Back when I was a teenager, living in the bay area, running around doing hoodrat shit with my friends, never in my wildest dreams did I think I would live on an acre, own 3 dogs, a cat, 4 chickens, and two pigs. Nor did I ever imagine that I would give birth to my son in the passenger side of our Dodge Ram...but I did.
So here's the story, Tuesday night I had mexican food. Tacos Los Altos to be exact, if you live in Flagstaff and you are reading this you likely nodded your head and then thought of their rolled tacos or carne asada fries. Anyways, we had mexican food, put Holiday to bed and went to bed myself. Well actually I ended up writing my last blog post because although exhausted I could not fall asleep. Went to bed around 11:30 and woke up at 2:00 with what I thought was revenge of Tacos Los Altos. But then I realized no, this was something different, these were contractions and painful ones at that. Just to give you a little bit of background, I have an "irritable uterus" which how an organ can have feelings I will never know, its kind of that whole "depressed vagina" thing I guess...but whatever. So basically I had been contracting for weeks, painful? no, uncomfortable? yes and SUPER annoying. But they don't accomplish anything so I ignore them. The contractions I had this time around we not irritable uterus contractions, these bad boys were INTENSE and freaking PAINFUL AF. So I jumped in the shower in an attempt to get them to calm down which they did, kinda... Well as soon as I got back into bed they started with a vengeance... psh screw revenge of Tacos Los Altos, this was revenge of my irritable uterus! and it was GO Time! So my husband is rushing through the house trying to gather everyone's things (Mama Tip: Have hospital and baby bag packed at like 36 weeks just in case, this saved our ass) He grabs Holiday and all the while I feel like I'm GOING. TO. DIE. and because we live in the boonies I have to hop in the truck and ride for 20 minutes to the hospital... Well, we get in the truck and because my husband is my husband it definitely did not take us 20 minutes to get to the hospital (Thanks babe) I don't know how long it took, but what I can tell you is in those minutes I was coming out of my skin, it was a pain that just thinking about it blows my mind. Hands down the worst pain of my entire life. We get to the 3rd level of the FMC parking garage and park. I look at Steve and tell him "I need to push" and he looks at me and says "No no no you don't" with a look of complete terror. From the time it took for him to walk to the passenger side of the truck I had already pushed and my son's head was out. My poor husband ran into the hospital to get help and within seconds he was back with two amazing nurses who found my son with his cord tightly wrapped around his neck. She removed it from around his neck and asked me to push one more time, and he was born. However he didn't make a sound... I got into the wheelchair and they covered him with blankets and told me to rub him over and over to keep him warm. As they hurried me to the labor and delivery department I kept asking if my baby was alive if he was ok and the nurse ever so calmly kept telling me to just keep rubbing him, which is exactly what I did. When we got into the room that I shouldve had my child in, the cord was quickly cut and my baby was taken by a wonder special care team. I was taken to a bed to finish the delivery process, but my eyes stayed fixated on the side of the room where 4 people worked diligently on my son. It felt like being on the teacups at disneyland. You can see people and things around you but things are moving so fast that you can't focus and everything becomes this big blur. But when this particular teacup stopped, they put my son in my arms and good Lord Christ in heaven he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I have to be honest, I was terrified my whole pregnancy. I was scared that by being pregnant and bringing another baby in our family that I was taking something away from my daughter. I was afraid of having and going through postpartum depression, I was afraid of the approaching sleepless nights and starting all over again with a new baby. But most of all I was terrified I would not be able to connect with this new baby, how could I possibly love anything or anyone as much as I love my daughter. How do I split my heart, my time, my attention? But this insane experience that God gave me has me looking at this an entirely new way. I am powerful and strong, I mean seriously, I had a baby med free in the passenger seat of our truck. I am resilient, like my gorgeous son who although born with a cord wrapped tightly around his neck is perfect and healthy. I have the most amazing husband who moved through the chaos with quick and steady thinking and of course superb driving skills. I have learned that your heart grows... I love both of my babies in a way I didnt think I could love, my heart literally just doubled in size. And the balance...well that will come, I am taking one day at a time because I only have control over a very very small portion of it all.
1 Comment
Ramona LeGate Bradley
12/30/2017 09:43:06 am
Thank you, Sam. Felt I was a part of this process thanks to your story. You have a great knack for writing. (My word, will your talents never cease?). I have great admiration for you, Granddaughter (that my Grandson chose for me), and am so happy for the life path you two have chosen. I love your family!!
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AuthorFull time working mama, anxious /introvert & sometimes chronic over sharer. On the wild runaway train of raising a pre-teen stepdaughter, a sassy toddler and welcoming a newborn. Archives
February 2018
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