Let's rewind a few weeks to March 12, 2012. The big day my life would change forever. Despite being told at my 36 week appointment that I was already progressing (80%, 1, 0 station) and this baby was "low, low, low," it had taken five more weeks to arrive at this day. I should've known then that PDG would have quite the firecracker personality.
By this point I'd endured two false alarms, one requiring the ER and one demonstrating that I really didn't know what a contraction felt like... yet. I had passed my due date, had a non stress test, been assured baby boy had plenty of fluid and a healthy food source and still might come before a medical intervention.
My parents and Big Sis were in town, the nursery was good to go, my nerves kept me from sleeping well on this last night for months that no child would depend on my being awake to be fed. I woke up, put on perhaps the best maternity shirt ever, and headed to L&D.
I met my nurse, Hala, who was the most amazing person I'd meet until later that afternoon, and immediately I felt at ease. She took care of everything. She got me popsicles and juices. She showed me exactly where my contractions were on the screen. She told me I could have my epidural whenever since I'd come in already between 3-4cm. (I didn't wait long to take her up on that).
My family was pretty amazing too. Big Sis took pictures that I won't post of me looking exhausted already, Papa H came in and out of the room, while also making friends with the other families down the hall. Mama H took a quick nap to reserve energy for later. J-Man told jokes and saw to it that all needs were met. I was in fantastic hands.
Around 6cm Dr. S broke my water (so they say - I felt nothing) and then things got really moving. I'd been on the pitocin for four or five hours at that point, and my family left to get lunch. By the time they were back I was at eight, and not long after I had the strangest feeling. It was like I wanted to dance, or couldn't get comfortable, and I kept shifting around.
J-Man asked what was wrong, but I didn't have the right words.
"Um, I might need to push?" I asked. Or told. It was 3pm and I got the feeling the little guy would be out soon. Dr S confirmed I was "complete" and Hala had me do a practice push so that I'd know what I was doing. Turns out you can push wrong.
That was the beginning. I wasn't in pain, thank heavens, but I also didn't know I was in for the workout of my life! For two and a half hours my life slipped into intervals of a minute off, then three consecutive counting-to-ten, all-energy-in, no-holds-barred pushing. They had me on my side, then my other side, then on my stomach, then back on my back. Anything to get PDG's head and body facing down, not sideways. I was being commended for doing a great job and being "almost there" time and again, and with even more positivity while puking into some tiny blue bag. It was intense. Period.
I was going so long that Dr. S's shift ended and Dr. M came in for "the good stuff." By the time she told me she'd need to use the vacuum suction I told her to do whatever it took to get him out. I was pretty sure my body was going to give up on me soon, and I am not a quitter.
With the decision made, it was only a couple more contractions and there, lying on my deflated belly, they plopped my squishy, squealing, slimy PDG. Instantly I was in love.
I could see only his toes as J-Man cut the cord before they whisked him away. The room had become abuzz with nurses and family but I hadn't even noticed. All I remember is watching my J-Man watch our PDG. They were the only two people in my world right then.
Within an hour my whole family had held him, and he had attempted his first homemade meal, with success. Everything felt so natural, so perfect. I looked at my child and realized I had just been entrusted with a gift from God.
There were no other words. There will never be words.
One day, this precious little being will walk, and talk, and make decisions. One day he will create and lead. One day he will provide. For now, he is our responsibility, mine and J-Man's, and one we couldn't be happier to take on.
The nine weeks since then have been full of fantastic memories, siren-like cries, and a near doubling in his weight. I wish I could promise to record them all here, but I'm resolved to record what I can, and spend the other moments getting to know this budding personality of his.
It turns out, after all, dreams can come true
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