The Birth of Ryan Michael

Ryan was born at 8:23 AM. Originally it was supposed to happen at 10:30, but the hospital called and changed the time to 7:30, and told us we had to be there at 5:30 AM. I was actually happy they moved it up; I mean who was going to sleep anyway? Well, Stephen, that's it.

Jeff's mom arrived at 4:45AM; a real trooper if you ask me. At 5:15 we were off. All I can say is WOW is it different when your c-section is planned. I told the front desk my name, and they sent down a nurse to come get me. No wheelchair, nothing. It was almost anti-climatic.

When I got to my room, I got one of those lovely gowns. I asked Jeff to take one last picture of me pregnant, and then I disrobed. Hey, after infertility and having given birth before, I am not modest. Of course, I DID forget to take my underwear off; we all laughed about that one. After we filled out what seemed to be an endless amount of paperwork, I got my IV inserted and we waited and waited for the doctor's to arrive. And just so I wouldn't have an experience like last time with medication, I let two nurses and my doctor know what I was to be given. I even had all of the things the doctor told me to remind him when the delivery day happened, in a notebook. Jeff said he couldn't believe I did that. Well, let me tell you after that hellish experience with Stephen's birth I was making sure NOTHING like that happened again.

My dad and SIL were there for support, which was really nice. It was also my SIL's birthday, and she took the day off of work to be there with me. I really appreciated that! My dad also took the day off and his work even sent flowers, which was very nice.

So the nurse asks if I want to be wheeled into the operating room or walk. I have always walked into my planned surgeries, so I chose to walk. My dad couldn't believe I was going to walk in. Men are funny that way. In I walked and got positioned for the spinal. Next, we all agreed on a radio station. Can you believe when my surgery started we were listening to the Rolling Stones! When Ryan was born the song that goes...'Even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with you honey' was on. Anyway, once the incision was made they let Jeff in. Now one thing I could have done without was the running commentary on what they were doing; there was a student nurse in there. I mean I REALLY could have used not knowing where my bladder was being placed. YUK! WHen Ryan's head was out, the doctor's asked if Jeff wanted to take a look. The funniest expression was on Jeff's face as he said no thanks! I would have looked; that would've been cool. Then the nurses asked us our guess for his weight. I said 8 lb. 5oz., Jeff guessed in the upper 8's, and the nurse guessed 8 pounds even. Well, I was closest. He was 8 pounds 7 ounces and only 19 1/2 inches long. Stephen was 8 pounds 10 ounces and 22 inches long. So all of Steve's newborn clothes are too long on Ryan.

The great thing about his delivery was the nurses were so encouraging. They kept telling me how great I was doing. Whether or not that was true, I really needed to hear that. Another wonderful thing was they handed Ryan to Jeff and let him sit with me until the last 5 minutes of them stitching me up. Jeff tried to get me to hold Ryan, he knew how important it was to me, but I couldn't reach him the way I was positioned. BUT he was close to me, and we were only separated for 5 minutes, not 45 like with Stephen. I also love the doctor who delivered Ryan; that helped too.

Going back to my room and seeing my dad holding Ryan was such a special sight. He stayed for awhile and then told me he had to go to the cemetary to tell a special woman that her baby just had another baby; he had tears in his eyes. I held mine in. Plus, I was still euphoric over having my little baby boy.

The rest of my stay was uneventful, well, except for the time they couldn't wake me up. They discontinued that medication. Scared the hell out of my husband. He said he was slapping me and I wasn't waking up, so he got the nurse. I don't remember a bit of it. Funny, huh? My husband will never forget that moment, and I don't have a clue that it even happened.

We came home on Saturday afternoon; a beautiful, sunny day. The opposite of the day we brought Stephen home. That also was a Saturday, but it was cold, cloudy and windy. The kind of day I hate. I already was suffering from PPD, so the weather wasn't helping.

I have had my hormonal moments. Just mentioning my mom brings me to tears while usually I can hold in my emotions. I also have some down moments, but just as quickly my mood changes and I am just so in love with my son. Even in the hospital, I would wait for them to bring him to me at 6:30AM and would be mad if it was later. I would just sit and hold him, feed him and love him. With Steve, I didn't want much to do with him. I am almost afraid to admit that. I bonded with Ryan so quickly. Who knew it could be this way?

I also am taking my oral progesterone and anti-depressant to ward off any PPD. I believe in being pro-active. The single most important factor in my feeling better I believe to be the way I was treated. The nurses were wonderful; the doctor's the same. I was treated with respect and like a human being. I was given proper pain management. I was an instrumental partner in my medical care. That's huge. Doctor's aren't God and they also don't read minds. I was firm about my desire for a good birth experience and how that could happen. We worked together. My doctor even talked with me Monday when I had my staples removed about my mood. I gave him a thumbs up, and told him he made a good call. We all did, and my sons and husband, as well as myself, are benefitting from it. Thank you God for that. Now if you could send my mom back, life would be as good as it gets!