This little guy grows and changes so much every day, yet, 10 days later I still cannot hardly believe that he's here. Finally here. So, for potentially inquiring minds out there as well as my own memory, I thought I'd write his birth story before I forget the details.
It actually starts the week before he was born. I was miserable. I'm talking MISERABLE. The way that Miller was positioned kept me from sleeping for more than an hour or so at the time and I was at the end of my rope physically and emotionally. On the Thursday night, a whole week before his birth, I started having a pretty high fever that left me shaking and achy all over. On Friday it got a little better, mainly through sheer will power, but reemerged early Saturday morning. Also, when I tried to roll onto my right side, pain would shoot through my whole hip and leg, making me want to scream. We had no idea what was going on, so we did something very uncharacteristic of us-we went to the hospital. Long story short, what I thought would be a short visit followed by antibiotics turned into a day full of tests, including a CT scan, an overnight stay, and an IV of fluids for about 18 hours. For a while the doctors thought I had appendicitis and I faced the reality of a possible C-section and appendectomy. God worked wonders, though, and Sunday morning I felt a lot better, my white counts were up, and they sent me home with orders to rest and come back when I was in labor.
Then it was Thanksgiving week. My whole family showed up and everyone except me was convinced that Miller would be born at any point during the week. I was still very tired and in a negative frame of mind, so I went around telling everyone that I was sure that he would not come until the middle of December. I'm pretty sure they all rolled their eyes at me behind my back, but I was beyond getting my hopes up anymore. We had a very lovely Thanksgiving out at a beach house that my family had rented, complete with fried turkey, the best turnip greens EVER, and a two hour stroll on the beach. But still no Miller.
That walk on the beach left me more sore than the marathon and all the half-marathons I've ever run put together. I could hardly walk that night. At 3:30 am I woke up crying in misery and pacing around our room. B calmed me down and I slept fitfully until about 7. When we got up and started to get ready for the day, I began to notice some mild contractions, but I was determined not to make anything of them. They were all about 15 minutes apart and didn't stop me from doing anything, so told B, but we both thought that maybe he would be born the next day. Everyone came over to our house for breakfast, and although the contractions continued, they did not get stronger or closer together, so we continued with our plans for the day. My mom and I went to get pedicures at this fabulous place I've discovered and that relaxed me so much that the contractions nearly stopped. "Oh well, " I thought, and we continued to a cute little children's store in downtown Beaufort. After that, my dad and B had picked up lunch for us, so we headed back to the house. All of the sudden, during lunch, the contractions picked up and started becoming painful. I actually had to jump up from the table a couple of times. After lunch I told my mom that I needed everyone except for her and B to leave. Els went down for a nap and everyone else headed for Wal-Mart. Around 2:30, I had the worst contraction yet and I let out a little yell. Mom looked at B and said, "You have to go to the hospital, NOW." I was so determined not to make something out of nothing, that it was God's grace to us that she was there to insist that we leave. I don't know when I would have decided to go on my own.
We arrived at the hospital around 3 pm and Miller was born at 4:16 pm. I had made the mistake of asking for an epidural when we got there, but was already asking to push when the mean spirited anesthesiologist was trying to put it in. The nurses kept telling me that I couldn't push, the doctor wasn't there yet. When she finally arrived, she asked me if I wanted to wait for the epidural to kick in or if I wanted to push and go ahead and have the baby. That was an easy decision despite the epic pain, I wanted to have the baby of course! In the end, I got no relief from the epidural. Miller was born within minutes of it going into my back, so they simply took it out. He had pooped before delivery, so they had to rush him to the side and suck his airways out before I could hold him. I think I held my breath until I heard that first little cry. He was fine. He was covered in nastiness, but he was fine. We were a little shocked to see that he had a head full of almost black hair and looked very little like Els, but he is a beautiful boy. Upon examination of my baby pictures, he actually looks a lot like I did as a newborn. We're looking forward to seeing what he looks like as he grows.
So, whew! It's hard to believe that all of that happened over 10 days ago now. I'm not sure when it's going to sink in that I have two children. Thank the Lord for wonderful friends and family that are being so supportive right now to this emotional mama.
And thank the Lord for coffee.
