazy, and praying frantically in my head.  But, finally his heart beat stabilized, I was dilated enough and it was push time. 

I pushed for an hour and a half, the whole time thinking that my eyes and anus were about to pop out.  (I told the doctor that my goal was to poop all over the table.  I wanted to get my pooping-during-labor fear out in the open.  It helped me not worry about it, by addressing it! I highly recommend you tell your doc the same.  Just expect that he will give you a funny look.)   Also, I remember not being able to stop myself from grunting loud in every push.  Ha...it was kinda awkward, but oh well, I was pushing a BABY out of my BODY! 

While all this pushing was going on, Patrick (who was amazing and helpful) had to run out in between every contraction to blow his nose then wash his hands.  Poor man, what a crummy time to have a cold!  (The whole time I was in the hospital he had to wear a mask to hold Hayden.  Sad, huh?  Well, not as sad as it would have been to have a sick newborn!)

So, pushing.  Yeah.  I was getting WORN OUT.   His head just kept going in and out, in and out.   Finally my doc said, "I think we're going to need to cut you."  And I was like, "Ya think!?   Maybe you should have done that like AN HOUR AGO!"  I was less than charming at this point. 

Snip, Push, Sploosh! 

Out came my babe in a gush of fluids, then BAM--they laid him on top of me!  I was bawling from sheer exhaustion and relief as I held him.  

I was also scared, thinking, "Oh my gosh, HE'S HERE.  What now?"  Holy moly after 9 months of anticipating and preparing, our little squirmy, crying, puffy babe was here.  And he had a cone head like you've never seen!  Poor boy!  He looked like a little alien. 

Poor kid, look at his head!  Massaged into a cone for an hour and a half.

I was so overwhelmed and happy and SO incredibly relieved that he made it.  I just kept bawling and laughing.  It didn't seem real!  Here he was.  In my arms, and Patrick was next to me with tears in his eyes. 
  

Hayden, all cleaned up, singing opera.

With our week old babe!  And, don't you love those socks!

I was now a real-life momma with a real-life baby.  Weird.  But, amazing! 
-Amy 

P.S. Here's Part 2: the craziness we went through after bringing the baber home.  I promise it ends happy! :) 

P.S.S. Here's a little qutoe from Danielle (Design Mom), in her post telling about the birth of her SIXTH child!  Enjoy!  

"I've concluded there is no easy way to get that baby out of you.  I've had 6 births.  Half medicated, half un-medicated.  And really, either way is exhausting and painful.  Because this whole other person has to come out of your body.  The last few minutes of labor just about kill me. I basically throw a 3-year-old tantrum where I fuss and yell that I can't do it, that I don't want to do it, that I want it to stop, that I hate it, that it's too hard, etc.  And at the same time I have another voice in my head that's far more reasonable saying: you have to do it, you don't have a choice, it won't stop hurting till you do it, just do it."
-Danielle

I love how she puts it.  Ha!

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