Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Waylon’s Birth Story

It was the morning of September 11th when my water broke. Matthew was getting ready to walk the dogs while I checked my social media pages on my phone. I noticed everyone was reflecting over 9/11 and the events that transpired what seems like so many years ago. I began to talk to God about what my thoughts would be if I were to have our son on this day. Considering my husband has been fighting in the same war that is still taking place. I finally told God that if this was apart of His plan then I would respect His wishes. As I finished this prayer I realized something was not right and ran to the bathroom. I got there just in time for my water to break. Talk about luck!



I was quite upset because Matthew had just agreed to cook me biscuits and gravy and I knew this was no longer going to happen. Instead we picked up hot cakes and a large coke through the McDonalds drive thru and headed to my moms. (My biggest craving was one coke a day while pregnant). After scarfing my food down me and Matthew headed to the hospital to find out they had no rooms available. So I sat in the waiting room with a large towel underneath me for close to an hour. Just to give y’all a timeline, my water had broke at 8:30am and it was closer to 1pm when I finally was in a room.

My epidural was given early on because my doctor wanted me to rest as much as possible. After somewhat settling in I was then given Pitocin to get my labor going. Around this time I had three nurses I have never seen before bust through my door and begin to put oxygen on me and flip me to my side. I looked at the one putting my oxygen mask on and told her I thought she had the wrong room. This is when they informed me our sons heart had slowed down due to the Pitocin. Afterwards, my nurse continued to check to see how far along I was. This became rather awkward because she would tickle the top of my sons head just so she could see his heart rate go up on the monitor. Yes, this really happened.

At around 10:45pm I had finally dilated all the way and it was time to push. I had opted out of the birthing classes because Matthew’s work schedule so I had no clue what to do. At one point I was on the verge of vomiting and had to have a bucket placed on my chest. A few minutes later I was having Matthew feed me ice chips because of how dry my mouth was from breathing so hard. All the while my nurse kept insisting on getting the mirror for me to watch. Um no. Heck no. I know there may be a lot of you who watched yourself give birth and that is your choice. However, I did not want to see any part of myself. The nurse continued pressuring me until I finally snapped.

Our son was born a little after midnight on September 12th. I was 38 weeks pregnant at the time. After placing him on my stomach, they then took him directly to his incubator to check on him. I was thrown off guard because before I started pushing the nurses had briefed me on what to expect after delivery. Instead of wiping him down and then laying him on my chest they took him from me. Because there was so much commotion I could not get anyone to tell me why I could not see my son. Matthew had left my side and went to be with him and my mother stayed with me. I finally got the attention of a nurse and demanded to know what was wrong. I was informed they were taking him to the NICU to monitor his breathing.

A mixture of imbalanced hormones and panic began to kick in high gear. Why was my 8lb 4oz baby not breathing right?  Why could I not hold him! Where was the NICU? Why could I not go see him? When would he be back? I was having a nervous breakdown. During this time my mother was under the impression Matthew was headed back to my room so she went with my dad to the waiting room to tell my in-laws the news. Yet this was not the case. A nurse overheard me crying in my room and came in to check on me. She looked around and saw I was alone and asked where was my baby. I told her and then asked if she would please go find one of my family members.

Thankfully, Waylon only stayed in the NICU for an hour but I will tell you this was the longest hour of my life. I was physically and emotionally drained by the time they rolled him back into my delivery room. I had a mixture of happiness and sadness because of not being able to see him right away. Once we were settled into our new room the nurse noticed something was not right with me. She asked me if I had the chance to have skin to skin with our son and I told her no. She insisted on me trying it and a wave of relief settled over me. I have to say it really helped my anxiety.

I will tell you guys I had not planned on breast feeding our son. I was going to try to pump full time but after everything that happened I was determined to have that bond with our baby. So I told the nurse I would breast feed. (After a week I had to quit because I wasn’t producing anything and I had formed mastitis. This made my post partum depression worsen. I will save that post for another day).

During our stay we had a few visitors. We went and had professional photos taken while at the hospital. They were expensive but worth every penny. I was not able to take the pain meds my nurse had given me so I fully recovered on Tylenol. Talk about pain! Our last night in the hospital was very rough. At one point Waylon’s breathing had began to do what it was doing before. It was around 2am and I called the nurses in to check on him. Of course the little booger stopped doing it after they came in so I looked like a nut. They asked if they could take him down the hall to monitor him so I would feel better but I told them no. I was so worried about him being away from me again. Ten minutes after they left I had to call them back in and sobbed when they wheeled him out of my room. I knew it bothered the nurse to see me like that. Matthew crawled up in bed next to me to comfort me. A few hours later, I woke up to a nurse bringing Waylon back in to our room. Shortly after we brought our first born home.

 

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