I'm almost 3 months late with this post, but in my defense the pictures were allll the way in Strathmore, and according to my mother, we never visit anymore. So you can see the problem.
I thought I would tribute Noah's first birthday post by writing about the day he came into our lives. In places it may be a teensy bit graphic and like, reaallly long. So I promise not to hate you if you just skip to the bottom and look at the pictures.
Friday, November 9
Due Date: November 17
I had been feeling contractions for the better part of the afternoon, but really what did I know? I had no idea what this would feel like so I chalked it up to back spasms and called it a day around 9:00. ( for the record I always knew he would come early. I just had a feeling. But let's be honest... if he had come late I would probably have said the same thing. I just really really wanted this to be over)
I couldn't really sleep because of the stupid 'back spasms'. Some would call me a little slow but at 11:00 I finally realized this was it. Kind of. Little did I know this was just the beginning. The VERY beginning. I started timing them and they were 7-10 minutes apart. I tossed and turned from excitement (pain eventually took over and that emotion quickly faded) and finally at about 4:00 in the morning I woke Ed up. He was all disorientated like he usually is at 4am and kept asking me if I was serious. No Babe, I just couldn't sleep and thought I would play a little joke on you. Of course I am serious! Who jokes about that kind of stuff?
So the contractions kept coming, inevitable I know. They got a little closer together but each one was very long and very intense. We called our prenatal instructor,who agreed to be at the birth with us, just to give her a heads up not to plan anything too interesting that day. After that we made the calls to our family. As it was already the morning of the 10th I called Wes and Amanda and asked if Jarom wouldn't mind sharing his birthday with his new cousin.
I really wanted to labour at home for as long as I could before we made our way to the hospital but once again, having never felt anything like this I was ready to go at 10:00 thinking I would get there and have this baby out before supper time. (ohhhh that is soooo funny now that I look back on it) We got there around 10:30ish and was admitted into a triage room. We met the Doctor that would be delivering Noah and I was so grateful because I had met her a couple of times at my prenatal appointments and thought she was very nice. And gentle, which was something I was really hoping to get. Once again, little did I know that "gentle" and "labor" do not belong in the same sentence together. Ever. My first experience with this was when they checked to see how far I was dilated. WHOA. Excuse me for being a tad graphic but I thought her hand was going to come out of my mouth. I had never felt so violated. With that fresh on my mind they told me that I was only 2-3 centimeters at that point. I cried as soon as they left the room. Ed had to go and fill out some paper work so there I lay. Just me and my contractions and my tears. It was a real party.
When Ed got back he talked me out of my little pity sesh and we decided to get moving to see if we could get this baby to come sooner. We took a walk and did some stairs. I felt so out of my element. Stopping to bend over or squat next to a wall when a contraction came with everyone staring at me weird as they walked past. It could have been the pain combined with the hormones in my body but I felt like snapping. I wanted to yell at them. Move it along folks! You've never seen a woman in labor before?! I'd like YOU to try and do what I am dong mister and then we'll see if you still give me that stink eye!
After the slowest hour of my life we made our way back to the triage room and stayed in the room for a while longer before they came to tell us they had a room available in L&D. We met our nurse who was totally cute and totally nice. She also totally saw me in all my naked glory while I labored on the ball in the shower. So hot.
I loved that shower. I would have stayed there the whole time if it wasn't for nazi Ed telling me I needed to try different positions to help the process go faster. (note to self, never listen to Ed again) Kidding. I love you Babe, I couldn't have done it without you. It was around 5:30 that evening that Sue, our instructor walked through the door. It was like a breath of fresh air for both Ed and I. Where Ed was all nervous to get wet from the shower, she practically jumped right in there with me saying " I wore my pants that dry really fast!" It was a nice advantage to have here there. She has 3 children of her own so she knew just where and how to push on my back during a contraction, which freed Ed up to be my verbal and emotional support up by my face. They were life savers and a terrific team.
The Doctors were constantly checking my dilation which was just as uncomfortable as the previous ones. Each time I was hoping that they would tell me it was time to push, and each time they would tell me I had only progressed minimally. At one point I was so exhausted and in pain I broke down. I was sitting on the edge of the bed sobbing. The Doctors had been asking me every time they walked in "Kevyn, is there anything else we can get for you?" Meaning, "would you like an epidural so we don't have to listen the weeping and wailing?" I said no but as soon as she left the room I told Ed and Sue that I needed it. I couldn't make it any longer. I cried for my Mom and for drugs. For 45 minutes I sat and cried and tried to convince them that I wasn't strong enough. They fought me every step of the way. Sue kept telling me, let's work through one more contraction and then we can discuss it again. She's sneaky that one. We made it through countless contractions and when the Doctor finally returned and checked me I was 9 centimeters. Hallelujah! I could hear the chorus of angels, and I knew victory and the end was in sight.
Then came the 'bad news'. I had what was called a lip of cervix. Sounds kinda nasty, I know. I sort of hate explaining it sometimes but it's part of the story and the story must go on. Basically I was instructed not to push when I felt the urge, which was pretty much every contraction and they were coming fast and hard at less than 2 minutes apart. Now for all those of you who have had children, you know that when you get that 'urge' to push. There's no stopping it. It's like... It's like... well I'm not sure what to compare it to. It's just really almost impossible. I say almost, because I had to do it. For 2 hours. It was ridiculous. Probably the worst part of the whole labour. I would have gladly had contractions for another 12 hours over having to resist pushing. They had me in all sorts of positions that defy gravity so as to help Noah stay in instead of shooting out. If I wasn't ready to scratch my eyes out, while chewing my own arm off, I probably would have thought it funny.
After what seemed like an eternity the Doctor finally gave me the go ahead to push. I nearly kissed her. I sat up, I was focused, I was ready to go, I was ready to be done... and... nothin. Not a thing. I didn't feel a single contraction! It was as if the minute they decided he could finally come out and meet us, he was like.. "oh no you di-int. We'll do this on my time." I was tired, I was sweaty, I was grumpy so I balled up all the energy I had left and I started to push. I didn't care if it was time or not, I was getting that baby out of me. It was 12:00am then. Fifty minutes later our beautiful boy was heard by all as he entered the world. He let everyone know he had arrived. Even my Mom and Mother in law down the hall in the waiting room. I remember Ed's face welling up with tears and then they placed Noah on my tummy. His hair was dark and curly, his eyes were pinched shut and his mouth was wide open with cries of protest. Perfection. 7lbs 2oz of it.
One year later, November 11th 12:50am, I sat in his room watching him sleep. He has more hair but it's still curly. He has big beautiful eyes like his Dad, but my coloring. And he still protests... loudly. But we love him anyways and couldn't imagine life without him.
His birthday was very nice. It was attended by just family which I really enjoyed. I liked how small and intimate it was. He was a champ and was so excited to have all those people adore him.
(I wonder who he inherits that from!)
And now for the pictures:
Of course, he's totally into backyardigans. Those little figurines are practically his favorite toy in the house to date.
Grandpa Prepchuk was appalled that he wasn't going to have a hand made cake so he took the liberty of making one.. or four himself. He put a lot of work and hours into making it. Thanks Grandpa!
The little Bean opening his gift from Mommy and Daddy
Some moooore gifts. He was spoiled. I think these ones were shoes from Auntie Brenda.
Auntie Janay's basketball hoop. His face says it all. Now he can be just like his Daddy
Just about to dig into the cake.
Yummmm. He didn't get all that messy, which as an OCD Mom I was very grateful for!
Oops these are a little backwards. This was just after we finished singing Happy Birthday.
I know, I know. As if we didn't have enough cake going around. We had a traditional Mexican cake as well. Sooo delish.And finally, a little video for your viewing pleasure. I didn't get any pictures of it, but we had balloons covering the ceiling in the living room. His face at the end is priceless. He's been fascinated with balloons ever since.
Happy Birthday Big Man
