Ethan's Birth Story

Because I am feeling nostalgic as my oldest turns double digits, I found myself reminiscing about his birth.  Then I was going to post a status about it.  Then I realized it was long enough for a real post... This one is really for me, hoping that in some way writing down the birth story will somehow return my 5' tall 10 year old back to those tiny days, even if only in my brain...

Disclaimer: This is a birth story.  It will tell about events surrounding a birth of a human.  Just keep that in mind....

Since Ethan was our first child, I was still working through his pregnancy.  I was a first-line supervisor in the sealer department at GM Truck & Bus.  I could probably recite a fancy job description, but in reality my job was to stand and watch trucks move by really, really slowly while people applied sealer to all of the seams.  Although I loved my people, I did not love my job very much.  I decided that I would take a nice 2 weeks off before my first-born's arrival to be able to relax, NOT stand for 12 hours a day, and get things in order around my house.  Ethan was due February 12 and although I can't remember my exact last day on the job, I am pretty sure it fell in the late 20s of January.

On January 30, 2004, Jerry and I dined at Mr. Brown's Steakhouse.  You know, on the corner Linden and Lennon.  It has since changed ownership/names about 10 times. And I don't think that's an exaggeration.  I was so hungry. SO hungry.  I remember getting coconut shrimp as an appetizer for my full rack of ribs.  And a cherry coke.  Except they made their own cherry coke, so it was the kind with the grenadine....  Mmmmmm....  I drank up the cherry cokes like they were going out of style, ate about 3 coconut shrimp in this delicious candy-flavored dipping sauce. Then couldn't eat any more.  I cried.  In the restaurant.  I cried, 9 months pregnant, because I couldn't fit another piece of food in my mouth and had a full rack of ribs coming, and I felt like I was going to throw up.  I watched Jerry eat his food, then we went home with a full rack of ribs in a to-go.

We watched TV, and at about 11pm, I started having contractions.  It was really exciting!  They were stronger than braxton-hicks, but not really painful.  Just exciting!  Jerry got the stopwatch, paper, pen, and clipboard.  They were easy (did I mention they were easy?) contractions, about 8-10 minutes apart.  At some point, he went to bed to get rested for what was sure to be an exciting day!  I stayed up, and since they were so regular, decided to start addressing my birth announcement envelopes.

I finally was going to fall asleep around 5am.  I was tired.  Tired enough to sleep with fairly regular contractions.  I was drifting off to sleep in my recliner, when the song "Caribbean Queen" comes BLASTING from our bedroom.  Jerry had set his alarm to wake up so he could take care of me.  Only he was really tired.  And that song played on and on and on.  I yelled for him to SHUT. IT. OFF!!!!

Later that morning, about 6:30am, my contractions started coming 3 minutes, 1 minute, 3 minutes... piggy backing.  Still really easy contractions, but this must be it, right?!?!?  We called L&D at Genesys and talked to a nurse.  She was very kind, but let me know that if I was talking through my contractions... that was not hard labor.  Deflated, I decided to shower, and after the shower Jerry would go and get McDonald's for breakfast.  I get out of the shower and my contractions all but stop.  <exasperated sigh>  I guess this wasn't labor afterall.  Jerry was very kind and understanding, and jumped in the shower so he could get those McMuffins ASAP.

But before he could leave, as I was sitting on the couch in our family room, I feel a *pop* ... GUSH.  My eyeballs turned to saucers, and I said "My water broke!"  He chimes in "Are you sure?"  Well.... I'm pretty sure I didn't just wet myself unannounced (that would come in later pregnancies...), so yeah!  I go up to the half-bath (the closest bathroom) and there was NO toilet paper.  I couldn't reach over my 9 month pregnant body to reach the cupboard.  I called to Jerry "I need toilet paper!"  but all I can hear is him running (RUNNING) up and down the stairs.  He was gathering our hospital stuff.  I appreciated that... but what I would have really appreciated was some toilet paper.  "I need toilet paper, Jer...." I called again.  (thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump - 7 footfalls to get upstairs and get more stuff).  "I need TOILET PAPER, Jer...."  (7 more footfalls...)  How much did we PACK?!?!?  Just everything they said to in "What to Expect"...  And although I appreciated him packing up our hospital bag, what I really would have appreciated was some TOILET PAPER, JER!!!!  He finally popped in, reached in the cabinet that was literally within arm's reach of me (if I had been able to move in the slightest around my belly...), handed me toilet paper, and some dry clothes. 

Then it happened.  My first hard contraction.  Although memories of pain fade over time, what I do remember is that suddenly someone reached into my pregnant belly from either side, and decided to just remove it with their bare hands, for about 90 seconds.  WOW - so that was a contraction.  Blinding pain... I learned how to breathe through this... how do I breathe?  I can't remember how to breathe!!!  Annnnd... done.  It was gone.  Birds were chirping, I was chipper - I WAS GOING TO HAVE A BABY TODAY!

Jerry got a little frantic, trying to get me to focus and get in the car.  I was busy making phone calls between contractions.  "Mom, my water broke - we are heading to the hospital!"  <world stops as next hard contraction comes.... 90 seconds.... and.....>  "Dar!  We are headed to the hospital! I'm in labor!!! Call in to work! (she was working Saturdays then)"   <world stops as next contraction hits>  Jerry started getting really edgy.  "Come on, nett.  We have to GO... I'll make phone calls later!  I need to get you in the car!"  Yeah, yeah - we'll get there.  Why are you freaking out so bad?  I just wanted to <world stops... another contraction...> call my family.  It's in the <world stops... such pain....> birth plan. 

I vividly remember the 30 minute drive to Genesys.  I also remember that we probably made that drive in 15 minutes.  I remember Jerry having the gas pedal all the way down as we weaved in and out of traffic on I-75.  I remember being white-knuckled holding on to the "oh sh--" handle, crawling up the window with each contraction.  I remember calling Blue Cross to tell them I was going to have a baby (???? I am sure in some book I read, it said to be sure to notify your insurance when checking in to a hospital).  I remember handing the phone to Jerry because <world stops.... contraction>  I remember the lady thinking I was crazy for calling them...

We skidded to a stop in front of the Women's Center at Genesys.  Jerry tried to get me to take a wheelchair back there.  Geez, Jer, I got this!  My contractions are 5 minutes apart.  That is what my kind and loving husband has told me because he is in charge of timing them.  It was not that long of a walk back to labor and delivery, I'll be fine.  Except I had to stop twice because <world at a screeching halt - standing up contractions are horrible...> my husband and soon to be father of my first child had <world stopping again? But... it just stopped a second ago...> LIED TO ME.  My very strong contractions were less than 2 minutes apart.  He didn't want to "freak me out" so he stretched the truth, and I was so blinded by pain that I couldn't look at a clock to tell the difference.

I was immediately taken to a triage room instead of sitting down for check-in (but in our hospital tour, they said I would check in.....) where they started asking me questions for check-in.  I could hardly answer, so Jerry answered for me.  I remember having my eyes closed, breathing through contractions, shaking my head "no".  Nurse: "Any surgeries?" Jerry: "She had her thyroid removed."  Me: "*puff puff puff* no *puff puff* it was *puff puff* destroyed not *puff puff* removed...."  Did this man even know me?  Is that even my husband over there?  The doctor comes in and is going to check my dilation.  I offer her my wet clothes to look at (I SWEAR it said to keep that in a What to Expect book....) and she declines.  She checks me, her eyes get big, and she says "She's at 7 and a half... get a room... get her a ROOM...." 

Before we leave triage, someone asks "Do you want anything for the pain?"  No... no, I'm ok.  The birth plan allowed it.  I would start off with nothing, but if needed, it would be acceptable.  I remember saying no, I remember the nurse turning to walk out of the room, and I remember <world stops - so much pain> me screaming out "YES... YES I WANT DRUGS!!!"  I remember looking at Jerry in a panic because she left.  The lady that would get me drugs LEFT THE ROOM!  I said yes, did she hear me say yes?  I said yes... He told me that she heard, she had to go GET them.  Oh.... oh good.... I need drugs.....

The next couple hours are a bit hazy....  What I DO know is that yes, they administered the drugs, and yes, they worked.  Oh, there was still pain, I think?  Hmmmm...  I can't even believe those things are legal, and I can't even care at this point....

Dude, you have a dart in your neck!!!!

 I remember that at some point my parents and sister did arrive.  I actually think my sister made it to the hospital before us...  I remember that I wanted it silent for my contractions.  All talking in the room must STOP - I am in pain....  I am pretty sure that this is the labor where there is video of me trying to eat a popsicle while under the influence of stadol.  I remember further along when I would (apparently) swear, everyone would look at me, and I would say "Sorry.... I pushed..." (You are NOT supposed to push until it is time!!! -- I read that.)  My doctor came in and asked if I was ready to push yet.  I asked how long it would take.  He told me 15 minutes.  I said ok.  I'm not sure if I would have disagreed if he had said a longer time.  At this point, what could be more painful than hard labor?

I got the answer quickly.  Pushing.  Pushing is more painful than contractions.  Jerry was holding a leg and counting for me.  One... Two.. Three. FourFive6789  "Sir... count slower...."  One... Two.... Three.... four..five.six.789.  "Slow down, dad...."  I remember feeling like pushing longer a couple times (once I got into it) and the confused look on Jerry's face as he got to 10 and I didn't stop.  "eleven?  ... tw... twelve..???"  I remember the look on my sister's face as I was pushing.  A perfect mixture of awe, joy, and sheer HORROR.  Yes, she looked terrified as this tiny head would show up, then disappear.  I remember my mom crying.  They asked if I wanted a mirror to be able to watch.  WHAT?!?! NO!!!!!  No THANK you....  I guess I started holding back on my pushing, and my doctor wanted to do an episiotomy.  He said, "This is going to hurt a bit... I'm going to numb you..." and grabbed the BIGGEST needle I have ever seen in my life, and started to head where I would NEVER want someone with a needle to head.  Know what hurts worse than pushing? Getting stuck with a needle where you would never want to be stuck with a needle, while pushing, during hard labor.

I think he was going to wait until after my next contraction to do the episiotomy.  You know, let me have some time to numb.  What nobody expected was that I would numb enough that during that very contraction, I would push uninhibited and that my baby would shoot out.  Yes. Shoot out.  I bore down, pushed with all I had, and I watched my doctor do a one-two grab as my baby flew out.  He CAUGHT my baby.  I was surprised at this (who wouldn't be!?!?) and unknowingly let out an "oh sh--"  My first words to my newborn, beautiful baby.  Ah, the joys of motherhood... 

"It's a boy!!!!"  I cried, Jerry cried, my parents and my sister cried.  And Ethan cried.  Oh that sound.  I did it.  We did it.  He's here.  I want my baby!  I'm done!!!!

Then they flopped the slimy little tiny thing up on my chest (wait, what?  This isn't what they look like in the soaps....) and told me to push again.  What in the... What?  I have to deliver afterbirth?  Did I just stop reading the books??? 

What I expected to be handed after giving birth (Ethan - 6 months)

Things are really blurry after that.  I'm sure Jerry cut the cord (that was in the plan...).  They had to sew me up - I guess if you go from crowning to shooting an 8 pound 5 ounce baby out in one contraction, some tearing occurs... The doctor said "This isn't going to feel very good... I have to numb you."  I remember telling slimy, covered in my own body fluids, baby Ethan on me "That man is going to hurt mommy right now...."  I told the doctor "That was 20 minutes...." and he smiled and shrugged.

The next day was the Super Bowl.  My dad brought in a 30 Pack of White Castle to the hospital to celebrate.  I watched that game by myself as Jerry slept next to me.  The nurses would pop in from time to time, especially after big plays.  The Patriots vs. the Panthers.  Patriots won.

The next day we left the hospital.  That was it.  We were allowed to take this tiny baby out of the hospital and take him home.  Nobody even cared that we had never done this before...

And there you have it.  That is how my first born came into this world, 10 years ago today.  It did help to get it in writing.  I can see, feel, and smell that perfect round-faced, blue-eyed baby boy, even if only in my memories.  And it brings such joy to my heart.   I love you, Ethan, and I always will!  Happy birthday.  (Don't worry - I won't make him read this... ha!)