Wow! That's really the only way that I know to start this blog considering how much my life has changed since I last posted. Maybe i'll say it one more time for good measure...
wow!
Let's see, where do I begin? Well... I guess there was that whole
labor & delivery thing - that's a good jumping off point. As I mentioned, we kept hearing an abundance of "any day now" 's, but nothing ever seemed to happen. So, at 6:45am on January 30th, we loaded our bags in the car, filled the dog food bowls, and burned rubber to the hospital for an induction.
I was officially into a hospital gown and induced at 8am and so began our journey. Even though it lasted a whole day, it seems to have all gone by in about 2 hours. Did I black out from the lack of food and sleep? Possibly. By 10:45 I had received an epidural before even a handful of painful contractions. I'm sure I should thank my lucky stars that there was minimal suffering but it does take some of the glory away that I can't, one day, look at Sully and say, "do you know how many hours of pain and misery I went through for you to be here?" That being said, the pain of the actual epidural was quite enough for one day. Kudos to any woman (or man) out there who has had the pleasure.
But moving on... several large pricks (and what felt like a steel rod being shoved up my back) later, I was completely numb from the lower boob region on down leaving me completely helpless. I remember laying there thinking, "how in the HELL am I going to push? I can't even lean up enough to reach that tv remote that i'm dying for." (even labor wasn't enough to keep me away from the Lifetime daytime line-up)
So there I am - hair fixed, store bought & monogrammed hospital gown on, and the antics of
Will & Grace in the back ground - when I feel something funny down below. Is this normal? What is this? Should I tell the nurse I have to use the bathroom? Oh, it's just a little gas. That's cool. My normal M.O. would be to hold it in with the good ol' butt clench (and don't act like you don't know what i'm talking about). Call me crazy but I just can't comfortably fart in front of people - even John who, let's face it, is certainly not modest and has seen me in just about every compromising situation since I found out I was pregnant.
And I'm in labor for crying out loud! A little fart here and there is to be expected, right? Still, I just wasn't comfortable so I proceeded to a butt squeeze, only, I couldn't squeeze. Total and complete numbness. Crap! I could feel it working it's way out and panic was over-taking. Then it happened... and I swear to God the look on John's face was priceless. To get out, that poor little fart had to work it's way through the pounds of goop my doctor had slathered in my never regions, creating a sound that was less like a fart and more like the rumbling of a volcanic eruption. Jaw to the floor, John dropped the phone he was talking on and said, "holy shit, was that a fart?". God, how embarassing. Unfortunately that was the first of many and none seemed to make their arrival when I was alone.
4-1/2 hours, 5 popsicles, 4 visitors, & 1 sunflower later there had been very little progress. The baby was not moving down the way he should be (stubborn!) and was also having negative reactions to the pitocin that they used to induce. Apparently, I have a narrow pelvic bone. Who knew? Baby's head was just too big to make it through so the doctor recommended a c-section. Although it really was not the way I had envisioned the whole thing going, at that point, I was tired, hungry, uncomfortably numb, and cursing the bed to which I felt like a chained prisoner. With a nod and a wink, John and I said "okay".
A quick shave and morphin drip and we were off to the surgical room that, during lamaze I referred to as "the room I will never have to go into". I guess someone showed me! As they wheeled me out and down the hall, my Dad popped out from around a corner with a video camera telling me to smile. At the time, I really wanted to toss a bed rail at his head, but now that i've gotten to watch the video I couldn't be happier that he recorded that moment so I can always have it.
I remember laying on that table feeling like I had been beamed up into a space ship and the aliens were about to operate on me. I was on morphin (for one), the lights were bright, the room was ice cold, I was layed out on a table with arms outstretched, and I could hear the muffles of people talking but couldn't see anyone due to the big blue curtain draped in front of my head. I wondered if I was completely naked from boobs down to toes and my whole pregnant body was just spread out for all the world to see. Probably so.
John was right there beside me, holding my hand, telling me he loved me as the doctors moved in. I could feel them jerking my insides around but never felt an ounce of pain. It took them about 20 minutes to prep me and actually get down to where the baby was. I asked the doctor if, while they were in there, they could lipo some fat out. The whole room went into an uproar of laughter. The doctor then told me that I was about to feel a heaviness on my chest from them pushing the baby down; then he would be here. Lord the anticipation!
And then... heaviness on the chest. "The head's out". "Left shoulder out". "Right shoulder out". "He's heeeeeere". I could feel every inch of his little body being pulled out of mine. Then, I heard his first little cry. It was the most indescribable moment of my life and I instantly began to cry (i'm even getting emotional just sitting here writing about it). Honestly, if I could re-live any single moment of my entire life, that would be it. I quickly asked the doctor's if he had 10 fingers, 10 toes, and a penis. Yes!
When they brought him around the curtain and I got to see his little face for the first time, my heart just wanted to explode. His cries sounded so sweet and innocent and all I wanted to do was hold him in my arms.
I had to be sowed back up, so John went with the baby to the nursery. The 25 minutes following felt like an eternity. But, they passed, and I was carted off to the recovery room where John and Sully were not far behind. As they were taking me to recovery, my parents were waiting in the hall and I remember my Dad saying, "he's so beautiful, Courtney."
Beautiful he was! My sweet, healthy, beautiful baby boy came into this world 7 pounds 9 ounces, 20-1/2 inches long, a few wisps of hair, and not a single blemish on his perfect little skin. An angel.
Since there is much more to write, a baby crying in the background,
and I have already written a novel, i'll save the rest for a rainy day. But for now, mommy, daddy, and baby are doing great!
