It started out on Wednesday morning. I went to my 37 week appointment at the clinic and asked the OB-GYN to see if I was dialated. I was just curious.
She checked and said, "Have you been in any pain? Like were you having contractions all night?"
"Just like menstruel cramps for the past few days. Why? Am I dialated?"
"Yeah, you're dialated," she said wide-eyed.
"Like how far?" I asked excitedly.
"You're five centimeters! His head is right there! I'm calling the hospital to let them know you're on your way."
I was thrilled. I waddled into the waiting room to see my husband playing on his i-phone.
"I'm in labor!" I told him ecstatically.
"Are you seroius?" He asked in disbelief.
"Yep, let's go get my bags and head to the hospital!"
The event I had been envisioning for nine months was finally beginning to unfold. Anthony always appears to be so calm. As we drove home, he stuck to his 'cool' demeaner. I was starting to get a little nervous, but my excitement outwieghed that anxiety. I was finally close to meeting my son.
To my disappointment, the midwife sent me home because I wouldn't dialate past five, even after walking around the hospital for two hours. I'm the kind of person, who can never stop moving. I always have to be doing something. So, we went to Mervyn's and bought towels and kitchen supplies for the new apartment, because we were scheduled to move the following week. Anthony and I went to Alberto's and picked up dinner, went home, and fell asleep around 1 a.m. I woke up at 4:30 with contractions, but didn't feel quite ready to go to the hospital. It was my birthday, so I took a shower, did my hair, and make-up, and waited for Anthony to get up and take me to breakfast. In the mean time, I cleaned out the car, installed the carseat, and packed a few extra things into my hospital bag.
We went to Denny's because that was the closest breakfast restaurant to the hospital. I ate a lot and then we were off to San Joaquin General. When we got there I was eight centimeters and feeling great. The midwife on duty got right to business. She broke my water and then the pain started. Come to find out, I'm experiencing back labor. Landon's head was sunnyside up, when it should be face-down, so basically his head and my spine are grinding eachother. Lovely. They gave me a shot in my back kind of like an epidural, but not. It's called an entrithecal (sp?) Unfortunately, it didn't do much for me. My Aunt Cindy came and I was so glad. She and Anthony kept eachother company and helped create a positive, comical atmosphere in what can be a stressful time.
Around 4 p.m., I started pushing. The midwife said that it's a lot harder to push the baby out when they are in this particular position, so often women in back labor have to have C-sections. I was determined not to have one, and thankfully she backed me up. The contractions were awful, but pushing helps ease the pain. You just get a rush of adrenaline. Thank goodness for that, because I would be pushing for awhile. The midwife, nurses, and Anthony were all encouraging me to, "Push, push, push!" Uncle Greg brought Aunt Cindy and Anthony pizza and he suddenly had lots of energy to hold my shoulders and yell at me to push. Haha. He was a great labor coach; not as great as he is a basketball coach, but I'll take it. Finally, at 9:59 p.m. I pushed Landon out. It burned and I was exhausted.
I had always imagined meeting my child for the first time to be a very emotional experience. You cry tears of joy while staring at the beautiful child placed in your arms. There's an instant connection and it's very spiritual. Not for me.
I waited to hear a cry. And waited. And waited. Finally, small wimpers. He wasn't breathing well. They ran him by me so I could take a peek, and whisked him off to NICU. Anthony was able to go with them. He came back and I asked if he held him.
"No, I don't like holding fragile people," was Anthony's response. I couldn't help but laugh.
I went to see Landon as soon as I physically could get myself down the long corridor. My heart sank. He looked so tiny and vulnerable with wires all over him. Even I was afraid to pick him up. I sat in a rocking chair, and a nurse placed him in my arms. He opened his eyes for a moment and made a small sound. I couldn't beleive this was my son. He looked nothing like I had expected, but was more beautiful than I imagined. Light hair, dark blue eyes, such tiny features.
The next few days were a blur of exhaustion and emotion. I slept nine hours in a four day period. They sent me home without him for two nights and that was awful. I hated leaving Landon. I called NICU in the middle of the night just to check on him, and went there as soon as I could in the morning. I was changing his diaper on Tuesday afternoon, and the doctor came in to release him. I was so excited when I heard the news that I spilled water all over the floor and at the same time Landon pooped all over the side of his little plastic crib. I guess we were both excited.
We left the hospital and went straight to Inglewood Oaks to pick up the keys to our new apartment. Yes, we moved the same day Landon was released from the hospital. Yes, it was overwhelming, but I think it was perfect timing. New baby, new apartment, new beginnings.
