Oh, Hello Again.

ImageSo. A few months have gone by. Okay, eight months. That’s a lot of months. Oops. Pregnancy treated me okay until two weeks prior to our due date, and – BAM- the baby decided to show up! Labor was intense. The pain was essentially what I had anticipated, however, I did NOT anticipate the lack of breathing room between contractions. Everything – television, movies, the Doctor (for pete’s sake) parenting class- Everything said that I should be able to time my contractions, and that that was how you can tell if and when you are progressing. Well. Let me tell you; there was no space between contractions. I didn’t even realize that one contraction was letting up until all of the sudden it was a million times worse, so I just assume it was the next contraction. They rode one another for 24 hours until he finally decided to show up. There. Was. No. Space. Between. Them.

Essentially, about 12 hours into labor, I started feeling like I was having seizures- my whole entire body was locking up, my muscles wouldn’t relax and I was shaking uncontrollably. I caved and got the epidural; I hadn’t wanted to, and I sometimes wish I hadn’t, but at the time, it was realistically the best option. I was slowing down labor because I couldn’t relax, I was fighting the relentless contractions and stopped progressing (and after a speedy 3 cm in 2 hours, slowing down was awful!)

He did show up eventually, though, with the help of a vacuum and approximately two thousand doctors, nurses and interns in the room with us. That was fun. But seriously I was so thankful for all the healthcare professionals- I felt so well taken care of. They got my baby out and kept us both healthy and safe. It didn’t go how I planned and envisioned, but we were both safe and sound, and that’s what counts.

He was 6lb, 11.5oz and 21″ long. Born at 8:12am on August 20th. Thirteen days early. We named him Atlas Dwight (middle name after Brady’s dad)

He is my world, he is so beautiful and funny and stubborn and amusing and strong-willed. He is gorgeous even when he’s sticky and dirty and smelly and tired and cranky; he is a miracle and I love him. He is my heart outside my body, as I’ve heard it explained. I have thought on ocassion, “What if we had had a girl?” Then I look at my boy and think, “No. That couldn’t have happened- he had to be him, he is perfect, he is perfectly who we were meant to have.”

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