Even though it has been almost two years already, I can still remember almost every detail of my pregnancy and Cooper's birth.
After my husband John and I had tried for about eight months to conceive, I mentioned to my doctor that we had been trying for that long. He suggested that he do some preliminary blood work. A week later, he called me back and told me that my progesterone level was very low and there was "no way" I was pregnant this month. A week later when I was four days late, I took an hpt, and low and behold--it was positive!
My pregnancy was fairly uneventful. At six weeks, some slight spotting sent me in for an ultrasound and I heard the worst words in my life "threatened abortion." A few days later, I had some more blood work done and everything was fine. Whew! Then came the five months of morning sickness--just for the first two hours of every day!
My due date was April 23, 1997. At the beginning of April, my doctor thought that the baby was getting pretty big so he decided that if I had not delivered by the 25th, he would induce me. But Cooper was a little impatient. On Saturday evening, the 19th, around 11:00 I was on my way home from a friend's house and I felt four mild contractions about 4 minutes apart. Since I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since my seventh month, I thought nothing of it and went home and to bed.
At 2:40, I woke up feeling a trickle, and ran for the bathroom yelling, "Oh, Crap!" which of course woke up my husband. I just made it to the toilet before the big gush of water came. Boy, I couldn't believe how much water there was! I was sitting on the toilet waiting for the water to stop--which by the way it didn't! And my husband was running around trying to get everything together. He was in such a hurry. I think it was about 10 minutes from the time I woke up until he dragged me out the door for a 15 minute ride to the hospital, all the while sitting on a garbage bag and towels and leaking fluid. I was only having mild, irregular contractions.
When I got the hospital, the nurse looked at me and said, "Oh, did your water break?". I asked how could she tell? The cut off sweat pants I was wearing were soaked. Pretty soon I was wearing the beautiful gown they gave me and was in bed with two monitors attached to my belly. The nurse checked me and I was about 4 cm dilated. Since the contractions weren't very strong and were irregular, a phone call to the doctor (at 4:00 a.m.) had me on pitocin. The contractions started coming stronger and closer together--it was all in my back--the only comfortable position was sitting up with my knees up hugging a pillow.
I have a blood condition that would not allow me to have an epidural. I had a shot of Stadol, but that just messed up my concentration and did not relieve any pain. About 8:30 a.m., I was about 6 cm, and I figured my husband needed a break and I called my girlfriend Cindy, who was five months pregnant at the time. She came around 9:15 and my husband went to the couch for a nap. At about 10:30, the nurse checked me again and I was at 10 cm. She decided that it was time to push.
Finally, for the first time, as I was pushing, my doctor came in. I pushed for about 20 minutes and finally at 10:57 a.m., out came Cooper Deville, weighing 8 lbs. 4 oz. And measuring 20 3/4" long, yelling loudly. The nurse wrapped him up and put him on my stomach. Not more than five seconds after that, he peed on me (and toilet training at two--he hasn't stopped!). The nurse cleaned him up and gave him back to me to nurse.
Like I said, Its been almost 2 years now, and I still get goose bumps remembering what that beautiful baby boy looked like when they put him in my arms. Every time I pick my 3 ft. tall and 30 lbs. little boy up and put him to bed, I remember what it felt like when I could hold him in one arm and not have him say "NO!" when I kiss him too much.