Monday, February 8, 2010

nine months with a monster

jonas,

you are nine months old today. you are nine months old going on 4 years old. while i’m trying to get over the rapid heart rate that i’m currently experiencing because you’re not my itty bitty baby anymore, all i can say right now is that you’re awesome. you have a great personality, you’re on or above all targets, and you amaze us.

you waved bye bye for the first time yesterday, you try to feed yourself with your spoon, you love seeing how everything works (from cabinet doors to diaper bag straps to walkers to shoes), you wear 9 to 12 month clothing (although if we were honest, those 9 month pants look a weeeeee bit snug), size 3 diaper, take 6 ounces max of formula at a time, cruise around furniture, try to climb everything, and have some sort of pied piper quality about you with older kids (seriously, a couple sundays ago i watched you crawl around the church with atleast 3 other elementary age kids crawling behind you…either you’ll be president, or a cult leader).

and because you have been outside the belly for nine months, it seems only fitting to recount how you got here.

(originally posted may 2009)

i tried to go to sleep thursday night, but for some reason i just couldn't. around 1am i started to feel some sort of random pain in my abdomen that would come and go every twenty minutes or so. i thought it might have been contractions, but really had no clue what they felt like. the only description i kept reading over and over online was that they'd feel like period cramps at first. and i'd never had cramps in my life.

figuring that worst case it was some gas that needed to be worked out, i went to wal-mart at 2am to walk around. while i was gone, john looked up other "symptoms". i came back home around 2:30am or so, and really had to go to the bathroom. it was then that i saw that i was bleeding slightly...and i realized that this may be labor.

so we got to the hospital about 6:45am and were admitted not too long afterwards. the charge nurse decided that they would admit me no matter what because i was already scheduled to be induced in a few days and they had an empty bed.

at 9am, the doc came to check me. i was still at just over 2cm's, and he broke my water. i was soon hooked up to my iv's of saline and pitocin (used to just make my contractions stronger).
i'm not going to lie--that stuff works. quickly. soon the contractions were reaching the point of becoming unbearable. i was trying to breathe through them, crying  because, well, it hurt. and it didn’t help that john was eating a breakfast burrito during this.  i looked at john and begged him to find the "drug man".
it took what seemed like hours (HOURS i tell you!) for the "drug lady" to make it to us (but in reality, it was probably only 30 minutes or so—she was in surgery helping with an emergency c-section).

the epidural was placed without incident, and almost immediately i started to get numb. and my friends, life was amazing.

i'm not even kidding. life was great and could feel NOTHING.
the nurse came to check me again around 11:30 or so, and i was dilated to 5cm. i was stoked, enjoying my ice chips and watching "law & order" as our family members began to pour in. jasmine would help "baby-sit" me while the others grabbed lunch and took a breather.

somewhere around 1pm the nurse checked me again. she looked at me, and told me that i was going to laugh...and that i was at 9cm. and i did laugh, because dang it, i still felt nada thing. and if i did feel just the slightest bit of pain, i'd use my little "margarita shooter" to gimme some more relief.

everyone was kicked out of the room, and john and i rested for a little bit. and it was nice for it to be just us before chaos was to hit. the nurse came back to check me around 2, and said it was go time. she prepped the room, bringing out all of these gizmos that were hiding in a closet in the room, and set up a table full of medical instruments.

just before 3, we started to do some test pushes, just so we could see what was going on. after doing several, she told me that i was doing great, and that jonas would be here very soon. i can't remember if john asked her or if i did about how long she thought it may take. she replied that 20 minutes should do the trick.
i got so excited. just 20 more minutes!?!? how awesome!

unfortunately, jonas didn't want to cooperate. i'd push and push and push my hardest, and any progress that would be made while i pushed would be completely nullified when i stopped. he'd go back in to where he was originally every single time. the nurse began to get a little concerned, and asked another nurse to come in and check if jonas was sunny-side up. after about 15 minutes, they determined that he was in the right position...he just couldn't get past my pubic bone.

at this point, i'm starting to get tired. really tired. right above me there was a piece of reflective glass, and i looked up into it. and i saw blood. a lot of blood. i think she saw me looking at it, because she said that i had torn around my tushie a bit, and that later on when the doc would come, she'd tell me exactly how, when, and where to direct my pushing to prevent more damage.

i'm not sure if it was the blood or not breathing because all of the pushing (or the combo of it), but i soon began to throw up. because that's what i do. they cleaned me up and applied cool washcloths to my neck and face. john began to fan me with a piece of paper. little did he know that he'd be fanning for atleast another hour.

eventually the point came where the doc was back in the room, ready to catch jonas. i was pushing so hard, trying my hardest, but i was getting so tired. i cried once in a while, and told them that i couldn't do it. that i was done, and that was that. of course, they told me no.

i suddenly began to hear scissors clipping, and i knew that he was giving me an episiotomy (i left the hospital with a 4th degree fun place, and whenever there was a shift change, the new nurse would give me a sad, sad look as she gave me my pain meds). at that point, i didn't care. i just needed to be done. i couldn't go much longer. i found out later that jonas’s heart rate started dropping, and he needed to be out NOW.

i hear john telling me to open my eyes and to look down, and i told him that i couldn't, that i'd get sick. he told me again to open my eyes...and that's when i saw him. there he was, this screaming child. the first thing i could say was, "is it really a boy?" to which i got a reassuring yes. they placed jonas on my chest, and i began to just weep. he was so beautiful. and he was here. in my arms.

jonas, we love you. you have rocked our worlds, leaving us white-knuckled just so we can hang on.

mommy

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