The Birth

In the tradition of all new mothers who want and need to tell their war stories, and to preserve it while I can still remember vividly... here's the story of Caleb's birth...

February 11, we had a doctor's appointment in the morning. We waltzed in at 9:30 and I had only the smallest glimmer of hope that the doctor might say it was time and we could go ahead and deliver. I even skipped my lovenox injection that morning, hoping against hope, having had enough of heartburn, backache, and that feeling of your hips about to fall apart completely. And sure enough... ultrasound wand in hand, my fairy godmother of a perinatologist said "Not enough fluid. Time to take baby today." I looked at Dwayne and gave him the thumbs up. He freaked.

So while they called my OB, we started on the call list, letting everyone know it was time, and setting the plan in motion. We finally got settled in a Labor and Delivery suite and by around 2:00 pm, out came the pitocin. Dreaded drug of every mother who has experienced it's excruciation. (Is that a word? Is now, I guess!!) I had decided if I ended up needing pitocin that I was going to opt for an epidural. So the nurse sent for anesthesia. No dice. Evidently epidurals can't be administered until 24 hours after a lovenox injection at the risk of paralysis. Unfortunately the pitocin was dripping into my IV already and labor had begun. It wasn't so bad.... yet. But I was scared out of my mind. Laboring on pitocin with no pain relief was NOT in my plan.
I set myself a goal to hang in there until 9:30pm, my 24 hour mark, so I could get that epidural. Ha. Ha ha ha. Around about 5:00 or so, things started to intensify. The kids had all been hanging out in the room with me and I was tolerating contractions really well, but at this point it was getting intense and I wasn't sure I wanted my little ones (or big ones) to see me that way. They went to grab some food and while they were gone, Dwayne helped me to the bathroom. Something about standing up made things shift into overdrive. I had a couple of contractions on that bathroom trip that nearly had me on the floor. Thank goodness my man can hold me up!

He got the nurse and she checked dilation. 8 centimeters. At this point I'm squeezing the crap out of Dwayne's hand and the tears are starting. The nurse offered me Stadol, saying it would take the edge off and would only last about an hour or so. I agreed, thinking it would get me through to 9:30. Ha. Ha ha ha.

So in goes the Stadol through the IV and while the nurse injects it, I tell her: "OK, I'm not pushing, but my body is. My body is pushing the baby out." She takes this as a tip that I might be ready to push. Hmmm... Another dilation check and sure enough! 10 Centimeters!! Call the OB!! He runs over and through a Stadol haze, I could see them bringing in delivery equipment. The part about taking the edge off? I'm not so sure. But Stadol does produce intoxication. That I know.

My husband was still holding my hand and reassuring me, drying my tears as usual. I heard the doc say "You can push now." Out came Caleb's head, and one more push, out came his body. I opened my heavy eyelids and my beautiful son was there. Doctor Hogan put him on my chest and Dwayne cut the cord. Then we both cried. Actually all three of us cried! We did it!

We brought all our kids in to see him, Nathan, Jessica (Caleb's godmother and sister in law), Mackenzie, Levi and Mel (Dwayne's nephew and Caleb's godfather). We all spent a few minutes together before Caleb had to go to the nursery because of his breathing.

In hindsight, the Stadol totally wasn't worth it. Didn't help the pain that much and it made me intoxicated for my son's first moments. A fact I regretted intensely when he ended up in NICU and I couldn't hold him or feed him whenever I wanted. I cried and cried. But looking back, my memory of the experience is fairly clear. I'm thankful to be able to remember in spite of the drug fog.

All in all, a gorgeous little son has been born. A miracle. My Caleb had to fight to get here and fight to stay and fight he did, just like his namesake Caleb in the Bible. Our family is overjoyed and I'm having too much fun being a mommy of a newborn again. Here we are:

Day five

Day five at home. I have to admit I'm a little overwhelmed. I'm not sure why. I mean, I've done this before. Twice. I have two beautiful, healthy, amazing kids to show for it. Part of me just tries to look ahead to when mom is gone and real life sets in. How will I get everyone in the car and to school on time? How will I ever go back to work?

Now, I know that's silly thinking. I'll do it somehow. And I'll feel better and better in the next few weeks. It'll happen. I can't let those thoughts come in and take away the joy of these moments.

So it's time to refocus. Refocus on baby smiles while he sleeps, tiny diapers, fuzzy hair on his head, tiny fingers and toes, and looking right into his eyes while he nurses. Refocus on how proud his daddy is and how tiny he looks in his daddy's hands, how he turns his head to check out what his big brother and sister are up to, and how he has a fancy crib but prefers my arms every time.

And refocus on taking a nap while he naps... g'night.

We Are Home!

Caleb is home! We brought him home yesterday, Mardi Gras Day! He's doing very well. We are blessed to have endured 5 scary days with virtually no scrapes or bruises. Caleb was born quickly. VERY quickly. As in two measly pushes quickly. One for the head, one for the rest of him. He had some breathing trouble and was diagnosed with TTN. This is common in newborns who are born by C-section or who are born very quickly. It takes a few days for the lungs to catch up with the fact that they are no longer inside mom but on the outside with the job of breathing actual air.

So gradually his breathing stabilized, and we were discharged from the NICU on Mardi Gras Day. We are exhausted but so happy to be home. My mom is here and taking care of the kids and me. Dwayne, the super proud daddy is back to work after spending five days taking the most awesome care of me and Caleb. And I'm nursing for all I'm worth and trying to sleep some in between. We are so thankful for your prayers and love. More later! WITH pictures, I promise.

Caleb is born!!!

Caleb Paul Jeffries Hyman was born February 11, 2010 at 7:05pm. 5lb,5oz, 18 in. long. We had about 30 minutes with him before he was whisked away, and then ended up in NICU. Having a little breathing trouble. He's improving every day. Thanks to everybody for calling and checking in on us. Please be patient if we can't call you back or keep things as updated as we'd like. Our days right now are nothing but trips to the hospital, pumping breast milk, trying to recover and praying for our little man. We are exhausted but thankful. My Mom is here and taking good care of big sister Mackenzie and big brother Levi.

Love to you all, and we will update as soon as we can. Praying and hoping to bring Caleb home by Tuesday.

IT IS DONE!

I totally just watched the Saints win the Superbowl!!! WOW! I'm not one to buy all the hype and the destiny this and that. However, I just can't help being a little emotional on this one. It just plain feels awesome to see a dream come true. A good thing has happened to a city of passionate, fun-loving people and most of them are crying like babies with the joy of it. (and the beer of course)

Sometimes life brings along enough bad stuff that it makes you kind of scared to hope for something good to happen. It's nice to see an impossibility become possible, a glimmer of hope actually become reality, to live through a victory no one thought would ever come.

Too cool. Too cool that my kids witnessed a historic event and the courage of a city whose tragedy they also experienced. Too cool that my new baby will be born the year the Saints won the Superbowl. Too cool to see the stuff of a hollywood movie happen for real in front of my eyes. Yay, Saints! Bless You Boys!!

GEAUX SAINTS!!!

Me and the Girls at work!! Saints party has already started.

WHO DAT, BABY!!!!

Countdown

The end of pregnancy can be like the longest, most torturous countdown there is. It's the wierdest mix of giddy anticipation and adrenaline-pumping, nerves-on-end vigilance that there is. Just for fun, and to let off some steam, here's what the countdown looks like at our house:

10: Find a spot on your belly with no bruise to administer your blood thinner shot. "Honey? Can you look under there and tell me where there's no bruise?"

9: Try to get a couple of consecutive hours of sleep. No dice. Run yourself a warm bath at 2am out of pain and sheer boredom. One can only watch Teen Mom on MTV in the middle of the night so many times. Make involuntary popping noises and cries of pain when attempting to roll over in bed. Husband wakes up. "Baby, you ok?"

8: Cry hysterically for a reason. Cry hysterically again for no reason at all. Husband wakes up again. "Baby, you ok?"

7: Notice how everyone who sees you immediately looks down at the middle section of your body which currently doesn't appear to be physically possible. Either they're looking at that or I'm WAY sexier than I thought I was. Husband looks too. "Baby, you are beautiful!"

6: Be INSANELY protective and emotional over your existing beautiful children. Tear up when your seven year old boy throws his arms around your huge belly, and giggle with your twelve year old girl when she feels the baby kick. Watch their gorgeous heads of hair disappear around the corner as they walk into school with their friends. Grab the tissues and have your very own Hallmark commercial right there.

5: Go over every possible going-into-labor scenario with your husband until you both are delirious or delusional with anticipation. While doing so, realize that what will actually happen is COMPLETELY unknown and out of your control. Continue delusions and delirium. Finally try to decide to be happy and enjoy WHATEVER happens.

4: Wash, fold, and put away all your baby stuff. Then REALLY hope the determination is accurate and it really is a boy. Sit in your rocking chair and stare at all the baby stuff. Sit pretty much anywhere and stare.

3: Miss your mother like you never knew was possible. Cry some more to your very patient and understanding husband. "Baby, it's ok."

2: Feel nauseated and want nothing to eat at all. Then eat everything you can get your hands on.

1: Feel and watch baby Caleb moving around in there and think how much you will miss this miracle after he's born. Sit back, relax and wait for it...

BLASTOFF!!