Brady's Birth Story

It is almost impossible to believe that exactly 2 years ago today, I became a mommy. I remember every detail as if it were yesterday, despite being so "out of it" for most of the process. The thing I love about reading other people's birth stories is the fact that no two are alike. Some are EXTREMELY similar, but still, they are like fingerprints in the sense that no two are identical. My favorite birth stories to read from others are typically the first born, just because you are entering a world and an experience that no book or childbirth class can really completely prepare you for. You just have to have the experience to really understand.... here is ours:

For many of you who know Steve and I, you already know that Brady was not a planned baby and he was born before Steve and I were married. Although our relationship was already headed in that direction and we were already living together, we were scared. I made that more evident than Steve did since I knew my body and emotions were about to go on a little journey. (In fact, I had been extremely emotional in the first place, so that is why I took a pregnancy test). We had both talked about our shared desire to have children, but not anytime soon. Most likely in our thirties. When I learned I was pregnant, Steve and I were both 25. Life had solely been about the 2 of us and no one else. We were both in a very selfish phase of our lives. On February 17, 2011, that all changed when there were 2 lines on the pregnancy test. Since this was obviously NOT a planned a life event, I threw myself INTO planning for it. That is, after the 20 straight weeks of horrible "morning" sickness subsided a bit. (Morning...more like ALL DAMN DAY!!) By the time my due date rolled around we had an (almost) finished nursery, we were registered at the hospital, we had a full day of childbirth class under our belt, we had a hospital bag packed, we knew the gender, and we had chosen a name. We were ready. The only one who wasn't ready was Brady. My due date (October 12) came and went. I was miserable and STILL working and EXHAUSTED!!!! I grew so incredibly sick of people walking by my desk at work and asking when I was due and THEN asking why I was STILL working when I told them, "Two days ago". I was so incredibly fed up. The only reason I was still working was because my maternity leave would begin the moment I took off, and I wanted as much of that time as possible to be spent snuggling my new bundle of joy. However, two days after my due date, a Friday, I just couldn't do it anymore and I told my boss I was done. I was tired, in pain , HUGE, and my feet wouldn't even fit into shoes. I was the only employee allowed to wear flip-flops to work...in October....

The boss was completely ok with this. He wished me well and I took off. 

The next day, per my request, Steve and I spent pretty much the entire day on our feet. You would think I would take the time to rest, but no. I wanted the baby out and I was willing to take matters into my own hands. We went to a bunch of different stores and a fall festival and out to eat. We even took Steve's truck, which was very high up and hard for me to haul my pregnant butt into, but I did because it was bumpy and I thought it would make me go into labor. Those of you who think that is stupid, can shove a sock in it because it worked. My water broke at 3 AM that morning.

We went right into the hospital where they confirmed that I was, in fact in labor. HALLELUJAH!!! I was starting to have some mild contractions but they gave me some Pitocin to help speed up the process. Since the contractions were not yet painful and there wasn't much to do but wait, Steve decided to use this opportunity to catch up on some sleep. I however, was too anxious and settled on watching "A League of Their Own" to focus my attention elsewhere. By the time Dottie decided to come back with her hot husband and play in the world series, my contractions were finally starting to hurt. With every contraction, it just got worse and worse. I had all back labor, which sucked, so the only way to relieve some of the pain was to get up off my back. I remember the contractions getting closer and closer together and just more and more painful. I remember getting to the point where my contractions were making me cry, when they offered me the epidural. They didn't have to ask me twice. I was ready. And it worked almost instantly. I didn't feel a thing! WHEEEW!! Time to relax. We checked the little chart that measures your contractions and after the epidural, the hills got bigger and bigger with each contraction. I have NO idea how some of you freaks of nature endure natural childbirth (Mom) but kudos to you!!!!

With the rest of my labor, a few complications arose. They could not get accurate readings on my contractions OR Brady from the monitors that I had strapped to my stomach. So I had to have internal catheters for both of those. Once that bridge was crossed, I had issues with my blood pressure falling too low and the nurses had to be by my bedside non stop pushing on my IV bag until that was finally under control. Although, I wasn't in any pain anymore, I was exhausted. People were constantly in and out of the room, I had been awake since 3 AM, and I had only been allowed ice chips to eat. My throat was extremely parched and even though I begged for water, the nurses said no. The IV was keeping my hydrated, but I still felt extremely uncomfortable. 

When the time finally came for me to start pushing, I had no energy left to do this. My epidural had worked so well, that I could not even feel myself trying to push. Brady was still sitting extremely high and had not descended at all. My temperature had climbed to 103 and the doctor was worried about Brady catching an infection, so he immediately decided an Emergency C-section would be best. At first, I was not happy. I went through ALL this for a c-section??? I could have had a c-section 20 hours ago and not been so exhausted!!! And NOW, after 9 months of having a perfectly healthy fetus, his health was in danger?? It was all too much to take in and I began to cry. My nurse (who was wonderful) and the doctor told me not to worry. It would all be over soon and I could rest. Brady was also going to get the best special attention if he needed it. This did nothing to calm me down. I was still terrified. Steve sat with me and we had a moment. I needed reassuring that we would come out of this ok. And that is just what he did. He reassured me that the doctor had done thousands and thousands of these in even worse situations and I was going to be fine and so was our baby. And that was that. He strapped on his scrubs and I was wheeled into the OR.




What a Dork


At this point I could barely keep my eyes open from how exhausted I was. Also, the BLINDING lights in the room did not help either. I was placed directly on my back, which was a position I had not been in for a while. I had an almost 8 pound baby resting on my lungs and I felt like I could not breathe. I began to take frequent deep breaths, almost as if I were hyperventilating. The doctor told me to try and breathe normal but I couldn't. It was impossible and I began to panic. Lying on my back at 40 weeks pregnant was almost unbearable. Especially when the baby had not descended and was resting on my lungs. I vaguely remember being given some oxygen and relaxing a bit. Then I drifted in and out of awareness. At some point I heard the anesthesiologist say : "Ok Daddy get the camera ready". They were ready to pull the baby out. I had no idea they had even started the procedure!! That's how well the epidural worked! The I heard the doctor say "Whoa! Where were you hiding this guy?" Meaning he had my son in his hands...

Then I heard the cry. I had yet to meet my son, but I heard his beautiful healthy cry. He was here. On October 16, 2011 at 11:02 PM I delivered my 7 lb 14 oz baby boy.

  



For whatever reason, they didn't show him to me right away. (Or maybe they did, but I was too busy in lala land to notice) I made sure Steve went with the nurses as they cleaned him off and got his APGAR readings. (He was perfectly healthy and my fever had not affected him). Then, the nurse told me to look to my right. And that is the picture that was snapped at the beginning of this blog post. There he was in his daddy's arms. Absolutely perfect. His skin did not have a single mark on it. Almost like he was made of porcelain. He was squinting in the bright lights and blowing little spit bubbles out of his mouth. All while wrapped up like a little baby burrito. Now THAT was love at first sight. It was the most surreal feeling I have ever had. And I do not think I will ever be able to duplicate it again. I just couldn't even fathom that he was mine. I MADE him....well I guess his dad helped too...I guess...But it was just this incredibly powerful force of bewilderment that coursed through my veins. So many emotions overtook my being as the placed him in my arms and wheeled me out of the OR. But stronger than anything at that point, was exhaustion. After nursing him and holding his beautiful little body for a while, it was evident that I needed sleep. Even though the last thing I wanted to do was hand over my child and sleep, I had to. And that is exactly what I did.

   
We finally got to go home 3 1/2 days later and begin our tiresome yet rewarding next few months as parents of a newborn. I fast forward 2 years later, and although 2 years is not a long time, it seems like this all happened a lifetime ago. I still catch myself staring at him, unable to believe he is my son. I still cannot believe how miraculous life is and how we created a living, breathing, thinking, talking, smiling and laughing human being. The craziest thing, is that I can actually sit and have conversations with him. We will sit at the table at dinner time and talk about his day (which mainly consists of his asking about where his friends from day care went and me explaining over and over that they went home too) but still, it is just surreal. I can not imagine life being more fulfilling than it is now.

Today, I celebrate the happiest (and most exhausting) day of my life. I celebrate this little present God nicely wrapped up for me before I knew I even wanted it. I celebrate all the awesome things Brady is, as well as the not-so awesome things that I know are just normal parts of being a toddler. I am so thankful for the smiling, happy-go-lucky, easy-going child that he is. What a wonderful 2 years it has been! Happy Birthday Brady!



Brady enters the world!





Brady on his 1st Birthday!

My 2 Year Old!!!!



 Meghan