Like I said before, it was a completely emotional whirlwind. So, here are my scattered (and unfiltered) thoughts. I had a really easy, enjoyable, uneventful pregnancy that I really tried to savor. I looked forward to each symptom, kick, ultrasound, check up, baby shower, etc., and they were all as wonderful as I'd dreamed in those 2.5 years prior when Nick and I were longing for a baby. My memories become a lot clearer around the new year. For some reason, I vividly remember New Year's Eve 2014. It was a lazy night at home with Nick, flipping back and forth between some of the NYE specials on TV. There was one show that told the stories of the most inspirational people of 2014. One in particular was about a boy with some sort of disability and his dog. I just remember getting very teary-eyed and telling Nick, "You cannot make the hormonal pregnant lady watch this stuff." I remember telling him something to the effect of- "that could be us" (with a child with special needs). The next day we received the news that my cousin and his wife had had their baby. Full disclosure, I was a little jealous and really hoped that my baby boy would make his grand entrance soon, too. At this point, I was more than ready to meet our boy, not because I felt huge or tired or anything. Besides wanting to have him in my arms and kiss his sweet cheeks, I honestly was just tired of worrying if he was OK and safe in my tummy. I had begun to notice that he was moving less- not that he ever moved like crazy before- just less. On January 2nd, I began to worry so much about the lack of movement that I went to L&D to have him checked out. After hours of monitoring and having an extensive biophysical profile ultrasound (which he passed), everything checked out fine. We were told that he was breech and that I was a little dehydrated. I was 36 weeks into the pregnancy. At my next regular checkup, I relayed this new info to my OB, and she said a scheduled c-section at 39 weeks (January 19th) would be my best option- I agreed hesitantly, wondering if that was my only option. I finally came to terms with the fact that I was going to have a c-section and started praying that I could at least go into labor. Strange, right, who asks for that? Well, I wanted to experience as much of the "natural way" that I could. On a Tuesday (Jan 6), I went to lunch with a friend, and we talked all things baby and what to expect. I had started to feel some tightening and discomfort that day. Wednesday, Nick and I went to our favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner. Thursday, I picked Nick up from work and talked him into going grocery shopping with me. I remember how fun this was- just doing ordinary adult things with my best friend. Those two nights of sweet time were a blessing from the Lord because it would be the last hoorah for just the two of us. And, OH, how our lives were about to change!
Contractions were intensifying so much so that they would stop me in my tracks. Tuesday and Wednesday they only seemed to come at night. But Thursday... Whoa! I was up all night pacing and timing contractions. They were very sporadic. Some were close together, and some were as far as 30 minutes apart. I didn't want to be a wimp who rushed into labor and delivery with every twinge of pain. So, I waited until morning to call my doctor. Hours later, they called back and asked if I could be there as soon as possible. Nick had my car, so I called my mother in law for a ride to the doctor. This was on Friday- my appointment was at 12:15. I maybe had one contraction on the car ride over and thought to myself, of course they would stop- they're going to think I'm silly for coming in. Shortly after we arrived, I was taken back to an exam room. I put the gown on, explained my symptoms to the nurse, and waited for the doctor to come in. She laid me back and in seconds had a very surprised look on her face. She asked me if my water had broken, and I told her i didn't think so. She then informed me that I was about 4cm dilated, and that (are you ready for this...) she thought she felt little toes. She instructed me not to move and grabbed another doctor for a second opinion. Second doctor checked and confirmed. Again told to stay put while she called an ambulance and went over the game plan. Dr. 1 told me she had to be somewhere in an hour so Dr. 2 would have to do my c-section. Our baby boy would be here within the hour! Karmen was called in, and I told her to get a hold of Nick and my mom. I called my sister as I lay exposed on the table and quickly tried to explain to her what was going on. The ambulance (and a fire truck??) came minutes later. The EMT crew seemed a little (read- a lot) unprofessional, and some strange, off the wall, can't-make-this-stuff-up conversations ensued as they prepped me for transport. I won't even go there. That felt like eternity. Surprisingly, though, I felt so much calm and peace at this point. The Lord sustained me amid major chaos. I texted my friend, who worked at the hospital I was delivering at, and told her I was on the way in an ambulance.
I arrived at the hospital- sat in the elevator for forever while my medical team scrambled around looking for a security key or something. We went up to the room where they began to prepare me for surgery. The chaos intensified. Nick was there when we went up. Nurses and doctors were in and out. Briefing me, asking hundreds of questions, losing my chart, shaving me, more questions, instructing Nick, putting IVs in, arguing with the doctors who were trying to hurry the process along. It was an out of body experience, to say the least. An anesthesiology student asked if he could perform my epidural- sure, why not? Nick was understandably quiet and in total shock that we were about to meet our son 2.5 week early. I kept trying to reassure him. Finally, I was being wheeled into the OR. I received an epidural while curled up on my side as a nurse held me in the fetal position. I was told not to flinch, but I literally could not control myself. The anesthesiologists finished the epidural, and the tingling and heaviness started at my toes. They let Nick back in at some point. As the numbness rose up my body, peace melted away and panic began to set in. I couldn't look at Nick because I didn't want to scare him. I focused on my breathing. I tried to set my thoughts on Jesus as the doctor cut into my abdomen and attempted make small talk about Elvis's birthday. Minutes later, I felt the pressure and tugging of them delivering my baby boy. At 1:48 pm, the OB exclaimed, "He's so cute!" I faintly remember a sweet little cry that I would give just about anything to have recorded. I looked back at Nick and shared a moment of pure joy (but not relief) and tears of indescribable gratitude over the birth of our Jude Shaughnessy. I don't think Jude cried long. I remember it getting pretty quiet in that cold, sterile operating room. The neonatologist hustled out of the room saying, "You have a healthy active little boy." The doctors invited Nick over to meet his son for the first time. More joy and more tears. He took a few pictures and came to show me. I thought he was so beautiful. There was so much joy and love at the sight of my son but still no relief that everything was OK. They wrapped him up and let Nick hold him briefly. Pure elation set in at the sight of the love of my life holding our son for the first time. I was wheeled back to the recovery room, anxious to finally meet my baby boy. One of the nurses gently placed Jude in my arms and exited the room, allowing Nick and me the privacy due for such an intimate moment. Jude was wrapped snugly in a hospital blanket and had a tiny hat on. I looked into his sweet little face and I knew, immediately.
Love it! But wait....where is part 2??????
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