LOOOONG birth story

I've been trying to write this over the past three days, so sorry if it sounds disjointed. I've emailed pictures of Micah, so for now I won't be posting them here. If you didn't get pics and you'd like to see them, leave me a comment and I'll email them to you.

So, here's our story...

Last Friday, February 4, I had contractions that were regular and I thought it was time for sure, but they went away after a few hours.
Sunday, Terry and I had lunch with Mel and then went walking at a park trying to get labor started. We went home and I wasn't feeling well, so we settled in to watch the Super Bowl by ourselves instead of going out. Well, IMMEDIATELY at kick off, I had a contraction. They continued every 10 minutes. I was supposed to call my Dr. when they were 5 minutes apart. I knew that could take hours, so I didn't get too excited. Well, within the next 2 hours they were already 3 minutes apart.

I'd called my Dr. when they were 6 1/2 min apart and before she could even call me back I was in so much pain, that I told Terry we weren't waiting for her call, we were leaving right then. A Doctor (my Dr.s partner, since it was her turn on call- her name was Dr. Dimino. We thought that was good luck) called when we were walking to the car and told us she'd tell the hospital we were on our way.

In the car on the way there my contractions got to 2 min. apart. I felt silly, but the only way I could deal with them was to use the weird breathing I'd learned in class. We got there and they had me change out of my clothes and put a gown on. I was contracting so badly I couldn't get undressed without Terry's help. They assigned me a nurse (who was wonderful and young and laughed at The Family Guy with us later- at Women's hospital, your nurse stays with you the whole time, which is so great!). The nurse checked me and I hadn't dilated any more than I had been at our last appointment. This was unusual since my contractions were so close together. By the time my Dr. got there I was crying and shaking through contractions and I didn't have enough time between them to gain strength for the next one. I remeber thinking, I hope this kid is great, because it's the last one I'm ever having.

The Dr. said I could have pain meds in an IV and when I got to 3 centimeters I could have an epidural. My nurse had trouble getting a good vein for the IV, and I was in so much pain, that she eventually settled for one on the back side of my arm, which I liked because needles make me queasy, and this way I didn't have to look at any cords going into my arm all day.

After these meds took effect everyone had a good time laughing at my expense. Apparantly they couldn't understand a word I was saying and laughed everytime I talked. My mom said I was talking in tongues. It was weird for me, because I felt so alert and could understand that they were laughing at me and I didn't get why they couldn't understand what I was saying.
It didn't take long before my contractions were worse and I could feel them through the meds, so I got an epidural. They made even Terry leave for this part and I was so scared, but it really didn't hurt at all.

After this, everything was a breeze. I let people other than Terry and my parents into the room, and we watched tv and I slept a lot. Around 3:30 the nurse checked me and I was 9 cm. I told Terry to call my sisters so they could come up to the hospital and then to alert everyone in the waiting room that it wouldn't be too much longer. Then I realized I'd be pushing soon and I got overly anxious and pushed my little epidural button twice even though it wasn't wearing off at all. Well, this made my legs so numb that I couldn't feel them at all and felt like I was paralyzed. The nurse had me practice pushing and I couldn't because I had no feeling in my legs thanks to the extra meds I'd given myself. So we waited longer for the meds to wear off a little.

Later, she watched the monitors and when I had a contraction she and Terry each grabbed a leg and pushed it towards my chest, then she had me take a deep breath, push my chin to my chest and push to the count of ten. This was supposed to be just a practice push, but she said, "Oh, I see the head!" So she called the Dr and the other nurse in.
Then I did the pushing thing about 15 more minutes and on one push the Dr. suddenly yelled, "GENTLE!!" And I knew it was the head coming through. I said, "Do you need me to push or something?" And she laughed. (At this point his head was already out) I felt her twisting his head to get the body to slip out, and then I felt Micah come out and I looked down and there he was, all cute and fat. (He was 8 pounds 6 ounces, and 19 1/2 inches long).

They laid him on my chest and were rubbing him to clean him and keep him warm. He was so good, not crying or anything. I had him about 30 seconds then they took him to the other side of the room where Terry watched him get cleaned, weighed, and tested.

He was so beautiful and it was all so surreal, like watching someone else have a baby.
The Dr. stayed and delivered the placenta, which I didn't feel at all and then scraped the inside of my uterus to get out clots (which I did feel). She told me I'd ripped down and also up (didn't even know you could rip up!). I was bleeding a lot so the sutures she was trying to put in kept slipping and it took a long time for her to stitch me up. It was miserable seeing Micah on the other side of the room when all I wanted was to hold him.

I finally got to hold him and while I did the nurse pricked his heel to test for low blood sugar. (All babies over 8 pounds have to have this test). She said it wasn't a big deal, and that only 1 in 1000 babies have it. She ran his blood right there in the room with us and then sudddenly she cursed loudly. It freaked me and Terry out. She said, "His levels are supposed to be at least 50 and his is 41." I said, "What does that mean?" And she tried to explain. The only word I heard was diabetes. I freaked. She said we'd have to take him to the nursery right away, but none of my family had seen him yet and they'd been there all night. So, she said she'd bring me a bottle (I was forced to give him formula to try to get the blood sugar high enough.) and I could let family in but they could only stay one minute. So, family members paraded in and out and took a few pics, then they took Micah off.

They brought me breakfast and Terry and I tried to sleep. Then they moved us into a recovery room and we slept more there.

After four hours I called the nursery to see why they hadn't brought Micah back. They said after the bottle, his test was still low, so they had to give him another one and run the tests again. They did this three times and we had to wait 6 hours to see our baby boy again. When someone knocked on our door and they finally rolled Micah in I cried I was so happy. They said his tests were still low and that his energy was really low because of it, and if we had any problems getting him to eat at least every three hours they'd have to bring him back to the nursery for more blood tests.

Terry and I enjoyed our little guy and played with him for a long time in between naps. Micah, thankfully took to breastfeeding like a pro and we never had to face anymore low blood sugar issues.

Staying at the hospital was great because you're so taken care of. All I had to do was push a button and my nurse would come in with glorious vicodin or codine. Nice!

We came home Wednesday at 1:30 and since then time has been a blur. We can't get enough of him and it's painful to let him sleep sometimes when you'd rather be snuggling him. All day long Terry and I take turns exclaiming how wonderful/beautiful/handsome/perfect he is. He's such a joy and we get a kick out of every new face, noise, motion.

I'm so happy to have him here finally. I've got to say- this is the best thing in life and it makes me cry just to think of getting to spend the rest of my life being Micah's mommy!