This isn't a beauty pageant. Its a scholorship program.

* Shilae asked for my birth story. Were you joking Shilae? You were weren't you? Oh well. I had typed it up already mainly because whenever people ask me about Noelle's birth I can only shrug and halfheartedly say that I am pretty sure I was there. (The rest is a blur). For several days after Jadon was born I told EVERYONE that that was for sure my last child. (If I had to do the whole labor thing again). Now every time I kiss him, or rock him I can't help but think that I may need several more...So. This is for me--to remind me--so I won't forget what labor was like--and that next time I will be smart enough to get an epidural. (Or hope that the millennium comes first!)

PS Most of it was written right after--the rest finished today. Forgive the tense changes.


April 9, 2010

2:00
After convincing myself and everyone around me that I was going to have this baby early, I find myself in the hospital two days after my due date, with a steady stream of pitocin working its magic.

Its the second time around and I am still ignorant about these things. We arrived at noon, but it has taken two hours just to get to this point. I remember being in good humor when I birthed Belle, so I have tried that method again.

"Are you going to have a Doula?" the nurse asked.

I pointed at Jace. "Nope. I brought my Dude-la instead."

The nurse laughed, probably thinking I was in trouble. Little does she know that my tall dark and logical husband has actually been gifted with the exact science of keeping me motivated, calm, and focused.

The nurse checked my heart, the babies heart, my lungs, my blood pressure, and then she even turned off the lights to check my eyes. She held the flashlight in front of me and I asked, "Am I dilated to a ten yet?"

It took her a second. I got a small chuckle.

4:00
Apparently this "super-posh-its-almost-like-being-at-the spa" hospital only has one thingamajig that lets patients walk around while being hooked up to monitors. My nurse bartered with the woman using it and we have been doing laps ever since. In between contractions I feel like the geriatric ward at Sunshine Terrace, but then they come and I am Apollo on the final lap.

The heart rate monitor keeps coming off so the thingamajig goes back to the other mom-to-be and Jason and I head for plan B: the birthing ball.

I bounce, Jason takes me places. He takes me scuba diving, hiking to Koko head, down the Snake River rapids, and to the beach.

The nurse checks me and decides I don't need the Pitocin anymore. Hallelujah! I float around in labor land for an unknown amount of time. Without pitocin the contractions are bearable, but I worry I am not progressing.

7:30
I'm dilated to a 5. They decide to break my water. Up until this point I have been "on top" of the pain. My first contraction after breaking my water feels like spontaneous human combustion and all my confidence in myself is completely gone.

The nurses are switching shifts and the first thing the new nurse asks is if I want an epidural. Logic is not an attribute right now and of course I say yes. Then she tried to talk me out of it and checks to see how far I am dilated. I went from a five to an eight in less then fifteen minutes. (That's what happens when your insides are imploding!)

Unlike Noelle's birth I can actually feel exactly where the baby is and know that it is time to push--its painful not to push, but the Dr. isn't there yet. A nurse tech comes in all chipper and giddy to change out supplies. I go totally Jeckel on her and tell her to shush up. The doctor finally shows up. The minute she is in the room I tell her I am going to start pushing. (Patience isn't an attribute anymore either...)

Again, unlike Noelle's birth I know exactly how to push. At this point I was ready to sprint to the finish line. I was told to wait until a contraction to push but I was pretty certain that I was just one big contraction. So I pushed, and pushed (they told me to take a break but instead) I pushed and pushed (and there is a reason that Dr's wear goggles) and then--they laid a bluish purple creature on my chest and I felt exactly 8 lbs six ounces lighter.

You know--its easier to write about the pain, and the blood and guts of a birth story than it is to write about those first few moments when you see your baby.

I remember what I did at this point. I profusely thanked the Dr (who I had never been much of a fan of) the nurses, and even felt guilty for yelling at the nurse tech. In the world of mood swings I was doing the Tarzan. I was 100% elated that Jadon was healthy and HERE! I was 100% thrilled that I had survived labor and that (honestly) it was over.

I am still mulling over the feelings I have for Jadon. Total wonderment. Babies are such miracles, and I know I should be able to articulate that better, but that is all I can really say.

The end.