tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-829478402654347779.post-30114382256034319312008-06-23T10:52:00.011-05:002008-06-23T11:27:00.094-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_OMS7GKFI/AAAAAAAABao/A_SxblonC8o/s1600-h/MDS+girl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_OMS7GKFI/AAAAAAAABao/A_SxblonC8o/s400/MDS+girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215113604151781458" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Julie from <a href="http://www.evolvingmom.com/">Evolving Mom</a></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">was gracious enough to share her story with us today, along with the most adorable pictures of her daughter, Aly. Be sure to check out her blog to read along as she journeys to total health and "evolution"!<br /><br /></span><a href="http://www.evolvingmom.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></a><br />All of the thought and preparation in the world could not have prepared me for what I now consider one of the hardest yet, most incredible days of my life. 22 hours to be exact. <div> </div> <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_Kc0qtG3I/AAAAAAAABaQ/xeVyWZ8ZiSo/s1600-h/IMG_3165.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_Kc0qtG3I/AAAAAAAABaQ/xeVyWZ8ZiSo/s320/IMG_3165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215109490041232242" border="0" /></a>My sweet daughter <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Aly</span> came exactly one week early with the traditional breaking of my water. I was officially on my third day of maternity leave from work and Hubby and I had spent all day away from home trying to get his car fixed (long story I won't bore you with). It was a Wednesday and this car thing <em>had</em> to be dealt with. So once we finally got back home that night, we were both exhausted. Me even more so being that I was <strong>39 weeks pregnant</strong> and not doing all that relaxing I had planned to do before the baby arrived! But I digress.</div> <div> </div> <div><br />Towards the end of the night, Hubby was on his way downstairs to do some work on the computer and I was heading into bed to read. We were standing on the stairs talking (me at the top and him at the bottom) when GUSH! <em>My water broke! Wait, did it? Surely that was my "water" breaking! I don't think I had to pee... no, there's too much stuff coming out!</em> "Hubby? I think my water just broke?!" And we both just stood there grinning before lapsing into a nervous attempt to prepare everything and head off to the hospital.</div> <div> </div> <div><br />We made it to the hospital around 11:00 pm that evening. I will spare you the "wet" details but let's just say that I was leaking like a mother, going through pad after pad after pad and soaking everything that had the misfortune of being sat on by me that night. So at the hospital they admitted me right away because my water had already broken and advised me that because I was only dilated about 1 cm, to go ahead and try to get some sleep that night.</div> <div> </div> <div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><br /></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Uhhhhh</span>. Your water breaks with your first baby ever, the moment you have dreamed about your entire life is finally about to happen, and they tell you to try and get some <strong>SLEEP</strong>?! So I "tried" but really just laid there in the dark, nervous and giddy with excitement.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div><br />Sometime early that next morning, I began to feel my contractions getting stronger so I advised the nurse that I was ready for my epidural. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">epi</span> team was sent in and I was given the epidural. At the time, I did not know this but apparently when you get an epidural, it is NOT normal for you to feel little shooting pains and sensations throughout your back. Again, I thought it must have been normal so I didn't mention it at the time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_Ksji8fhI/AAAAAAAABaY/yG_BngppmCI/s1600-h/Hello+World%21.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_Ksji8fhI/AAAAAAAABaY/yG_BngppmCI/s320/Hello+World%21.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215109760323190290" border="0" /></a>Little progress was being made with my contractions for dilation so the Doc opted to give me <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Petocin</span> to speed up the process. Slowly the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Petocin</span> made my contractions stronger and stronger. <em>Wait, am I supposed to be feeling this pain?</em> And before I knew it, I was feeling every single ounce of those contractions but just on one side of my body! It was the craziest, yet the <em>most disturbingly painful thing I had ever</em> <em>felt!</em> I kept telling the nurses that I could feel everything and they kept juicing up the epidural higher and higher until they reached the limit. And I was still feeling everything. <strong>Honestly folks, that afternoon is a blur of pain and tears for me.</strong> One cool thing is that the nurses named me "Trooper" because throughout all of my pain, I never freaked out, I just gritted my teeth and held on as best as I could. And the awesome thing was that throughout the ordeal, my daughter's heart rate stayed steady and she was strong right along with me.</div> <div> </div> <div><br />So by around 5:00pm that day, I was dilated to around 8cm, in the most pain I've ever experienced in my life, and the doctors finally realized that my stupid epidural got screwed up. So they decided to do another one!!! So with crazy painful contractions coming very quickly, they heaved me over and did another epidural. The relief was temporary and for some reason the pain came back. At that point, I was too exhausted to care. I just wanted to get it over with. </div> <div> </div> <div>Then I started throwing up. One, twice, three times... Ugh. My poor Hubby was there for me but he felt so helpless. My entire family of in-laws were in the waiting room (for approaching 20 hours). And I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">friggin</span> throwing up. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Naaaaaasty</span>.</div> <div> </div> <div><br />Finally, <em>finally</em>, my wonderful doctor comes in and says it's time to start pushing! <em>Oh Thank God!</em> So I had a drill <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">sergeant</span> of a nurse holding my left leg, Hubby holding my right, and the awesome Dr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Pickler</span> doing the catching. I think I pushed (and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">OMG</span> I was so tired and in SO much pain!) for about 20-30 minutes before my football of a baby shot out of me! No seriously, she literally shot out like a cannon ball!! Doc literally had to <em>catch</em> her and she exclaimed <em>"Whoa!!"</em> as she did!</div> <div> </div> <div><br />In a daze, I asked Hubby, <em>is she okay?</em> and he said <em>yes, she's fine.</em> And 22 hours later, I was holding my perfectly bundled, absolutely gorgeous, worth every second of everything I ever went through, sweet baby girl, <em>my Alyson</em>. She was and still is, our dream come true. She weighed 8 pounds, 1 ounce and was 19 inches long. She had light brown hair and big, beautiful blue eyes. God blessed us with an amazing child and my heart brims with joy and contentment every time I think about it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_J8nWok5I/AAAAAAAABaI/HnXrsSG8PdU/s1600-h/climbing+slide.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_PfQgUJY-x0U/SF_J8nWok5I/AAAAAAAABaI/HnXrsSG8PdU/s320/climbing+slide.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215108936711574418" border="0" /></a> </div> <div> </div> <div><br />My birth story is long. It's painful. And it's beautiful. Thanks for letting me share it with you. And now I'm exhausted after re-living it!</div>Jojohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09769253823997260519noreply@blogger.com