Sweet nugget, you have been here for ten days now. I knew I would love you, but I just wasn't prepared for all of the feelings. I am all at once smitten and proud and protective and oh my god, look at those toes! You are easily the most perfect thing I've ever witnessed. Your journey into this side of my belly was no less dramatic than your journey into the womb.
I had a lovely birth plan, a doula, and every confidence that I could and would do this birth thing as naturally as possible. My original plan was to have you at the birth center. Midwives, a big tub to labor in, essential oils diffusing, calming music playing, no drugs. You know, just like I was supposed to get pregnant immediately after your daddy and I got married and usher you into the world 9 months later. Right. I have no idea why I didn't accept from day one that I had zero control over this story.
Lesson in non-attachment: check.
The birthing center wasn't an option. Mama is more mature than your average first time mom. Whatever. Mama is old. I'm 41 (soon to be 42) and this number freaks insurance people out. So, plan B! Are you amused at my plan making yet? So so funny. The partner OB/GYN office for the birthing center was recommended to me, and I thought this would be a good alternative. Surely, they would be on board for all my hippy dippy visions of my birth experience. I went and met my doctor very early in my pregnancy and she was lovely. On board, indeed.
As we approached your due date, sweet doctor suggested we have an induction date, just in case. At my age (so very old), complications are much greater with each passing week, so getting you out by your due date was her goal. Mine was to naturally induce labor before that induction date. I'll spare you the details on that. We know how my track record is with the plans.
(Dad Interruption: See this post for my in-depth analysis of natural induction techniques)
We check into the hospital the evening of the induction date, and buckle in for the ride to come. They're going to apply some medicine to my very stubborn cervix, which hasn't dilated really at all, and that should get things rolling. It does actually cause contractions to start, but after many hours, we discover that it's done actually nothing in the way of labor progression. Step 2: manually dilate the cervix. Again, I will spare you the details. You can google it when you're older, or whatever the equivalent thing will be in your crazy technological future. The basic gist is: ouch ouch ouch! and fine, it worked, somewhat. 3cm dilated and serious contractions and now sweet doctor breaks my water. Which, by the way, is an obscene amount of fluid. Seriously, did you order the Olympic sized swimming womb?
Really serious for real contractions at this point! Sweet doctor is now way done with her 24 hour shift at the hospital. Now her partners will be finishing this job. Strangers (though very kind and clearly capable ones) have entered my very much adjusted birth plan. This is a trend one must become very comfortable with, by the way. The amount of strangers who would ultimately see my ladythangs hit record numbers in just a few short days.
After some serious labor that had me doubting my ability to do this without many drugs, hubby calls the doula in. She was bathed in light and goodness when she entered. I don't know what I'd have done without her. She really did calm me, get me into positions to labor in that helped tremendously, helped me breathe, and made me believe again, that yes, I could indeed do this without pain meds. After a couple of hours, the very nice partner doctor entered the room to see how things were progressing. I HAD to be really dilated by now. Contractions were strong and very close together and if this were a movie, we'd be long into the pushing phase by now.
Instead of announcing that we were ready for pushing, he said something to the nurse I didn't quite get, then calmly but firmly, told me that things would move very quickly now. The cord was in a position of prolapse, which basically means that it was between your sweet head and my stubborn cervix. So, every time I had a contraction, the cord was being pushed toward the opening cervix and squished by your head. It's a good thing that cervix was so stubborn, because it still wasn't open enough to let cord through, which would have been a serious scary emergency. As it was, we had only a mildly scary emergency.
New plan (non-negotiable, I had no say in it): emergency c-section. The bad news? This was not the birth experience I ordered. The good news? All I could really think about was making sure you were ok and getting you into my arms as quickly as possible. I didn't care at all about the plan anymore.
You were staring into my eyes just minutes later. Perfect and alert and loudly announcing your presence into the world. You needed a little help getting your lungs clear, but you're a strong little man and you were brought to me while I was still in recovery, your lungs pumping like a champ and so very hungry. You've been so hungry since, and you are growing and changing already, every single day.
As you lie in your bassinet next to me, I can't help but be overwhelmed with the love I feel for you. I'm so grateful that you're mine. I could not dictate your story, though I sure did try. As you grow and become the man you will be, I'm sure I will fight that same struggle of wanting more of a say in your narrative, more influence in the decisions you make. I will do my best to remember that you have your own story to tell. I will teach you all that I can and try to help you to make good decisions, but in the end, you will be the author of your own life. I'm so excited to watch it unfold. Welcome to the world, Archer. You are so loved.
Love, Mama
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