Wyatt Burps

I was single during my pregnancy with Wyatt, I was single while he was born, met my “soul mate” at the time who I know now probably was not, and am now single again.

It wasn’t so bad being pregnant on my own, I had a lot to do in the wood shop so I stayed busy most of the time, Doctor’s appointments weren’t bad and I just muddled through each appointment armed with questions and anxious to avoid the scale.

The last ultrasound I had was a biophysical profile to see how well he was doing in the oven, his fluid was relatively low and W was not practice breathing well. The ultrasound tech said that she couldn’t confirm it but I would be heading over to the hospital today to have a baby. I had convinced my mom to come up which was nice as she hadn’t been to really any of my doctors appointments. The doctor of course says he is sending me across the street to be induced.

We drive across the street; yes…directly across the street to a different parking lot and head up to labor and delivery. I had to switch into a hospital gown and answer a million questions, get the first IV, that I remember and have something shoved up my hoo haa. In the scheme of things the cervadil did nothing, I walked in circles around the hospital floor bored out of my mind drinking ginger ale like it was going out of style and watching shows on my laptop. 12 hours later they checked me and….nothing.

The wise decision was made to start pitocin; I really really hate pitocin. It made the contractions so painful and so…much worse. I can’t even describe it. After another 12 hours of meaningless contractions they decided to try cervadil again. What happened after 12 hours of this? you guessed it…NOTHING. Back onto pitocin I go, which they kept bumping up even though I repeatedly asked them not to. I think this is what annoys me the most from the whole experience.

I convinced the night nurse who was my favorite nurse out of everyone, she even came upstairs to meet W. once we settled in. Anyways I convinced her to let me take a shower which helped for all of five minutes. I also took a bath at one point after much yelling and whining they caved in. Both things helped but at some point I decided I had had enough pain. My back was on fire and I just wanted to curl up into a ball and die. I know I flipped out and frantically asked for pain meds, and then an epidural. This really helped till I kept sliding down the bed and pulled myself up with my shoulders so I didn’t bother the nurses every hour.

Eventually I could push, and pushed I did. I pushed for three hours half on hands and knees WITH AN EPIDURAL. Do you know how hard that is? Well just so you know it is hard to do. I eventually I was really tired I hadn’t gotten a good nights rest in four days and I was just done. W wasn’t descending at all if he was I would have kept pushing. I started crying hysterically and said I am done I want a cesarean. Poor N (my bestie) got to see me loosing my shit and tried her best to convince me to stick to my plan as I asked her too. I will be forever thankful she was there.  They took me back and prepped me poking the wrong spot twice causing lightning to flash down my legs. I buried my face in some poor nurses shirt trying to hold still, not cry and have a bowling ball sitting on my lower hip bones. The whole time my legs kept feeling like they were falling off the table.

Once they pulled Baby Bear out I heard a doctor say “WOW” and knew he was going to be the full eight pounds they estimated. Boy howdy was I wrong! He was 11 lbs and 4 ounces at birth. I got to see him for a brief moment before they took him to the NICU to check him out. I sent my mom with him while they sewed me up. I was told once I could move my legs that I could go see my son. I was trying not to fall asleep and talk to Nickola but move my legs at the same time so I could go see him as soon as possible. It was excrutiating staring at my legs.

I eventually got to see him briefly in the NICU on the way upstairs to my postpartum room. It was bizarre to see him all swaddled and dressed and on the outside of me. The nurses brought W up to the nursery after and finished up everything and I was finally able to hold my baby.

Our birth experience lasted a week, as Baby Bear says go big or go get me a damn bottle mom.

This “little” boy will be a year old on Wednesday, how fast does time fly when you have the love of your life to spend it with.

 

 

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