I woke up on Tuesday, February 14th, feeling a little funny. And by funny, I mean that I just didn't feel like myself. But I brushed it off, hoisted myself out of bed ("hoisted" is the correct word here, as I felt like a beached whale...) and got ready to go to dentist appointment that morning and my 40-week appointment that afternoon.
**Side Note: I love my dentist(s). Dr. M and his wife were/still are Erik's dental team, and when I was looking for a new dentist, he recommended them. They're about 40 minutes away from us, but they're worth the drive.**
Anyway, I had scheduled myself for a cleaning that day because I figured that I wouldn't have much time to schedule a visit after the baby was born. I also figured that I would treat myself to some California Tortilla (I'm addicted to the honey lime burrito... in case you ever want to bribe me...) for lunch after the appointment. While I was getting ready to go, I discovered that I had lost/was losing my mucous plug (is that a TMI moment there? Sorry...). I knew that didn't necessarily mean that something was going to happen THAT DAY, but it did mean that something (baby) was definitely going to arrive sometime in the near future (duh, right?). I finished getting ready and got into my car, ignoring the cramps I had been feeling at irregular intervals, because, again, I knew that until they were regular, it wasn't really anything for me to be concerned about. My "official" due date was the next day, but with this being my first baby, I figured he'd be a little late.
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| 40 weeks... I look so comfortable, don't I? |
Dr. M's staff knew that I was due the next day and when I came in they all asked how I was doing. I mentioned the cramps (that I knew were contractions) and they said what I knew... if they weren't regular yet, then it could still be a little while. I chatted with Dr. M's wife as she cleaned my teeth, talking about baby and work and what Erik was currently up to (they looooooove Erik). Dr. M checked my teeth after the cleaning was done and proclaimed me good to go. They all wished me luck and I headed out the door.
I suddenly wasn't really feeling California Tortilla. I thought that maybe a light lunch would be better... just in case. So when I got home I made myself some tomato soup and browsed the internet until it was time for my 40-week check-up appointment. At the appointment, my blood pressure measured a little high, and I mentioned to my doctor that I was having contractions, that they were getting stronger, but still weren't coming in regular intervals. While I was babbling about this, she was trying to locate a heartbeat. She could hear it (I could, too), but it wasn't very loud in the pelvic area, which is where it was ridiculously loud just the week before. So she moved the doppler around a little bit. Further up my belly. Up towards my ribcage, and there it was, loud and strong, and not where it was supposed to be. She pulled out the ultrasound machine to check our little guy's position, and there he was -- head, back and bum curled up in my ribcage, feet hanging out in my pelvis. She told me that as I left this appointment, she was going to call the hospital and tell them I was on my way in for a c-section, and I was to call my husband and tell him the same...
I started to cry on my way home. Erik and I had talked about how a c-section would probably be more difficult in terms of healing. I got home, double-checked my already packed bag, and we left for the hospital as soon as Erik finished eating a slice of pizza. Labor and Delivery was a busy place -- we had to wait about half an hour for a room to be cleaned and prepared. Apparently, lots of babies chose Valentine's Day to be their birthday. Then it was hurry up and wait some more. An 8pm c-section turned into a 9pm. Then it was "just 10 or 15 minutes" until 10pm. They took me back and worked on giving me my epidural. And I do mean "worked" in every sense of the word. I knew I had a slight curve to my spine, and had mentioned this to my doctor. I had no idea how severe it really was. Twenty minutes later, the anestesiologist (did I spell that right? I doubt it.) was still trying to to get the epidural in. But as soon as she did, the rest of the preparations happened quickly. Before I knew it, they were calling for Erik and making the incision. Jacob arrived at 10:27pm. I thought about two things -- how is he? and holy crap, I'm so thirsty. I kept begging for ginger ale or water. The nurses brought Jacob over. Erik held him up to me and I touched his tiny little face. Our baby boy was finally here! But I was so out of it. I barely remember being in the recovery room, though I definitely remember telling my mother-in-law that under no circumstances was I to be included in photographs! And for the record, I wasn't :-)
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| Daddy holds his baby boy |
But we've made it home, and my recovery hasn't been as difficult as we had thought. I'm one of the lucky few who can say that, I know. And as every day passes, I love my little guy more and more. And even though I didn't want a Valentine's Day baby, I couldn't be happier that he arrived when, and how, he did. Was it perfect? No. Was it how we thought it might happen? Definitely not. But it's a great story that we have for him for the future.
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| Recovering as a family of three (Feb. 15) |
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