You’d think after giving birth to four babies, the whole delivery thing wouldn’t be so horribly frightening, but it still is. To me, delivering baby after baby is like slamming a sledge hammer on my hand, dealing with the aftermath and then hoping it won't hurt when I do it again a few years later.
By now, I consider myself an experienced mother which is a some-what mixed blessing. In other words, I know too much about what can go wrong. I know how fast things can go from pleasant to chaotic. In regards to pregnancy, I know too much about my body (veracious veins), my age (I’m getting up there) and statistics to think I could be blessed with another perfect child, but this is the miracle that happened to me.
My doctor had me scheduled to be induced Monday morning at 5:00am.
“Don’t call before hand, just come in and will get you started,” she said at my last appointment.
So to me, it was a set deal; that is until I received a phone call Monday morning at 4:30am from the hospital. I was informed they were too crowded to take me. I would have to wait to hear from them and that could be anytime from here ‘till the end of the week.
I was exhausted and had been up most the night so at first I took advantage of my drowsy mood and moped around; feeling somewhat sorry for my huge, uncomfortable self. After weeks of contracting (Braxton-Hicks) and wondering, I was still in my bed contracting (still with Braxton-Hicks) and wondering when I should’ve been in the hospital huffing and puffing and pushing. Around 10:00am, I called the hospital. I tried not to sound too desperate, but I’m sure I came across a bit anxious.
But still, they were too swamped to take a healthy 39 ½ week pregnant woman who just wanted to get a baby out because she was psyched and mentally prepared.
And then the nurse said something that got my attention. She said, “Unless you go into labor on your own, don’t come in until we call you.”
And suddenly I didn’t feel so out of control. I received my last spark of nesting energy and I went for it. I was determined to go into labor on my own. I cleaned Reef’s room, top to bottom, moved his little bookcases back into place, did laundry, carried books from one bookshelf to the next, organized and cleaned up the back patio, bathed Reef and cleaned out my closet. And suddenly they hit. At 4:00pm in the afternoon, I had my first real contraction. The next one came pounding two minutes later. The next few minutes I was ever so aware of my body; certain I had put myself into labor. I was tickled pink, so to speak. By 4:30, the counselor and I were on the road, speeding through traffic to get to the hospital.
This is when I started to feel scared, that whole hammer your hand metaphor, I knew what was coming and I’d done this to myself! Maybe I should’ve waited, but for what? I wanted my baby. She was coming and I needed to get tough. So I did.
I went into hospital and prepared myself for the marathon I knew I needed to run. My trophy was waiting and I wanted to dress her in a pink outfit with a puffy bow!
At 7:30pm, I received an epidural and at 11:44pm, I pushed a little girl into this world. I was strong, determined, exhausted and completely over the moon. The counselor cut the cord and handed me our daughter. Now the real journey begins. This is why we do it, isn’t it Mom’s? This is why it’s all worth it.
For more pictures of Eden, click here.