There’s no better story than a birth story …
As I write this on the eve of my son’s 4th birthday, I’m reflecting on his birth.
We chose not to find out the sex, which made the reveal more exciting. The family had wagers going on the day, weight, and sex of our bundle of joy, and someone would win some money.
A week before my due date, there was elevated protein in my urine which can mean signs of preeclampsia. To ensure I was okay, my doctor sent me to the hospital that evening to be checked out. I was nervous because she was gone for the weekend; I was being looked after by the doctor on call who was relaying information to her. My husband didn’t pack a bag and was cool and confident we wouldn’t be staying, and I wouldn’t be induced.
He was right; after a few hours of monitoring everything and rechecking my urine, we were sent home— though not before a trip to Uncle Bill’s Pancake House. I craved waffles and pancakes my entire pregnancy.
I confessed to my parents as we were on the way home what had happened. At some point throughout my pregnancy, I made the decision I wouldn’t tell anyone if I was going to the hospital; I would wait until after he or she had arrived. My husband looked at me like I had numerous heads but respected my wishes.
I went back to the doctor’s office the following Monday, just three days later, to be checked. This time there was a concern with my blood pressure— it was elevated. Of course, I was overly anxious as I was about to give birth to my first. While nothing alarming, I was going to be scheduled by the end of the week to be induced.
This time I had to tell someone, which was my boss at the time, because I was officially going on maternity leave. My parents were told I had another check-up, but I probably wasn’t going to be going through the weekend.
Thursday, February 22, at 8 pm, I checked in to the hospital, having no idea how soon I would meet our little one. I put on a hospital gown, got hooked up to all the monitors, and an IV was placed.
At 11 am the following day after some tricks to start labor didn’t work, I was given Pitocin. Still, at this point, no one knew I was at the hospital. I made a quick call to my mom to tell (lie to) her that the appointment went fine and I’ll be rechecked in a couple of days. I managed to do this in the few minutes of being checked on by the nurses.
Later in the afternoon, my water broke, and things moved a little quicker. It was also the time to finally get the epidural. It’s amazing how stronger those contractions are once there’s no cushion in there. It wasn’t until later that evening at 10 pm, and watching the 2018 Winter Olympics, that it was time to push. Since it was our first I had no idea it would be just me, my husband, and one nurse for the majority of the time. Both were champs during the whole process.
When it was finally time for our little squirrel to arrive, the room filled with my doctor and her team. Cheering and applause as I pushed, and then HE was here. 2:29am on February 24th our son entered this crazy world. He was perfect. When it was a reasonable hour in the morning, I called my parents letting them know their grandson had arrived. Surprise!
Everyone says how your life will change once you have a child, but until the tiny human is here you have no idea. Our lives have been on this wild ride for 4 years now. He didn’t sleep through the night until he was 18 months old. He was on an expensive formula due to a dairy protein allergy. He was a chill baby who ate every three hours like clockwork. Some of my favorite moments were feedings between him and I in the middle of the night. And that baby smell! Amiright?
It’s cliche, but the days are long and the years fly by. Cheers to motherhood.
