Owen’s story–the final installment

When I was working (before the baby) it was always amazing how fast the week would fly by. There was the agony of Monday after the always too short weekend which would quickly turn into the elation that it was already Wednesday and the week was halfway over with and before I knew it, it was 4:55pm on Friday afternoon. Since the arrival of Owen though, my weeks go by at what seems like the speed of light (maybe not so much when someone wants to just nurse and nurse and nurse at 3:45am…but still). My days seem like they’re over almost right after they start (we’re still working on being able to make it out of the house before 1 or 2pm on any given day…there are still some bugs being worked out). Though this is definitely the biggest thing I have ever taken on and there are days when I wonder what in the world I was thinking when this sounded like a good idea, I really do feel so completely amazed and awed that this little person is mine (and my husband’s too of course, although I know the Boy loves me more. After all, I’ve got the food supply). I just wish that I had a third arm as it would make alot of things so much easier.
So when we last left our heroes, I had finally given in (and with much guilt) gone to the dark side for an epidural. I have to tell you–if the Anesthesiologist wasn’t old enough to be my dad and my husband hadn’t have been sitting right next to me, I COULD HAVE KISSED THAT MAN. He knew what he was doing. I had heard so many horror stories about epidurals gone wrong (and that was part of the reason that I had originally planned to be super woman and go without one) that I fully expected something really bad to happen (labor completely stopping and/or reversing, leaking spinal fluid and on and on). I think that the contraction that I had to sit completely still through during the actual threading of the epidural line into my back hurt more than the epidural going in. It took all of about a minute for it to take effect and then it was wonderful. I could still feel and actually move my legs, they were just really warm and fuzzy (and kind of heavy) feeling–like being in a bathtub with water that was just the right temperature. Luckily, the epidural did not slow down labor, I just kept right on dilating to 10. After the epidural, I was all for the dilation checks–sure sure go right on ahead and turn me into your human puppet, ‘CAUSE I CAN’T FEEL IT. If only all my dilation checks had been so pleasant.
During one of the last checks, when I was finally about a 9 to a 10, my water finally broke and about 15 minutes later I was ready to start pushing. I think that the pushing part of labor was actually my favorite part of labor. A huge storm had appeared rather suddenly over downtown (dime and penny sized hail along with winds that blew the roof off of the transportation museum into the newspaper building) and we had the perfect view of it through the windows that ran down one side of the L&D room. The only people in the room were my husband, the doctor, and the wonderful nurse who had been with me since 7am that morning. It was just a really relaxed environment and I felt so comfortable and so able to do the job ahead of me. When I started the pushing part, my nurse joked that she’d really like it if I could get Owen out before shift change at 7pm because she wanted to be able to see him before she had to leave. I joked back that I’d see what I could do, not really expecting anything since most first time mom’s have to push for at least an hour or more. I started pushing at 6:05pm, he was born at 6:50pm. The storm had just ended right before he came out. I know in retrospect that I sounded like a loon, but all I could say when he actually came out was “Oh my gosh, we have a baby, that’s OUR baby” over and over to my husband. Although I had most certainly been aware that there was a little (and especially on the days when he felt not so little) person in me, it was amazing when I actually got to see him for the first time. I know that people have been having babies for a long time now and I am certainly not the first person to give birth, but when they put him in my arms for the first time and my husband and I got to really look at our little person, it felt like we had done something amazing–somehow we managed to create another human being.
The after-birth process was not so pretty, all I’ll say is that there were some stitches involved (luckily no episiotomy) and that was about the time that the epidural started wearing off and that lidocaine doesn’t quite do the trick like the epidural does, but that was all the inconsequential stuff. I wouldn’t have believed it pre-birth, but you really do forget how bad it hurts. I’m not saying that I’m all ready to just go ahead and have another one right away (or even to do what got me pregnant in the first place) but two and a half weeks later and I can’t quite remember just how agonizing it was.
I feel really lucky as far as first time birth experiences go. Mine was exactly how I wanted it to be. Hopefully next time (in the FAR OFF FUTURE) will go so well.