W-w-w-wait...what's this? This tugging? What the...?
Holy crap! So bright! So cold! So...
WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH!
The End. Or Rather. Just The Beginning.
The Birth Story as told by Mom...
I really and truly should have known I was going into labor, but I was totally clueless. Cora Jane was born on Wednesday, May 16 at 7:50AM. She weighed 6 pounds, 3 ounces and was 18 inches long. Those are the stats. Now, the story.
Towards the end of my pregnancy, I began sleeping on the couch almost every night. To the general public, I proclaimed it was more comfortable to prop myself and my big old belly sideways there. Not to mention that from 6 weeks pregnant on I suffered from insomnia and watched a lot of tv in the wee hours. In truth, it was those things. And more. I was plagued with an impressive snoring capability in late pregnancy and it drove Mike nuts. He actually had ear plugs. Which didn't do a damn thing to protect his ears from my nasal orchestrations. So I slept on the couch. I really didn't mind. It was closer to the refrigerator. Enough said.
Early Wednesday morning I woke up at around 3:30AM. I repositioned myself to get a better look at my favorite 3:30AM show, Cheaters, and realized I felt wet. I maybe just maybe might've let a profanity slip thinking I'd wet myself. It hadn't happened yet, but the Turtle, as we'd so fondly come to call our little boy or girl to be, was fond of kicking me in the bladder and I was just waiting for the day I'd be so lucky as to lose control.
I waddled to the bedroom to get a change of pajamas and headed to the bathroom. After changing, I made my way back to the couch. By the time I got there...I was wet again. I sat down. A million thoughts ran through my head. Had I wet myself twice? Was that possible? The second time I was awake. I hadn't felt the baby kick. Could it be...my water? Did my water break? That was the only explanation that made any sense.
I felt another gush.
It had to be that my water had broken.
I was taken completely by surprise. I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that, due to the baby being breech, s/he would be born on the morning of May 21, when my c-section was scheduled. Ah well.
By this time, it was 4AM. I crept into the bedroom.
"Mike?"
Silence.
A little louder..."Mike?"
"Huh?"
"Um, honey, I think my water broke."
"Really?"
"I don't know, but I think so."
"Okay."
"You don't have to get up yet. I just wanted to let you know. I'm going to take a shower because if it did, I probably won't be able to take one for a while. Then I'll call the doctor."
"Okay."
I showered.
When I got out, Mike was wide awake, fully dressed, sitting by the overnight bag I'd semi-packed, and ready to go. He said, "So, I thought only 10% of labors begin with water breaking." Heh. This stemmed from a discussion we'd had about how to protect our brand new king bed from the possiblity of my water breaking.
"I'm unusual, I guess."
I called the OB's office. I left a message for the on call doctor.
"Hi, this is Teresa _____ ______. I, um, I think maybe my water broke. Either that or I wet myself. But, I really think it's my water. So, uh, I just wanted to know if I should go to the hospital or not. Um, give me a call at ______________. Thanks."
I guess I'm not so poetic at 4AM with broken water.
A minute later the phone rang. It was the doctor on call. After a few minutes of talking she told me that I should check into the hospital.
Mike and I ran around gathering a few last minute things. The video camera Mike had just finished fixing the previous evening. Toothbrushes. Glasses and contact solution. Mike left a note on the back of an envelope for our friend, Rich, who was going to stop by in the morning to help us with some last minute remodeling stuff...
I started having contractions. About five minutes apart and getting closer. They were, um, quite uncomfortable.
We packed our stuff in the car and headed out for the fifteen minute drive to the hospital. There were two topics of discussion on the way there. Two topics which were randomly interrupted by my inability to speak due contractions...Note to pregnant women everywhere - when they say that you can't speak through real contractions? They're not lying. I couldn't speak. I was really happy to have experienced contractions, though. Don't ask me why. Anyway, the two topics of discussion were as follows...
1) Pumpkin Pie - Two nights before, we were watching an episode of the Sopranos. It was Thanksgiving, Sopranos time, and Carmella was serving up some pumpkin pie. I, in my pregnant state, decided that pumpkin pie was The. Only. Thing. I. Wanted. Since it was after 9PM, I had to wait until the next day for some pumpkin pie love. I had almost forgotten about it until 8:42PM the next day when I announced to Mike that I was going to the supermarket to buy some pumpkin pie. I barely made it before the grocery store closed. When I got home with my prized pregnancy craving, I was dismayed to read in the instructions that the pie had to bake for 70 minutes and cool for two hours before being eaten. I sullenly told Mike that I would have to eat it tomorrow. Foreshadowing, anyone?
We joked about the pumpkin pie. And I wondered if it would still be appealing to me after the baby was born.
2) Calling our parents - Having heard so many stories of women who went to the hospital pregnant with their first child thinking they were in labor, only to be sent home, I was completely convinced that I wasn't actully in labor. I was so afraid to wake up our respective families in the wee hours o' the morn' telling them I was having a baby, only to have to rescind the good news a few hours later. I didn't want to call. Mike finally convinced me it would be fun. I called my Mom. It was indeed fun. I disclaimered away that this might not be it and la dee la, but I'll never forget the excitement in her voice.
We arrived at the hospital and checked into Labor & Deliver at about 4:30AM. The rest is a bit of a blur to me because it all happened so quickly. It took about an hour for them to get me all set up. Including three collapsed veins before finally successfully getting me hooked up on an IV. Here's evidence:
When I first checked in, I was a fingertip dilated, as I'd been for weeks. The doctor arrived an hour later and told me that she'd arranged for the c-section to happen at 9AM. I called my Mom to let her know.
Nurses and doctors were all kind of rushing around. I was having contractions. They finally gave me something to ease them because they didn't want my blood pressure to go up, and contractions in my case were pretty pointless. At around 6:30AM, the doctor checked me again. I'd gone to two centimeters. In a little over an hour. This changed things.
In an instant, it was decided that they couldn't put off the c-section until 9AM. they were taking me now. They ushered Mike off to put on his scrubs and whisked me to the operating room. I didn't even have time to call Mom.
I hated the fact that Mike wasn't in the operating room then, but he couldn't come in until I was all prepped for surgery. It would've been nice to have someone in the room who was familiar with my dire fear of needles while I got the spinal. Instead, a very nice nurse held my shoulders and I cried.
When I was finally all set to go, they let Mike in. It was all so surreal. After all that we had been through with the three miscarriages and then bedrest, I can honestly say that I had my doubts we'd have an actual baby at the end of the c-section. I was hoping, but I wasn't sure of anything.
The nurses had prepared us that the baby might not cry too loud when she or he was born because c-section babies were usually a little slow to start. I was ready to hear a few squeaks, maybe.
Right before she was born, the nurse at my head said, "So, does Mom have any ideas what the baby might be?" I answered, "Well, everyone, including me, thinks it's a boy. So I'm starting to believe that it will be a girl just to prove everyone wrong."
A moment later, the room was filled with the loudest most piercing screams you've ever heard. I couldn't believe it. That was the best gift Cora Jane could have given us.
Mike said that he heard me heave a huge sigh when she started wailing. I'd been holding that in for months. Years even.
I can honestly say that the rest is quite a haze and I don't remember much of it, so you'll have to rely on photos. Apparently, as soon as they cut the cord, they gave me a big dose of something closely related to morphine. You could say I was feeling no pain.
And the rest is history. Or the future. However you want to look at it.
Thanks to everyone for your love and prayers and good vibes and voodoo dances throughout my pregnancy. We really couldn't have done it without you.
The last big belly photo taken a few hours before I was born.
WOAH! Enough with the lights already!
Okay lady. For the record? You are a really horrible singer. I'm fortunate I no longer have to join you in the shower, but in the car, would you mind sparing me your musical renditions? Please?
I screamed and screamed when I was born. Just so Mom and Dad would know I was okay.
The whole dang family. Dad, Mom and me.
Me and that guy. Who keeps insisting the paternity test results aren't in. He's such a kidder, my Dad.
About Me: I'm my Mom's and Dad's kid. Apparently, they've been waiting on me for a while and didn't have the best of luck getting me here. I'm the miracle baby that hung around after my Mom had three miscarriages and then was put on bedrest at five months pregnant for fear she was losing me, too. But, now I'm here and they really dig me. I dig them, too. It's cool.
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