During labor, I remember calling a few people, including my teen pregnancy teacher from HS. I remember being given Demerol through an IV and at one point they had to put it back in as I had pulled Ronica over to breathe with me, and she ended up on my hand, pulling-- no, ripping-- the IV out. I also remember a nurse coming in and asking me to sign papers saying I had been admitted. I signed them, but it wasn't my signature! I don't remember what I said exactly, but it was along the lines of "that's not me!", and everyone laughed.
Everyone said I was the most polite laboring woman ever! I said please and thank you to everything and was even afraid to ask for things as I didn't want to be a burden on anyone. (Totally opposite from my labor with Ephraim-- but more on that in a separate series about him.)
At the time, I didn't think I could be in any more pain, but looking back, the labor and birth of Bretton was easy-peasy! The worst parts for me were the incredible pain in my hips, as my hips spread, and the inability to go to the bathroom as the pain was too much for me to move. I ended up getting a catheter.
Labor didn't last too long, especially considering I was told that a first labor tended to be long. The first time I was checked was a few hours after I got there, due to an emergency else where in the wing. When the nurse told me I was already 8cm I was floored. Already? It didn't seem like long before I felt the urge to push, just past 1:00 am. I was told that I couldn't push yet-- that I wasn't completely ready. I think they just wanted to get the doctor in there, because I definitely felt ready! Within a half hour or so, I was pushing. Everyone encouraged me and told me it wouldn't be long. Boy, were they wrong! I ended up pushing for over 3 hours. Exhaustion was setting in. Both from lack of sleep and from pushing for so long. I finally "gave up". I just couldn't get him out, and I didn't have any energy left. So, the doctor decided to use the vacuum to assist me. After a few pushes and a good pull from the doctor, Bretton's head emerged with a very loud pop, and I let out a short, but loud scream. My first, and last. Within moments he was completely out and the doctor was taking care of him as the cord was wrapped around his neck, he was blue and not breathing. I wanted him placed on me, but he needed to be attended to. He soon was fine and offered to me, but at that point i was being stitched from the 3rd degree tear I experienced. I was afraid I would hurt him, as I was already near breaking Alicia's hand!
Soon enough, I was holding my first born; a son whom I decided to name Bretton Daniel. He was born at 5:00 am, weighing in at 9 pounds and was 22 inches long. He had a bunch of dark hair, the chubbiest little face, and a cry that sounded like the sweetest music on earth! I never thought I could fall in love with someone or something so quickly. Seven and a half hours from water breaking to birth-- the longest and shortest time frame of my life (until Ephraim).
The years following the pregnancy and birth of Bretton were filled with joy, sorrow, hardships, laughter, and so much more. Not a moment of it worth changing, as I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I have learned a tremendous amount about myself, my son, life, and most of all, love. Twelve years later and I am still learning! Bretton truly is my pride and joy-- my first born baby, who will always and forever be just that, "my baby". I may have made some "mistakes" with him, but I probably will with all my children. And you know what, that's OK with me. It is all a part of life. My life. The life I never thought I wanted, but can't imagine ever giving up or not having now that I have it!
I love you Bretton-- one day, when (if) you have your own children, you will understand how much. <3