Letters to Pumpkin - The Birth Story

Friday Night, June 29

I had been feeling a little crampy low in my stomach the night before.  I felt absolutely great on Friday. We went to bed at about midnight that night.  An hour and a half later I awoke and sat straight up in bed, my water was breaking. 

Saturday, June 30

1:30 a.mm, I am in the bathroom as my water is breaking, Dad is frantically asking questions, is this really happening?  What do we do?  Do we go to the hospital?  I told him to call our doctor's office who advised us to yes, go to the hospital.  We packed the last minute things that needed to go in our bags I had waiting next to our beds and were off.  I was feeling no contractions and no pain.  I was just excited, excited, excited.  We drove in the darkness to the quiet hospital and checked in.  They checked me out and told me I was only a fingertip dilated.  That dialed down my excitement a little, this was clearly not going to be a quick event.  Oh well, I figured by lunch time I would have my baby in my arms. 

After my iv was in and we were settled, they told us to get some sleep and if I was not having contractions by 7a.m. they would give me pitocin to get it started.  I laid awake in the bed, way too excited and a little nervous about the impending pain that I would inevitably be experiencing any time.  7:00 a.m. came and still no contractions, they started pitocin.  The doctor came in and told us that it could be a while since I was not dilated much and that we could have 20 hours ahead of us.  I thought in my head how that would not, could not happen.  I knew that it would happen soon. 

The contractions started soon after the pitocin, they were small, dull aches at first like menstrual cramps and were so infrequent that I hardly felt anything at all.  Progressively they started to feel more like a tightening and squeezing and lasted a little longer.  They upped the pitocin and they started getting closer together.  By 3:00 p.m. I was feeling strong contractions.  They were tolerable but bordering on the point of me not being able to handle it anymore.  The best way I can describe it is as if your stomach had arms and someone took each arm, stretched it across the body and pulled - each time pulling farther and farther out until the arms were about to be pulled off of the body.  I hope that makes sense.  I came up with this analogy in my agony between contractions, so I feel confident that it is a pretty adequate description. 

They were now 3 minutes apart and as I said, getting to be too much.  I felt confident that they should check me now because I had to be dilated to 10 now.  They checked me and I was only a 2.  This is the point in which I broke down and cried out of frustration and exhaustion and demanded an epidural.  I am not quite sure I can adequately sing the praises of an epidural.  Instantly the pain melted away and I felt like myself again.  I was able to relax, and even float in and out of sleep. 

At around 9 p.m. they told me that I was a 10 (finally) but that they wanted me to wait about an hour before pushing.  As they were looking at the fetal heart monitor they saw that the baby's heart had started to accelerate during contractions and then drop off after.  They thought the baby might be on the cord so they had me try a few contortionist positions and thankfully it worked to get the baby to move off the cord. 

At 10:45, I started pushing.  It was very easy (thanks to Mr. Epidural) and they told me that I was pushing very well and that it shouldn't be long and they called the doctor in.  They were able to see the baby's head and told us that there was lots of dark hair.  I was getting so excited, the end was near and I would finally see my baby!  After what felt to me like 10 minutes, they informed me that I had been pushing for 2 hours and that it was getting close to 24 hours since my water broke and that the baby had to come out within 24 hours or there would be a risk of infection.  We decided to do a c-section.  I was a little upset that I couldn't push the baby out, but by that point of not having much sleep, being physically exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed, I wouldn't have cared if they took the baby out of my head, I just needed this to be over. 

The rest is kind of a blur:  I was prepped and put on the table, Dad came in and the surgery began.  I couldn't feel anything but tugs and pulls.  I heard them announce they had the baby and heard this little persistent and not too happy cry and the tears started at the corners of my eyes.  I heard them say "It's a..." and Dad finished with "boy."  I looked above the curtain and saw you - I already knew you, knew that you would be a sweet, small little guy with tons of dark hair and beautiful face.  You were perfect and I couldn't believe that you were my baby, my son.  It's still something I have to pinch myself everyday that I am the mom to this beautiful little guy. 

It's crazy how instantly you see this little person and you feel an instinctive love and a need to comfort and protect.  It's clear that life is different now, now there is someone so much more important and its a wonderfully scary feeling.  Life is not predictable, sleep deprivation has kicked in, I can't take a shower for more than 2 minutes, and yet I can't shake the feeling that this is the best part of life.  Nate, you are one sweet baby and life will never be the same...it is blissfully and immeasurable better.  I look at your precious face and think of all the great moments in life you have ahead.  We can't wait to share those moments with you.

I started these letters before I was even pregnant with you - through agonizing months of trying to get pregnant, fertility treatments, morning sickness, 24 hours of labor, 2 hours of pushing and a c-section, you are finally here.  It was all worth it and more.  I couldn't imagine it any other way.  I love you Pumpkin - Nate (I keep calling you that...you are going to think your name is Pumpkin!)  We are so happy to have you here.  This is the story of how you came into the world and how much we were excited for you to get here.  Can't wait to share the rest of our lives with you. 

Love
Mom and Dad.