Since I didn’t have this blog three years ago…I thought it only fair to share his birth story on his birthday. For posterity.
If I remember correctly, it was a Wednesday that I went into labor. It all started out pretty normal. I woke up, was feeling kind of funny and then I lost my plug. Then the contractions started in. They didn’t hurt, but they were very regular, but not long enough or often enough to go to the hospital yet. We called my sister, who had an anytime ticket to get here in order to be here for the birth. (She was studying to be a labor and delivery nurse at the time, and has plans to be a midwife.) So Hannah was on her way. Meanwhile, my mom and I made ourselves busy, but not too much, didn’t want to tire myself out. I remember going to the college, because I was still enrolled, and would be graduating in three months, and talking to one of my art professors and a few fellow students. We were pretty sure I was in labor, so we were telling everyone. Now, knowing that I actually was in labor, makes me wonder how I ever went anywhere…but I expected it to be a long time so…. (My mom labored with me for three whole days, so who knew how long it would take.) Then we went to the airport to pick up Hannah, and by that time the contractions were a little closer together, but not still not enough to go the hospital yet. I was just waiting for that five minute apart point. Kevin was at home having a recording session, so Mom and Hannah and I went to the Olive Garden for dinner, and dragged my Grandma along. I was acquainted with our waitress, so we told her I was in labor, and after recommending the eggplant Parmesan, to help out the labor, she told us all about her birth story. (And after that, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be in labor any more…but I digress.) So…I had the eggplant Parmesan. Meanwhile, the contractions are still getting stronger and coming faster. So we go home, and hubby finishes his recording session. At about nine or ten p.m. I have my first noticeably painful contraction. Mom and Hannah go to Grandma’s house for the night, and Kevin and I decide to take a walk to encourage things along. Sure enough, the contractions keep coming. Still regular intervals. Getting stronger. Still waiting for the five minutes apart mark. We walk home and I hop in the shower, yet again to encourage the labor. We crawl in bed and I’m too excited to sleep, but know that it would benefit me, so I try. I don’t know how much I really slept, but I kept my eyes closed until each contraction, when I would look at the clock to see how far apart they were. They were really starting to hurt at this point, and I had started my breathing techniques through them. At about two o’clock, they were pretty strong and definitely close enough together to call the midwife. So we did, and she said to head up to the hospital and she would meet us there. We get up to the hospital and I am happy to see my best friend, Mel, who is the secretary up in labor and delivery. And I’m sure she is excited to see me there too. So we get all checked in, yadda, yadda, you know how it goes. And they check me, and I’m only at a two. Yippee skippee. My labor was progressing just fine, so they gave me the option to stay, but I wanted to try and sleep so we went back home. Some how I made it through the night, with the contractions getting stronger and stronger. In the morning they were to the pretty painful stage. I was hungry, so I tried to eat a few saltines. I wanted to labor as much as possible at home, so we held out as long as we could. I wanted to get in the bathtub to help out with the pain a little bit and I had to crawl to get there, the contractions hurt so bad. Finally, at about 11:30 a.m. I couldn’t stand it any longer and said we need to go to the hospital now. We called Mom and Hannah, and let them know we were going. Kev called his dad on the way to the hospital, and he was embarked on the six hour drive to get here and see his coming grandson. When we got to the hospital they checked me and I was only at a four…a little better, but still a ways to go. So my midwife said I could sit in the jacuzzi. Once I did, I felt a lot better, but I relaxed so much that my contractions slowed down, so I had to get out and walk around. I tried all the other non-drug medical relief techniques like the birthing ball (sent the contractions right up my spine, ouch!), but breathing worked the best for me. Kev was a fantastic coach and held my hand the entire time. He was fully focused on me and that helped me immensely. Eventually I developed a hand movement where I would just move my hands forward like I was pushing something away, every time I had a contraction, and that seemed to really help out too. Finally, once I got to a seven, we decided to go ahead and break my water to get the show on the road. After that it was transition time, which I got to do back in the jacuzzi thank goodness! Then I sort of started feeling the urge to push. I wasn’t real sure about it, but we got out of the tub just in case and back to the room. I remember going to the bathroom and kind of freaking out once I got in there, because the urge to push got a lot stronger and I was worried I was going to be stuck in there giving birth. So everybody got ready for this baby to come out. Then my midwife talked to me about pushing. She said sometimes for first births it can take 2 hours of pushing to get the baby out. I thought to myself, “Aint NO way I’m pushing that long!” I was so tired, I didn’t think I’d last in two hours of pushing. So when I had to push…I PUSHED. Thirty minutes later, his head finally came out, and I said, “THANK GOOOOD!!!” really loud. They had to suction his nose and throat with the special equipment since he had the meconium, but they were good, and they were quick. Then my midwife said I could reach down and grab him, so I did, and my hubby didn’t know that my midwife and I had previously agreed on doing this so he said, “What are you doing, Sarah?!” We quickly assured him it was okay, and then I had my little baby boy in my arms. All gross and squishy, but I barely noticed. What I do remember is that he pooped on me, so they had to clean us both up. I remember looking down at his precious little face and thinking he was the best looking newborn I had ever seen, and he had such luscious big lips. I thought he looked very much like Kevin, with his little nose, lips and brown hair. It was 5:17 p.m. on January 30. He was 7 lbs. 9 oz, and 21 1/2 inches long.
And that is the story of Drew’s birth. Of course, much more happened after the fact, but since this post is already the size of a novel, I will save it for another day.