September 30th was marked by several huge events. First, Tyrell FINALLY transferred down here and arrived in the morning. It was great to finally have him with me again. Second, we officially moved into our very first apartment. Yayyy!!! He’s lived “on his own” before, but this was a first for me. Before this I was either living in a dorm or working as a live-in nanny. This is my first time staying somewhere where I have to pay rent and buy groceries and all of that. I guess I am officially an adult now.
The third momentous event was that I went into labor. The contractions actually started right after Tyrell arrived (great timing, right?) and we were going around town buying things for the house. I started having pretty painful, semi regular contractions) . But I was still functional, so we kept going. We got most of our things moved in. We even got most of the big things put away (thanks, mama!). Very fortunately, my mom also stayed long enough to braid my hair (something that has been needed for a while). Thank god we got all of this done when we did, because not too long after my mom left I started having SUPER DUPER STRONG contractions (little did I know that this was only a taste of what was to come). Around 11pm, we measured my contractions and I was about 5 minutes apart for more than an hour. After making a call to my doctor I was told to make my way to labor and delivery to check.
After struggling to remain upright (that crap HURT), we made it to the hospital where they quickly confirmed that I was 4 centimeters dilated and was going to be admitted. It was really happening! And I can’t say that I was ready. Let me tell you…contractions are a BITCH. No amount of reading books/magazines, watching videos, or talking to other moms could have prepared me for the sheer torture that is childbirth. I decided long ago to give birth as naturally as possible. I rethought that decision several times in the 8 hours that I was in labor. This pain was indescribably horrible. And it came in waves. Waves of pain that pulled me under and kept me under for 2 minutes at a time with only a few minutes in between to semi-recover. A lot of the times I would lose consciousness just to be brought out of it by a new surge of pain.
I tried to recall my many hours of preparation for birth by practicing breathing techniques, but that was easier said then done. “Focus, Tiffany”. “I’M TRYING!” It’s really hard to focus on anything but the pain when you are in the midst of it. Several times I felt like I was successful, but then, just when I felt like the pain was about to be over, it would intensify and I would lose my focus and be sucked into The Abyss. Several times I remember calling out to my mom: “Help me”. I felt like giving up and like I wasn’t going to make it. I couldn’t even move because if I made the mistake of moving during a contraction, the pain was intensified. My mom and Tyrell (when he finally woke up; narrowly escaping some random object being thrown at him out of anger) did a lot to help me calm down and focus, but I definitely didn’t feel like the strong birther that I had hoped to be. I felt like a baby that just didn’t understand how I could be hurting so much and why no one was stopping it.
After several hours, I started feeling the strong urge to push. But apparently I was only 9.5 centimeters apart and still had a “tiny bit of cervix to lose”. I felt like screaming “JUST RIP IT OUT! (the tiny bit of cervix that was holding me back). Then, to make matters worse, my doctor got held up with another patient and so my pushing was put on hold even longer. But I couldn’t fight it. My body was pushing on its own.
Finally the time came when I was actually allowed to push. It was so hard. I was exhausted. But I wanted it to be over and to finally have Christian in my arms. So I pushed. I felt it when Christian’s head crowned. It burned. It hurt. Then the doctor had the gall to suggest that I wait until the next contraction to push one more time. !!!! HELL NO, DOC! I asked if I could push anyway (not that my body was giving me much choice) and when he said to go ahead, I gathered up as much strength as I could and I PUSHED. Next thing I know they are laying Christian on my abdomen. Despite his alien appearance (he was covered in white goo), I couldn’t help but to touch him. It was so surreal. I couldn’t believe that he had just come out of me. He was much bigger than I expected. And I remember feeling surprised that he was actually a baby (it was that surreal). I was truly in awe. I just stared at him until they took him away. Then I stared around the room seeking confirmation that this was real. “I just had a baby.”
When they brought him back to me all cleaned up, I was surprised to see how swollen he was, but he was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My little gummy bear. Our little ninja. He was really here. I had done it. Loving him was instant. I had loved him in the womb, but seeing him made that love even more…there. Christian was born at 8:04 am on October 1st, 2010. He weighed 7 lbs 15.8 oz and was 20 inches long.The process that it took to get Christian here was very painful, but the result was so worth it (even having to endure more than 10 injections of anesthesia into my vagina in order to be sewn up from a pretty nasty tear). I LOVE MY SON!
Since that day a lot has happened. I’ve been really busy and really tired. But I wanted to get this down while I had the energy. This was the day that changed my life forever.
[…] is 5.5 years old now (Wow..time flies! Seems like it was just yesterday that I was sharing the story of his birth). I admit that up until recently, I really didn’t expect him to help out much around the […]