Saturday, June 13, 2009

Happy First Birthday, Malachi!

Mah boy is one. I can't believe it. My sunshine, my reason for waking, my heart- has successfully lived the first year of his life with only minor bumps and major moments of joy.

And here I reminisce. WARNING: graphic content. Disclaimer: Malachi was 98% bigger than any other baby at 41 weeks. My experience is not normal.

Malachi was one week late, exactly. Friday morning I was to be induced, but other babies had decided to come naturally and so, I got bumped. Fast forward to Friday night, in the delivery ward and (if I hadn't been in that zone) I would have chuckled and muttered something about always getting my way.

Without the desire or expectation of a medal, I wanted Malachi to be born not under the influence, so I opted to deny an epidural. Really, women, if you want to have your babies naturally- know that it is totally possible. It's amazing how the body totally takes over, when preparing to deliver a baby. I went into this zone for each contraction; by far, the most concentration I have had at any other time in my life. It's easy to deal with the pain if you're able to remember to breathe.

Enter Rase. My hero. If it weren't for him, reminding me to breathe, I surely would have passed out. He also greatly helped me with the back pain of each contraction.

I'm telling you right now, had it not been for the hospital's amazing shower and hot water tank that is the size of my house, I would have been lost. I think I spent six hours with the water blasting right on my stomach.

Whilst waiting for the "grand opening", I practiced every delivery position my brain could pluck from the pages of What To Expect. You name it, I did it: sideways, squat, standing, on the medicine ball, on all fours- everything.

This one thing I was not told about labor. When a woman's cervix dilates, that woman will shake- uncontrolably. It's true. Think of the worst case of the chatters ever- without the cold- and that's your body doin' it's thang.

With each of my contractions came such agonizing back pain. Enter Rase. My hero. He applied counter-pressure to my back on command. Poor thing fell asleep between each contraction, though. Jealousy has never been my thing... psh.

Then came the time to push my little watermelon out of that lemon sized hole. Nothing worked.

Another warning: if you have a weak stomach, skip this next paragraph.

If you have a high sense of morality and cannot even fathom the thought of someone other than your husband seeing you naked, you'll get over it real quick while delivering. After having your hoo-ha hanging out there for everyone to gawk at for a few hours, you'll think back to that naive girl and laugh at her silliness. Seriously. I think I had 15 (?) different people come in and out of my room while I sat, butt naked, on the bed remembering to breathe. Also, the whole pooping thing while pushing? Yeah, shit happens. Hey, I'm just being truthful. I kept apologizing over and over- but after the doctor politely informed me (whilst cleaning up after me) that it showed I was using the right muscles I thought, "What the hey, I might as well get it all out now." And I didn't blush from then on out.

Twelve hours of labor and two hours of pushing every other minute, I was exhausted. Enter my other hero- Dr. randall a.k.a "Godsend". With a swoop, she came in, measured my cervix, pushed on Malachi's head ("kill me now" was the very thought I had when she did that) , appeared two inches from my face and said every so convincingly. "You are getting an epidural because I have to deliver Malachi with foreceps or perform an emergency c-section".

I dumbly nodded and agreed to the needle in my spine.

Ladies, gentlemen, mommies and daddies-to-be, if you are in my position and are ever offered STADOL, "just say no!". Seriously. They gave it to me via IV to hold me over until the anesteologist arrived. I went from being coherent and in pain to drunk and in pain.

I don't remember hearing my baby boy cry when he entered this world- although, I'm told he shouted for all the angels to hear. I barely remember the doctor putting him on my stomach and I barely remember mumbling something along the lines of, "Hi, baby bee!"

I digress. The epidural was heaven. Enter Rase. My hero. His sweet encouragement while I was hunched over and acknowledgement of "such a tiny needle" would have helped, had I not been too drugged to notice the drug going into my spine. From then, I just wanted a quick nap. Just a few hours to gain strength and try again later.

No such luck.

Malachi came out in a half a dozen pushes, with the help of two giant salad prongs angled just so inside my birth canal.

My son, my first born, my baby bee. He had arrived. He was a beautiful, healthy 9lb 2.5oz bundle of joy. Totally worth the next episodes of hemoraging, fainting spells, blood tranfusions (only one actually).

Today, I wouldn't trade anything in the world for the memories and adventure that I had in giving my son a life to live. He is my everything.

I love you, Malachi! Your Daddy-do and Mommy-do wish you a HAPPR FIRST BIRTHDAY!


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