This is a verrryyy loooonggg post. Not for the faint of... eye? You read with your eyes, not your heart, so I couldn't use the original saying, ya know? And, for some unknown reason, I decided to write it as a story. It was fun, but very time consuming. Enjoy! :)
Chapter 1:
I waddled around the room picking up after the students, thinking to myself, "It shouldn't be that hard to put all the orange papers in the same stack and throw away paper plates and pop cans. I'm not your mother..."
Oh well. The meeting was over. Check-ins were over. A huge wave of relief swept over me. I could now focus on what I had wanted to focus on for over a month: the birth of our son. The day before, the doctor told us that it would be wise to schedule an induction as a back-up. He felt I was just too small of a woman to go much over my due date. After calling the hospital, it was set that he would come on Saturday, April 27.
That was Wednesday. The rest of the week flew by at lightning speed. I called the hospital early Saturday morning.
"Labor and Delivery."
"Hi, my name is Tasha Chambers, and I'm scheduled for an induction this morning."
"Yes, Tasha. We will be ready for you at 6:30."
"Oh, um, okay. We'll be there." And I hung up.
Time to go.
In normal fashion, we arrived late to the hospital. My fault, as always. I was a mess of emotions. Excitement, nervousness, utter fear... Labor terrified me, but mostly because I didn't really know what to expect. You can only understand so much from what the doctors and nurses tell you.
I checked in and the nurse behind the desk pointed me to my room. Bags and pillows in hand, we walked to the room where we would become parents. My nurse, Jill, arrived shortly with my gown and asked me to change. It was time to start my IV and my Pitocin. I changed quickly and laid in the hospital bed. They inserted my IV, started the drip, and I answered a myriad of health questions. Baby boy was kicking and squirming the whole time. He knew he was going to come into the world that day and he was excited.
After being on the Pitocin for a few hours, my doctor, Dr. Jones, came by to see the progress. Not a whole lot... just over a centimeter dilated from what they could tell. He decided to break my water to step things up a bit. 10:30 am and I was a wet mess.
I thought I had been having minor contractions that whole week. They felt like menstrual cramps, but didn't hurt too bad. I was hoping that meant I had a high pain tolerance and wouldn't need an epidural. After Dr. Jones broke my water, it quickly became evident that I was mistaken. Very mistaken. I was not experiencing contractions in the slightest and I do not have a very high pain tolerance. It wasn't long before I was clutching the bed railing, white-knuckled.
By this time, my mom, sister and brothers were present. This baby boy would be my mother's first grandson and my siblings first nephew. They were all very excited. My mother especially. She was a bit of a worrisome woman, and that combined with the excitement and my pain sent her reeling. Honest, she did a pretty good job of keeping cool, but I noticed she was freaked. And that didn't help my situation.
Tom didn't watch me wither in pain long before he was by my side, urging me to get an epidural. "This will be such a more enjoyable experience, Tasha."
I gave in.
In the beginning, my nurse told me that I would probably have to wait an hour before the anesthesiologist would make it to me, so I should ask for an epidural well before the pain became unbearable. I called the nurse and asked for her to request an epidural. I was mentally prepared to wait an hour. It wasn't hardly 10 minutes before my door opened and in walked an anesthesiologist, ready to administer the medication. For reasons I'll never know, he just decided to waltz up to the Labor and Delivery floor at the same time I needed the epidural. It was my lucky day.
I sat at the edge of the bed, a pillow in my lap and my husband's hand in my own.
"A quick poke..." the anesthesiologist said and he pointed the needle at my back. He had just given me the spiel on how I could very well be paralyzed after he was finished. I wasn't feeling as confident about the medication anymore. That's why Tom was there.
I felt the poke, then a very intense burning sensation as the needle entered my spine. At the same moment, my body started another contraction. I fought every urge to jump away from the pain. Instinctively, my hand tightened around Tom's. I realized he wasn't ready as he let out a little yelp with the new added pressure.
"Hold veerrry stiillll...." The anesthesiologist dragged out the words as he reminded me. I'm sure he wasn't too keen on me coming away paralyzed either.
It didn't take long before the burning faded, the needle that would administer the medication was inserted, and the tubes were taped
very well to my back. With well wishes, he was gone and I was on my way to feeling much better.
Not only was the timing good, but he was good. He gave me the best epidural known to man, or woman. My feet started tingling right away, and before I knew it, I could barely move my legs. I was watching the monitor and though it measured some intense contractions, I didn't feel a thing. I was in pig heaven, eating my flavored ice chips and watching some strange cat whisperer show on Animal Planet.
Dr. Jones paid us another visit later that afternoon. Another check of my progress revealed that I was ready. Ten centimeters dilated and 100% effaced. He put on his blue robe and the nurse started taking apart my bed. It was time to birth this baby.
Chapter 2:
"Most first-time mom's take about an hour or two to push the baby out," Dr. Jones was saying. He was going over the birthing process, and though I was trying hard to pay attention, I found it difficult. I was shaking uncontrollably from the surge of adrenaline as my body prepared for the upcoming physical demands. That, and I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that it was really already time to push. It all came so quickly.
He sat at the base of my bed and called Tom over. "Hold her leg, since she can't." With Tom on my left and my darling nurse on my right, we all turned to the monitor, watching for the next contraction.
Dr. Jones had to tell me when it was time to push. I couldn't feel anything below the belt. I took a big breath, grabbed my legs, and barred down, pushing as hard as I could.
****
"...seven, eight, nine, ten." I let my breath out in a whoosh, and laid my head back for a moment. I had been pushing for just over a half hour and was tired.
"Want some ice chips??" Tom was eager to keep me comfortable and asked the same question after every round of pushes. I smiled and shook my head as he pushed the hair from my face. "You're doing great." He smiled.
I pushed a few more times and found myself looking at the clock. It was almost 4 in the afternoon. My mind wandered as I imagined what time my baby boy would be here. I secretly hoped for 4:02 or 4:12 because of my strange obsession with the numbers 2 and 12. Both those times came and went... but I wasn't disappointed. In the meantime, I had a brilliant idea.
4:27, I told myself,
My baby boy will be born at 4:27 on 4/27. That will be awesome. And with that, I had renewed energy.
I concentrated on 4:27 for the next few minutes as I tried with all my might to bring my child into the world. I saw Dr. Jones keep glancing at the monitor telling my baby's heart rate. Though he didn't seem panicked, I could sense something was off. Despite my best efforts, my body was tired and I needed help. During my last push, he pulled out the vacuum and aided me in the birth of my darling son.
After that moment, it was a complete whirlwind of events. Suddenly, a beautiful boy was lying on my chest and I kept hearing myself say, "I have a baby, I HAVE A BABY!" I giggled hysterically as the nurses quickly wiped him down and Tom cut the umbilical chord. He was here. After nine long months, he was finally here. He was taken just off to the side to continue being cleaned, while the doctors and nurses took care of me. It wasn't long before my son was back in my arms, skin to skin, for our first bonding moments. My mother-in-law described it best when she said mine was a face of "pure joy." I was absolutely elated. Exhausted, but euphoric.
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| Photo courtesy of Grandma Chambers |
Tom was soon by my side, admiring our son along with me. "We did it," I whispered up to him. He nodded and gave me a quick congratulations kiss.
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| Thanks again, Grandma Chambers! |
We had a beautiful, 7 lb. 6 oz. baby boy, measuring 19 inches long. He was perfect. All ten fingers, all ten toes. Bright, curious eyes and a studious furrowed brow. We were immediately in love with this bundle of joy.
But now he was here... and had no name. Preston, Declan, Carter? All three kept running through my thoughts. What if he wasn't any of them? I thought for sure the moment I saw him I would know, but I should have known better than that. I don't make decisions well when deciding where to eat dinner. How on earth was I supposed to give this boy a name?
Tom came up with a strategy. "We'll spend some time calling him one name. If we don't like it, we'll change it." So, he was named Preston for an hour, Carter for three... But we still weren't satisfied.
As we sat in the silent hospital room, just us three, Tom whispered, "What about Tyler? And we can call him Ty?" He was very concerned about nicknames. Carter wasn't a good name because the shortened version would be "Cart." And Preston would be "Pres." "Presto?" But Ty, Ty was a good nickname.
I pondered on that. Tyler, I thought. Ty. My Ty. Ty guy. I liked it. I smiled at Tom, he smiled back. I could tell he was in love with that name. He kept saying it over and over again. Though I was more partial to Carter, I saw how happy the name Tyler made him. And it was decided.
Tyler Thomas Chambers.
Chapter 3:
Tom, Tyler, and I had a lot of loving visitors over the next day and a half. It wasn't long before Tyler got to meet his Grandma and Papa Chambers, Grandma Holley, Grandpa Trevor, his aunts, uncles, and cousins. He was a very loved boy by his parents, and it quickly became evident that there was much more love to share for this precious babe.
We were overwhelmed by the love poured out to us, but especially to Tyler Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Even the nurses were so kind and loving towards him. He was a special boy. We couldn't get enough of him either. There were nearly constant whispers from Tom as he sat by my bed, "Wow. He is so awesome," over and over again.
Tom was the awesome one. He stayed in the hospital and never left my side. He slept on the very uncomfortable pull out chair in his jeans, jumped up to take Tyler when he fussed, and constantly helped me with whatever it was I needed. He was, and is, so wonderful to me. To us.
Tyler passed all of his tests with flying colors, and before we knew it, it was time to go home. After packing up, signing all the paperwork, and passing the car seat check, we headed off. A little family.
Throughout this whole experience, I was so grateful for the knowledge that I can be with my family forever. There was such a rush of emotions when Tyler was born, but the most evident of them was that of love. Unconditional and eternal. Love. "I love you," was a phrase that passed often from our lips that weekend. Tom expressed love for me, and I for him. We both whispered it into Tyler's tiny, perfect ears over and over. That, and "You are so awesome."
I had heard from many sources that the birth of a baby can be tough on the parents' relationship. Not ours. In fact, I had never been so in love with Tom in all my life. I would watch him in awe as he held, cooed, and loved his son. My eyes would fill with grateful tears over and over again. I would think to myself, he is a good man, a good husband, and a good father. I couldn't have asked for anyone better. He is perfect for me, for our family, and I can't wait for the fun opportunities Tyler would bring to us for our growth. I smiled with the beautiful thought of eternity before us.
