Dyan's Birth Story - Part 2

On Sunday, November 19th, Jim's parents were supposed to come over, after the Steeler game, to see how we had decorated the nursery. While I cleaned and straightened up the house, Jim read the newspaper. I'm guessing Jim has conveniently "forgot" that part of the story, but it is true.

We started watching the game late, since it was on DVR, and you know, Jim needed to finish reading his paper. Dylan always seemed to kick the most when I was sitting watching television, and he really seemed to kick a lot during the Steeler games for some reason. At about 2:30 in the afternoon, he kicked really hard, and I jumped. "OW! Jim, he just kicked me so hard!" At 2:45 my water broke. It didn't gush out, as I had expected, and I made it upstairs to the bathroom without Jim even knowing what was happening. After I gave myself a mental pep talk, I called down, "Jim?" "Yea?" "Can you bring me the phone?" "Why?" "My water just broke. I need to call the doctor".

I have to say, my husband is very laid back. I knew, though, that he was nervous about his role. To be honest, I was nervous about how he would be also, but I was very pleasantly surprised. He was calm, (at least outwardly), and got right to work. "What do you need me to do first?" "Pack the car, while I call the doctor". I called the doctor at 3:00, and she told me to go to the hospital, even though, "this could take a while". I sat in the front on the way to the hospital and gave Jim directions, in between contractions. Jim called his parents and I called my dad ( my mom was out Christmas shopping). We told them they didn't need to come to the hospital yet, and that we would call them when the time was right.

When we checked in, the nurse behind the counter kept firing questions at me. I would stop talking every once in a while, to have a contraction, then continue answering her. When she was finally done, she said she just needed to print out our information, and then we could head to triage. I really wanted to lie down, but would you believe, her printer picked that exact moment to stop working? She was laughing, and chatting away, while trying to fix that darn printer, and I was in my happy place where printers aren't needed. Finally, I think I shot her the eyebrows while breathing in through my nose, and out through my mouth, and she said to go ahead to triage and she would come find us when she got the printer working.

In the triage room, another nurse started asking me questions. The only one I remember was, "Natural or drugs?" (I might be paraphrasing here). I remember saying, "I would like to do this naturally, but I reserve the right to change my mind". My doctor wasn't there yet, so another doctor came into the room, to "see where we were at". I heard her say, "She's fully dilated! The baby's head is right here!", and suddenly the room was a flurry of activity. They all started rushing around, and suddenly I was being wheeled down the hall, with Jim chasing after us!

Once they got me in the delivery room, I started pushing. It was around 4:30 and my doctor didn't arrive until 5-ish. I was pushing, but the baby's head was stuck, and wasn't moving much with each push. I wanted to punch the nurse, because with each push, she would scream, "THAT'S THE PUSH!", but nope, not the push. The doctor decided to do an episiotomy and THAT was the push. At 5:54pm, there he was. I had never seen anything more amazing. When he wrapped his hand around my finger, I knew that my life would never be the same.

*For those of you keeping track, Dylan was born 3 weeks early, and my entire delivery lasted only 3 hrs. (I always did like the number 3!) And, yes, there were no drugs. For those of you severely hating me right now, I would just like to remind you that Dylan had colic for the first 4 months of life, and screamed until I thought my head would explode. Things have a way of balancing out. For those of you who had long, agonizing deliveries AND a baby with colic, my sincerest apologies and absolute admiration. You may now throw things at the screen and scream obscenities. Our lamaze class had a reunion, a few months after all the babies were born. After we all met the babies and got caught up, we sat in on another Lamaze class in progress. We went down the line, and told our birth stories one at a time. I was first. Each story after mine seemed to get worse, and worse, and by the end, a guy in the class, who by this point looked rather pale, asked while pointing at me, "Why didn't you let her go last?!"

Dylan's Birth Story - Part 1

Two years ago...

"Jim, I'm going to sign us up for Lamaze classes, okay?"

"Uh...Okay...What exactly do you do in Lamaze classes, again?"

"You learn how to have a baby without passing out, or murdering your spouse in the delivery room".

Blink, Blink.

"Jim, it's okay! They teach you about what is going to happen during delivery, and give you techniques to use, so that you can have the baby naturally".

"Naturally?! You aren't going to take drugs? Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not sure, but I would like to, and I think the classes will help us feel calmer about everything, don't you?"

"Jim?"

Blink, Blink.


So, we went to the classes, and they did help us feel calmer. The teacher was fantastic, and looking around at the other nervous couples made me feel like everything was going to be fine. After learning how to go to "my happy place" and concentrate on my breathing, I started frequenting that beach quite often, for all sorts of reasons.

By November, I was big and uncomfortable, but I was feeling confident. My due date was December 8th. We had one more Lamaze class to go, and then we would start the final preparations - packing the hospital bag, finishing the baby's closet, and stocking the fridge with groceries for when we returned home from the hospital.

Monday, November 13th, I went in for my first internal exam. The doctor calmly informed me that I was "2 1/2 centimeters dilated, fully effaced, and that the baby had dropped". I had learned what all that meant in the classes, but all that meant to me was, "OH MY GOD! THE BABY IS COMING!!! I'M NOT READY!!! I HAVE ONE MORE LAMAZE CLASS!!! I NEED THAT ONE!!! IT SURELY HAS ALL THE MOST IMPORTANT STUFF!!! I HAVEN'T PACKED THE BAG YET...I HAVEN'T...I HAVEN'T... Breathe in through your nose, Breathe out through your mouth...Happy place time..."

That Thursday evening, November 16th, we made it to our final Lamaze class. When I told the instructor what the doctor had said, her eyes got big and she glanced down at my belly, before she visibly recovered to tell me, "Don't worry. It could still be a few more weeks". Worry? Who was worried? We had packed the hospital bag, and bought some groceries, and really, does a baby care about a closet? As long as I didn't have the baby during this class, everything would be fine, but I needed this last class.