I have been inspired to capture my children's birth stories. So here's chapter one...
Brady’s entrance into the world started in the fall of 2007. I had baby fever….bad! I wanted to start our family, but David was not completely on board, so I did not push it. Then one day he gave me a card with a binky and told me he was ready to try. We both thought it would take a while to get pregnant, so I wanted to have plenty of time. We decided to try to get pregnant the week of Thanksgiving. The week before Christmas we found out we were pregnant.
It was a Sunday night when we had a positive pregnancy test. David and I went to Target to buy a test because I had some minor signs that I could be pregnant. Honestly, I thought I was just being dramatic. But, we were bored, so off to Target we went. We ran into my sister and my Dad there (they were Christmas shopping for my Mom), but I hid the pregnancy test because I did not want speculation to start. So, we went home and took the test. I threw it away after a few minutes, certain it was negative. I went into the living room and just hung out with David for a few minutes. For whatever reason, I thought I should check the test one more time. I grabbed a tissue and took that test back out of the garbage. I could not believe it when I saw that blessed second line. I was astounded. I googled pregnancy test pictures to see if the line was dark enough to be real…seriously. I could not believe we were already pregnant. I called the doctor the next day to schedule an appointment. We went in that Tuesday for a pregnancy test. They took my urine sample to confirm that I was pregnant. It came back negative. I was devastated. David had brought along our pregnancy test in a Ziploc bag and showed it to the nurse. She said that was definitely positive. I asked for a blood test and they agreed. We had to wait until the next day for the results. That night was so incredibly long. I called the next morning as soon as the doctor’s office opened. That was December 19th, 2007. The nurse told me that I was indeed pregnant. I was ecstatic. I called David at work, but he did not answer. I wanted him to be the first to know, so I had to keep calling and calling. I tried to trick him, but he caught on. We were elated. We told everyone!
The pregnancy progressed well. I felt nauseous the first trimester and was exhausted, but still hanging in there. I loved the second trimester and could not wait until April when we would find out the gender of our first born. I was pretty positive we were going to have a little boy, but wanted to have it confirmed. He behaved wonderfully for the ultrasound tech and I was looking at David when she said “It’s a boy”. I’ll never forget David’s face. We went to Old Navy after the appointment and bought him his first outfits. I was so proud to show off his ultrasound pictures, I took them everywhere.
Everything was going well until our 33rd week. I had gained the right amount of weight and was feeling pretty good. I woke up on a Wednesday morning in July with some puffiness in my face and hands and what I thought were contractions. David and I happened to both be home that morning. I called the doctor and they were able to see me 15 minutes later. Dr. Firestein examined me and sent me to Good Sam to report to the Triage floor. I was scared, but found comfort knowing that we were at least 33 weeks along and that my contractions were not regular. The kept me in triage for about six hours before admitting me to the hospital. After two long, horrible nights at the hospital, the doctor sent me home on strict bed rest. I was devastated, but prepared to do whatever it took to keep my little man healthy and in there longer.
After four weeks of bed rest, I had had it. I was emotionally drained and missed the world. One night, I had a weird feeling that my blood pressure was high. I had never had blood pressure problems before, but I just had a feeling. I took my blood pressure with an electronic cuff and it was crazy high. I woke David up and took his to make sure the cuff was working. His was normal. We called Triage and the doctor was not worried. I did not like this, but could not do anything at that time. The next day, the doctor on call called me to check in on me. She wanted to see me right away. I went into the office that day and she decided to induce me at 1 a.m. (a day and a half later) due to hypertension. I was nervous and yet relieved that we were going to meet our little man.
We had to be at Good Sam at midnight on August 14th. I packed so many bags, I looked ridiculous. I did not care though, I had weeks to make our checklists and we were not going to leave anything unprepared. They began my induction at 1 a.m. The nurse that came in to get all my IV’s started for my Pitocin did a very poor job and I had blood all over the sheets. I was hoping she’d change them, but she never did. I should have known this was not a good sign! After about six hours, I asked for the epidural. I tried to hang in there, but I needed some relief. The epidural was administered and I experienced some moderate relief. After a little bit of time, it wore off and I was in a lot of pain. The worst part was that I could not get up and move because of the epidural. I know visitors starting coming in at this point, but it gets hazy. I know David’s Mom was up there, as well as my sister and my Mom. I told my Dad to stay at work and just come up after. I was not too optimistic that we would have our little guy before 5 p.m. I think David’s family was beginning to gather in the waiting room, but I was too exhausted to pay any attention to this. I did not want anyone in the labor room but David. I was just too miserable to be the “hostess”. We watched hours of the Office on DVD, but after a while it did not distract me anymore. David’s Mom brought him a sandwich and he apologized like crazy for eating it. The last I wanted to do was eat, no apology necessary! The time all seems to mix together here, but I know that at one point the nurses and doctor rushed in because they were concerned about the baby. They put a monitor on his head and put an oxygen mask on me. I started having panic attacks and the nurse bent down to coach me through it. I was so scared. I tried to rest, but it would not come. I begged the nurse to do something about the epidural. The doctor came back in and gave me stronger drugs. They worked for about 20 minutes and I was back to square one. I kept begging the nurse to fix the epidural, but she insisted it was fine. Around 7:00 p.m., the doctor finally came in and told me that he would need to perform a c-section because the baby was not descending. I was so happy, I cried. I just wanted it to be over. I asked David to grab my family so I could see them. My Mom, Dad, and sister came in the room while they were putting orders in for my surgery. I just wanted to see them to help ease my nerves. They rushed me down to get my c-section. David did not even have time to grab the cameras. Our first pictures of our son are on an iPhone. All the weeks of preparation to make his entrance into this world perfect and we did not even have a camera. Lesson number one in parenting….it is never what you expect.
When I entered the operating room, things went crazy fast. The nurses and doctors were all a part of a team and I loved how they worked so well together and were relaxed. It helped me to calm down and see the light at the end of the tunnel. I could feel the doctor pulling the baby out, but it was not pain, just pressure. At 7:37 p.m., Brady Davison entered our world. I was so exhausted; I could barely open my eyes. I turned my head to the left, saw that beautiful little person and fell asleep. I was able to rest knowing that his Daddy was taking care of him.
At some point later, I was wheeled into the recovery room. I was shaking so bad that I was scared to hold Brady. David left to tell the family he was here and safe. Two people at a time were allowed to be back in the recovery room, so he took turns letting people come back. It was wonderful seeing our family love our little man, but I was so tired that I just did not know how long I could make it. I just wanted my Mom to be there and to take care of me. It’s amazing how even when we become moms ourselves, we still need our own.
After that day (and the complications that followed), I told David I could not ever do it again. Brady was so worth it, but I could not imagine ever going through it again. I don’t think you ever forget the bad parts, but you heal from it. And 21 months later, Brady became a big brother.
