Wednesday, August 10, 2011

A whole new world...

I have finally found a meaning and my purpose to this life... My son, Matthew Landon. Words can not describe the love I have for him, and as corny as it sounds, he completes me; He is what I have been missing my whole life. My eyes well up with tears (tears of happiness) and my heart skips a beat (or two, or three) at the sight of him. I have found the love of my life, one that is unconditional, one that I can call mine forever. I didn't expect to feel like this, well actually, I didn't really know what to expect. The day I found out I was getting induced I was beyond scared, I didn't feel prepared, but is anyone ever really prepared? Anxiousness and excitement followed. I didn't take any birthing classes, I just felt that when the moment came, I'd probably forget everything and nature would kick in anyway. Thursday, July 28, 2011 was like any other day, any other appointment. I had a non-stress test, followed by a biophysical profile, followed by a visit from the doctor... only much to my surprise, my doctor wasn't there so I had to see a midwife. Matthew hadn't been moving so much for the past three BPP's and my amniotic fluid dropped again. For the safety of the baby and of my own, they agreed it was time to induce. An EZ cath was inserted in to my cervix at the office... basically it's a foley catheter and they inflate the balloon with saline to thin/ripen my cervix. I was told I would be started on pitocin at 6 am. Ready or not... it was time. I drove myself to the hospital (yes walking with a catheter between your legs is quite uncomfortable, and to top it off, blood was dripping down my legs). Induction was started in the morning, the catheter didn't fall out until noon. My amniotic bag was broken around 4pm. I had been tolerating my contractions pretty well. I was trying to focus and breathing through them; Mom was a pretty good coach. Once the amniotic bag was broken, the intensity of my contractions doubled, and I thought they were quite strong already... They peaked on the strip so I didn't know how much stronger they could get. For roughly 2-3 hours my contractions were coming 1-2 minutes apart. My plan was to have an epidural... I didn't have anything to prove to anyone and besides, why put myself through the pain? The anesthesiologist finally came to give me some relief... or so I thought. He tried 6 times going higher and higher up my spine trying to get the epidural in, it wouldn't budge. Apparently I now have spinal stenosis or something or other. Well, I guess I'd have to endure a natural childbirth. And that was OK with me (It's not like I really had a choice lol). 7pm came around and I hadn't dilated past 4cm, the doctor decided it was time to take the alternate route, a c-section... What I wasn't prepared for was hearing that I had to be put under general anesthesia since the epidural didn't take. I've always had a fear of general anesthesia, partly because of my control issue, I wouldn't know what was going on, but worst of all, I feared I wouldn't wake up. My mother was allergic to a type of general anesthesia and it nearly killed her. Here I was, about to be a mother for the first time, and what if I didn't ever get to meet him? OK, so I know I can be a little dramatic but fear is fear, and I couldn't control that. I cried and cried until I passed out, literally. I remember the anesthesiologist saying I'm going to press on your throat and it's going to feel like you cant breath... OK, who wouldn't panic when someone is practically choking you? I have no recollection of what happened next, I didn't dream, I didn't think. I woke up in recovery. I vaguely recall the sounds of my son's cries. The nurse put my son to my breast. I had to ask my mom if I cried when I first saw him 'cause I couldn't remember. She said yes. lol. Matthew Landon never left my sight. He was never taken to a baby nursery. He graced our presence at 8:21pm on 7/29/11 weighing in at 5lbs 13oz and measuring 18in long. He sure was a precious little peanut, and he was all mine! I feel like I missed the best part, seeing my son come in to this world. It almost feels like a dream and at any moment I can wake up like I fabricated this entire story. Clearly that's not what I want, I love my son and I love everything about being a mother. I just feel I missed a very important part of his birth but truth of the matter is, the best part is right in my arms. <3
Because Matthew was never taken to a nursery, motherhood set in quite rapidly. Mom was there the first night in the hospital, but since my dad and his wife came in to town to visit my son and I, she gave them the opportunity to stay with me... which they didn't take, so I was on my own. To make matters worse Matthew had tummy troubles which meant I couldn't sleep a wink. The first half of the night I slowly managed to get in and out of bed to get him, the second half, I just let him sleep on my chest. He still cried and cried but at least I didn't have to endure the painful movements of climbing out of that hospital bed. A nurse was kind enough to watch him for a couple minutes so I could bathe... at 3 am. Yup... he had been so fussy I couldn't get away. I wouldn't doubt he kept the whole hall awake. I bet my "neighbors" were thinking... "what the hell are they doing to that poor child" lol. The second hardest thing I had to deal with was his circumcision. I debated and debated on whether or not to do it. I couldn't stand the thought of my newborn son being in pain. I cried and cried as I contemplated over my decision. The nurse came to get him. He was sound asleep when he arrived, but when the doctor came to check up on him, he screamed off the top of his lung when he heard the doctor's voice. For over half an hour my poor baby was inconsolable... and of course I cried, I began to regret my decision.
So we are home now and he is almost two weeks old. Time sure flies. he is beginning to fill out... putting on some weight. His family jewels have healed up, thank God for that! He is pretty much on a schedule and feeds every 2-3 hours. My biggest challenge is breast feeding/pumping. Who the heck has time to pump every time the baby eats? Seriously? Between feedings, changing diapers, burping him (this happens to be quite the task/challenge), trying to get sleep myself... then pumping... and to make matters worse, I hardly lactate (doctor said my heat stroke probably had a lot to do with it, not to mention the fact that the baby was early). Regardless, I am determined, I may not pump as frequently as I should but I still try. I don't get enough for a feeding, not even half an ounce :( but what little I can offer my son is good enough for me. I've spent almost two weeks in pajamas, except for 3 days that we went out... 2 for appointments and once to have dinner. Time is flying and before I know it, I will be back to work, and my heart will break.
I love every minute with my son. My life will never be the same, and I wouldn't have it any other way. God has truly blessed me, and I am forever grateful!