The thrill of it all

A week has now passed since the introduction of my favorite person in to the world (sorry Morgan) and I'm still thinking, "what just happened?" although the only thing Morgan hears me say is "Can you get me...".

The whole birth process from start to finish was, well, confusing. I was there, it was happening to me, but I couldn't keep thinking that things like this happen to other people, not me. Even in the first few minutes of his life as I was laying there getting "worked on", I was still in a daze that I had even given birth. I pushed, I saw him come out, I heard his first cries...but it wasn't real. They wisked him to the side of the room to weigh him and check him out and when I heard him cry again a few minutes later I realized that I had actually forgotten about him, forgotten why I was laying on that table.

I had waited with much anticipation to be pregnant, to feel what it would be like to carry a child. Everything about it fascinates me. At every doctor's visit I was amazed each time that I was there for pregnancy check ups. I was extremely lucky that I didn't have any complications or many symptoms at all, which helped keep it as kind of an unrealistic experience.

So, when I checked in to the hospital at 8 AM on June 11th (also my grandfather's birthday) it was much of the same. I had woken up at 3:30 AM with bad cramps, thinking that it might be labor, but how was I supposed to know? I'd never been in labor before. They started to get stronger and closer together so I climbed in to our guest shower for a little relief. I then decided to draw a bath instead and cursed Morgan under my breath for breaking the drain plug, because now I had to maneuver myself to be sitting on the plug to keep the water from draining. Not very relaxing! Around 6 AM I decided that I was indeed in labor and went to wake Morgan. The pain was so intense and it felt as if I was having contractions every 2 minutes. I remember asking Morgan to get me my flip-flops, he asked me where they were, and I said "Right in front of me". I couldn't even move to get the shoes that were right there.

Unfortunately we still had a 45-50 minute drive to the hospital. Once there it took me about 2 minutes to walk the 30 feet from the car to the emergency room door. Once inside the woman took one look at me and just pointed to the labor check in area. I had to sit at a desk answering questions, verifying insurance information, etc. for what seemed like 10 minutes all while barely being able to speak. Finally the transport came for me and I was put in to a room where they monitored and checked me out to make sure I was in labor. At this point I was already 5 cm dilated. The nurse asked me to rate my pain (ha!), comparing it to the most pain I've ever been in. Even though it felt as though I was turning inside out, I responded "9 I guess, I mean, I've never been shot, and I imagine that would hurt pretty badly".

Since I was already 5 cm I was able to get an epidural as quickly as possible. I was given an IV and moved upstairs to a joint room since they were full and didn't have a room for me yet. The anesthesiologist was busy giving epidurals to C-section patients, but he finally made it around to me. I have to say that it wasn't bad. Sure the numbing needle burned when the medicine went in and my left leg was "shocked" three times (I didn't expect that), but I got an orange popsicle, apple juice and ginger ale for my time.

I finally got a room and labored in different positions until I was ready to push. Right before I started to push my mom showed up from Charlotte to offer her support before going to the waiting room. I pushed for 30 minutes, and pop, there he was. I guess I was in labor for a while (3:30 AM to 4:59 PM) but it didn't seem so bad. I didn't really have any expectations going in to labor nor was I too worried about it. Why bother? I knew that whatever happened the doctor wouldn't let anything bad happen. My doctor was actually on a cruise in the Bahamas (his nurse says he NEVER takes vacations) but I really liked the doctor who delivered Mace so it all worked out.

I had my moments of panic when we were moved in to the final recovery "Mother Baby" room and realized that the baby, my baby, was going to be in our room the entire time and the nurse would not be staying. I didn't know what to do! As the hours went by I got more comfortable to the idea, I think its because all he really did was sleep and the nurse was just a call away. The hardest part was the physical toll the birth had on my body.

I had just got comfortable with taking care of Mace when I was faced with the fact that we had to LEAVE THE HOSPITAL and the nurse was not coming with us. Cue another panic attack.

But, a week later (I can't believe it's been a week), we're all still alive. That is my goal going in to each day...survive. So far we are surviving and I'm happy with that, thrilled actually, and each day I wake up a little more from the fog of confusion and it's replaced with love and awe.