continued from A New Start
The first time I held my son was surreal. At that moment, happiness radiated through me with ferocity. Nothing mattered. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and I knew that I was changed forever. I now had the responsibility to be the best person I could be for myself and for my baby. All of the bullshit that led to this point withered away like ashes and this was my new start.
Preston is here and I am his mother. The greatest experience a woman can have and I am lucky to be able to say I am experiencing it every day. The fears and the worries never go away but my strength in knowing that I am doing my very best continues to grow.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The Incision
continued from previous post A New Start
The idea of having a C-section was horrifying. Because the hospital was particularly busy that night, I had approximately one hour and forty-five minutes to practically hyperventilate before I would be taken in to the room for surgery.
The doctor informed me that I was only allowed one person in the room with me. They wheeled me into the room where my mom would meet me before they started. I was lying on my back unable to move from the waist down and I watched every person, door, overhead light, and anything else I could see as it passed, practicing my breathing the whole time.
As I was wheeled into the room, I noticed a large number of people. The first to start talking to me was the anesthesiologist and he spoke as though we had been friends for years. This part had gone so fast. I was lifted from my bed and placed in another, given medication so I would not feel any pain, and groomed by a nurse. Yes, groomed. I heard the sound of an electric razor and at that moment, I was very embarrassed. “If I would have known it was necessary, I would have done the landscaping before I came.” I said, surely blushing. I got a few laughs out of the staff and this eased my nerves a bit.
My friend, the anesthesiologist, asked if I could feel some pokes. Apparently, I could not and he said it was time to start. My mom came in and I tried hard to focus on her as they were pulling and tugging and yanking. My body flopped around like a fish struggling for oxygen outside of the water. She was talking to me and I remember feeling what felt like a boulder on my pelvis and then a release of pressure. He was out! Preston was out and I heard him cry. A wave of emotion flooded through me and I just wanted to see him.
They cleaned him off and handed him to my mom. She put his sweet little face next to mine and I was in awe. For thirty seconds I was so happy and I still could not believe I was a mother. Then again, tugging, pulling, and yanking. I requested to be put out for the rest because I could not stand the uncomfortable pressure.
The idea of having a C-section was horrifying. Because the hospital was particularly busy that night, I had approximately one hour and forty-five minutes to practically hyperventilate before I would be taken in to the room for surgery.
The doctor informed me that I was only allowed one person in the room with me. They wheeled me into the room where my mom would meet me before they started. I was lying on my back unable to move from the waist down and I watched every person, door, overhead light, and anything else I could see as it passed, practicing my breathing the whole time.
As I was wheeled into the room, I noticed a large number of people. The first to start talking to me was the anesthesiologist and he spoke as though we had been friends for years. This part had gone so fast. I was lifted from my bed and placed in another, given medication so I would not feel any pain, and groomed by a nurse. Yes, groomed. I heard the sound of an electric razor and at that moment, I was very embarrassed. “If I would have known it was necessary, I would have done the landscaping before I came.” I said, surely blushing. I got a few laughs out of the staff and this eased my nerves a bit.
My friend, the anesthesiologist, asked if I could feel some pokes. Apparently, I could not and he said it was time to start. My mom came in and I tried hard to focus on her as they were pulling and tugging and yanking. My body flopped around like a fish struggling for oxygen outside of the water. She was talking to me and I remember feeling what felt like a boulder on my pelvis and then a release of pressure. He was out! Preston was out and I heard him cry. A wave of emotion flooded through me and I just wanted to see him.
They cleaned him off and handed him to my mom. She put his sweet little face next to mine and I was in awe. For thirty seconds I was so happy and I still could not believe I was a mother. Then again, tugging, pulling, and yanking. I requested to be put out for the rest because I could not stand the uncomfortable pressure.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Labor
continued from A New Start
Being a woman, I always wondered what childbirth would be like. Having a person grow inside me and having the ability to give life to a thinking, breathing human was a fantastic idea. My high school invented a new form of birth control; an informative video called “the Miracle of Life.” We watched it my freshman year and I am sure the idea of having kids was the scariest thing I could imagine after seeing the video. All the fluids and sweating… Gross!
I went in to my last appointment before I would be induced to give birth to Preston. I must tell you these appointments were not fun and having a woman push her hand up and the baby down at the same time was uncomfortable and slightly painful. I knew it would be over soon and he would be here. I was terrified of the unknown and questions whirled around my head like a tornado on a path to destruction. Will I be a good mom? How do I change a diaper? If I cannot change a diaper, how can I have a baby!? Will my body go back to the way it was before? What will I tell Preston when he is old enough to ask about his father?
My mom and I headed to Mary Birch Hospital for Women in San Diego, CA. As we parked the car, I nervously grabbed my things, as I knew I would be a guest of the hospital for a few days. I checked in to the hospital and the nurse started the medication to induce labor. I had my team of supporters with me that included my mom/coach, my dad, my sister Krystle, my brother Mike, and my cousin Shawna.
After six hours of inconsistent contractions, the doctor came in and told me it would be a long night. She asked if I wanted the epidural and I decided it was the smartest option since I would be in that bed a long time. Over the period of 30, yes 30 hours, my team and I watched the monitor as the little needle drew what looked like little mountains every four or five minutes.
The doctor came and did the uncomfortable task of feeling my dilation. She informed me that they would be breaking my water. Screw Hollywood and their glamorous portrayal of childbirth! What happens to the water breaking in some dramatic public situation? My water could have broken while I was angrily yelling at my best friends ex for breaking her heart but no… they used what looked like a crochet hook to break it for me. A flood of liquid that I had to sit in until the nurses could come help me switch bed sheets. Nasty!
It was time to push! The nurse instructed me of when to push and I violently pushed as hard as I could, feeling my face turn shades of red and then purple. I am surprised I did not burst any blood vessels in my eyes or face because I was pushing so hard. I could feel Preston’s head on my pelvis bone and I knew he was not moving. As my coach and the team cheered me on, I kept pushing and as the end of the 2nd hour approached, I started throwing up stomach acid from all the pushing. My vomit was green. That was a first for me and I told the nurse to get the doctor; my baby was not coming out this way...
Being a woman, I always wondered what childbirth would be like. Having a person grow inside me and having the ability to give life to a thinking, breathing human was a fantastic idea. My high school invented a new form of birth control; an informative video called “the Miracle of Life.” We watched it my freshman year and I am sure the idea of having kids was the scariest thing I could imagine after seeing the video. All the fluids and sweating… Gross!
I went in to my last appointment before I would be induced to give birth to Preston. I must tell you these appointments were not fun and having a woman push her hand up and the baby down at the same time was uncomfortable and slightly painful. I knew it would be over soon and he would be here. I was terrified of the unknown and questions whirled around my head like a tornado on a path to destruction. Will I be a good mom? How do I change a diaper? If I cannot change a diaper, how can I have a baby!? Will my body go back to the way it was before? What will I tell Preston when he is old enough to ask about his father?
My mom and I headed to Mary Birch Hospital for Women in San Diego, CA. As we parked the car, I nervously grabbed my things, as I knew I would be a guest of the hospital for a few days. I checked in to the hospital and the nurse started the medication to induce labor. I had my team of supporters with me that included my mom/coach, my dad, my sister Krystle, my brother Mike, and my cousin Shawna.
After six hours of inconsistent contractions, the doctor came in and told me it would be a long night. She asked if I wanted the epidural and I decided it was the smartest option since I would be in that bed a long time. Over the period of 30, yes 30 hours, my team and I watched the monitor as the little needle drew what looked like little mountains every four or five minutes.
The doctor came and did the uncomfortable task of feeling my dilation. She informed me that they would be breaking my water. Screw Hollywood and their glamorous portrayal of childbirth! What happens to the water breaking in some dramatic public situation? My water could have broken while I was angrily yelling at my best friends ex for breaking her heart but no… they used what looked like a crochet hook to break it for me. A flood of liquid that I had to sit in until the nurses could come help me switch bed sheets. Nasty!
It was time to push! The nurse instructed me of when to push and I violently pushed as hard as I could, feeling my face turn shades of red and then purple. I am surprised I did not burst any blood vessels in my eyes or face because I was pushing so hard. I could feel Preston’s head on my pelvis bone and I knew he was not moving. As my coach and the team cheered me on, I kept pushing and as the end of the 2nd hour approached, I started throwing up stomach acid from all the pushing. My vomit was green. That was a first for me and I told the nurse to get the doctor; my baby was not coming out this way...
Thursday, August 6, 2009
A New Start
I would first like to warn any readers that the content in this post might be graphic and not the most attractive of details. However, the content needs to be said for me and other women out there who have had similar experiences as I have.
I had scares before and even though I tried to convince myself this was the same situation, I knew I was lying. With a flurry of butterflies in my stomach, I reached down and proceeded to pee on the little stick. I paced back and forth and stared diligently at the transforming line. Plus sign. I picked up the directions, read them repeatedly, and even tried to read them in Spanish.
Of all the people I knew, I was the last person I could ever imagine to say the words “I am pregnant.” I knew I wanted kids and I knew that I would one day try, but this was just not ok. How could I let this happen? I would say to myself. I was just having fun. And with HIM? What was I thinking?
In the days that followed (the Accepting Period” is what I call it), I knew there was only one option for me. I would be a mother. I would no longer be responsible for just myself. The realization that I had no choice but to grow up hit me like a wrecking ball and I felt dizzy. Maybe that was just the morning sickness. Either way, I knew that it was time to become an adult. I had discussions with my parents who told me they would stand by whatever decision I made. I decided it was time to tell my siblings, all of whom were supportive right along with my parents. My brother’s both asked me the same question “Do you know who the father is?” Thanks guys.
The father. There are a few ways I can go about discussing this part and as much as I would love to demean this person, all I will do is speak honestly about his reaction to the situation. When I called him to tell him I was pregnant with his child, I was ready for him to be upset and definitely scared. Like a slideshow, I played all the different ways the conversation could go in my mind. Still, his reaction took me off guard because I was not ready for him to plead with me to have an abortion. The word never entered my mind even when I first saw the results of the test. When I told him no, he found other means to beg and plead. He said awful words that no women should have to hear from any man. He made sure I was aware of how differently my life would be and he reminded me I would no longer be able to do the things I was doing. No matter how scary all of this information was, the ideas did not sound bad to me.
I will never understand how a man can walk away from something he helped create. I will never understand how it became my “problem” or how it was suddenly my fault that I was ruining someone’s life.
This was not a “problem”. And my life was not and is not ruined…
It is just starting…
To be continued….
I had scares before and even though I tried to convince myself this was the same situation, I knew I was lying. With a flurry of butterflies in my stomach, I reached down and proceeded to pee on the little stick. I paced back and forth and stared diligently at the transforming line. Plus sign. I picked up the directions, read them repeatedly, and even tried to read them in Spanish.
Of all the people I knew, I was the last person I could ever imagine to say the words “I am pregnant.” I knew I wanted kids and I knew that I would one day try, but this was just not ok. How could I let this happen? I would say to myself. I was just having fun. And with HIM? What was I thinking?
In the days that followed (the Accepting Period” is what I call it), I knew there was only one option for me. I would be a mother. I would no longer be responsible for just myself. The realization that I had no choice but to grow up hit me like a wrecking ball and I felt dizzy. Maybe that was just the morning sickness. Either way, I knew that it was time to become an adult. I had discussions with my parents who told me they would stand by whatever decision I made. I decided it was time to tell my siblings, all of whom were supportive right along with my parents. My brother’s both asked me the same question “Do you know who the father is?” Thanks guys.
The father. There are a few ways I can go about discussing this part and as much as I would love to demean this person, all I will do is speak honestly about his reaction to the situation. When I called him to tell him I was pregnant with his child, I was ready for him to be upset and definitely scared. Like a slideshow, I played all the different ways the conversation could go in my mind. Still, his reaction took me off guard because I was not ready for him to plead with me to have an abortion. The word never entered my mind even when I first saw the results of the test. When I told him no, he found other means to beg and plead. He said awful words that no women should have to hear from any man. He made sure I was aware of how differently my life would be and he reminded me I would no longer be able to do the things I was doing. No matter how scary all of this information was, the ideas did not sound bad to me.
I will never understand how a man can walk away from something he helped create. I will never understand how it became my “problem” or how it was suddenly my fault that I was ruining someone’s life.
This was not a “problem”. And my life was not and is not ruined…
It is just starting…
To be continued….
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