And Then There Was Dario

We had a baby. It was awesome. I did it! No drugs! I remember every detail. I got super high, naturally. The body is an amazing thing. I am still impressed when I think about it.

After giving birth, there I was, in a hospital with my husband and our new son. My mom headed out right after he was born to give us time to bond and rest. The nurses cleaned up and moved out. It was just us, our little family. Paul, Lanni and Dario. Starting our life together.

So much had changed with my body in such a short time. My big hard belly was gone. I had lost a lot of blood. I had a third degree tear and a bunch of stitches. I did not know what this meant at the time and I really didn't care. I had this beautiful baby in my arms!

I tried to breast feed for the first time not long after he was born. He got it right away. I felt awkward trying to find a comfortable position to hold him. I also felt like I was suffocating him with my giant boob. The nurse helped and reassured me. My husband just kept reminding me that I needed to "push the milk out" and he would flex his arms and chest and make grunting sounds. I love him because he can always make me laugh, but I'm pretty sure that's not how that works.

A strange part about nursing initially was that it caused more contractions. I really didn't remember reading about that. Nursing makes your body make oxytocin, it makes you feel good, bond with your baby and it contracts your uterus to help it shrink back down to size. Very interesting how it all works.

Just after the little guy latched on I was suddenly ravenously hungry and super thirsty. I figure this is where I would be tempted to eat my young if he wasn't so cute and I wasn't all loopy from the hormones. The nurse seemed to know that I would be hungry and brought me whatever she could find since the kitchen was already closed. A half a sandwich, a small bag of pretzels, a banana, a cookie and some juice. She also filled my water jug with the best ice water I had ever had. I hadn't eaten for over 14 hours, that was a super long time for a pregnant lady.

I slept, a little, when the baby slept. A nurse came in the room every hour to check the babies temperature and listen to his heartbeat. I tried nursing every two hours. Dario didn't hardly cry at all that first night. He fussed a little and I would talk to him and he would settle right back down.

We stayed another day and night in the hospital and checked out in the morning. I guess it's called discharge when you leave the hospital, not check out time, but whatever. It wasn't like a regular hospital experience. It wasn't like I was in the ER or had some kind of traumatic injury or surgery. I've decided I'll call it check out time.

The ride home from the hospital was surreal. I rode in the back with Dario. He looked so little in the car seat. His body was mush and he couldn't hold his head back at all. I found myself holding his head the whole drive home, just staring at him. Many hours of just staring at him have followed, and many more are still to come I'm sure.

In my upcoming posts, I will try to go week by week. I am catching up from a lack of writing. For six weeks I have only taken notes. So many changes are happening everyday. I hope to note them here for us to look back on someday. I also hope that my friends and family that aren't close by will enjoy reading, and if someone stumbles on this that has a young child they may take something from it.

Me and Dario, 10/21/2013, 1 day old.

How to Lose 15 lbs in 12 Hours! (Part 2)

We kept on with the same after the doctor left. I would have a contraction every few minutes where I would pause and breathe and focus on relaxing. Time went by, nurses came and went. They checked my blood pressure and made sure the babies heart rate was good and staying steady through my contractions. Everything was fine. My doctor said I didn't need to be hooked up to the fetal monitors and that they could check his heartbeat intermittently. When the nurse came in I told her that and she laughed at me. This was the only nurse that I was not happy with. Everyone else there was amazing.

She went and talked to my doctor and confirmed what I had said. Apparently there is some sort of hospital regulation that you have to check the vitals every 20 minutes or something. So they found some monitors that were wireless to hook me to where I could still move around. The monitors would not stay in place and the not-so-great nurse was getting frustrated trying to find the heartbeat. I knew we were fine and I was trying, and doing well, not letting that nurses frustration and worry rub off on me.

At 2:00 or so my doctor came back and checked me. I was 8cm. She was pleased with the progress and thought that it wouldn't be long until the baby was here. What a relief. Because I was handling the contractions so well, I started to doubt that they were strong enough to make any progress. That was just a fleeting thought and I put it out of my mind, but it was still great to hear the doctors update and know we were getting closer to meeting our baby.

I paced, I sat on the yoga ball, I stretched, I sat on the couch with my husband. We made jokes, laughed, watched Futurama on TV, took pictures. I got a back rub anytime I asked. I was pretty fun. Awesome. The most fun vacation in the most expensive hotel I've ever been to.

It was around five or six o'clock. I was starting to get tired but I was too excited to really nap. My doctor came again and checked me. I was still 8cm. How disappointing. My doctor was concerned about my stalled progress. She said she was surprised I wasn't budging because I was doing everything 'right', walking around, bouncing on the yoga ball, staying upright. She suggested Pitocin. I was double disappointed. I had really not wanted Pitocin. I had made it this far with no pain meds. Can we wait, what should I do?

I agreed the Pitocin after my doctor explained, we decided we would start at the lowest dose possible and give that a while and see what happens. There it was, an annoying nurse, medical intervention. If I had written out a meticulous birth plan and set myself up with unrealistic expectations this is where I would have been super disappointed. The wind would have been knocked out of me. But I didn't. I knew this was okay. This was my story, this was the story of my sons birth. Here we go.

It didn't take long for the Pitocin to start changing my contractions. These were much more intense. Legs shaking, stomach turning. I swore, I called to Jesus, I asked for my mommy. At 7pm there was a shift change and the nurse that was bugging me all day was leaving. Thank God. With these new more intense contractions it would be more difficult to deal with her. The new nurse walked in and knew just what to do. She immediately knew I was close. My doctor checked and I was about 9 1/2cm dilated now. They said I could try to push. First I was on my hands and knees. I was rocking back and forth. Then everything started whirling by me.

More nurses came in. The doctor started to change into her scrubs. The nurse told her to hurry up because the baby was coming. My husband was by my side putting cold towels on my forehead and the back of my neck. I started making hilarious jokes. I said 'Oh, this is when you stop caring if everyone sees you naked.' and 'I'm pretty sure I'm just going to shit all over everyone.' Paul said "Go ahead and shit honey, they don't care, they're getting paid for this."

"Fuck, shit, holy mother of God, Jesus Christ, what the fuck, no No NO!"

Pushing. I thought I had been on the bed pushing only for a few minutes. It's like taking LSD. It's one crazy trip. Sights, sounds, colors, smells, sensations. Everything was there but disjointed and messy. Pushing was hard. I felt out of shape. I was sure I was doing it wrong and I was just going to poop. The doctor reassured me that it was the baby.

I pushed again. I heard someone say "There's the head!". I reached down and felt my baby's head, it was so warm. I felt he had hair. Just the very top of his head was out. I heard my doctor say something had dropped and she told a nurse to call pediatrics. Next thing I know there are two men in the room and more nurses. I saw a scalpel or scissors or some sharp object and didn't care. That would have been on my birth plan: no episiotomy. I would rather tear on my own if I've got to.

Then my doctor says "One more push and you'll meet your baby". I heard my husband gasp. I kept asking him if he was okay. Then came the contraction. I pulled my legs back, put my chin to my chest and gave it all I had left. I felt his head come out, shoulders and then someone grabbed him and put him up on my chest. Two nurses were toweling him off. He was full size! Good looking. A real baby. Oh. My. God. That just happened.

And then he cried. Time stopped. All pain went away. I was just my husband and I looking at our child. It was exhilarating. The next thing I remembered was the doctor telling me she was giving me a local anesthetic to numb me a little while she stitched me up. I felt it. I felt the injection. I felt the pulling. I felt the stitches run through. The whole area wasn't numb but I didn't even care. I was holding my baby, and I was in love with him!!!

It took a long time for the stitches. They took the baby over to a warming table and measured him and checked over everything. My mom and my husband stood around him. He was rated 9 out of 10 on the APGAR scale. He was 8lbs 11oz and 21 1/4 inches long. He was perfect. PERFECT!!! There has never been a better baby in all of human history. Now I know what every mother has felt. It truely is amazing.