Well it was eleven years ago today that Monty and I welcomed the first addition to our family. I was 40 weeks pregnant. At my doctor appointment on the 30th, my blood pressure was high and I had the beginning signs of preclampsia. Since our son was showing no immediate signs of vacating the cozy home he had occupied for for 9 months, my doctor decided to induce before things got any worse. I was told to go home and get plenty of sleep and then be at the hospital at 5am on the 31st. Well it is hard enough to rest when you know you could go into labor with your first child at any time, hard enough to stop thinking "am I ready? Do we have everything we need? Are the baby things clean enough? Is this house clean enough to bring a newborn child into? etc. etc. etc" Just try resting while you count down the HOURS until you know it is gonna happen. I did my best to sleep and got to the hospital right on time. After filling out paper work, hooking up to a fetal monitor, and starting my IV, the medicine to induce labor was finally started at about 7am. Daddy watched cartoons as I tried to rest. Around 930am the doctor broke my water and by noon the contractions were coming pretty strong and I was using the breathing techniques we had learned in our child birth class. I thought I was doing just fine and was handling the labor well but the nurse kept explaining that things were not moving very fast and finally talked me into taking some pain medicine in the IV to "take the edge off". It really did the trick. I could still feel all of the contractions but was in a place that I did not care-the pain was not bothering me. I relaxed. I mean REALLY relaxed. When I was having a contraction I would sit up and breath through it but as soon as it ended my body would relax soooo much that I forgot to breath. Mom kept having to remind me to breath between contractions so often that they finally but an oxygen mask on me. Around 4pm, the nurse again was explaining to me that the process was not going very fast and it was a lot for my body to handle and tried to talk me into getting an epidural. I did not want it and did not feel like I needed it. We seem to think that experts know best and I really wish I would have stuck to my guns but she finally convinced me. I was in pretty hard labor and as soon as the epidural was in place I felt instant relief. The anesthesiologist said it did not look quite right but I told him it felt great so he left it alone. If only he would have stuck to his guns and fixed it then, things may have turned out differently. I felt good and the pain was gone and I slept for a few hours. I woke up realizing that the epidural was working fine for the left side of my body but not at all on the right side. I was in excruciating pain on one side and felt nothing on the other. Several attempts to adjust the medicine did nothing to help. The right side of my body was taking ALL the pain and stress of full blown labor. I was dilated to a 9 for 2 hours until the right side started working against the left side and started to tighten up. All I could do was cry in agony and the babies heart rate was starting to be negatively affected. I was then given the option of taking out the epidural and putting it back in correctly. With contractions 30 seconds apart, I knew there was no way I could have stayed still through that process. At 9:30, the decision was made that the baby was not handling thing well and I was knocked out for and emergency c-section. I remember seeing the gas mask beside me and begging the doctor to put it on me before the next contraction hit. He put his hand on my throat and I was out. I never saw the mask come any closer to my face and later told my mom that I thought he had choked me until I passed out because all I remembered was his hand on my throat. At 9:45 Kenyon was finally born. I was out from the surgery for awhile and got to stop by the nursery window to see my baby in the "baby cooker" on my way back to my room around midnight. Finally at about 2 am he was done cooking and they brought him to my room and I got to meet my son. He was gorgeous!!! He was also asleep and stayed that way until about 8 am. I guess it had been a pretty long night for him as well. I hate that I did not get to hear my son's first cry. I was not the first person he saw or that got to hold him. I did not even get to meet him until he was about 4 hours old and he did not see me until he was about 10 hours old. I wish that we would have had those special first moments of bonding but I do know that with or without that-nothing could have made me love that little baby any more than I did. I can not believe that it has been 11 years since that night. There are so many memories that are as fresh as if they had just happened and I am sure some that I have forgotten but one thing will never change...I get that same feeling I felt when he was first placed in my arms every time he holds my hand or (tries) to climb up on my lap for a little bit of mama's cuddly love time. MY SON! I LOVE THAT BOY!
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