Warning: this is a really long birff stowy, and baby talk has consumed our lives.
So let's see...it all started with high blood pressure and SWOLLEN feet. Big big big feet and ankles that hurt. The doc was worried about me so kept suggesting induction. Every time he'd mention it, I'd feel overly nervous and even more excited. One thing that comes with having babies - a whole schwack of feelings. So after a visit to the dr on Tuesday the 19th...we ended up in the hospital all day taking tests and getting monitored. They told me to come back the next day to get induced.
On Wednesday, we were called in the morning and told to come in around 9. We grabbed our bag full of snacks (didn't pack much else...typical) and rushed in. Ended up waiting around in a shared room until about 2...when they put my Cervidil in. That alone was uncomfortable enough for me...get your hands OUTTA there ...geez. They had to take that route cause I wasn't dilated at all.
I was told to wait around for a while and then to try going on walks. So we did. We were at the hospital down by the river so we went for a walk down there...with me in my robe and slippies...looking pretty classic! We got back at about 4 and I immediately started feeling things. Mostly contractions in my back. We were way too excited now that I think back...I should have felt the opposite if I knew what was coming...but I knew I'd meet my baby soon and that was over-ruling all the impending doom.
We waited...I told Alan every little twinge and pain I felt (he loves when I do that) and we giggled and laughed and ate treats real annoying-like while the people in the curtain next to us sat quietly and every so often documented "man, this SUCKS". They were a tad bit pessimistic.
I stopped laughing at about supper time. Things started hurting and our little walks down the hall and to the cafeteria were becoming impossible. This kept on all night. It hurt worse every contraction but was still bearable. The problem was that the pain was constant..I wasn't getting "real" contractions so I wasn't getting a break. Just really terrible back pain and constant little contractions. I sat in a jacuzzi for a few hours (glorious) and at about 1 in the morning I was BEGGING to get checked cause I was sure I was going somewhere with this. They checked me aaaaaaaand...I was 1 cm. I bawled. They gave me Morphine (which I had told myself I wouldn't take) and I fell asleep...miraculously.
I woke up at 3 with "real" contractions and tried to work through them myself so Al could get some sleep in the family room. It lasted about an hour and I knew I needed help. I was in too much pain to call Al so I managed between contractions (which were VERY close together) to text him "can you come back". We buzzed the nurse...begging her again to check me. She did. 2 cm. AAAH I was dying. They said I needed to be 4 before I could get an epidural. Some other nurse came and checked me and to my pleasant surprise accidentally broke my water while she was up in there. ha ha NICE! that meant I could go to the delivery room...and away we went!
side note: my water breaking = coolest feeling of my life.
so THEN I wanted my epidural...liiike, real bad. and i got it. and it was, liiike, real good. Alan claims after I got it I fell asleep and he ran to the car for a few things and called my mom (she had driven here the day before) and yada yada...but I don't remember that. A few hours passed and I started to feel my contractions pretty good...and felt some serious pushing urges. I ignored them cause I'm smart like that. When the nurse did a random check on me she was shocked...I was fully dilated and pretty much ready to go. Guess I should have told her sooner that I'd been holding the baby in for hours!
another side note: the nurse checking me when I was dilated = weirdest feeling ever. she could fit her whole hand up there!
The doctor was called, my mom showed up, about 20 more people came into my room...and I pushed...and pushed REALLY hard. My epidural took away a lot of the back labor I was having, but I could still feel my contractions really good which was kind of nice cause I knew when to push. I did it all pretty much on my own..no one even told me what to do...which I found interesting but also stressful cause I like being told what to do. I held my own legs and pushed when I felt I should while everyone cheered me on like a Raymond Comet!!!! (so that's how that feels)
I pushed for about 30 minutes and out Henry came. Holy EEEFFFFF that hurt. I don't remember what the pain was like all I remember is screaming at the top of my lungs similar to how I would scream if I was on a roller coaster cause I hate heights/rides/going fast.
They flopped him on me and said "it's a boy!" I was still screaming...like a spaz. And then I screamed at the doctors to take him because I couldn't hear him crying and all I knew was I wanted him to be ok and knew I didn't know how to make him ok. They took him, made him ok (he was fine...just really calm)...and I got to lay there happy for about 10 minutes, thinking I was done. The feeling of having that baby out of me was miraculous...and knowing I had a little boy of my own...well I can't even explain it. I was so happy and so excited. He was mine. I had a baby!
But then came the hard part. I won't go into details but they stitched me up for 2 hours...and I felt it all. And I bawled. And I hated it. I just wanted to hold my baby. Writing this makes me cry, so I'll stop!
I FINALLY got to relish in the glory of my baby (about 4 hours later) as they wheeled me to postpartum. I was a disaster. I was on serious drugs (they pumped me full of some strong meds to try and calm me down...which was deemed impossible), I had a catheter and an IV in, my hair was in a greasy rats nest atop my head (hadn't showered for days), my whole body was puffed up and swollen, the drugs made me look a lovely pale grey color, and I was continuously puking in a ginormous basin since I couldn't get it in one of those stupid kidney bowls...but the part I remember most is how special it was that I was the only one that was allowed to hold him while they wheeled me down the hall...cause he was mine. He IS mine. And I love him to death. I can't even explain the love I have for this little boy.
So Henry was born on June 21 at 8 in the morning. He's a perfect baby. He sleeps and eats like a boss and just plays and smiles at us (or maybe at his farts) when he's awake. I'm guessing this blog will transform into a documentation of Henry's cute little life, but I'm guessing that's ok with you cause he's SO CUTE. I can't stand how cute his little face is. So happy he's in our life.