You know in the movies when you see women just screaming and screaming and then finally with one hearty push a baby just shoots out? Although true for some, that was not what happened to me. So gather around once more for a health dose of oversharing....
So I have assumed the birthing position. My sister is planted at the top of the bed and petting my head during the "rests" in between contractions. My Husband is straight up CHATTING with the nurse like it's just a lazy Sunday. So I kick him. But all that melts away when the nurses says "Here comes the head". I am instantly equal parts relieved to have made it to this ::cough cough:: crowning achievement (Pun intended) and also terrified that this baby has not shot out like a nerf gun.
So as I rest between pushed, I look to my husband for some motivation but he is looking down and exclaims....... "Oh Shit". So! I look up at my sister so she can reassure me that I'm not cracking open like an egg but she is no longer in the safe-zone. She too wants to know what "Oh Shit" looks like and has moved down for a front row seat.
Now friends, I do have a regret. I was offered a mirror so that I could watch what all this "Oh Shit" business was about and I declined. I now kind of wish that I hadn't. I've read a few articles that say that using a mirror can actually help with labor progression so that moms can see which pushes are successful and which are not. But mostly its because after the top of his little head came into view I don't remember too much other than the disappointing sighs from my family as baby got sucked back up after every push. Yes, little dude was STUCK.
So this was the part that got kind of scary. Time seemed to stop. At some point little dude got a monitor stuck to the top of his head to ensure that he wasn't in distress. So after a we got into a rhythm of pushing and breathing the nurses told me I could "rest for a few" Um what? No. I don't think so... I got more and more frustrated and desperate with each push until BAM, with complete disregard for the female anatomy, out he came.
He was pronounced a boy and ushered away for a check up. Little man was SUPER blue which I later found out terrified my sister. This is also why he saw the doctors before I held him. So while they were checking him out I had to deal with the dreaded ...after birth. I wont go full detail but it is painful and it is gross. Husband was white as a ghost and they asked if he needed to sit down. After that I had the pleasure of getting so many stitches that I required additional numbing (even though I had a crappy Epidural). After realizing it was taking a really long time I asked "How many are you putting in there?!?" as I look to my sister for assurance that I wasn't going to need rounds of reconstructive surgery.
During this time the NICU doctor checked on my little boy and the nurses proclaimed that he had "incredibly long toes" while holding him up so I could see. He was bundled up, I was cleaned up, and my mom and the family waiting outside the room join us. He had his first meal (yes with all those dang people in there) and I facetimed my Dad because he was away on a Business trip. Then the nurses took him for some additional testing while we moved into a recovery room.
So that is his Birth Story. The following 3 days in the hospital were absolute torture. Worse than the birth itself in many ways but that is another story for another entry.
Welcome to the World Archer-Man :)
