Or the closest thing you’ll get to it on here. Not that I don’t want to share every detail with you, but I know that there are non-mamas out there who just don’t want to know that stuff. I used to be one of them. Until I got pregnant. And then I scoured every blog for a detailed account of labor so I’d know what to expect.
Yes, I could have just watched the video. THE video. You know, the one that keeps you up at night and keeps occurring in your dreams long after you vowed to forget it? But I couldn’t bring myself to.
So here’s the closest thing you’ll get to a birth story.
Unless you really want all the details, then I am more than happy to share. Just send me a quick email and I’ll send it to you. I know it helped me be a bit more prepared to read others’ tales beforehand. So I’m happy to pass on the knowledge.
Just not on here.
Jake was born one day past his due date. We had actually gone to the OB the day before to schedule an induction for a few days later. Apparently all the little guy needed was that eviction notice in order to get things moving. I spent most of the night awake and annoyed at the irregular contractions I was having. Until the annoyance turned into joy as they finally became regular and close together towards the morning.
The greatest joy being when I woke Adam up to tell him that I didn’t think he was going to have to go to work that day. Finally. It was baby day. A thought that hit me with excitement and nerves. Labor was going to happen. And it was going to happen TODAY.
My two biggest pieces of advice for mamas heading to hospital? Take a shower before you go and eat everything in sight on your way out the door. Labor is a long process and once you enter those hospital doors, all food is off limits.
At the hospital I did opt for the epidural as soon as it was offered. I know that’s not in everyone’s plan, and I commend you for wanting to give birth naturally if that’s important to you. But after suffering all night and most of the morning, I felt I had paid my dues in pain. And to be honest, I really wanted to take a nap.
They ended up giving me Pitocin in the afternoon after breaking my water and seeing that there was meconium (meaning the little bugger had pooped). The actually pushing part of labor was only 15 minutes for me since they had to get him out as soon as possible. I didn’t know it at the time (thank goodness) but his heart rate was dropping and they were worried he was going to inhale the meconium.
At 7:06pm there he was. A full head of hair and sneezing away. The next ten minutes were the longest of my life. Since he had been in distress, they immediately took him to the warmer and did a detail check of his vitals and respiratory functions. With about ten doctors in the room, well, there wasn’t a chance I could even get a glimpse of him.
It was torture. Hearing him cry (and sneeze a lot for some reason) and still not even knowing what he looked like.
But ten minutes later they finally declared him healthy and fit for mama’s arms.
And that’s where we just sat there and cried.
Everyone says their baby is perfect.
You can’t help it.
To you, they really are. All those months of waiting for his arrival, well, they couldn’t have prepared me for how big your heart feels in your chest when you see your baby for the first time. When you count ten fingers and ten toes and can’t stop staring at every little eyelash.
Every baby is perfect.
That’s the way God intended to make them.