Introducing Max the Magnificent; Part 1

We have officially entered into the realm of parenthood. Grab the burpie cloth and shield yourself from the “automatic sprinkler”…..because this is going to be one heck of an adventure!

It was Tuesday the 17th, and time for our 39 week prenatal appointment. Riding the elevator, we found another pregnant couple beside us. The girl rested her head on her husband’s shoulders and I found an expression of discomfort spreading over her face. On closer inspection, the husband was carrying an over night bag. They were on their way to have their child.

Upon arriving to the 3rd floor of the hospital, you come to a fork in the hall; to the left are the doctor’s offices, to the right, Labor and Delivery. We always turn left. The laboring couple turned right. I silently wished them well in my thoughts, as I watched them quickly disappear around the hall following the flying storks adoring the walls.

“Just think, we’ll be turning down that hall like them soon,” I said to Jeremy.

I never would have thought those word would be more true.

The doctor performed a membrane sweeping, a routine procedure at this time in pregnancy. She mentioned that it may speed up labor, it may not. Now, since this was my first pregnancy, I expected to go past the due date, no matter how hard I hoped the baby would come early, so I half expected it to work. And, I also expected when I actually did go into labor, for labor to last over 10 hours or more.

Boy was I wrong on both assumptions.

By that afternoon, I began feeling what I assumed to be contractions, although I had no clue if that was actually what I was experiencing, as they weren’t all that painful, just kinda crampy. I began to time them, which were roughly 10 minutes apart, but nothing very consistent. I shrugged it off.

By that evening, Jeremy and I went to grab some quick dinner, since we were still shopping around for cars and were going to test drive later that night. But, while at dinner, the so called contractions were coming more frequent and becoming a little more uncomfortable. Jeremy began timing them. 5 to 7 minutes apart. Jeremy couldn’t finish his dinner. Although he remained calm, I could tell the realization that this was it, was drastically settling upon him.

We headed home and decided to get everything ready to go to the hospital. And, of course, the paranoid person I am, asked that he do some quick cleaning around the house. After all, if this was it, I didn’t want to come home from the hospital to a disarrayed home! Reluctantly, Jeremy quickly straightened up and got everything ready to go, grabbing cell phone chargers, overnight bags, a little personal hand held fan (which saved my life that night) and the camera. We were on our way.

We reached the hospital around 10pm, just in time for me to lose my dinner in the parking lot. That was fun. The contractions were starting to get fairly painful, and we moved more quickly, only to pass another laboring couple walking around outside.

“Good luck,” the husband said to us in passing, as he supported his struggling wife.

Boy, was it that obvious I was in labor? I still was in half disbelief that this was truly it.

The next few hours were a blur. The contractions were becoming very painful, and upon admittance I was already 4cm. They asked if I wanted any drugs or an epidural.

“YES, please,” I replied.

They hook up an i.v. and the sedatives they admitted kicked it within seconds. My eyes felt heavy and next thing I knew, I entered into either sleep or unconsciousness (which I have no clue), only to awaken in a surreal fog for each excruciating contraction.

Three hours pass of this, and the three bags of i.v. fluids needed prior to the epidural were fully pumped in me and the epidural cart finally entered the room. But, before they administered it, they tell me to roll over to my side as my blood pressure was dropping and the baby’s heart rate was dropping. I do so, clenching on the rails of the bed through yet another insane contraction.

“I feel like I need to push,” I panted.

So, they check me out.

“You’re 10cm, you’re ready……no time for an epidural now,” the nurse replied.

“What?! No!” I cried. I completely freaked out. I was so terrified of the pain that I broke down in a panic. Both Jeremy and the nurse became stern, as they recognized my impending break down and forcefully told me to “stop it!” and “focus and breath”. In my painful fog, I almost felt offended. After all, shouldn’t they be on my side and comfort me?

It was a good thing they did. Three very quick and painful pushes later, Max Orion was born at 1:05am, weighing in at 7.5 pounds and 19 inches. Even being a slight shade of blue in the beginning, he passed all his scores. Ten fingers, ten toes and cried like there was no tomorrow on the warming table.

Only a mere couple months ago, I predicted he’d be born on this date. Something about a Full Moon, if I recall. Did I call it or what?

The rest of the night was a dreamy blur. The sedatives were still circulating my tired and worn body, but I held my baby and it felt wonderful. First thought was that he looked just like Jeremy. My eyes were heavy still, and with each labored blink to stay awake, family appeared. I recall telling everyone as we entered the recovery room that Jeremy was to hold him first before family ravaged him.

It was amazing and incredibly emotional to watch the look on Jeremy’s face when he held him.

Yeah, that was all worth it.