When we finally arrived in our room I was in a great deal of pain, roughly 6-7/10, and contractions were coming more frequently. I was begging for an epidural & my nurse finally informed me that my OB had ordered one and the anesthesiologist (who was beyond awesome by the way) was on the way. In the meantime my parents began to arrive and were just standing around the bed looking at me. The way they stared and my overall helplessness due to pain left me feeling like a corpse in a coffin...just lying there while they gathered around talking about how good I looked, which, PS, I DID NOT look good. Remember how I chose NOT to wash my hair that morning? Big mistake. I know that's wildly morbid, but that's surely how it felt! It should be noted how INCREDIBLE my husband was at that time, rubbing my back and helping me breathe through contractions instead of fighting them the way I had been. He was amazing then, and after, and now. I'm not going to start talking about how blessed I am when it comes to my husband because I'll never stop, but just know that I pray our son will be just like him--he came through in a way even greater than I had imagined.
It felt like hours later, but it was probably mere minutes, and the super nice anesthesiologist arrived to give me the perfect epidural: I felt no pain, but I was able to feel the sensation to push later on. He was so kind and the process was so easy I swear I could've kissed him right in the mouth! I was so fearful of the epidural for no reason at all! Shortly after that my wonderful OB arrived and broke my water, which could only mean it was time to get this show on the road!!
I dilated to 10cm almost immediately after my water was broken, however Jonas wasn't quite ready yet and was sitting at -2 station meaning he had quite a long way to descend before I started pushing. So we waited. And waited. And waited. The nurses repositioned me and Jonas kicked the tocometer (monitors heart rate & contractions) and we repositioned again. This went on until about 2100 (9pm), when my sweet nurse Jessica (also awesome) determined I was ready to start pushing!! Hallelujah, let's meet this boy!!!
By this point my in-laws had arrived, as well as my brother Trevor & sister-in-law to be Robin, my Granny, Aunt Cheryl, Uncle Bud, Aunt Kym, Aunt Dee, and Aunt Sharon...forgive me if I've forgotten anybody, the night is hazy and I hardly remember the world before Jonas at all at this point, let alone the night of his birth. For a fleeting second I considered allowing my Mom & Tracy, my mother-in-law, to stay in the room for the delivery, a decision I was adamantly against prior to this night. It had been a hot debate, but as always The Lord is sovereign & it is a sheer miracle that they were not around for the drama that ensued. So we kicked everybody out and the action began.
As I mentioned earlier, my epidural took away the pain, but left me with the ability to feel contractions and assist with pushing, so at this point I proudly grabbed one leg in each hand, thanked God for the flexibility that only comes with 18 years of dance, and got to work. I pushed like a champ and pooped myself like 843 times, and I was so proud. I even made Tyler get out the camera and take a picture of this spectacular pushing I was doing. I was a rock star and I knew it, a fact that baffled me as I whine when my hair gets pulled or I stub my toe...I NEVER expected to handle childbirth so easily, even with an epidural.
We pushed for roughly 45 minutes before Jessica (awesome night nurse) mentioned she was starting to see, "a little more blood than I feel comfortable with," so she decided to call in my spectacular OB to check it out. At this point I was calm, I'm a nurse so who cares about a little blood? I had no idea what was about to happen.
My OB came in the room with another RN and an urgency I hadn't been expecting. She was sternly giving verbal orders to Jessica, and furrowing her brow at the blood I seemed to be spewing. She pulled on shoe covers and was pulling the bed apart quickly and tossing the pieces to the side. My sweet OB typically has the most calming demeanor, so I knew something wasn't right. I was ok until she asked my nurse to call for respiratory therapists, "for possible infant resuscitation." WHAT. RESUSCITATION?! My precious, perfect miracle may not be breathing? She also asked for the hemorrhage box, which I knew from my ER days was full of medications that aren't used on the regular and are meant to control heavy bleeding. This was bad...but my labor had been going so well? What went wrong?? I would've given anything to NOT be a nurse at that point, to be at least slightly more oblivious to the goings on in the room.
I didn't have a birth plan. I know myself well enough to know that when I plan things they never go the way I have lined out in my head so plans are useless. I didn't have a plan, I only knew I didn't want a vacuum or forceps assisted delivery, and I could be ok with everything else. My OB had me put my feet in the stirrups and began to finally start talking directly to me. She explained, briefly, that I was bleeding significantly, which she feared was a terminal abruption, and, "We have to get this baby out NOW." I'll never forget the sound of her voice when she said that. She was scared, I was scared, we were all scared. The anxiety in the room was palpable. She explained that she was going to use the vacuum on his head to pull him out (cue the voice in my head screaming NOOOOOOOOOOO) and briefly explained how it worked. In the meantime the respiratory therapists had arrived so we were ready to roll.
Something inside of me changed. Call it mother instincts, but suddenly I no longer mattered. At all. He wasn't even here yet, but I had already forgotten about everything except the desire to protect him. I said a quick prayer in my head, something basic like, "Please God, please protect this baby. Take me if you need me, but please let me see him and please let him be ok." And then I pushed. HARD. I held my breath and I closed my eyes, and I forced his body outside of mine. There's something so magical about birth--even a medicated birth--that you can't even describe. It's so raw and so very human...so incredibly, undeniably special and miraculous, I'm still so grateful for the experience. I pushed twice and at 2201(10:01pm) I heard the most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life: Jonas's loud, long, STRONG cry!
I knew he was ok when I heard my OB say, "Praise God." She allowed Tyler to cut the cord and she laid that beautiful, perfect, full-of-life, healthy baby boy on my chest. It's a moment I'll never forget and one that still seems so surreal in my head. It's the moment my family became 3 instead of 2. It's the moment we completely died to ourselves and the world began to revolve around Jonas. It's the moment I gained my purpose for living. The moment I became Mommy.
My boy was here! 7lbs and 8oz of screaming perfection:
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| My perfect miracle boy! |
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| First family photo! (Mama should've washed that hair!) |
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| My boys, my whole heart outside of my chest |
The events after I met my son were much less special and mostly scary, but I'll write more on that later. For now, bask with me in the joy that miracles are possible...I know because I'm holding one.
XOXO,
Jonas's Mommy
