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God has blessed me tremendously with an amazing husband, Doug, and two gorgeous little boys, Gavin and Joey. It has always been a dream of mine to have a large family but God may have other plans. I had a series of 6 consecutive early miscarriages when trying for baby #2. We are currently trying for baby #3 after our 7th miscarriage. I am faithful that God's plan is perfect, even when I am not happy about it. I love comments and meeting new followers so please don't be shy!

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Thursday, January 6, 2011

Becoming a Mom

I had a very normal pregnancy with Gavin. I gained too much weight but I stayed healthy other than that. I was due on February 13th, 2008 and, of course, heard for 8 months from anyone who asked my due date, "Maybe he will be a Valentine's baby!" I always thought that would be neat but I knew how unreliable due dates are so I didn't want to get my hopes set on any one particular day.

On Sunday night the 10th, I started having gas pain. At least that is what I thought it was. I think I knew deep down that it was probably the start of labor but was sort of in denial. I was no longer working so on Monday I sat around on the couch, doing as little as possible, noticing that my gas pains were starting to happen in a sort of pattern. It wasn't painful really. Just noticeable. When Doug came home from work I explained what I was feeling but was still sure it was really no big deal. Doug decided to start timing them, entering them into a spread sheet on the computer (so very typical of him) and relaying the pattern to me. He decided that he wouldn't be going back to work the next day.

I got a decent night of sleep but by morning the contractions started up again. Doug continued to keep track of things while I tried to focus on other things. By that evening they were undeniably painful and according to Excel, ranging from as many as 10 minutes apart to as few as 5 minutes apart. As first timers we decided that we should probably go to the hospital since I was starting to have a difficult time coping with the pain and there was a snow storm brewing. We took our time, showered, packed the car and headed out into the snow at about 8 pm. Driving down the gravel and rutted out lane was very painful. Every bump felt like I was about to have horrible diarrhea while sitting on a bowling ball. We made it through the snow covered roads to the hospital. We were taken to the Labor and Delivery Triage where after a couple of hours we were sent packing. I was dialated to 2 cm but my contractions has essentially petered out. The nurse also told me that I was way to pleasant to be in real labor. The nurse told me I could walk around the hospital or just go home. We opted for the return trip home since we were both tired and hopeful that maybe we could get some rest. The trek home was a slow one since the storm was in full effect and the roads were completely covered.

I decided to sleep on the couch, or attempt to, so that Doug could get uninterrupted sleep. I watched that night's episode of American Idol that I had recorded and tried to fall asleep. I got very little sleep since the contractions had grown quite uncomfortable and impossible to sleep through. I would close my eyes, rest for 10 minutes or so be awakened by the contraction and try to rest again. This went on all night. In the morning, we decided to get showered and then make a return trip to the hospital partially so that we wouldn't get snowed into the house and we figured that the baby would be coming soon with the frequency and intensity of the contractions. We didn't check in so that we could just walk around until things picked up and we would then check in. It was now Wednesday the 13th, my due date. We walked around the hospital back and forth, stopping every 10 minutes or so to lean on a wall or sit in a chair to breathe through the contraction then off we would go until the next one. In the lobby there was a series of tables set up selling chocolates of many varieties. We bought some and sat down to sample the goods. I look up to see the Triage nurse walking right up to me.

"Are you STILL here?!" She asked stunned.

I explained that we had gone home for the night but came back hoping that with a little walking I would be checking in soon.

Her words were, "When it is time, you will know it. Go home. Get some rest. We'll see you soon."

So back to the car we went. I was so tired. All the way back home in the storm, up the horribly bumpy lane that I swear induced some of the most sever contractions ever, and into the baby-ready house. I was hungry and Doug made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I had a bowl of potato chips topped with Frank's Red Hot Sauce (one of my frequent pregnancy cravings). I talked on the phone with a few of my friends and family and the contractions were so intense that I would tell them to hold on..... okay... just a bit longer... then finish my sentence.

That night we went up to bed at about 8 pm, and tried to watch American Idol. I was zoning out, moaning, and trying to breathe during my contractions. There weren't any more frequent than they had been the past 36 hours but they were certainly getting stronger. Doug called my doctor who said that we should go to the hospital.

Back in the car. Again. Through the snow and ice we went to get to the hospital. The bumpy lane was agonizing this time. I told Doug that he had to stop hitting the bumps and would cry out when he would inevitably hit one. Poor guy. He couldn't win on that one. We got to the hospital ER and climbed into the wheelchair. The nurse at the desk asked my due date and I thought it was cool that I got to say, "Today!!"

Finally I was actually admitted to the hospital and in a room that would be mine for the next three days. It was really late. I was exhausted from so many days with very little sleep. They offered the epidural a number of times but I turned it down over and over until... They told me how it would be a good thing. They said I would be able to rest and that I would need it to push in a little while. I caved. Rest sounded luxurious at this point.

The anesthesiologist came to admisnister the epidural. It took a long time and at least 2 tries before they were able to get it in. I thought the process was terribly uncomfortable not to mention trying to hold still during some of the most intense contractions yet. Well, the epidural only worked as far as causing me the inability to move my legs. I felt each contraction, perhaps a bit dulled but still very painful. They tuned the lights off so that I could sleep but I don't think I managed to close my eyes for more than a few minutes at a time. I would start moaning, panting, and gritting my teeth. Doug's voice would echo from the other side of the room form the recliner, "Just breathe. Just breathe." This seemed to go on for hours. At midnight, I realized that I was about have my baby on Valentines Day.

Toward the end of what seemed like hours I recall feeling like I was forcing myself to pee every time I had a contraction. I had a catheter so I didn't know if I was actually peeing but it sure felt like that was what I was doing- with urgency. So when the nurse came in and checked me and told me I was 10cm I quickly told her. "I think I am pushing." She left the room and I told Doug, "I have to push. I have to push now!"

He called the nurse in and before I knew it the big stage lights came on, the room filled with people and I was pushing. It seemed like there were at least a dozen nurses standing in the room and one of them came up to me between pushes. She introduced herself as a student nurse and asked if she could attend the birth. "Are you serious?! What?! I don't care who you are? Get down there with the rest of the peanut gallery and stop interrupting my pushing!" was all I could think. Thankfully the words that came out were much more polite. Something like, "Sure. I don't mind."

After about 10 minutes of pushing I asked the nurse how much longer this was going to be. I wasn't ready to quit, although it was the hardest thing I had every been through and I wasn't done yet, I just needed to know so that I could know it would end eventually. She told me three more sets of three pushes. I thought for sure she was lying. I figured she was trying to make me feel better about the hours of endless pushing I had ahead of me. Wouldn't you know it... She was telling the truth! Out he came! I recall hearing my doctor saying "Short cord. Short cord." as he laid on my lower abdomen. His back was to me as they cleaned him up, cut the cord and whisked him to the bassinet for scoring and measurement. I still hadn't seen his face.

I learned that he weighed 8 pounds 10 ounces. And then he was finally brought over to me. It was love at first sight. Even if his face was all squished up. He made me a mom. I'm convinced it is the best gift I will ever be given.


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