One year later...

I was recently going through an old blog post to retrieve a recipe and as it turns out in the same post I spoke about my fear of having a baby. That was exactly one year ago today.

I guess I got over it. 

Being pregnant was if I have to be honest, mostly easy. The uncomfortable feeling kicked in the last 1.5 months. Sleeping became a chore as there was only one or two positions that worked due to my stomach and the little guy kicking away. He also liked to get the hiccups a lot which sometimes were powerful enough to keep me up.  I gained just around 40 pounds, which I didn't really mind. I ate like I normally did, but probably better as I ate tons of fresh fruit, made smoothies regularly by the end and almost completely gave up dairy.  I did find numerous cookie and muffin recipes to hold me over at the end that included oats and blueberries (BLUEBERRIES MAKE EVERYTHING DELICIOUS). I could do the pregnancy again. In that last month, I was in denial about the birth having to actually be the next step. Giving birth is like no other experience I had yet to encounter. It was intense and what I feared.

On August 21st at 1:00am we arrived at the hospital after I started to feel contractions that were probably 7-8 minutes apart. Being that we lived an hour from the hospital and it being our first rodeo we didn't know what to expect or how quickly I would progress, so off we went (with food in tow obviously). 

 It was a rough 39 hours from when my labor started, with no pain medication other than the morphine to help me sleep the second night so I could get some rest from the contractions. After getting the morphine shot I yelled like I was in labor (or so Andrew thought) and almost broke the nurses arm. Apparently I am a sissy. So, even after contemplating the epidural a few times between painful contractions, I couldn't bring myself to getting a needle in my back. The contractions came as they should, but unfortunately I was not dilating at the same rate, so the pain seemed to be outweighing everything. I didn't feel the need to take any medication as I thought if Wyatt was ready he would come (plus in the midst of it all you keep thinking that it must be time soon...it wasn't).  As it turns out Wyatt was as Andrew said "on a beach somewhere drinking Mai Tai's", as his heart rate remained steady the entire time. I never got to the 10cm. Instead at 9cm the nurses asked if I wanted to give it a try, which I gave a resounding yes and moaned by way through another contraction. They were excruciating and I contemplated whether it was possible to die from the pain (if I thought about it I guess I would have realized I would just end up passing out and probably have to get a c-section, so thank god I was more determined to live than die from pain). For the first 45 minutes of pushing I was great. It felt "nice" to finally be able to push out the pain and I was happy to be using those kegals. And then nothing was really happening other than a small poking of Wyatts head. The next almost 2 hours almost wiped me out completely, but somehow after what felt like a zillion pushes and a million instructions, at 12:46am on August 23rd, Wyatt arrived. I was exhausted and in a state of shock but so happy to finally not have to attempt to put my legs in those damn stir-ups. Andrew kept repeating how proud he was of me and that he will never let me go through that again and that we would be adopting in the future.

Where are we now? Obviously talking about baby 2 and 3. A few weeks post birth Andrew mentioned it and I said I had not forgotten the pain and was not ready for the jokes. Am I afraid for round 2 & 3? Of course, but anything has to be better than 39 hours. 

But, for right this second, I am happy watching my little guy grow. To watch him stick his whole hand in his mouth and eat his fingers like they are a delicacy. To have him smirk at me when he's had a good feeding but still wants to pretend he is eating. To play with him during bath time and have him smile when the water pours on his head. To listen to him "talk" with his friends Tiger, Vinchenzo the Italian Fish and Bunny.

SO WORTH IT