I got pregnant very easily and for the most part, had an easy pregnancy. I remember the day that we found out we were having a boy – it was January 5th, 2009. The ultrasound tech was hesitant to say for sure but it was pretty undeniable. And speaking of denial, I swore that I was having a girl. For a week or more, I kept expecting that extra little body part to disappear but we all know the end of the story and the “maleness” stayed put! The first time I felt Cal kick, I was 22 weeks. It was Valentines Day, a cold Saturday. I was sitting on the living room sofa, Indian style with my laptop on my legs and then I felt it, a little tap on my left side. I had all kinds of strange muscle twitches from the beginning but I knew this one was different. It was a tap, tap “hello, I’m here!” kind of movement. That’s when the conversations with Cal (although I didn’t know we would name him Calvin then) began. We started talking on a daily basis, well, I talked, he listened and kicked me, most likely to get me to shut up. As I got closer to the finish line, I felt pretty good. I still walked a couple of miles everyday and did yoga twice a week.
39 weeks
Jeff left early that Friday morning for several sales calls. I had a little notebook in my nightstand and I started writing the contraction times down. For some strange reason, I still couldn’t believe what was going on so I didn’t tell Jeff. Instead, I called one of my oldest, dearest friends, Brianne, in Florida. She’s had 2 kids and is a physician’s assistant, so I figured she would know what was up. Here’s what she said – “Melanie, you are in labor, you should probably go to the hospital”. Here’s what I thought – “Hmmmmmm….maybe I’ll wait a little while longer to call my parents and Jeff.” Really smart, Mel. I finally broke down and called Jeff. By the time he got home, my contractions were around 5 minutes apart and we hit the road, with my little contraction notebook in hand. This was 3:30 and the weekend traffic was already starting to get heavy. At that point, I thought I had waited too long and that I would end up like one of those women on TLC who has her baby on the side of the highway. We made it to St John’s, the baby factory of the Midwest, and I insisted on waddling in as opposed to letting Jeff push me in a wheelchair. I was able to get in a room quickly; I think the look of sheer panic on my face did the trick. I could not BELIEVE how much pain I was in at that point. Once I got my gown on, I hopped up on the bed on all fours and wouldn’t move. I looked ridiculous and obscene in my backless gown but that was the only thing that provided any relief. All modesty was out the door. The nurse checked me and I was at a 5 and the cause of my intense pain was the fact that Cal was “sunny side up” so the back labor was intense, to say the least. We moved into a delivery room and I headed straight for the bathroom. I wanted to sit down, not lie in a bed or walk around. Unfortunately, once I sat down, I literally could not get up. That was until the anesthesiologist arrived. I would have stood on my head at that point to get an epidural. Here’s where I quickly learned the difference between those who can and those who can’t do natural labor. I’m in the “can’t” category. In order to be a “can”, you have to have the ability to power through that weak point, to get in the correct headspace. Once I hit a 5, my strength dissolved. I need medication to make that pain go away and I needed it right now. Whewwwwwwwww…. I can still feel the relief of those drugs as I type this.
After that, I was a-okay. I talked, I laughed, I joked, they broke my water, I laughed some more. I couldn’t feel a thing!! Dr. B showed up and took a look at me around 7:30pm and said I was ready to push. I was at a 10! Let’s do this! Game on! So I pushed and I pushed….and I pushed….and I pushed….he was stuck. I pushed until 10:30 pm and he was in the same spot. I have to hand it to Dr. B; she was a great sport. Most doctors would have thrown in the towel long before that but she knew how hard I wanted to try. Alas, it was not meant to be. I started prepping for a c-section. The anesthesiologist came back and gave me the really heavy duty stuff. I remember everything being kind of foggy and then feeling sick but I couldn’t articulate how I felt. The shaking set in and it seems like I shook for hours! We were wheeled off into the OR and I was told by Dr. B and that I would feel a little pressure (didn’t feel a thing, by the way). I sort of recall falling asleep and then opening my eyes to a screaming, purple baby. I so wanted to soak that moment in but I could not keep my eyes open for anything! There he was, all 6lbs, 8oz, 19inches of Cal kicking and flailing around, born at 12:34am on Saturday, June 20th, one week exactly after my 30th birthday.
The next few hours were a complete blur – the recovery, the nursing, the crazy hormones that made me sweat all night long. I kept thinking, “Is this all real or not”? This kid is REALLY mine and I have to take care of him and shape him into a respectable human being? Thankfully, the drugs wore off, lala land disappeared and reality set it. The next afternoon, Cal had a little dip in his breathing so he was whisked off to the NICU to be monitored. Everything turned out just fine and we were home on Wednesday, June 24th.
First week home = tired mommy and daddy
I can’t imagine life without this boy. Calvin is our compass. He hugs my neck so tight and gives me a big puppy-dog kiss and I am in awe that God chose me to take care of him. Happy first birthday, little boy.
