Sunday, April 01, 2007

Evan's birth story...

I will definitely have to do this for Justin too. But, seeing as how Evan turns 5 TODAY, I will do his story first.


I remember March 31, 2002 pretty clearly. It was Easter Sunday, and we had only 1 child. I was VERRRRY pregnant with Evan and was wearing the only dress that fit: a huge billowing blue flowered monstrosity... Not flattering at ALL, but I was due the day before, so there you go.

Easter was normal. Fun. Pretty nice but cool out. Late that night, I started having contractions. Timed them, and everything pointed towards labor, but they were pretty far apart, so I wasn't too worried. I told Patrick to call into work to let them know that he wouldn't be in on Monday.

I had an appointment for a non-stress test the next morning. I remember calling my doctor's office that morning and telling them that I was definitely in labor, and should I even bother coming in for the appointment? They said yes, so I grudgingly got ready.

We dropped Justin at my sister's house and she was soooo excited! I remember how excited she was pretty clearly... the contractions still weren't awful, but were 5 minutes apart by the time we actually got into the office and into a chair for the monitoring. Evan was still pretty active and they had a REALLY hard time getting a good reading on his heart rate for the stretches of time that they needed. My doctor recommended (after us being monitored for 2 HOURS) that we go to the hospital for pitocin after he read the strips from the test.

I REALLY Didn't want the pitocin and tried to talk him out of it, but after he said the line of "Well, if it was my wife, I'd want her on the pitocin, but it's your call..." I conceded. I mean, really? What would you do?

Let me just say this: PITOCIN SUCKS. Any woman who makes it through labor with pitocin withOUT asking for drugs has incredible pain tolerance. I delivered both of my other children without pitocin and without epidurals (Corinne without any drugs and Justin with icky icky narcotic drug that I HATED almost as much as the epidural, but that's a different story). But with Evan? I got over my incredible fear of the epidural once the pains from the pitocin came and NEVER WENT AWAY. I had a constant full-fledged contraction for a really long time. It just went up and never went down. No breaks in between. Just constant pain. I couldn't breathe and I was getting hysterical over the thought of it not stopping.

Well, after the epidural (which hurt like a bitch. NO THANK YOU EVER AGAIN) I did feel better. The doctor checked me. I was something around 3 or 4. He then broke my waters and LEFT THE BUILDING. Yes. My doctor went home for lunch because he thought I was going to go for a few more hours.

Ahem. Let me just tell you that I delivered my first child quickly. My mother delivered all of us quickly. My sister delivered her daughter quickly. And this was my second child. Leaving the freakin building was the DUMBEST thing I have ever heard of.

So, WITH my epidural working, I suddenly said to Patrick and the nurse (who came in to check the fluids or something by my head...) that I felt "different" and in pain. And I started the clutching and deep breathing. The nurse didn't feel the need to rush to check me but finally did after I told her I thought I was pushing. Ah, YEAH. Head's RIGHT THERE and coming down! She and Patrick were shouting at me to stop pushing and I said "HUH?!? I don't know what the hell you're talking about!!" Seriously? I think I was unconsciously pushing but HELLO?!?! That's what a mother is supposed to do when she is fully dilated. It is not my fault that they weren't on the ball!!

You can imagine my mother and other family members that were in the hall waiting for me to be done getting checked when they heard Patrick as he ran out there yelling for a doctor. To see the nurses and midwife come flying down the hall... to see the code blue or whatever color light flashing over my door... My mom was freaking out!

Literally, my son was CAUGHT by the midwife that was on-call as she yanked on gloves while running into the room. I don't remember pushing more than once. He was gorgeous and screaming and I remember saying very very loudly, while laughing and crying, that he looked just like his brother!! I was so high on adrenaline, I can't even remember how Patrick must have felt. Probably terrified to see his wife and son in such a state.

I remember being thrilled and happy. I remember the snow falling (on April 1st!) outside my window. I remember introducing Justin to his brother for the first time and Justin thinking he was "nice."

His sweet little head... his stork bite on his forehead... dark brown hair and eyes that were almost brown upon birth!

My life changed 5 years ago today... I became a mother of 2. I became a multi-tasker, more patient (and LESS patient simultaneously!), more relaxed, more resourceful, more filled with love. Evan gave me a new chance at motherhood, another chance to see the world through fresh eyes, another chance to cry with pure joy...

He's still a mommy's boy. Still loves crawling into bed with us and snuggling for "just a little longer." Still thinks his brother is the almighty cool dude. Still has that sweet tooth and will try anything if it's coated in chocolate or sugar!

I love this kid. My middle child...

Here's an excerpt from a poem that is framed on my wall, from my own mother to me. I don't know the author:

To the Middle Child

I've always loved you best -
because you drew a dumb spot in the family
and it made you stronger for it.
You cried less, had more patience, wore faded clothes
and never in your life did anything "first."
But it only made you more special.

You are the one we relaxed with and realized a dog
could kiss you and you wouldn't get sick. You could
cross a street by yourself long before you were old enough to get married,
and the world wouldn't end it you went to bed with dirty feet.
You were the child of our busy, ambitious year.
Without you, we never would have survived
the job changes, the house we couldn't afford and the
tedium and routine that is marriage.

You were the continuance.

(Just an FYI, she gave each of us a poem and each calls us the favorite!)

Happy Birthday Evie Bevie!!
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