Jacob's Birth Post

Today my little baby boy is 2 weeks old. I cannot believe how fast the time has gone by. He is currently weighing in at 9lbs. and is now 21 inches long. As mentioned in my previous post, I am healing nicely, but am still continuing to heal. My incision still aches and it still hurts to get out of bed or off the couch, but in general recovery is going well. I am just impatient and am ready to be at 100%. I also still look pregnant! My belly pooch continues to decrease daily, but to my disappointment, I still look 3 months pregnant. The doctor tells me it will take about 6 weeks to get back to "normal"; in the meantime my uterus will continue to shrink. Grrr.

2 weeks ago Jacob Wyatt entered this world. He was actually scheduled for a c-section on June 15, but my baby had other plans and arrived at 5:42am on June 12. He broke my water that Friday morning at 2:50. I was obviously caught unaware as I was not expecting to go into labor. I rolled out of bed, landed on the floor and yelled for Mark, who simply questioned whether or not I had wet the bed, and after convincing him that my water was indeed broken, we flew into action.

Now, as I mentioned, Jake came early. Prior to his arrival, I was still under the impression that I had the weekend to get ready for his Monday due date. Therefore, I hadn't finished packing my hospital bag, laundry was piled up, the house was an absolute mess, and I had a pedicure scheduled for Friday afternoon (after all, I couldn't bring a baby into this world without pretty toes). So as we flew into action that Friday morning, we grabbed what we could for the hospital that was still needed, called the midwife, tried to slow the flow of my water, left a message at the salon canceling my pedicure, and left the house the absolute mess it was in order to get to the hospital by 3:30am. My water never did stop flowing. I sat on a wad of blankets in the car, changed my pads 3 times, but I was soaked to my knees by the time we checked in, and even after changing into the hospital gown I continued to leak. (Never knew so much fluid could exit the body at once)!

My doctor and midwife were called in after our arrival and I was taken in for my c-section around 5:25am after having 8 "monster" contractions according to the nurses. Ironically, the pain from my contractions didn't hold a candle to the pain I'd had from my kidney cyst. They were uncomfortable, yes, but not painful.

I was incredibly nervous the entire time I was waiting to give birth. In an odd way, I was glad Jake decided to come early. This meant I had less time to be nervous or anxious before his arrival. I know that if I went in on Monday as scheduled, my blood pressure would have been through the roof as I would have been a bundle of nerves. This way, I had no choice and I had less time to worry about the surgery.

Around 5:30am the spinal I had been given began to take effect. The team went to work, Mark was brought in to hold my hand, and we anxiously awaited our son's birth. During a c-section there is a barrier between the parents and the surgical team. We couldn't see what was happening. I was numb, but I could still feel "movements" and pressure. It was as though I knew exactly where they were touching, but couldn't feel the details or pain. At one point, the anesthesiologist leaned over and whispered in my ear, "You're going to feel some pressure now. They are going to take the baby". At that point, I couldn't breathe. The pressure was incredible and it felt as though they were shoving the baby forward, up toward my throat. I leaned towards Mark, who was gripping my hand with the nervousness, excitement, and love that a father-to-be has, and told him I couldn't breathe. Right at that precise moment I felt relief and then we heard the baby cry.

I cannot adequately express what it is like to hear your newborn baby's cry for the first time. I was filled with overwhelming emotion and began to cry myself. Mark was also crying, kissing me, telling me how great I had done, and continued clasping my hand tightly. I desperately wanted to see my boy, but he was immediately cut from the cord, wrapped up, and then handed to Mark. Mark was able to show his face to me, while we both bawled (actually the three of us were crying) and then Mark was escorted from the surgical room while the team attended to sewing me up.

I was in the surgical room for another 30-40 minutes. Mark was with Jake the whole time while he got his first bath, heel prick, vitamin k shot, etc. As I was wheeled out of surgery to the recovery room, they stopped by the nursery long enough for Mark to come to the window to show me the baby one more time. I remember giving him a "thumbs up" while he smiled proudly. I was in recovery for another hour to hour and a half. I remember being thirsty and asking for water which I couldn't have yet, but the nurse was able to give me ice chips.

It felt like an eternity before I was finally taken to my hospital room to spend time with my hubby and baby as a family. As soon as I was taken to my room Mark came in with Jake. Finally, we were all together. I remember holding Jake, kissing him, crying, kissing Mark, crying, and feeling completely overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. I also remember throwing up 3 times. Then I believe I slept. We spent a total of 3 nights and 4 days in the hospital. We actually came home on the 15th (the day we were supposed to go in).

Those first few nights in the hospital were rough. How does one suddenly know how to be a mother? How does one know how to breastfeed? How does one distinguish the sounds of her baby's cries to know which pitch means "I'm hungry" vs. "Change my diaper"?

I suppose the wisdom of motherhood comes with time. It's been two weeks now, but I still have much to figure out. Exhaustion is taking over as is lack of experience. We have learned quite a bit about our boy over these last two weeks. He has begun developing his personality, Grandma Kris has been here the whole time (unfortunately, she leaves tomorrow), Mommy turned 30, he's already rolled onto his side and can thrust his head upward purposely.
Another post, however, will involve more details regarding his first two weeks of life.

My baby was, and is, perfect. At birth he weighed 8lbs. 15.5 oz. and was 19 inches long. I had done it. I had become a mother, was recovering from surgery, and did indeed bring a baby into this world without having pretty toes!

Little Jacob Wyatt, we love you more than you can ever know!

(above) Just outside the hospital before checking in

(above) The mohawk the nurses gave him in the hospital, and my new favorite 'do :)