I find myself wanting him to grow faster, so that I can teach him things, and hear him call me mama, and even more so, hear him tell me that he loves me. I know, I hear it every day, multiple times a day, "They grow up so fast, cherish these moments!" Believe me, I am. If you know me, you will know that I am a bit obsessive with taking pictures. Every second of my Childs life has been and will be documented. I've been blinding him with flashes from the moment he was born.
I think about how drastically different my life is now. I have a seven week old child that completely depends on me. Once you have your child, there is no "you" anymore, from day one he has come first, and I’m finding out that’s how it always will be. You're hungry? Too bad. He's hungrier. You have to pee? Hold it sister, his diaper is exploding. Then he starts to cry for food, and then the phone rings-it’s the pediatrician calling to confirm his appointment. So you finally sit down to maybe relax, he's in his swing, smiling and cooing at his mobile, you go down to get yourself a QUICK snack, maybe some crackers and a Diet Coke, but the moment you reach your hand in for a bite, every time without fail, he screams. He's hungry again. Or maybe not? Maybe he's tired of being in the swing, and wants to be held. Stick a passie in his mouth and pat his back until he goes back to sleep. Pfew, ok that worked he stopped crying. So you lay him down in his crib, while setting him down you notice you probably could use a shower. Sixty seconds later, you’re clean. Jump out, check on baby, and sprint back to bathroom. It’s a miracle! Your hair is washed and blow dried, mascara is on (one eye), and you maybe had time to rub on some deodorant, all in 15 minutes. He wakes up and this time is for sure hungry, while giving him the bottle, your back is aching from sitting up/ standing up/crouching down/moving in positions you never thought your body could, you look down at that little face and all you see is pure joy. He's happy as can be; he with his mama, clean diaper, clean clothes, and has his bottle. Pick him up; put him over your shoulder, a few pats on the back to burp, and BAM projectile vomit right into your freshly washed hair. Warm milk trickles down your neck and shoulders, yet you still don't seem to care. No matter what he does, you love him. I sometimes go in and out of reality, I’ll be driving down the road with the windows rolled down, music up loud, and look back on my old life, how easy it was, and again, I thought it was so hard. I was completely free, did whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and sometimes yes, I do miss it. However, there is nothing in this world that compares to the feeling of having a child. When he lifts his little head up and gives me a big grin, I am instantly cured. I know that once I start working, get my own place, and start having a social life again, I will feel a little more normal.
I am looking at the clock now; Pearson has been asleep for 20 minutes. Its 6AM, and he just took a bottle. I should be sleeping. I start to think back to the day I went into labor with him, how excited and nervous I was. I remember it was a little past 12 that afternoon, February 8, 2010, and I was walking into my mom’s room to grab something, when all of a sudden I felt a gush of warm fluid running down my leg, I thought for a second, did I just wet myself? No no no, this was it, the moment I had been so anxiously awaiting, my water had finally broken! I ran into the kitchen, pants at my ankles, fluid following me each step I took, and called my mom’s name. “MOM GET IN HERE! MY WATER! IT BROKE!” She called the hospital, told them I wasn’t having contractions or any type of pain, they told us as long as I came in that day, I’d be fine. So, I got in the shower, shaved my legs, and washed my hair. My mom was making calls, and loading the car up. I got dressed, did my hair and makeup, and we were on our way. I looked in the back and noticed the empty car seat, “This is it!” I thought to myself. Once we got on the toll road, I notice the speedometer, we were doing 100. Again, I wasn’t in any pain, the only discomfort I was experiencing was the Amniotic Fluid that kept leaking from me! We pulled up, and walked into Dr. Seeker’s office. They checked me out, I was only 1 CM dilated, and 70% effaced-In other words, a long very way to go.
They sent me up to Labor & Delivery; the room was gorgeous, very home-y feeling. I unpacked all of my things, and got into my hospital gown. A slew of nurses came in and met me. A few hours passed, still no contractions. I was comfortable, and laughing, no pain at all. Friends and family came in to see me, Honor and I walked the halls of L&D as fast as we could in hopes of bringing on some contractions, but had no luck. Alex and Chelsea arrived; we all sat and talked, watched The Bachelor, and trashed talked Vienna. I kept waiting for pain, and I had none!
At about ten o’ clock, I started getting hungry-that morning at eleven I made myself a spinach and egg white omelet. I asked the nurse for food, she said I could have Jell-O or anything clear. Ummm, super. Jell-O? Clear liquids? Great. I needed energy to push this baby out, how was this going to work? Dr. Seeker came in and told me that if my contractions didn’t pick up, they were going to have to induce labor. By midnight I still was at a 1, so the nurse came in and said it was time to induce me. They shot me up with Pitocin, which induces labor and increases the strength and duration of the contractions. They started me on a low dose; I remember feeling like it was never going to happen, like the baby was just going to stay inside of me forever. Four hours later, they came in and asked me what my pain was on a scale of one to ten, one being nothing and ten feeling like someone is ripping your arm off. “Well, I definitely don’t feel like anyone is ripping my arm off, if I am calmly answering this question, um I guess my pain is at a two?” Frustrated, and tired, but unable to sleep, I patiently awaited what I was told to be the most excruciating pain of my life.
Well at about 4AM my pain went from a 2 to a 10 instantly. Imagine someone taking a sharp knife and stabbing you over and over again in your stomach for ninety seconds non-stop. That’s what I was feeling. At first I thought, I can do this, no problem, it hurts but I’m tough….NO NO NO, From 4 AM to 9 AM I was in what they call the Hard Labor Stage. When I tell you I thought I was going to die, I mean it. The problem with Pitocin is that it makes your contractions as strong as they can be, and as painful as they can be. Misery. I somehow stayed calm; I closed my eyes and breathed through each one. At one point the pain made me sick, and I started vomiting. I didn’t think I was going to survive. My birthing coach Ashlie, mom’s Jame’ & Jennifer, and A’s mom Jackie were all in there with me. They were telling me what I great job I was doing, and telling me to breathe, and that I was going to be ok. I tried to stay positive, and kept thinking to myself-“He’s coming, it’s all going to be so worth it, just keep doing what you’re doing, you can do this!”
After a long night of unbearable pain, no sleep, no food-just ice chips and Pitocin, I was on my last leg. Dr. Seeker came into the room, I was gripping onto the hospital bed, my eyes were closed, I smelled his cologne and heard him say “Knock Knock?” He came over to my bed and greeted me with a smile and said “We’re having a baby today!” (Secretly I wished I was having your baby Dr. Seeker-but let’s not get ahead of ourselves) He told me that if I was ready and wanted to, that he could go ahead and order the epidural for me. “YES. ORDER IT.” I firmly answered. He said it would be ready in about fifteen minutes. (Keep in mind, I’m still having extremely painful contractions every two minutes) TWO HOURS later, the Anesthesiologist finally arrives with the epidural. I was ready to kill someone. At this point it was just me and Jennifer in the room, they asked me to curl up tightly over my pregnant abdomen, as they injected the 5 inch needle into my spine. Literally less than five minutes later, I was a different woman, numb from the waist down-I was back to smiling and talking with everyone. At about 11 AM they came in and checked my cervix to see if I had made any progress. FINALLY! I was 7 cm dilated and 90% effaced. A few more hours and I would have my son in my arms. I wasn’t in anymore pain, and I couldn’t feel my legs. The labor had gone on so long, that I started having convulsions from the drugs, even though I wasn’t hurting, the convulsions were almost as bad as the pain I was in before the epidural.
Two hours later, it was just me and my mom in the room; I was lying on my side talking to her as she was watching my contractions take place on the monitor. She’d say here comes a big one, I felt NOTHING. Suddenly the monitors started beeping, and a random nurse who I’d never seen before came rushing in, she flipped me on my back, and threw an oxygen mask on my face-not explaining anything to me, just yelling the word “FAILURE” as she was calling for back up. I looked at my mom and her face was a white as a ghost, I was panicking, and tears were slowly rolling out of my eyes. WHAT is happening?! The baby’s heart rate went down, and didn’t come back up for a long time….I was unaware of this, I just kept hearing that crazy nurse screaming “FAILURE FAILURE!” Terrified and confused, I thought I was losing him, I couldn’t feel my body, and couldn’t figure out if I was dreaming or imagining this. Finally it came back up, and everything was fine.
After that, they came in and checked me one last time, I had gone from a 7 to a 10 in 30 minutes, and I was 100% effaced. My nurse paged my doctor, and a loud message went on the speakers throughout L&D, “Paging Dr. Stork, Dr. Stork to room 208.” (This is a hospital call to the doctor when you’re ready to start pushing) My team of coaches all grabbed my legs and I started pushing when they told me to. I literally felt nothing, they would say, “OK here we go, a big contraction is coming on!” I just told myself to push as hard as physically possible. My convulsions were out of control, I was dizzy, and extremely exhausted. I did this for about 20 minutes, and once Dr. Seeker arrived, I gave him five more pushes and out came my little miracle. Everyone said, “What’s his name?!” I softly said Pearson with a smile, and heard an “awww “from the grandmas. I felt a rush of excitement throughout my body, and then they placed his squirmy little body on my chest, I kissed him immediately and told him, “Hi!” I was in love. I kept looking at him thinking, no way this isn’t my baby, I didn’t just do this. They cleaned him up, swaddled him tightly in his dinosaur print receiving blanket, and set him under the heat lamp. The first person to see him after me and the grandma’s was his daddy. He walked in and looked at me, smiled, and went right over to P. He picked him up and said over and over again, “He’s beautiful.”
25 hours of labor, and two weeks later...
Those first few weeks with P were the most difficult. I seriously did not sleep more than thirty minutes a day.. I was beyond exhausted, very emotional, scared, and happy all at the same time. He was so skinny and fragile; I made my mom change his diapers for the longest time because I was scared I was going to hurt him. My milk hadn’t come in yet and I was constantly feeding him. Seriously, there was never a time during the day/night where I wasn’t breastfeeding. It was breaking my heart and stressing me out because he was always screaming, and I knew something was wrong. I finally called his pediatrician and explained what was happening, and asked what kind of formula they recommended, and went out immediately and bought some. Our lives were never the same after that day. He blew up! Gained weight and was finally satisfied after feedings.
Now our days are still long, and are never easy, but he is worth every bit of sweat and tears I’ve had in the past eleven months.
Before I got pregnant, and I thought about motherhood, I always pictured it being a breeze, I pictured it coming so natural to me, little did I know…
