“The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.”
The days leading up to your birth are a blur to me. I don't remember exactly what youR Dad and I did each day but I do know that we spent most of it trying to make up for lost time. The precious time and moments that he missed while you were thriving and growing inside of me. We laid around, cuddled, talked about our dreams for you and what we hoped would be the childhood we would give to you. It was blissful and dreamy to say the least, the last moments as a family of two.
Eight days, before your birth I went in for my weekly appointment and had my membranes stripped. I won't give you details but just know it was done to speed things along and it was painful. Looking back, I laugh at my lack of patience. Most first time moms and many experienced moms are very impatient when it comes to the end of their pregnancies. Subjecting themselves to uncomfortable, painful, and even risky procedures all to get it over with. I know now that it's always better to let nature take its course but I can't change the past and this part of your story. So anyways, after that was done I immediately started feeling painful contractions and believed you were in fact on your way. That night, your Dad and I had a breastfeeding 101 class at the hospital and decided to go regardless of my contractions because if I did go into labor I would already be where I needed to be.
When we got to the class, I was by far the most pregnant person in there. I felt a sting of sadness for not being able to do things like this my entire pregnancy with your Dad, but that quickly went away when I reminded myself how fortunate I was that I was in fact, still pregnant and would have your Dad by my side the rest of the journey. The class was informative and I am thankful we went. At one point, the LC put on a video starring a baby that resembled Zoolander (if you don't know who Zoolander is, google him or whatever it's called when you look something up these days) your Dad and I could not contain our laughter. We were like two high school students sitting in the back of class howling at the video then howling again at our inability to act like adults and maybe even howling again at the expressions of the very, VERY serious expectant parents around us who seemed to have no sense of humor at all. By the time we left the class, my contractions had all but ceased and we went home and got into bed still giggling to ourselves like school girls.
A week later, I was 39 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I went in for my appointment and again had my membranes stripped. This time the fear of being induced with pitocin or a c-section was a factor that was now added into my decision. It frustrates me to no end that doctors scare their patients into decisions like that. But again, these are the details of your story and I will try to not get side-tracked. This time the pain afterwards was extreme. We got back in the car and headed home to eat dinner because I had a good feeling you were on your way to meet us. We got stuck in traffic on the Howard Franklin Bridge. It wasn't fun, but we made it home with plenty of time to eat, pack up last minute items in our bags and head to the hospital. I was admitted almost immediately. Your Dad made phone calls about your near arrival and we sat back and relaxed while we tried to take in the magnitude of the night. We were becoming parents. At some point, the doctor on call from the OB group came in and took a brief look at my vitals and how things were progressing then dropped a mini bomb on our excitement. She said my labor was starting to slow and I either needed to go home or needed to let them administer a small dosage of pitocin to speed things up. No wonder a large majority of women are so impatient, they have impatient doctors who give them ultimatums and make them feel nervous. How frustrating this part of the story is to me! I was already in a hospital gown, IVs and fetal monitors laced my body, and we were a good 30 minutes away from home. I made the decision to have pitocin and thus began my cascade of medical interventions leading up to your birth.
Once the pitocin reached my veins the pain became intense, unnatural, something only a robot could endure. Each contraction harder than the next with a shorter rest period after each one. Out of my mind with frustration and spine shocking pain, I asked for an epidural. I will not lie to you, that epidural felt wonderful. I was numb. It seemed liked the best decision I had ever made until time flew forward and I had been pushing for almost 4 hours with no luck of getting you out. You see, I couldn't feel what the heck I was doing. There is a reason God made women with the ability to feel Pain and contractions. It helps bring your baby into your arms, not the other way around. During the hours and hours of pushing, the doctor and nurses made comments such as "stop pushing with your face" or "you aren't pushing the right way!" I felt intimidated, humiliated and like I was failing miserably as a woman. Finally, the doctor said she would give me 30 minutes and if I didn't have that baby out of me we were going to talk "options". Panic struck me and I pushed and pushed with as much energy as my exhausted body could muster but was at a loss. I spiked a 104 degree temperature (probably from the epidural and stress combined) and suddenly the room was filled with 30 people. The doctor said she needed to use a vacuum on you and took out her knife. After two failed attempts, she pulled you out and whisked you away. I was hysterical to say the least. Your Dad looked like he was going to vomit. And those were our first moments of parenthood. It was the most terrified I had ever been in my life. It was a heart wrenching, soul shaking, and earth shattering experience. Nothing mattered beyond you.
After what seemed like an eternity, you let out a sad little whimper and they brought you over to me so I could kiss you goodbye before they brought you to NICU. I guess it was then that I realized my heart would never be the same. And it never has been.
Kai, I want you to know that even though your first moments and days on this Earth were the most difficult of my life, there has never been a second when it wasn't absolutely worth it. I would do it all over again, just to be your mother. You have opened my eyes to the most beautiful experiences and my soul is forever altered. You made me a mother. Of all the things I have done, being your Mom has been my favorite. I promise to cherish each day with you and never take the blessing of your existence for granted. I love you with every beat of my heart.
Love Forever and Always,
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