Happy Birthday, Cade! I think it's about time I documented a story...not just any story, the birth story. I know it's weird, but I love birth stories. I want to hear everyone's stories about giving birth. Every story is different and unique. Don't spare me any details, I want to hear it all. Mostly I write and post pictures for you, but today I'm mainly just writing for me. Know that it's a very long and detailed story! I've been thinking about Cade's birth story a lot as we hit the one year anniversary of all the milestones. I hope I never forget the details. I'll re-tell it to him every single year. On May 3rd I thought all day about how May 3rd, 2010 was my last day of school last year, unexpectedly. Right in the middle of the sewing unit, of course. We know how much I love the sewing unit.
When I left school on May 3rd, I left in a hurry. I left my desk a mess. I had an ultrasound appointment to get to! My doctor had scheduled one because just to look at me, I was huge. She estimated that I had one big baby growing in there. She called it a "weight check." At the ultrasound they estimated that Cade weighed about 8 and a half pounds (with 2 weeks left to go). While their weight estimations could vary by a pound either way, I was still scared. A 9 and a half pound baby!?! I specifically remember getting a call from my doctor while we were filling up with gas at Quik Trip at about 5:30. She said that the cord was wrapped twice around the neck on the ultrasound. While that wasn't an immediate problem because of the fluid around the baby, we could still take action if we wanted to. She asked if we wanted to be induced TONIGHT. Um, what? Tonight? Like a couple hours from now, tonight?! Uh, ok, I guess. I didn't really know what to think. I'm pretty sure I thought, crap, I left my desk a mess at school. So, not really knowing what to do, but being scared about the cord and the potential for a mega-huge baby we rushed home to pack our bags. I was partially packed already but I found it hard to be packed for the hospital in advance. There were things I needed to take that I used everyday. I couldn't be totally packed until it was go-time.
Go-time had arrived. I took a shower and re-did my hair and make up (just seemed like the right thing to do), we called everyone, took lots of pictures, and started filming our documentary of the event. We stopped by Quizno's to get some sandwiches that we were going to eat at a park before we checked into the hospital. Turns out we both got a little nervous about the time so we scrapped the whole "eating in the park and having this picture-perfect last moment of just the two of us" and ended up eating our sandwiches in the car in the hospital parking lot. I swear we took half our house with us to the hospital. I had no idea what we'd need...or how long we'd be there. I wasn't keen on being induced, but there was no way I was going to chance it with the cord around his neck. Inducing was not part of my idea of an ideal birth plan, but I have no regrets. You do what you have to do and make adjustments to keep everyone safe. Monday night was pretty uneventful. We checked in. Now, everyone had talked about how nice Olathe Medical Center is and how great "The Birth Place" is. Many people compared it to a spa. Let me just clarify for you. I don't know what spa these people have been to before, but I would never compare this place to a spa. It's not super-hospitalish, but a spa, I think not. They rave about this fancy queen bed that folds out from the wall that you get to sleep in after you give birth. More on that later. They gave me something to soften the cervix and I pretty much just had to hang out there in the bed hooked up to machines. Again, not part of my ideal plan, but I did want them to monitor the baby because of the cord. I remember being on the computer finishing up sub plans and emailing co-workers about trivial things like "Friday Treat Day" reminders. I wrote down details in the baby book and recorded the nurses names. I knew this could be a long process but secretly hoped something would kick-start and move quickly. I was too excited to sleep a wink. I was having small contractions, couldn't really feel them but saw on the monitors when they were happening. Not dilated at all.
Fast-forward 24 hours. Still not dilated. Not at all. Contractions--occasionally painful but nothing excruciating, mostly just uncomfortable. They would ask my pain on a scale of 1 to 10. I always said 3. I wasn't sure how painful this situation would get so I figured I better leave ample room for the situation to worsen. They tried another cervix softener on the evening of May 4th. I decided to pretend like May 3rd never happened. I did sleep better. Poor Matt, sleeping in the recliner in the room wasn't fun at all. We both looked forward to that anticipated fold-out queen bed. I woke up at about 3AM May 5th to the sound of my water breaking. I thought, yes, this is it! The pain had worsened dramatically so I requested my epidural. I knew the pain would intensify after the water broke and it could take some time for the anesthesiologist to get there and get things going so I thought I better get my request in early! The nurse wanted me to hold off on the epidural until 5am. Can't remember why, but I did it. I slept SO soundly after the epidural. I remember waking up at 7am and thinking, oh yeah, we're at the hospital, my water broke. My doctor told me I still wasn't dilated even 1 cm and his head wasn't really dropping down. This is when they told me that when my water broke they saw that the water was darker meaning that the baby had a bowel movement already. This was a sign that the baby was in distress and could be a problem. Also, there's the risk of them inhaling the bowel movement and aspirating or it getting in the baby's lungs. Again, risks I didn't want to chance. We decided to proceed with a c-section because at this point waiting for me to fully dilate could take 8 more hours, at least. No thanks. His heart rate kept dipping low so they hooked me up to oxygen and kept having me roll from side to side. I remember being rolled down the hall to the operating room past all of our family. It seemed, weird. I knew everything would be fine but it was somehow still really scary.
At this point (also the point that I was given the laughing gas) I decided I wanted to be a "fun patient." I made jokes, I commented on the anesthesiologists surgical cap and at one point informed my doctor to "be careful because my abs are my best feature." Still a little embarrassed about that. They told us that as soon as the baby comes out they don't want it to cry because they don't want him to breathe in the bowel movement. They warned us it would be a little bit because they had to pump it out before we would hear anything. I was clueless behind the curtain but Matt watched it all. They slit me open, pushed really hard on my stomach, pulled Cade out and went to work on him. Seemed like years, as about a minute and a half went by. Then he cried. And we cried. And took pictures. I was shaking. I distinctly remember Matt rubbing Cade's cheek against mine and feeling like this was the sweetest moment ever. They then proceeded to remove a baseball-sized fibroid from the birth canal. It had been growing inside me blocking Cade's head from dropping down and preventing me from dilating. Mystery solved. The fibroid looked like a ball of tissue, like an organ. I so wish we'd have taken a picture. I know, weird but true.
Next comes the "can't shower, can't feel your legs, can't get out of bed, can't do anything" phase. It took a day and a half before I could get off the epidural and onto other pain meds. I wanted to get out of that bed (I'd been there since Monday, it was Thursday) SO bad. I was getting a little testy during this phase. You know that fancy bed everyone raves about? Turns out that offer is null and void if you have a c-section. I had to stay in the hospital bed. Matt finally brought an air mattress from home to start sleeping on instead of the awful recliner. Cade was the most perfect baby (if I do say so myself) and it was so fun showing him off to everyone who came to visit, despite my nasty bedridden-ness. Thursday night I finally could walk again and actually got to shower. (And by shower I mean sit in the tub on this stool and have Matt hose me down. It was a bonding moment for sure). The rest is kinda a blur. I remember that the food was pretty good. I got to fill out a menu in the morning with my preferences for meals. Their PB&J sandwich was the best thing ever. (Isn't it so fat-kid of me to have liked the hospital food?!) By this point I had long-ago run out of room in the baby book for documenting the names of our nurses. We actually were starting to repeat nurses again since we were STILL THERE. We finally got to go home on Saturday afternoon, May 8th. The house was decorated with blue steamers and balloons. We set up baskets with diapers and wipes in all the main rooms and tried to adjust to this "new normal." Life has not been "normal" ever since.
No one told me how hard it is to be a mom. Or I guess if they did, I didn't listen. For me, the hardest part is what I don't know. I don't know if I'm doing it right. I don't know how to find the perfect balance of responsibilities at home and at school. I don't know where I should make sacrifices and where I should never cut corners. With each new phase comes new unknowns. But looking back on this year I'm so, so thankful. Thankful for the ways I've been stretched, for the things I've learned. Thankful for the journey. And most of all, thankful we're not alone on this journey. Life is a team-sport. We have so many wonderful people around us to help us and guide us. We have amazing families, friends, and co-workers who support us and are there for us when we have questions. So many people texted and called with birthday wishes for Cade. It really meant a lot to us. I can't believe it's already been a year.
