Look at me! I'm blogging about the birth of my child...one month after he's born!! Okay so I have to admit that sorting through all my photos was a bit daunting. And then there's the whole time factor. I knew that having a newborn baby was time consuming, but it is one thing to know it and another to experience it. Anyhooslebees, I'm blogging now so that's all that matters :)
On to the show!
Many people are asking me about 'my story' and how it all went down. It's not the craziest or most dramatic tale to tell but it was definitely different than what I expected to happen and I've been told by more than one person that I have the worst luck in the world. I agreed.
So everyone knows that I went around saying that my baby would come at the end of July. Asher was due on August 2nd but I wanted a July baby so bad. There's just too many birthdays and anniversaries and such happening in my family in August. Well, July went by and I was only dilated to a 2 so I was obviously having an August baby. I thought for sure he would come the week of his due date. It would interfere with several major things but better that week than the next week. But baby still wasn't listening to me and at 41 weeks I was scheduled to go in a be induced the day after my 4 year wedding anniversary. I was not happy.
Paul and I heading into the hospital Tuesday morning at 7:30 am, about to become parents...
...or so we thought.
Here I am in my gown - we signed papers, we answered questions, I had my IV put in and my monitors hooked up AND THEN I was told that my doctor was in a motorcycle accident and not only that but he was the on-call doctor as well.
We were sent home....to wait around....all day.
We were told to come back that night at 8 and then there would be someone to take his place as my doctor. So here we go again, new room, new gown, three more holes put in my body to get the new IV in, more signing papers and more waiting around.
Paul was an excellent picture taker during our stay at the hospital, which thankfully we were able to get down to four days instead of the five we were initially expecting. One such photo was to capture Asher's heart rate on the monitor! This was one of his better moments:
Let me explain. I was given medicine to thin me out a bit before they actually gave me the drip to start inducing. After that my contractions started. Late at night, or rather early in the morning, my nurse came in and put me on oxygen. Asher's heart rate was doing a dropping a little too low:
My contractions got worse and so did the Asher's heart rate. At four in the morning I received my epidural, which was awesome. I was getting mighty of sick of the never-ending contraction that lasted 45 minutes and all the poking and prodding didn't feel too good, either. We didn't sleep much since the nurses were in and out quite often to help me switch sides I was laying on. Asher didn't like me being on my left side too well though and I was constantly having to go back on my right side.
As the night progressed, I was told that I was thinning, but Asher's head wasn't coming down any further. I was only dilated to a 4 and when they broke my water, they discovered that Asher had has a bowel movement. I was put on more monitors to better watch his heart rate and my contractions. A little before noon on Wednesday I was told that if his heart rate didn't get better that I would have to have a C-Section. I digested this information and thought that everything would be okay because at the time, Asher's heart rate was doing okay. I talked to Paul about having a blessing but didn't even get to go that far because the nurse came right back in and said they were taking me in for the C-Section stat.
It felt weird - that I would be having a baby this way instead of the way I thought I would. And I was disappointed majorly at it. I tried really hard not to cry. At once they were getting Paul ready for the surgery, the anesthesiologist was there and the nurse was bustling about and I barely got a text off to my mom to let her know what was happening and before I knew it I was here:
My wonderful doctor was there to assist his partner (his accident was minor) one handed (since he had a shoulder injury). He said he wouldn't miss it for the world, which was nice. But the experience of being on an operating table for the first time in my life was not nice. I wasn't completely numb when I felt the knife, or anything else that they did. I could feel the tug and pull of everything they did only it wasn't just the pressure I was supposed to feel, it was pain and a whole lot of it. I pretty much felt like I was getting my guts ripped out, which I guess in a sense I was only I wasn't supposed to feel it. It was the worst experience of my life and I nearly threw up from the pain, except my anesthesiologist gave me something for that and the nausea went away. He, the anesthesiologist, was telling me it was almost over - the head was out, the body was out, etc. And then I heard my baby cry and it was surreal and out of this world because I didn't feel like I just had a baby. Paul went to take pictures of Asher and thankfully soon after that, I was able to be almost knocked out. As they sewed and stapled me shut, I could feel what they were doing but I was thankfully not in anymore pain. And then I was transferred back to my bed, my baby was put in my arms and I was wheeled back in my room only twenty minutes after I had left it.
I didn't feel an immediate connection to my baby...which I didn't like but I knew it wasn't completely abnormal. I felt too doped up and wiped out. I was upset with the C-section but Asher made it here safely and that's all that matters:
Weighing in at 8 lbs, 1 oz, 19.5 inches long.
Getting his footprints:
I had to be doped up more in my Labor and Deliver room because I was still in an incredible amount of pain when the nurse was checking things out. She said I shouldn't be feeling anything by that time but somehow I was. After that, Asher was put in my arms again and I was wheeled to my new room. We had a couple hours to ourselves but I was out of it for most of it by the time family arrived to meet him.
Paul went to give Asher his first bath:
And Asher's sucking on his hand which is something he does when he is hungry:
He apparently is a Ute fan already and half the family is NOT okay with that :) This was Amanda's doing and she also bought him a U onesie:
The worst part about surgery is the leg things. I itched and itched and itched. I had my mom and Paul take these off every 20 minutes or so and itch my legs as hard as they could. I was so happy when I was able to start walking around so that I could get these things off for good!:
VISITORS!
Kenny:
Paul's brother B.J. - first time Uncle!
My brother and sister, Asher is their 3rd nephew:
Hilary, B.J.'s fiance at the time - first time Aunt!:
My sister Amber, her first nephew!:
My mom and her mom:
My brother, Morgan and his wife, Sam:
The first time I really got to hold my baby and just be with him:
I love this picture. I love his hair...although he's lost most of it by now:
Like I said, we were able to go home a little earlier. We couldn't stand one more night in the hospital and I was ready to sleep in my own bed...which felt like Heaven after being in that hospital bed for so long. So we got him dressed up to go home:
And put in his carseat - can you tell how much he liked that??:
And off we went! Bringing him home felt good and strange. Strange to not be the only two people living in this house, dog not included. Strange to put a little tiny baby in his crib and watch him sleep. Strange to have your life turned around and not centered around yourself and your spouse anymore. But all of that is also very wonderful at the same time. After speaking with my doctor before we left, we found out that I have a very thin uterus and run the risk of rupturing during a regular delivery. Add that to the health risk my baby could have faced by going the normal way and that makes me very grateful for the way everything DID turn despite the fact that I hated every second of it. I guess I wasn't that unlucky after all.
