Micah’s Birth Story
I haven’t written Micah’s birth story anywhere in the last four years. Luckily, I am in all things baby(!) mode right now and it still feels fresh. I feel the need to write it down before my brain becomes clogged with midnight feedings, lanolin and trying to keep a preschooler/toddler/newborn alive and entertained.
Most people are awesome about documenting their firstborn and it goes downhill with each child. I have been horrible at it since the beginning. I like to think I’m “living in the moment”.. reality is I’m just bad at baby books. Anyways. Birth story.
The morning after my due date, I woke up with contractions around 6am, right before my husband was about to go to school about an hour away. I sent him on his way anyways, and lazed around in bed watching Perks of Being a Wallflower. Honestly, I don’t know what that movie is about but Emma Watson helped me through the early stages of labor.
Around lunch, I decided to venture out to the living room, still with pretty minor contractions. I turned the television on out there, and the news was on. (We lived with Dan’s parents at the time, and the news was always on. Otherwise I’m pretty sure it would have been a Chopped rerun.) This part of the day I will always remember so clearly. Images were being shown of the Boston Marathon bombing.
I feel like that’s the first moment that it hit me: I’m bringing a human into this world. Some of my relatives were there running and watching the race, so I immediately texted them and made sure they were okay. (Praise God, they were.) How could this be happening? How could my baby be brought into the world on such an awful day?
My contractions started getting a little closer together around this time, so I texted Dan and told him to get home, and filled him in about what I was watching. I had an appointment at four that afternoon, so I told him to make sure he got home before that. When he got home, we made sure our bags were packed (they had been for about 7 weeks because..first baby), ate something, and I bounced on a yoga ball for about two hours probably. When it was time for the appointment, we headed out the door and were on our way to have our baby.
The hospital was in town, but by the time we got there, the contractions were pretty bad. I remember having to use a crosswalk to get to the hospital and waddling very slowly through a contraction. In the middle of the street. Cars loved me, I’m sure.
When we got to the check in desk, I’m pretty sure the conversation went something like this.
“Hi, what’s your name? What time’s your appointment?”
“uhm..ow. Jordan. I think I’m in labor”
“Why did you come here?” (meaning to the OB office and not trying to get admitted)
“I have an appointment at 4.”
The ladies at the front desk looked very confused and then hurried me back to see the doctor. She checked me to see if I was actually in labor, and sent me over to the hospital. On a hospital bed on wheels. I felt like a VIP. I think that’s the moment I fell in love with giving birth. Okay, I’m not in love with actually giving birth, but I must admit I love the hospital stay. A lot. Even more with consecutive children. It’s like a cheap spa vacation.
I got into the hospital room, and by then, was ready for the epidural. I had this idea of wanting a natural birth, but I remember getting the first dose of IV drugs after my natural plan went out the window, and feeling great. So I begged for the anesthesiologist to come in and do his job. It. Was. Awful. It only worked on the right half of my body, so I felt like the pain w
as magnified to the left side. By the time they were going to redo the epidural, it was time for me to push.
I think I only pushed for about 20-30 minutes, and Micah was here at 11:43 p.m. He was huge, with a full head of hair (just like every person in my family) and as beautiful as could be.
Just look at how alert he was from the get-go. And 9 pounds, 14 ounces… only one day overdue. Micah with the most alert face, and sweet dad admiring him! I love this picture.
I can’t wait to experience this all over again. At 33 1/2 weeks, I feel like I am just ready for it all to be done! I can’t wait to have my body back, and to have a baby to snuggle. I’m trying to soak in all these moments at the end of my pregnancy, and hopefully get a little bit better at documenting everything leading up to it.
I’ll always cherish these stories, and am personally obsessed with reading other people’s birth stories as well… put a link to yours in the comments!