OUR BIRTH STORY

Today, instead of writing a post I decided to finally finish our birth story, so here it is!  Now there's actually something on the "Birth" page!

---------------:::::---------------


Its was 2008, Jon and I had been married for a little over a year.  The past few months had held many conversations about babies.  His ideal time frame was five years, mine what more like, none.  I knew I wanted to be a mama, I wanted it so badly and felt it so deeply.  Jon's mind couldn't be changed and I really didn't want to be the one to change it.  I wanted him to want it!

Then, one day, over a Sunday dinner at Red Robin, he surprisingly informed me that he wanted to try to get pregnant. He wanted to be a daddy.  I  was ecstatic!

We didn't get pregnant the first month we tried.  I remember how devastatingly defeating that feeling was.  I knew these things can take time, but I didn't want to wait.   The next month I ballooned up, I gained about 15 lbs (in a month, mind you), my eyes started getting really blurry because my glasses were no longer strong enough and I had a headache almost every day.  I felt like I was falling apart and wonder what the heck was going on with me, I felt horrible.

Turns out, I was pregnant.

I took a test on January 4th, 2009, totally expecting it to be negative like all the others I had taken the  year prior (being married and, uhm, "active" had reeked havoc with my regularity).  I took it one morning, just before heading out the door to work. I intended to check it, throw it away, get my coat on then walk out the door.  But...

IT SAID PREGNANT!

I remember standing there, silent for a few moments and then I just started screaming.  Screams of joy of course! I jumped up and down, still screaming, and then tears....lots and lots of happy tears.  Immediately, I called my boss to tell her I would be a little late today, put the test in a little bag, hopped in the car and drove to Jon's work.

Now, I dont' visit Jon at work often, its not looked greatly upon in his line of work, but everyone there knows who I am.  I walked in that morning and asked that someone page him, and told them that he had "forgotten something" at home.  Jon shows up, confused, and I asked him to step outside for a moment.  I told him I loved him and then pulled the little bag out of my pocket to give to him.  Jon was speechless and still, then tears came.  He said "Really!", I nodded, he hugged me and held me for a while while we both wept even more happy tears, and then off to work we both went off to work.

_______________________________________________

I knew that I didn't want to go to a regular OB, I wanted a midwife.  But we were new in our town and I wasn't that familiar with the private practicing midwives in our area yet.  We chose to go with the nurse/midwives that ran the woman's health department at our local hospital.  They came highly recommended and we felt it our best bet at the time. 

Three woman ran this practice, I liked two of them. 

The very first day we went to for an appointment, they slipped us in with a ultra sound were we got to see our sweet little miracle for the very first time.

There were more tears then, we felt so completely and utterly blessed.  It was such an overwhelming feeling to know there was another life inside of me, even if I couldn't feel him there yet. Our baby would be joining us somewhere around the middle of September (by the end we had three different due dates)

The first trimester was rough. I was sick all the time and lived on grapes, crackers and cheese.  I am rather short, so my belly had no where to go but out.  I was showing by about 12 weeks.

In March, around 14 weeks, I was sitting in the car outside the co op.  Jon had run inside to get some things for lunch.  Bells from the church on the hill began to ring, loudly, and that little person in my belly was startled.  It jumped.  That was the first time I felt my little miracle move.

The end of April brought THE ultrasound.  As I lay on the ice cold table as the freezing goo gets squeezed onto my belly.  Jon swore it was a boy, I didn't know.

Jon was right.

The very first thing that the doctor said once that little baby was up on screen was

 "Oh, its definitely a boy." 

 The remain months went well,  it was one hot summer in the PNW and I was pretty miserable. Okay, very. 

14 weeks

17 weeks

24 weeks

26 weeks

30 weeks

37 weeks

40 weeks

They estimated our baby's to weight 6-8 lbs when he was born, they also said I wasn't due until the end of September.  I knew they were wrong.  I knew he was bigger, I knew he was old.  They thought I was crazy and that I had no idea what I was talking about. sigh.

____________________________________________________________

On September 14, at exactly midnight, I woke up with terrible cramps.  I couldn't sleep.  I got up, took a shower and  hung out in the bathroom for hours in an effort not to disturb my sleeping husband.  By the time he woke up at 5, things had progressed and my mucus plug was gone. 

I told Jon to go to work, at this point I was still in denial that it was even happening.  I promised Jon I would call the midwives and ask them what they wanted me to do.

At the hospital, the lovely nurse informed me that nothing was happening and why don't we walk around for an hour and see if it kick starts again.  During that hour, the fire alarm in the hospital went off and we were quarantined to a small room.  No walking. No help. Sigh.

I knew I wasn't crazy, I knew I had been having contractions, but by now I felt pretty stupid because no one really believed me.

The nurse did one more check before sending us home, said I was only at a two and nothing was happening and that it just might not be today. That was until I felt a rush of wetness.  The nurse was just taking off her gloves when I said "Ah, what was that?  I think my water just broke...".

She laughed, did a fluid test and sure enough it was amniotic fluid. 

Now we were there to stay.

My contractions started again around noon and progressed pretty quickly over the next few hours.  Parents were called, the troops were on there way.  (Jon's family lives about 4 hours away and mine in more like 8 hours, so they were all alerted early in the morning) Everyone started showing up around 6...and by that time I just wanted to be alone.

I absolutely LOVED the nurses I had when I checked in, but day turned to night and the night shift nurses came it.  I opposite of loved them.  They were rough and mean and made me crazy.  The one in charge of monitoring the baby was toughing me all the time.  She kept trying to keep the fetal monitor on my ever moving belly, after I told her repeatedly I didn't even want it on.  She was stressing me out and I blame part of my prolonged labor on the frustration of dealing with those nurses.  It was not at all what I wanted.

I hit transition around 10 p.m. that night...and was already exhausted.  Labor will do that to you.  I began to push around 12:30, even though I was repeatedly being told that I couldn't.  "I wasn't ready" they said, I begged to differ as my body was pushing, weather I wanted it to or not.  Anyone who has ever had a baby naturally would understand that when its time to push, you push.  So I stopped listening to my nurses and midwives and pushed. I believed in what my body was doing, after all, it was designed to do it.

After about 2 hours of pushing, it was evident that the baby was stuck.  He was big, I was little...you do the math.  Evidently, they were wrong about my 6-8 lb medium sized baby.  Go figure. 

My midwife began threatening c-section, which was the last thing I wanted. THE. LAST. THING.

I knew we could do it, I knew it.  I understood they were scared, I could tell by the look on my mom's face, I understood their concern but felt that no one was giving us a fair chance. 

I remember praying in that moment, crying out to God, asking him to please, let this little baby come out.  Please, Lord.  Then I pushed, he moved and one more push and he was out!  I reached down and pulled out my baby boy.  He was here, safe and sound....and very healthy!

Jaden Ray

born September 15

9lbs 9oz

21 1/2 inches long

born at 4:20 a.m.

(yes, that's right folks, 4:20)

The first thing I notice about my little (big) baby boy was the size of his hands. Huge.  He was huge.

He has a birth mark on his forehead because of his tragic happenings in the birth canal.  And its beautiful to me.  Its part of his personality. 

I have never felt such a love as a mothers love for her child.  Every day that I spend with my son is a blessing, no matter if its hard or not.  I thank the Lord for this miracle, this little piece of love sent from heaven.  Even if its just a snippet of the love our savior has for us, it is truly amazing. 

I love you Jaden Ray!