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I've been so busy lately taking care of a newborn baby, that I totally skipped over my incredible story of childbirth here on my blog for all of my faithful readers. It's a doozy, so here, let me backtrack.
That is how I would describe the first 8 months of my pregnancy.
I had absolutely NO morning sickness. My body didn't ache one bit. I was still able to touch my toes. And my stomach ... well, I ended up with absolutely no stretch marks on my stomach after having Connor. To me, it was the PERFECT pregnancy.
That is, until the 8th month.
I blame it on the Flash Mob.
There I was, at our Relay For Life Leadership Summit in Dallas, and I, 8 months pregnant, was agreeing to be in my first flash mob ever. The weeks leading up to the event, I practiced over and over with my co-worker back in our boardroom, breaking a sweat, and showing her how to properly do the running man to that ridiculously annoying song - Party Rock Anthem. Yes, me. A BIG, FAT, PREGNANT LADY. Because I didn't feel bad, I didn't think it was having any effect whatsoever on my body. And at the event, when the music came on and we all gathered in the middle of a huge crowd, I got such a rush out of all of their surprised faces, that I busted a move like never before.
I also blame the fire alarm.
At 2 in the morning in our hotel the fire alarm went off and I, again an 8 month fat pregnant lady, had to walk down 18 flights of stairs half asleep because of a false alarm.
I think both of those things contributed to the most excruciating final month of pregnancy ever recorded.
Ok. So not really, but close.
I was driving back to Tyler from a Board meeting and all of a sudden I was having back pain like I had never felt before. I pulled my car over on the side of the road and attempted to step out. When I was unable to stand up straight, I knew then that something was terribly wrong, so I got my cell phone and called Adam.
I thought I was in labor.
Turns out, I was.
Pre-term labor. I was having full on contractions but was told at the hospital that this was NORMAL and to just wait for the baby.
A whole month of full on contractions? I don't think so.
A few days went on and I was back in labor and delivery in the hospital. Long story short, I had all kinds of complications. First, there was a kidney stone that they tried to flush out with fluid. Unfortunately, they forgot to turn the IV down and they filled my lungs up with fluid. That wasn't the only thing that filled up. Here is a picture of my foot after they pumped me too full. The one on the left is my regular "pregnant foot" and the one on the right is what they did to me at the hospital.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is all FLUID.
After my lungs were filled, I ended up with pneumonia. So there I am, 8 months pregnant, having contractions, a kidney stone, and pneumonia. My pain was so intense that they were also pumping me full of morphine. This caused the baby's heartbeat to slow down dramatically, so I insisted that they no longer give me that type of medicine.
When I had been in the hospital for a full week and there was nothing else the doctors could do for me, they sent me home.
[You gotta love that.]
This last month was a nightmare. I had such awful pains in my back that I could not sleep. I remember sitting up all night watching I Love Lucy over and over again praying that this child would just come already.
And fortunately, I didn't have to wait the full month.
2 weeks later (the longest 2 weeks of my life, I might add), my water broke.
But here's the best part. This is the part where I talk about how much faith I have in some of the doctors here in our town.
[That was sarcasm.]
I call my doctor on FRIDAY morning and let her know that my water broke the night before. So she has me come in so she can check me and see what is going on.
"Nope", she tells me.
"Your water didn't break."
"Your water didn't break."
"Maybe you just peed on yourself."
Yep. I kid you not. That's what she told me.
I sit, looking at her like she was a crazy woman, biting my tongue, and thinking to myself -
I absolutely know my water just broke.... You crazy woman.
So home I go. AGAIN. Wondering if every other woman in the world has to go through the same things I am experiencing. Friday night goes by, ...and then Saturday morning,... and finally at about 5pm on Saturday night my contractions get 5 minutes apart.
Up we go to the hospital and I remember thinking - "If they send me home again, I am going to set up camp in the parking lot and I'm not leaving until I have this baby!!!"
But they didn't. I was ready and he was ready and this was it.
Sunday, about 26 hours after I had originally started having bad contractions again, 3 days after my water broke, ... I was finally ready to have this baby.
And this is where the story gets funny.
I've never witnessed child birth. All I have seen is what is in the movies. And you know, in the movies, the woman gives a good 2 or so pushes and there is the baby! I, on the other hand, did not have any pitocin (which most women have to speed up child birth), had already had my epidural for a good 13 hours (so I'm pretty sure I could feel everything by this time), and on top of all of that ... had a completely dry birth because no thanks to my doctor, my water had been broken for 3 DAYS!!!!!
Needless to say, I pushed for 2 and a half hours.
I pushed so hard that I gave myself a black eye. I felt like what I imagine it would feel like when you just finished a triathlon.
Was it the most INSANE final month of pregnancy and childbirth that I could have ever imagined?
But was it worth every minute?
Nothing in my lifetime will ever compare to the moment that the doctor laid that precious baby on my chest. He hadn't been cleaned off yet, and I didn't even care. I was overwhelmed. I remember tears running down into my ears.
The moment that I held that little boy for the first time, it was like everything in my entire life that had ever broken my heart was all wiped away. And it's true what they say. I'd go through every bit of it all over again, just for one time for him to smile at me.
And so THAT, is my incredible story of childbirth.
It's not pretty, I know. But it sure did give me a beautiful baby boy.