Mommy Says:
There's a thin line between what you want to remember about your child's birthday and what your child will want to know about his birthday. I think the line lies somewhere in the gory details. I promise I'll try and keep it clean for you Tyson.
It was a Thursday. November 5th, 2009. But you already know that.
My water broke at work. I was at the copier and I felt a pop...followed by a gush. Gross huh?-and there goes my promise to keep out the gory details. By the time I had called the doctor and Daddy, I had already soaked through my clothes. At 11 AM, I signed off of my computer and waddeled out to my car looking like I had peed my pants.
Here's a picture Daddy took after I made it home safely.
See it really does look like I peed my pants.
I changed at home, Daddy had a PB & J, and we left for the hospital around noon. I was having mild contractions on the drive there. I remember telling Daddy that if these contractions were the real deal then all other women were wimps. I also remember Daddy driving around for fifteen minutes in the hospital parking lot trying to find the best spot. Some things never change-even if you're in labor.
At the hospital, the first questions I was asked was, "Are you sure it's your water?" By this time I had soaked through another pair of pants. I was sure. If it wasn't my water, I had other, bigger concerns.
This is the part where they gave me granny panties and a pad the size of my pillow-but I won't tell you about it, because hello, gory details.
After the granny panties, I was admitted to labor and delivery. My contractions were still mild and I was dialted to "about a 3." I was convinced we wouldn't meet you until the next day and glad we had brought along our Netflix DVDs for entertainment.
Daddy proceeded to take lots of pictures. Of things that look gory.
Like this.
And I proceeded to have more and more contractions. I no longer thought other women were wimps. I asked (begged) for my epidural at about 2:00.
I was told it would take one hour for the anesthesiologist to get to the room to administer the epidural. I watched the clock like a crazy lady. One hour came. And went. One hour thirty minutes later, at 3:30, I was a much happier person. See?
Drugs (in this case only Tyson) are a good, good thing.
I should note, Daddy says I did not yell or swear at him once during this time period-a fact that I am very, very proud of.
They checked me again at 4:00. I was at a 9. Holy progress! The nurse announced we would meet you today.
Your heart rate dropped dramatically shortly after 4:00. Many nurses and doctors rushed into our room. I was given oxygen and turned from side to side to get your heart rate back to normal levels. Both Daddy and I were very scared, but later reassured that this happens quite frequently when labor progresses very quickly. They also told us it was a sign that you were getting ready to make your big debut.
Daddy and I were told to rest up for one hour as we needed to be ready to meet our little guy. They turned down the lights and suggested I get some sleep. Sleep, really? We were much too excited to sleep. So we took more pictures.
Maybe we should have slept.
Dr. Cappechi entered our room shortly after 5:30. He was followed by just one nurse who quickly explained how the delivery would go. Very quickly. Something about legs, breathing and pushing.
Daddy taught her and the Doctor about your initials and my fear of him yelling, "Touchdown!" at delivery. More time was spent on that story than on the instructions of how to evacuate you from my uterus.
I pushed three times (no gory details here) and at 6:02 you arrived with a full head of curly hair screaming. Yes, the doctor and Daddy did yell, "Touchdown!" And, yes, I was mortified.
But, then....then...they placed you on my chest. And I held you for the first time while Daddy and I cried together. My first words to you? "He's perfect."
And you are.
