He’s here!  In the flesh, out of my womb, for real. 🙂

I like him a lot.

A whole lot.

I have a baby.

A beautiful dark-haired baby boy who looks just like his daddy.  He’s perfect.  I am so in love.  I just stare at him all the time.  Even during those frustrating, middle of the night feedings when he’s wide awake and I’m exhausted, he still makes me smile whenever I see his little face.

I’m a mama.  I feed a baby from my breast.  I’m the most important person in this baby’s life (Daddy a close 2nd.)  I’m the one who will nurture him and watch him grow up, doing all I can to help him be his best self.  I have a little person that is mine.  And he is oh so perfect.

How he got here though…whew!  What an experience.  It’s like life took the list of all the things I really didn’t want to happen with my labor and birth and made them all happen – the induction, the monitoring, the long progress-less labor, the epidural, and then the eventual, dreaded cesarean.  I suppose it’s a lesson on staying in my joy, peace, and gratitude despite the unfavorable circumstances.  No matter what happened, I had to trust that all was well and unfolding perfecting.

Carefree mama and papa at the non-stress test.

I went in for routine checks on Thursday, Dec. 18 at 41 weeks and 1 day pregnant.  After an ultrasound, we learned that my amniotic fluid was low, and after a non-stress test, we saw that his heart rate would drop whenever I had a contraction.  Not a huge drop, but enough to catch the nurse’s eye and cause concern.  We were only supposed to be monitored for 20 minutes, but that turned into an hour and a half.  The nurse called my doctor who called some specialist at MAHEC to look things over, and it was decided that I probably shouldn’t leave the hospital due to his heart rate drops.  I was admitted into labor and delivery, and the doc was on her way to start the induction process.  It was all happening!

I’ll admit that I freaked a little at first.  I didn’t want to be induced, but I knew I had to be for the safety of the baby.  Dustin and I were planning on going home after all the tests and lazy-ing it up on the couch with movies and snacks all day.  But instead, he had to run home and get our hospital bags – it was baby time!  While he was gone, I had some quiet time to myself, and I just prayed – prayed that all would be ok and that this is what was meant to happen.  I probably said the Lord’s Prayer a hundred times that day.

Our doctor got there a few hours later and did a check.  Despite my minor contractions, I was still barely a fingertip dilated.  She gave us our options – Cervidil, a medicine that would help soften the cervix, or insertion of a Foley bulb (a catheter with a balloon type end which is inserted into the cervix, inflated, and left in place to expand the cervix).  We opted for the bulb first since it’s non-pharmaceutical, but I wasn’t dilated enough for it to be inserted (though we painfully tried).  So Cervidil it was.

Contractions…whew!!

Contractions started around 10 Thursday night and didn’t stop until baby was born on Saturday.  They were only a few minutes apart and crazy intense, so not much rest came that night.  Friday morning came, and the Cervidil was removed.  It only helped me dilate to 2 cm, but my doc was happy that contractions were going and my body was doing what it was meant to do.  So we decided to let my body do its thing for the day and see what kind of progress we could get.  My mom got to the hospital first thing Friday morning, so we spent the day walking the halls and breathing through contractions.  Friday evening came, and I was still only 2cm, so we decided to try the bulb again.  We were painfully successful this time, so now I had 8-12 hours for the little balloon to stretch my cervix.  Once it came out, I’d be 4-5 cm dilated.

Friday night was another night of no rest and non-stop contractions.  At this point, I’d maybe gotten two hours of sleep since waking up Thursday morning.  Every 2 hours or so, they’d come in and check the bulb to see if it had come loose.  And each time, it was still firmly in place.  My confidence was diminishing with my strength.  I was having all the pain and doing all the things I should be, but there was no progress.  Fruitless labor.  It was discouraging.

By Saturday morning, I was depleted of energy.  The contractions were too intense and my body too tired.  I’d taken some Ambien Friday night, but it didn’t give much respite from the pain.  Tears of frustration and exhaustion were coming with each contraction, and I knew my body wouldn’t be able to do this much longer.  After 36 hours of unmedicated labor, I finally gave in and decided on an epidural.  I needed some relief and to be able to rest.  I tried not to feel like a failure as they stuck that crazy needle into my back, succumbing to the pain, giving up my dream of a natural birth, and knowing that now my baby wouldn’t be able to be born in the water, like I’d hoped.  I gave it a good try, I kept telling myself.  This is for the best, it’s what your body and baby need.

After getting the epidural, I could totally understand why some women demand them at the beginning of labor.  I felt nothing!  All that pain and tension my body had been enduring for the last two days was gone.  And I got to sleep!  Wonderful, glorious sleep!  All while my body continued to contract and bring my baby closer to being in my arms.

The foley bulb came out a few hours into the epidural.  Yay, progress!!  My spirits were lifted.  Things should move quickly here on out, the doc said.  So I settled in, pain free, family around me, thinking it could be just a few short hours before I’m pushing my baby out of me.  I was on and off Pitocin throughout the day – sometimes Cohen liked it, other times he didn’t.  He was still having those drops in heart rate, and the longer the labor went on, the more frequent they became.  By 8 o’clock Saturday night (14 hours into the epidural and 12 hours after the bulb came out), I was still only 6 cm dilated and had been for about the past five hours.  Our doctor came in and gave us our options.  We could try another hour or so of pitocin and see how Cohen responded, or we needed to seriously consider a cesarean.  My body wasn’t progressing, and he was getting more and more stressed.  The doctor left, and Dustin and I started tearfully considering what we knew we needed to do.  Our baby needed out, and we were ready to have him out.  After 48 hours of labor, we knew it was our only option if we wanted a healthy baby and a healthy mama.

Our doctor came back in a bit later, and, in tears, we told her we were ready.  She was so supportive, encouraging, and sympathetic.  She knew this wasn’t what we wanted, and she told us how proud of us she was for coming this far.  “You’re going to be great parents,” she told us at Cohen’s first doctor appointment.  “You stayed informed and strong and did what was best for your baby.”

Everything moved very quickly after we gave the go-ahead for the cesarean.  I was in tears, feeling like my body betrayed me, feeling like I failed, scared out of my mind about getting my stomach cut open.  My mom and Dustin were around me, in tears as well, telling me how proud of me they were, how strong I had been through this whole experience, and how sorry they were that this was what had to happen.  I tried to keep telling myself that I’d see my baby very soon, and that’s what helped me deal with the sadness.

Within half an hour, I was being rolled back to the OR, shaking uncontrollably from nerves and the epidural, trying to breathe and relax and trust that all was well.

The cesarean was a surreal, frightening, and beautiful experience, all rolled into one.  It was still very mama-baby focused, the family-centered cesarean I mentioned in an earlier post.  Once I was prepped and ready to go, they sent Dustin in.  “Cohen’s gonna think his papa’s a smurf,” he said regarding his blue scrubs attire.  We were able to play music, so Cohen was born to the sounds of Bon Iver (“Perth” to be exact), our hopes for something calm and beautiful within the chaos he would experience.  As he got close to coming out, they pulled down the drape, and I was told to look down and see my baby.  I did, just in time to see his little body be lifted from mine.  Then came the cry.  Oh the feels that come with the cry!!  It was a sense of love, relief, and ecstasy that I’ve never known before.  His cry means he’s here, he’s really here!  Even though I experienced pregnancy, I still couldn’t really wrap my brain around actually having a baby.  There’s always the worry that something will happen and I’ll lose him – so many fears.  But they faded away once I heard that cry.  He’s here.  And he’s ok.

After they cut the cord and did a preliminary check that all was well, they brought him right to me for skin-to-skin.  He was to go to my chest, but he kind of landed on my face (ha!).  I looked like a badass tribal warrior woman, blood smeared all over my face.

He cried and cried.  I cried and cried.  I was in awe of him, wanting to inspect every inch while simultaneously feeling terrible due to the drugs – the uncontrollable shakes were unbearable, and I was starting to get nauseous.  But still, my baby was here, and he was perfect.

The doctor came around and told me how they found him – face up with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, twice.  No wonder he wasn’t going anywhere.  He was essentially being strangled with each contraction.  So freaking scary.

I had to hand him off to Dustin for him to get cleaned up and checked out.  They had a camera set up above the warmer and a little TV to the side of me so that I could watch what was going on with him as they put me back together.  Papa got to cut the rest of the cord and be with him the whole time.  He was 7lbs, 12oz, and 20in of our own personal heaven when he was born.

They got him cleaned up and me put back together, and then into my arms he came as they wheeled me back to recovery.  He latched onto my breast immediately – what a beautiful and amazing thing.  And thus began our life together!

We’re settling in and happy as can be.  I’m still healing, physically and emotionally, from the cesarean.  I know it will be a long process, but every time I see his little face and hold him close to me, it gets a little easier.

Dustin got some amazing pictures of him being born, which I’m going to post below.  A couple of them are somewhat….graphic.  So if you don’t like blood and seeing someone’s belly cut open, stop scrolling here.  They’re graphic, but I think they’re beautiful and miraculous.  As much as I feared this surgery, I’m grateful something like it exists so that my baby could get here safely and healthy.

Yep, that’s a head coming out of my belly!

Sunny side up with an umbilical cord necklace.

And he’s out! Makes me sad that these people in blue were first to touch him instead of me or his papa.

He wants his mama.

His head was so deformed when he was born! But it’s perfectly, beautifully round now. 🙂

A full head of dark hair – my dream come true!!

Getting some comfort from papa.

I look terrible in this picture, but I love my momma’s face. She’s waited a long time to see her baby girl’s baby. <3

His first latch, as soon as we got into the recovery room. Couldn’t help myself. 🙂

Thanks to everyone for your love, support, and prayers during this entire pregnancy and especially during those few days of labor.  It is so so appreciated.  Now we can all bask in the cuteness that is Cohen Jasper Allen. 🙂