Friday, March 6, 2015

Long Overdue...

*This post is coming to you about 5 1/2 months late. This past week has been rough for us. Oliver was in the hospital for a few days and then both of us got food poisoning later in the week. We decided to share this story, because it is so incredible, and a great reminder of God's protection. The first part is from my (Britney's) perspective and the second is from Caleb's. I'd also like to say that no matter how a baby comes in to this world, whether it be completely natural, a c-section, or any other number of ways, it is BEAUTIFUL. Also, this is a very detailed account of Oliver's birth, so if you don't want the gory details then don't read this post. 

It was Monday morning, 5 days past our little guy's due date. I had been having contractions all night, but to me they were no different than the annoying Braxton Hicks I had been having for weeks. Our friend, Stacey, drove me to the hospital for a routine checkup. After about a half an hour of being hooked up to the contraction monitor (I have no idea if there's a real name for that thing), a midwife came in to check me. She said I was having contractions regularly and that I was 3 cm. She then told me to go home, get my things (and my husband), and come back to the hospital. I remember feeling so excited and nervous. I called Caleb during one of his classes and told him it was time.

After collecting the carseat, hospital bag, Caleb, and Stacey's husband, we headed to the hospital. Well, we tried. Brad & Stacey's car battery died while we were getting our things. It was pretty funny. I think Brad was more nervous than I was as he frantically searched for someone to jump his car.

We got back to the hospital some time shortly after noon. And then we waited. My contractions eased up a bit, and I didn't dilate any further. I was worried they would send me home, but to my relief they checked us in to a room and said I would be staying the night. Around 9 p.m. we went to sleep. I woke up at 11 p.m. feeling like I had peed the bed. Let me tell ya, the water breaking is so weird. And that's all I'll say about that.

The next few hours consisted of trying to ease the pain naturally. Showers, the birthing ball, bending over the bed, I tried it all. Throughout my whole pregnancy I knew I wanted to try a natural birth, BUT I was definitely not opposed to having an epidural. I mean, I had never given birth. I had never even broken a bone, so I had no idea how I would handle the pain. A few hours of contractions and I decided I wanted the epidural. This meant we would move to the birthing room. Once we got there the midwife checked me and said it was too late for me to get an epidural. Talk about disappointed!

Everything started to move pretty quickly, and before I knew it she was telling me I could push. I always thought that once they tell you to push you are only moments away from seeing your sweet baby. Boy was I wrong. 3 hours later and I was still pushing. Oliver just couldn't move through the birth canal very quickly, probably because of my small frame and how big he was. Things happened that I didn't even know were possible, like my body shaking uncontrollably so the midwife had to put warm blankets on me to make it stop. I kept my eyes closed basically the whole time. It was my way of dealing with the pain. The midwife started to worry and decided to call a doctor in. I wasn't aware of what was going on at the time. After being there to observe for what seemed like forever, the doctor came over to me. All he said was, "I'm going to help you." Then the REAL pain came. They had to use a vacuum extractor to get Ollie out. But it wasn't that simple. Once his head was out his body was still stuck. It took a lot of yanking and me screaming so loud that at one point the midwife looked at me and told me to stop it. But then he was here. Once I heard that ear-piercing cry everything was okay.

His little life is such a miracle. God was with us the entire time, and has been with us ever since. We don't need to worry, God is protecting him.

-----------------------------------------

When Britney woke me up around 11:00 p.m. that night, I reacted in the same way that I always do when she wakes me up. I quickly fell back asleep.

That lasted about four seconds - just long enough for Britney to realize and wake me up again: "MY WATER BROKE!"

Even I couldn't stay unconscious for this.

I remember three distinct stages. By the time her contractions really got going, we were already at the hospital and, as previously mentioned, asleep. The first stage was a spontaneous, impulsive road trip: at first, things are exciting and everybody feels adventurous. After a while . . . people start getting uneasy and that guy in the backseat keeps shouting, "Are we there yet?!?"

No way, Jose.

Stage Two: We moved from our private room to the Kreißsaal, emphasis on the "cry". This was the calm before the storm, if by "calm" one means "an excruciatingly unbearable and overwhelming tension". The time to push came and simply never left. For about three hours, Britney pushed as Oliver tried to make his way into the world and I . . .

Dude.

I kept my eyes open and watched my wife become my hero.

Stage Three: When I first saw Oliver, I was worried. After hours in the birth canal, he didn't look very good. I remember watching the doctors pull and twist and all I was thinking was, "What . . ."

It was surreal to see a person, my son, come out of a person, my wife, and slip gently onto the platform.

It was life-changing to hold Britney's hand, gaze into her eyes, and smile as he took his first breaths and screamed the most beautiful note I've ever heard.

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