Well, I did it. I popped out a kid. I know, I can hardly believe it myself. And here I am, five days later, and I still can't believe that the little girl who sleeps all day and keeps mommy and daddy up all night came out of me.
Quite a few people have asked me the whole labor story, so here's how it all happened, for those of you who are curious.
Monday night around midnight (which happened to be my birthday), I was sitting on my bed playing Fable (this xbox game that brandon got me hooked on). If any of you have played it, I was in the bandit camp and getting ready to fight twinblade and meet my sister. Anyway, I was way into the game...so much so that not even a full bladder could stop me. So here I am, trying to get through this quest as fast as I can so I can go pee, when I feel some....moisture down there. And I'm like, "what the hell, did i just pee my pants??"
So I hit start after firing some lightning at Twinblade and head to the bathroom to empty my bladder. In the time it took me to walk back to my room, the above stated moisture was dripping down my legs. And I said, "Holy crap my water broke" to no one in particular.
I called Brandon (he was working at Fairchild) and told him the news...and to get his butt home.
We made it to the hospital at around 1AM, where we sat for the next four hours "fighting" (I put it in quotes cause really, we fight all the time. but not real fights. just play fights.) about what to name our bundle of joy. We came up with two names, Piper Grace and Kaylen Grace, and planned on choosing which one once we saw her.
I was having contractions at this point, but didn't really feel much more than the never-ending sensation of peeing my pants until around 8AM. The nurse came in and gave me some pitosun (sp?) to get things running a little quicker. My contractions weren't regular or intense enough to stimulate the dialation, so I just needed a little kick-start.
By 10AM I was wincing at least once every ten minutes, and so tired of "peeing my pants" i was going to scream. Our nurse, Gayle ( who was MARVELOUS) came in and told Brandon and I to try and get some rest, so we did.
And then it started to hurt. REALLY BAD. So I got an epidural at 11. Which was in itself not something I would want to do unless absolutely necessary. It was the weirdest, most uncomfortable thing...even more so than childbirth. But hey, if it's gonna save me from excruciating pain, bring it on baby. Bring. it. on.
So noon rolls around and here I am, epidural working perfectly (I didn't even feel like I was peeing my pants anymore) catheter in place, and baby wanting to come out. My mom calls to tell me they're in town and going to Sonic to get some lunch, and ask how far along I am and do I know what Brandon would want to eat? I tell her he wants a double cheeseburger with just ketchup, and that when they checked me at 11:30 I was dialated six centimeters.
Gayle came back in about fifteen minutes later to check our progress, and I told her I was feeling A LOT of pressure down there. "Pressure is good," she says, "real good." So she checks me again and lo and behold, "You're fully dialated! We can start pushing now."
And then it hits me: I actually have to push this baby out. Here I am, lying in a puddle of amniotic fluid with legs so numb i can't move them on my own, haven't gotten more than two hours of sleep, haven't eaten anything since 5PM the day before, and I have to somehow find the energy to push out my daughter.
I called mom and they cancelled their order and booked it to the hospital...got there just in time to wake Brandon up and take their posts, mom on my left leg and Alanna in front of the monitor telling me when contractions were coming (like i couldnt' tell myself).
Gayle's pushing coaching consisted of this:
When you feel the urge to push, grab the back of both legs, curl your body into a C, take one big breath, and push like you haven't pooped in three days. Quick short breath and push like you haven't pooped in three weeks. Quick short breath and push like you haven't pooped in three months. Three pushes per contraction.
And there I was, feet in the air, legs at a 90 degree angle, mom holding my left calf commenting on how soft my legs are, Brandon holding my right calf looking like he just woke up (probably because he had....), and I had this undeniable urge to push, but i couldn't. I was so scared. And honestly, I don't know why. Maybe I didn't think I could do it. Maybe I was scared I was going to feel it. Who knows. But I sort of ignored the first two contractions I was in position, and psyched myself up to push on the third one.
I honestly don't know how I did it. I pushed so hard I thought the veins in my temples were going to burst. So hard I couldn't keep my eyes open cause they'd feel like they were going to pop out. So hard I swore I really was going to poop out poop from three years ago. And before I knew it, the nurse had ran for my doctor and he was here telling me to give it one more push -her head is out- and then not to push -she was turning to the right position- and then to push -out comes her shoulder- and then not to push and then GUSH -out comes baby- and then all of a sudden there's this purple girl covered in white stuff but absolutely beautiful nonetheless lying on my chest and I'm crying and so tired and in shock that it's over.
They whisked her away to clean her and test her and bathe her and who knows what else....and I'm lying there getting stitched up (I tore a little tiny bit) and I look over at Brandon and realize that from now on, we'll probably refer to eachother as mommy and daddy more often than not. I look over at my mom and can't believe she did this without an epidural, let alone for four hours. I only had to push for an hour and although I could feel her coming out, and feel myself rip, the pain was missing.
I finally got her back in my arms and I couldn't stop crying. She opened her little eyes and that was it: I was hooked. It's amazing how quickly you fall in love with your child. There's something so magical about that first moment you look into eachother's eyes...I promised her right then and there I would love her forever.
So that's how it happened....how my little Piper came into the world. We came home Thursday afternoon, and the first night was great...she slept most of the night and so did we. Last night she decided she wanted to stay awake and fussy until 7AM, so we did too. And tonight has been similar to last night, although not as horrible.
The poor kid gets gas so bad. She's farting ALL THE TIME. And she won't breastfeed, which kind of sucks cause I now have to milk myself every three-four hours. She's always got her little hands up by her face, and is strong enough to roll over on her side and turn her head from side to side (which is amazing considering she's what, five days old?) She LOVES to be held, which is awesome, since I love to hold her. So far we've decided she's got daddy's chin, my nose and ears, and daddy's eyes (shape wise). And her head's almost normal shaped. She grew eyelashes yesterday, that was exciting.
But yeah, I'm a mommy now, and I love it. It's the coolest thing to be able to calm your baby just by picking her up and holding her close to your heart or talking to her. It's humbling, really.