Farm Fresh

… Fresh on to the farm. Here is an occassional chronicle of a new family in a small town.

the day you were born, part 1, the night before

In other words, your birth story.  I write this because when you are bad, I plan on making you go to your room and copy this 5 times, because I never want to forget how much pain it was and also because it was a miracle and the coolest thing I have ever done next to meeting your dad. Cooler than hiking the great wall of China, directing a parade full of hippies, wearing a flame retardant suit and playing with a fire as tall as a 8 story building, cooler then slumming it through Europe and cooler then buying a house- way cooler.

I would say labor began for me, walking on the John Wayne Trail by our house. It was me and the dogs and you on the inside of course. And I was over it. For days now, I had been trying everything I could to induce labor. As according to one camp (the ultrasound and my midwife) you were due on the 11th and according to another camp (the last day of my menstrual period and my previous doctor) you were due on the 18th. This day, on the trail was the 17th and according to me, you were done! To ensure that we didn’t have to induce your labor artificially with pitocin and then quite likely end up with an unnatural birth, I had tried a number of things including 5 star thai food, sex, masturbation  (now, I bet you are already wishing you would have just done what I told you to!), walking, bouncing and most recently, acupuncture.  But I was feeling down on the trail maybe it was a case of the watched pot never boils and the anxiety of waiting had gotten to me, or maybe I was just plain scared of what had happened to my life and what was going to happen.  So I sat down in the middle of the trail and I cried, you could say sobbed. It was cool and slightly over cast and I leaned against a small hill and I wished for it to be over, for it to go well and for things to work out.  Luckily for me, I spotted some horses down the way and out of embarrassment, picked myself up, called the dogs and got moving.

I was grateful that night when some friends invited your dad out. We had run out of things to talk about, you were all we could think about, and we were over it, or I was.  Weeks now of calling him and your gramma to get “Is it time?” Weeks of waiting for my next cocktail, weeks of waiting for my new life to begin was wearing on me. Yes, go, get out of here, get drunk, get stoned! I thought maybe this would help me go into labor. That’s how desperate I was.  I settled in to watch some movies once your dad left, something scary I hoped would work.  I did feel some menstrual  cramps, but that was nothing new, little cramps had been coming and going for weeks. What I was hoping for was a pattern. Specifically 5-1-1. Contractions that lasted 5 minutes and were one hour apart. I already forgot what the other one was for.  Eventually, I did start feeling a rhythm and they were getting quite uncomfortable. So I texted your father, not wanting to alert him and called Judi, our doula.  She was not surprised to hear from me, I wasn’t the only one waiting. She was in bed and suggested I get some rest myself and try to rest between contractions.  I was secretly hoping she would say, get your bag ready, I’ll be right over. Instead, she said to call her if things started to get really uncomfortable but to focus on resting.  How did she know I wasn’t about to pop? I guess that;s why we hired her. To keep us in line. To keep me in line. Unfortunately rest was not an option. Your father came home at the tail end of my conversation with Judi and looked at me with that look. He was stoned. My plan had worked. I was sure  you would be born soon.  But when exactly?  Well, the next 8 hours, I forced your dad to stay awake as we timed the contractions.  A funny note is that although we each had timers on our phones, we could not manage to figure them out, but luckily for your father who I had delegated the task of timing, there is an iPhone application for such a thing.  Yes, we had to download and application. I still have it on my phone for giggles. Eventually, once Judi showed up, she told your dad to put it away.  This is what we did, timed the contractions, pretended to be able to get some sleep and waited for something to happen. Somewhere around 6:30am, I had finally decided the contractions were close enough and intense enough (although intense would come later) to call Judi again and to call Gramma Swann to begin her four hour drive back over.  She had already been here see, for your other due date, the one on the 11th.

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One Response

  1. Gramma Swann says:

    Love the update – haven’t been able to contact you today so it was a nice fix – in fact I’m going to read it again!

    xoxoxo

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