He's Here

Well, it happened. I am a mom.

Haynes Edward

Hospital days

Peacefully home

Cutest sweetest love

It was May 15, and I was going to, what I thought, was going to be my last prenatal doctor appointment and ultrasound before the birth. I had been told throughout that I would have to be induced a week early, due to complications I had during the pregnancy. Really, what it all turned out to be were scare tactics and worse case scenarios that never happened to me, but that the doctors were uber-cautious, and this is what swooped in at the last minute to change my birth story.

I expected to check in the hospital on May 16 in the evening to begin the process of being induced. I had anxiety about this, and had gathered many stories from moms from all over about how this played out for them. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was going to have the epidural.

Well, after my ultrasound on that fateful day, I was told by a midwife who was probably 12 :( that there was a chance my baby was going to be over 11 pounds and have a head and shoulders so big that it could break bones. My bones and his bones.

I felt overwhelmed and scared and in disbelief.

You see, this OB practice had long ago shipped me off to something called the Women's Institute, where women who are labeled as "high risk" go to be doubly checked out. They were also supposed to have new, stronger, faster, better equipment with which to see/hear/check what was going on in my body and baby. These doctors had estimated that at the time of the induced birth, 39 weeks, that my baby would be 8 pounds and 5 ounces. These were the pros and this was what they thought.

But they ignored all of that on May 15. So I pretty much wasted a lot of time and money going to this "Women's Institute" since all of their recommendations went out the window. All of their extra ultrasounds and visits were for what? This was one of the many thoughts shooting through my brain on that morning. I wanted to say that to this midwife. I wanted to plead with her. But I didn't.

They scared us into agreeing to a C-Section and it would be very soon.

We hadn't even left the parking deck, shaking, still with a tightening feeling in our throats. What was happening? The phone rang. I had to speed-walk to the edge of the parking deck because cell service was bad, and the call dropped. Panic. Thankfully, they called right back. My c-section was scheduled for the next morning and to be completed by a doctor, of whom I had never heard of.

The only thing I could do was accept it. 

Family was alerted of the changed plans, and we set off to get my "last meal" before surgery check in at 7 am the next morning, and to do our final preparations. My favorite food while pregnant was Five Guys burgers and fries, so I figured I deserved it one last time. Gestational Diabetes be damned at this 11th hour.

I did NOT want to have surgery. Anxious sleep was had. Also, we were slowly coming to the realization that we were going to the hospital and the next time we were home we would have a BABY with us!  I have to be honest about this thought. I was more anxious about this truth than excited. 

So, we ate our burgers and stuffed as much crap in a suitcase and the next morning we got to the hospital about 45 minutes early. In the car, we prayed together and I tried to CTFD.

We went to the front desk of the biggest hospital in Charlotte. The front desk lady made my husband show his ID, and she made him a badge. Then she walked us up to the 8th floor: the baby floor. We were shuttled into a very small room so I could be prepped for the procedure. All metal jewelry off. I had seven ear piercings. The nice, thorough, calming nurse named Jessica, gave me a clean urine sample cup to collect my jewelry in. I put on the ugly hospital gown, and had all kinds of blood drawn, IVs in, and deep breaths taken. My husband played a Bob Marley Pandora station.

My mom and stepdad arrived and we were all in the tiny pre-surgery room. Nervous-excitement energy coming off everyone.

Then, finally, it was time.

The doctors came in and I met them for the first time. The anesthesiologist, and then the surgeon. Then they had me walk down the hall to the OR. Geoff wasn't allowed in until my spinal had been administered and I was "tied down" and all set up. This was the worst part. I was counting on being able to hang on to him for comfort while they stabbed me in the spine. Instead, I had a soft, comfortable nurse in front of me holding me while the doctor asked me questions about how I was feeling while he injected drugs and I couldn't really coherently answer in the way he wanted. 

It didn't take long. My legs started feeling like someone had turned on a warm water faucet and it was pouring down towards my feet. And then, feeling was gone. I had the sensation of wanting to move my toes but I couldn't. Geoff came in, and they started testing to see if I could feel any of their cuts and I couldn't.

So, it began. 

I remember the procedure. I remember the doctor and nurses talked about margaritas and tv shows and said that it was going well if they were talking about anything other than the surgery.

It was cold. 

He came after a small nurse or it could have been the midwife, began jumping up and pressing on my lower abdomen. I could feel the pressure. No pain.  Then he cried. Geoff and I looked at each other and cried.

They whisked him off to be cleaned up and then Geoff held him up to my head and we had our first family portrait. It took another hour or so for them to put me back together. I watched as a nurse weighed and measured my baby. One held him on her lap as she fed him a bottle. Then they wrapped him up and placed him on my chest as they wheeled me out of the OR and into a recovery room to regain the feeling in my legs and for the pain to flood in. All while he lay sleeping on my chest. He was here.

The next few days were a mess of pain and recovery and of learning. The anxiety turned into excitement and was also replaced with a renewed sense of mother-confidence I had never had before...

Haynes Edward Reckerd was born at 9:44 am on May 16, at 21 inches long and weighing 8 pounds and 10 ounces.

Yep. Should have listened to those experts and not let them scare me into a c-section when we felt we had no choice.  But regardless of how he came into this world, he did. And I have to just believe it was the way it was meant to be.