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Thursday, January 20, 2011

Oliver's Birth Story

He was 3 days late. That doesn't seem like a lot now when I look back on it, but at the time it felt like FOREVER. I was Huge, capital H. My back was killing me, I couldn't sleep, eating seemed pointless with my constant nausea and dizziness, and I was emotionally *done* being pregnant. I had been through so many things that year, the loss of our cat, having to give away another, my parents selling my childhood home, moving 5 times! And the everyday struggles of money, jobs and being responsible for another life...it was a lot...and I was ready for it to all be over with the birth of the most important thing in my life.

I was 40 weeks pregnant there and forcing the half smile on my face for Dave's sake and sanity. He had been amazing, through everything. I couldn't have been more content, yet wanted the change my body was about go through SO bad I could have cried...and did... A LOT. I was ready.
Oliver was due October 14th, and yet before the day even came I was told because of his umbilical cord being attached to the placenta in the wrong spot, I was going to HAVE to be induced on the 15th. I didn't want to HAVE to do anything. If I could go back and change my whole birth plan around...I would. The whole thing was bright, and loud, and forced feeling. I never really felt *comfortable*.

Photobucket Pictures, Images and Photos

Friday: I was given cervadil to dilate me. At 40 weeks I was barely 1 cm. The room was too warm, there was a lady giving birth in the next room, she was beyond loud. I woke up at 3 am with pain, I was dilating, slowly but I could feel him moving down more and more. 3am turned into 4 am as I listened to another woman screaming during an exam. Nothing was comforting and I just wanted to be in my own bed with my Dave, silent and cool, with all of my cherished things around. I couldn't even get up to pee...bedpan it is then...

Saturday: 8am I was induced with pitocin. It was cold and I was so glad I brought a fleece blanket. The contractions came fast. Within 45 minutes I was breathing through pain, sweating while freezing and wishing I could have just a muffin, toast, ANYTHING to eat that wasn't liquid and drowning in ice. By 5pm I wussed out, the pain wasn't the problem, pain never is, the pressure got to me, it was unbearable. His little head was rocking in my pelvis and he was pushing his way out...slowly. I got and epidural...5 times..they just couldnt get it in right, the pinching pain was annoying and I was frustrated with everything. My mom held my hand through most of it, it was comforting. Finally I was set up an hour and a half later. It was bliss to no longer feel pressure, but it was weird because in a way I liked the pressure. It was a way of Ollie telling me "I'm here mom, I'll see you soon." I fell a sleep and my parents drove back home again, it was gonna be awhile. I was finally far enough along for my water to be broken, and with a warm rush I was getting mentally prepared. But I was no where close. I slept through the Phillies game I wanted to watch, but the pressure was returning and I was exhausted. By 3 am I was in pain again...

Sunday: I woke up at 4am to my doctor giving me an exam. I was fully dialated. I had been in labor for 34 hours and I was losing my courage. At 6 my nurse had me push. She said I needed to do better. My mind was telling me "DO THIS!", my body was telling me "you're exhausted, sleep". At 6:30 I was given demoral and fell a sleep. At 7:00am a new nurse came in, she was REALLY excited and it woke me up. She wanted me to push, I laughed. I couldn't feel my contractions...no pressure...just pain and uncomfortableness. I started anyway. She grabbed
my left foot, Dave my right, and I grabbed behind my knees and put my chin to my chest. It felt good, better, relieving. I threw up...twice. By 730 my doctor came in, felt where Ollie's head was...made a joke...he didn't think I could do this..and for a second neither did I. I thought, " I'll show him!" I bared down my weight and shifted, and pushed. The nurse could see his head and showed Dave. I was ready, he was ready, our son was ready. I pushed till 7:50, she yelled "STOP!..I have to get the nursery staff and your doc, he's here!". My doctor got scrubbed and a bunch of people came in the room. I couldn't see their faces, i didn't have my glasses on, it was blurry and sweaty and hot. The doctor came to my bed I told him I needed to keep going, he said to push. I pushed. I gritted and grunted and pushed. I gripped my knees with my sweaty hands and with a final push, I felt a giant relief, pressure gone, pain gone, and just silence...I waited...they put him on my stomach.. I was overcome. Dave cried and I just stared in amazement...he was beautiful. He was perfect. He was ours. He was mine. And I loved him. Dave cut his cord and they rushed him away. They cleared out his lungs, he cried...I cried. I was silent. Amazed. I texted everyone. Dave called everyone. We were stunned he finally was here!

and he was amazing...

we couldn't stop holding him.

our little boy was here.

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