He’s here! Baby Jackson was born at 11pm on tax day, the perfect excuse for filing my taxes a week late (sorry Uncle Sam, I went into labor and here’s the proof!!).
Anyhoo…my childbirth experience was something I will never forget! I envisioned a whole lot of pain and suffering (which happened) and desperately clung to the idea that this suffering was only for a short period of time. I was in labor for 22 hours and half of that time was spent screaming all sorts of foul words at anyone who would listen!!!! For a person who prides herself on maintaining an even temper in the face of challenges, I sure did a lot of crying and dropped a lot of f-bombs! I basically felt like I had run a marathon on an empty stomach with someone stabbing me in the back the whole time.
It all started when I went for my 39 week prenatal appointment and my doctor politely broke the news that my blood pressure was borderline high and that I would be delivering my son sooner than expected. This was contrary to my plan as I was hoping to deliver two weeks AFTER my due date because I had all sorts of horrible ideas of delivering Jackson without medication on the side of the highway or popping him out at home. I considered my options after getting the instructions to head to labor and delivery (L&D). My first plan was to pretend like one of my pregnancy symptoms was hearing loss and drive home as if the doctor did not instruct me to go to L&D, but hearing loss is about the only thing that DOESN’T happen to you when you’re pregnant, so I doubt anyone would buy my story about not be able to hear. My next plan was to leave and go to Ruths Chris and ponder what in the hell labor was going to be like over some of their delicious bread pudding. I eventually came to my senses after about 30 minutes and walked up to L&D, who was quite confused at why it took me 30 minutes to travel one floor up from the OBGYN’s office.
When I finally got settled in, I was given the delivering Momma toolkit…an IV drip, a pan to puke in, and a cup of ice chips. After I was informed that my diet would consist of ice chips until Jackson was born, I demanded to order some pizza since I’m not the best person to be around when I’m starving and in pain. Thankfully, they agreed and I was able to order some food before I became too miserable to eat.
Then it became a waiting game. I felt almost like I had checked into a house of horrors because every hour or so, you could hear some poor woman letting out the most horrific scream. Nothing is worse than waiting YOUR turn when it’s something that promises to be difficult and long! Then around 4 am things got crazy! My contractions got worse and my husband tried his best to remind me of the breathing techniques we learned in childbirth class, but I seriously could not remember my own name (hoo hoo hee hee, my arse). I can now honestly say that my husband has seen me at my worst. I mean…I was running back and forth to the bathroom to puke and draping myself over the clothes hamper in the room, so I wouldn’t have to lift my legs. I will say it definitely made us closer and made for some funny memories.
Finally around 11 hours in, I started to demand an epidural and was far enough along to get one (4cms dilated). I must admit that the anesthesiologist arrived quickly and gave me the run down on the risks, but all I heard from his mouth is…I’m here to save you. He did tell me not to move and despite risking paralysis, I was moving all over the place. It’s not like I wanted to, but they were poking a needle in my back (which hurt, but wasn’t bad considering the alternative) while having contractions, which hurt even worse! Once that was done, I was on easy street until two hours before it was time to push when my epidural wore off on one side. I damn near lost my marbles because these contractions were far worse than the ones I’d been having!
I believe that’s where most of my violent outburst happened. One of my nurses tried to tell me that my epidural had not worn off and what I was experiencing was pressure. She then told me to wait 45 minutes and let her know if anything changed. I don’t think I have to tell you that heffa got cussed out! I did everything from threatening to adjust the pain meds myself to screaming like a damn lunatic (I mean real screaming) for a doctor. Thankfully, they fixed it because I WAS NOT pushing something the size of a watermelon out of something the size of a small apple…it just was not going to happen.
Once it was fixed, it was time to push and that was easy thanks to my epidural working again! I spent the rest of my time thinking about what baby Jax (he can thank Jen for his nickname) would look like and then the delivering doctor interrupted my thoughts mentioning he had hair. I was like…wait…how much hair?! Are we talking like patches of hair or like a full head? I wanted to ask if it looked more like my hair (nappy) or my husband’s (a fine texture), but decided against it because I did not want to get the depressing news that Jax was going to have an afro straight out the womb. After everyone in the room (roughly 20 people…most of them from the staff) laughed, I pushed for 20 more minutes and baby Jackson was here! I pushed for about 45 minutes total and I got to meet my little man for the first time!
I’m not going to lie…it was a lot of pain, but despite all that, Jackson came out perfect! A little puffy-faced, but perfect! I can see why people get awestruck by the whole experience of meeting their child for the first time. It really was the most rewarding experience of my life and getting to be little Jax’s mom is truly going to be my honor and privilege! Welp…that’s my birth story, ladies and gents. I hope yours is even better than mine!
Here are some pics of the little man!!!!