Monica's birth story

*Warning- contains information some might consider to much information*


After convincing myself that I'd be pregnant for another week, at 3 am on Tuesday, March 8th, I felt my first contraction.  Tony was working the night shift so after I was SURE it was labor, I called and rescued him from work.  I labored in the tub for a while and Tony gathered our things and loaded the car; he switched the laundry, did some dishes and my favorite part- baked cookie bars for the nurses.  Yeah, you read that right.

Our intention was to labor at home as long as possible.  I had no indication of how far along I was because I had not been dilated at all previous to labor.  By 7:30 am my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and 45-75 seconds long.  I was definitely feeling the pain and Tony's jokes weren't funny anymore.  So we went to the hospital, got all checked in and ready for the long haul.  I was only one centimeter at that point and was so encouraged (insert heavy sarcasm) to hear from the doctor and nurse that it was going to be a long time still and I could go back home if I wanted.  Knowing how I was feeling, we decided to stay. 

Just in case people didn't know- labor is HARD!  I have had lots of friends with babies, talked and read about labor, but I still had a rose colored view.  Maybe moms don't tell you the full truth so as to not scare people off, but I'm here to tell you- NOT an experience I am eager to repeat soon.  Apparently the mothers' memory fades (and now writing this three days later, it is true, my memory has already begun to fade . . . a little).  Don't get me wrong, I would definitely do it again to have our little gorgeous, sweet blessing in our lives.  I guess this new insight to the world of labor pains just proves how sacrificial and loving parenthood is.

Our goal was to have me birth naturally, but after 6 hours of labor and three total times vomitting (sorry if that's TMI), I was really having a hard time relaxing and was being told I had a long time to go.  I was surprised how quickly I wanted something to curb the pain.  Tony was the best coach in the world and our nurse that was with us the whole day was very supportive in our wishes, but after a strong order from me mid morning, I took a narcotic of some sort (Tony will tell you it was cocaine) that would take the edge off for a couple hours, but it would allow me to continue "naturally" after that.  The drugs made me very loopy, you can ask Tony for details about crazy stuff I said, but it did allow me to manage the pain. 

After the narcotics wore off, I was able to get into the zone for several hours, stopped making noise and got into the appearance of sleep that the Bradley method is famous for.  The nurse thought my labor was regressing, but the next time I was checked at about 2:00 pm, I was four centimeters dilated and she was in the zero position.  Yippee- progress!  The rest went very quickly and by 4:00 pm I was 9 cms!  We went to labor in the tub for a short time and then it was time to push.  Bowling ball through the butt is an adequate description. 

Monica came out at 5:32 pm.  She'd had a perfect heart rate the whole labor, but there was meconium (baby poop) and she came out with the chord wrapped a little around her neck and for whatever reason her heart rate dropped really low.  They ended up calling "code pink" and doing CPR and giving her oxygen.  It was the scariest ten minutes of our lives.  Praise God, she soon perked up and was wailing away.  Every check up after that has been perfect: great lungs, good hearing, good eater, maintaining a good weight after birth, and no jaundice despite having a different blood type then mommy (something that increases the chances).  She has been really agreeable, happy and low maintenance.  We are unbelievability blessed. 

My mom was able to get a last minute flight and was here by 10 pm on the 8th (my dad is in New Zealand), Tony's folks arrived on the 10th and we are enjoying this precious addition to our family.  I promise to return phone calls and texts just as soon as I can. 

A question for the experienced parents out there: does the desire to take a picture of your child in every outfit they wear ever go away?