Honestly, I don't even know what to say. A year ago today, my life changed forever. Matthew James arrived a month early, catching both Jonathan and I completely off-guard and by surprise. This year has been the hardest, most challenging, and yet happiest year of my life. To watch my son grow--and look back and realize how much I'VE grown--has been amazing. This past year, I have been pushed, pulled, and stretched into a new person. Somehow, I became a mother.
Matthew James, you have made me a better person simply by your presence. Your laughs, smiles, and infectious joy have made me feel complete for the first time ever. I have been overwhelmed by watching the miracle of God work in and through you. Thank you for blessing our lives in ways that I didn't know was possible. Thank you for being who you are.
As we celebrate your birth, here's a look back at how you came into the world. . .
If you follow my blog, you know that my due date is August 26. Well, God and Baby W. apparently had other plans. Matthew James Wright was born August 1 at 0640. He weighed in at 6 lbs, 4 oz and was 19.5 inches long.
And here's the story of how it happened. . .
Beginning around the middle of last week, I started feeling a little funny. I was extremely exhausted and just not feeling well. Not feeling sick, just not feeling well. On our Thursday night walk with Oskar, I told Jonathan I had a feeling that Baby W.'s arrival was just around the corner. My guess was within the next two weeks. On Friday, we had our household goods delivered (FINALLY!), and we spent the next two days unpacking and arranging our house. I tried to take it easy, but anyone who has ever PCS'd knows how much work there is to do, and I just could not sit by and make my husband do everything by himself. By the time Sunday rolled around, I was physically drained. I actually slept until almost 10:30 that morning (quite a feat considering Baby W. normally starts punching my bladder and demanding food around 7:30 every day). The day was supposed to be a lazy one; a bit of cleaning, a bit of laundry, and a lot of catching up on rest. I had plans to clean the whole house (I may be pregnant, but I'm still OCD-clean) but was exhausted after completing only the upstairs portion. Jonathan went to the store to get a few groceries, and I settled down on the couch to relax for a bit.
When he returned, we decided burgers on the grill would be on the menu tonight, so Jonathan went to work preparing his patties. Once finished, he put them in the fridge to let them marinate for a bit and settled down on the couch with me to watch the Cubs vs. Cardinals game. All of the sudden, I felt a pop and a gush. It was like I was peeing my pants and couldn't stop. I jumped up. "I think my water just broke!" I yelled. I ran to the bathroom, holding my crotch, hoping I didn't drip anything on the floor (especially urine, for which Jonathan would have made fun of me mercilessly). When I got to the bathroom, I discovered it definitely was NOT urine and yelled for Jonathan to call the hospital. He turned into Superman. Within minutes, he had changed clothes, packed a bag for me, taken Oskar out to go potty, and had me in the car on the way to the hospital.
I wasn't having any contractions; in fact, I wasn't having kind of pain or discomfort at all. I was so worried I was going to show up and be told I had just peed my pants. By the time we got to the hospital, I was back-tracking my story. "Well, I think my water broke. I don't know. Maybe not." The ER sent me up to Labor and Delivery, where I met a wonderful nurse named Chloe who started running some tests on me to determine if my water actually broke. 4 hours and 3 tests later, it was confirmed that my water did indeed break. We had to wait for the doctor to come before beginning the induction process, so Jonathan went home to take Oskar for a walk and get me some food (no burgers on the grill for me tonight; he came back with Del Taco, the only thing open at 2300). Once Dr. Barnes showed up, we decided that because I wasn't having any contractions at all, I should first be given medicine to soften my cervix and make it "ripen" (doctor's words, not mine--totally gross) for induction. I was only given half a dose of the medicine just to make sure it didn't adversely affect Baby W. They told me it would take about 4 hours to take effect; they would check on me at 0330 and then begin the induction process. They estimated that I would probably actually give birth Monday night. My body had other plans.
Jonathan and I settled in to try and get some sleep; after all, it seemed like labor was going to be a LONG process, and I was already exhausted. However, about an hour after the "ripening" medicine, I began to have contractions. Each one seemed more painful than the last, and they seemed to be rapidly getting closer and closer together. I didn't understand it. This wasn't the way labor happened in movies. On screen, they were always timing the contractions (10 minutes apart! 8 minutes apart!), and it took awhile before they got so close together. I tried to grin and bear the pain for awhile, but I finally had to call Chloe in my room. Two doses of morphine later, and I was still in pain, but the doctor was adamant about not checking me until 0330. When that time finally came, I was writhing in agony and the doctor was in shock: I was already 6 cm. She paged frantically for the anesthesiologist to start my epidural but, in true military fashion, there were loads of queep and extraneous paperwork to be done before he could administer anything (although I had already filled out the necessary paperwork the week before, he "couldn't find" my signed copies). By time HE was finally ready, I was vomiting, crying, and pleading for something, anything, to make the pain stop. . . and was then told that it was too late for the epidural. It was time to push.
However, because I was in such extreme pain, I couldn't un-tense my muscles long enough to push. I was given a local anesthetic and an oxygen mask to help relax me, and away we went. Unfortunately, the anesthetic only lasted an hour; I had to push for two. After it wore off, however, the pain was so intense that the only thing I could to ease it WAS push. But my body was wearing out. I was more exhausted than I'd ever been in my entire life. As Jonathan put it, it was like I was doing crunches and holding it for 10 seconds 3 times every minute for two hours. The doctor kept telling me that Baby W. was almost there, almost there! But after two hours of hearing that, I stopped believing her. Baby W. was not coming out. He was just going to live with the top of his head sticking out of my lady parts for the rest of his life. This was never going to end. I was deliriously tired at that point, but I distinctly remember looking at Jonathan's face as he stood beside me, watching me push (gasp! he actually looked!), and I knew by the look on his face that he was thinking the same thing: this kid is NOT coming out. In desperation, I demanded that Baby W. GET OUT RIGHT NOW! Yes, I really did say that out-loud to my unborn child. Great start to mothering, huh? And then, just like that, he was there.
It's standard procedure to keep pre-term babies at the hospital for 48 hours. So I sent Jonathan home for some much-needed sleep (and to check on Oskar) while I tried to figure this whole "mommy" thing out.
So it was YOU who made me vomit every day for the first 15 weeks, gave me HORRIBLE heart-burn every night for the last 15 weeks, forced me to get up every hour to go pee, AND caused me to experience the most excruciating pain I've ever felt in my life? Ahh, well. . . you're worth it. ;)
Proud papa. . .
As you can see, he's pretty much perfect.
After almost 70 hours total in the hospital, I was so ready to GO HOME! The doctors and the nurses were all wonderful, but I missed Oskar and I was so ready to have my family complete again. And honestly, I just hate hospitals. After what seemed like forever, we finally had discharge paperwork, and we were free to go.
All in all, it was the most painful, horrible, and yet amazing experience of my life. However, I am not one of those women who has immediately forgotten the "painful" and "horrible" parts of it and says "Let's do that AGAIN!" as soon as the umbilical cord is cut. I have a beautiful, perfect newborn son; a loving, caring husband; and an adorable, loyal wiener dog. My life is bliss. :)
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