The Birth

This post was started 2 months ago… you may or may not be able to understand the delay, based on whether or not you’ve had a newborn as a roommate 😉

**Warning**  Don’t continue this if you don’t want to go into details about child birth

Baby Tacos was due May 12th.  As mentioned in my previous post, my new health insurance kicked in May 1st, so it was a tedious balance of wishing, hoping and squatting him into existence in the outside world as soon as possible, but also knowing, for the sake of our wallets, he really should hang in there til May 1st.  Having babies in hospitals is apparently an expensive activity.

It was April 30th… I had a doctor appointment in the morning which Ginge joined me for because it was our final ultrasound with a growth scan.  All appeared to be good, Tacos seemed to be slightly under 8 lbs, and while the doctor’s hand was somewhere no one could see, she asked, “Would you like me to strip your membranes?”  Without having real time to ask questions, or discuss this option, I just said “Sure,” and her hand, which didn’t yet come out to see the light of day, did something that felt like a roto rooter, if I were to guess what a roto rooter felt like.

After she was done with this, and her hand emerged, I asked, “So… what does this mean?” “Sweetie, we don’t know.  You could have a baby later today, or you could have a baby in 3 weeks.   We will see!”  And just like that she took off.

I told my sister-in-law.  “OMG Court.  You’re going to have a baby, like SOON.”  As previously mentioned it was April 30th.  I’m sitting in the car on the way home with Ginge and he says, “Why did you let her do that?!?  This baby better not fucking come today!”

“I don’t know!  She didn’t give me time to think about it!”

I went to bed that night thinking… WE MADE IT.  The clock struck May 1st, and two hours later my water broke.  I didn’t actually believe it at first.  So I waited a while while Ginge was sleeping and I was timing contractions.  They were 5-6 minutes apart, and yes, my water was definitely broken.  And re-broken, and continuously just broken.  I woke Ginge who had been working in the garage all night and had probably been sleeping for about an hour.  “Ummmm so I think we need to go to the hospital.”

“Wait really?  Like now?”

“Yeah.  Did you pack your bag?”


So Ginge packed a bag, which he had not done yet, because he didn’t believe me when I said the baby was going to come on May 1st.  Ollie’s bag was already packed and in the car, because he is responsible like that, so within about 30 minutes we were on our way to my sister’s house to drop Ollie.  It was about 3:30am and I texted her, expressing  that I hoped she and her roommates continued to be irresponsible and left their door unlocked when they went to bed, (flash forward, responsibility decided to kick in that night, so we banged on the door for a few minutes).  I waddled my way to her door, begging for paper towels, because… what they don’t tell you is that your water doesn’t just break once… its a continuous water fountain that does not stop… ever.  She grabbed Ollie, gave me a hug and said we would see each other later, and we were on our way.

After we were all checked in, and in a labor and delivery room, the contractions worsened and I started on IV Fentanyl.  Drugs, yeah, I was not against them.  Judge away.  My birth plan was “everyone stays alive.”  All the drugs were included in that plan.  It wasn’t long until that wasn’t working anymore and I told Ginge to ask the nurse for more.  This is when he made his first and biggest mistake any man in any labor and delivery room could ever make.  He had an opinion.  About my drugs.

“Maybe you should wait a bit longer.”

He immediately regretted this decision.  I saw the words recoiling from his face.  He got a nurse, I started crying, and got my last dose of Fentanyl until the anestesiologist was called and my Epidural was administered (as I requested…read: demanded).  As they stuck the needle in my back, I said “That actually feels good.”  A needle in my back felt GOOD compared to what was going on in my insides.  And just like that… relief.  I was told to take a nap, because we were pretty far off still, and only 3 cms dilated.  WHO COULD NAP AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!

Over the next 20ish hours, as my OB came in and checked every few hours, her advice was “Rest up, we are going to need all of your energy later.”

Baby Tacos was stubborn.  Pitocin was administered to increase the frequency and intensity of the contractions and move him down into place.  This continued for quite a while, until we were told he was “sunny side up,” meaning his head was facing the wrong direction which was going to make delivery much more difficult.  Still, we tried.  We had nurses come on and off of duty.  Two amazing nurses came in and talked with me for a while.  They understood I really wanted this baby to come out naturally and got their game faces on.  They explained that they had just gone through a class on different positions they could get me in to try to get the baby into place for delivery and asked if  I was game for that.


My sister was there in the delivery room at this point so the poor thing had to watch my huge pregnant naked ass get on all fours and get shook back and forth with a sheet underneath me, get on each side and do the same… I felt for her… and now understand if she never ever wants to give birth.  She was also there when the nurses had left, and I asked Gingey really nicely to put a new puppy pad underneath me because mine was completely soaked again, and that feeling was probably worse than the contractions themselves.  She watched as he PUT ON MEDICAL GLOVES and not only changed my puppy pad, but without asking, WIPED MY ASS…  This was a new low, people.  A new low.  And he did it with a smile.  And with me hysterical laughing.

Rissy stayed until my doc came back in for a last time around 12:30am, checked me, and told me at this point, with all of the meds that had been pumping through my IV, being on antibiotics for so long, and the fact that my stubborn child was STILL only 5cm dilated, she had no choice but to perform a C-Section.  I knew this was a possibility at this point, so I kept it together, and I asked my sister to please go home and get her ass to bed.  We waited in the room for a bit, as the nurses explained the delay was due to “a complication” in the current C-Section.  I asked what it was, but she said she couldn’t tell me.  I then lay there and cried.  I cried because I so wanted to be able to get this baby out on my own.  I cried because I had been awake for over 24 hours.  I cried because this isn’t what I planned.  But then again, my birth plan was ALWAYS “everyone stays alive.”  My friend Emitch told me years ago that was her birth plan, and I held onto it.  As long as everyone stays alive, we are all good.

They provided a scrub jumpsuit (I don’t know what that thing is actually called) for Gingey.  He put it on and looked so adorable, I’m pretty sure I made him pose for photos.  They then finally came in to get me for surgery and wheeled me out of the delivery room. Gingey followed, but they made him wait in a separate room while they prepped me in the OR.  I was shaking.  Like uncontrollably shaking.  I don’t know if it was just the meds, or my nerves or a combo, but I asked the (uncharacteristically young) anesthesiologist to pump some anti-anxiety meds in my IV.  His response was “I could do that, but you may lose your memory for an hour.”  I was like, ummm nevermind.

They seemed almost ready to go, and 1.  I could still feel things on my body (NO!) and 2. Gingey wasn’t there yet (HELL NO!)… I kept yelling “I can still feel everything!!!”  In which my doctor responded, “Can you feel THIS?”

“I don’t know!  What are you doing?”

“I’m pinching your stomach as hard as I possibly can.”

“Fine, no, I can’t feel that.”

My doctor’s medical student who had been shadowing her in her office for the past couple of weeks during my bi-weekly visits, was standing next to my head holding my hand, asking if I was ok, and having more bedside manner than I had ever experienced from any doctor.  It seemed as if they were to begin… I heard a lot of commands being thrown around, and still no Gingey.  I was freakin’ scared!  I hear my doctor say “where’s daddy?? Is daddy in here yet?”  And from behind a screen, I screamed “NO! HE’S NOT!”

Enter Gingey.

They started the procedure.  If anyone tells you they can’t feel anything during a C-Section, they’re either under general anesthesia or THEY’RE LYING!  I was laying there staring just at Gingey’s face and I kept saying “I can feel it… I CAN FEEEEEEELLLLLL IT” over and over again… and he kept repeating for AT LEAST TEN MINUTES “It’s not pain, it’s just pressure, it’s not pain, its just pressure.” (Like HE knew?!) I kept trying to believe him, while feeling like an alligator was being wrestled from my insides (thanks to my friend Amy who gave me that comparison at a later time)…. until what seemed like 4 hours later I HEARD A FUCKING BABY CRY!!!!!

I heard my doctor exclaim:  “Daddy, he’s here take a look!”

Gingey stood up over the curtain to look at him for the first time, and just started crying.  Like bawling crying and saying, “He’s so beautiful!”  I immediately started crying too.  I couldn’t see him.  All I could do was look at his father’s face, with tears streaming down it…and repeating “he’s so beautiful.”

The NICU team was standing by because they knew our baby had been diagnosed at 18 weeks, and re-diagnosed at 22 weeks with a cleft lip and a cleft palate.  I knew they would be there, and was relieved for the backup.  They explained to us beforehand that if there were any breathing complications that sometimes come with cleft babies, he would be whisked away to the NICU.  I heard that first baby cry out of his mouth and felt relief… “he’s ok… he s alive!”

I kept saying “Is he ok?? Is he ok??”  I couldn’t see anything .  After he was wrestled from my insides they passed him to the NICU team and I heard them say “Daddy, you can come over here.”  I was like “Go, Gingey, GO!”

I kept repeating “Is he ok?” and heard from a NICU nurse, “Come on baby, come on”  Trying to get him to breathe properly…. then, “Good boy, good boy!” …Then the words I will never ever forget…”His palate is intact.”

Wait… WHAT????   Is this a f*ckin’ DREAM???  In NO way did I ever dream he would not have a cleft palate.  Not one part of my being thought this was an option.  I lay there yelling over and over “ARE YOU SUREEEEEEE???”

“Yes we are sure!!!!”

I heard Gingey “Babe he is SO BEAUTIFUL!  His lip is so fine too!”

I could not believe it.  The fact that his palate was intact was the greatest surprise of my entire life.  This removed so many of the worries I had over the past 6 months… he will be able to eat??? He won’t need extra surgeries and have speech problems??? WHAATTTTT????? I never could have asked for a greater gift and it honestly took me so long to comprehend.

I was taken to another room after being stitched up.  Gingey and baby were together, and I still hadn’t seen him yet.  I was sooo anxious.  About 20 minutes later they brought my little boy to me… they laid him on my chest, and his eyes were open so wide as he stared at me.  Gingey was crying again and just kept saying “he loves you so much.”  My heart was bursting.

All of the months of worries and fears were over.  I had my healthy little (8lb 21 inch, 2 week early) baby on my chest and he was staring into my eyes and I was so so so eternally grateful. He was a healthy little beautiful baby and our lives were forever changed.

We have a road ahead of us, but it’s soooo much easier than what I anticipated.  He has an incomplete unilateral cleft lip (no palate or gum involvement), and it makes him who he his. He is the most gorgeous, amazing little being I could ever be handed.  He has been the greatest gift I ever could have imagined.  Ohhhhhh he’s been giving us a run for our money, that’s for sure… but that’s for later posts.

Here I am, a freakin’ MOM… can you even believe it?  Trace Nicholas, you’re in for a ride.  And so are we!!!


Gossip Girl

3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Marty
    Jul 18, 2018 @ 04:38:28

    First cup of coffee for me and I am crying. Joy tears dripping down my face. My throat feels choked……with overwhelming love!

    Liked by 2 people


  2. blahblahblahblah128
    Jul 18, 2018 @ 12:07:53

    Geez, for all the details you could have shown us a video tape. hahaha! Sweet finale! I love that Ollie is “responsible like that”. Welcome Beautiful Trace Nicholas! Congratulations Mom and Dad… looking forward to the coming ride.

    Liked by 1 person


  3. Taylor
    Jul 18, 2018 @ 17:33:40

    Love this so so much! I’ll need you to write this for me someday. The absolute sweetest. ❤

    Liked by 1 person


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