Birthing My Butterball

I call my youngest child my "turkey baby." He was born on Thanksgiving weekend and his birthday falls on the big day this year. He was a big boy, just like the girls, weighing in at just under 9 pounds. And that was with being born 3 weeks early.

His birth day began in similar fashion to the girls - my water broke at home. This time, it broke at about 6:30 am. I was awake and eating a couple of donuts, as luck would have it. I say that because when you get to the hospital, they always ask what was the last thing you had to eat. And I always had to admit to it being some sort of junk food (I distinctly remember having to say "cupcakes" the first time around).

I remember pulling out of the driveway, with my two little girls and my father-in-law standing at the window, waving goodbye. When we arrived at the hospital, the check-in area was packed with expectant moms. I was taken up to the labor and delivery floor, but no rooms were available at the inn! I was then wheeled down the hallway to the regular rooms, where we sat for hours, waiting for my contractions to start kicking in. It was noon and I was only dilated 2 cm. Nurses were running around saying something about all the thiamine in the turkey making everyone go into labor. That is something I'd never heard of before or since.

Did I mention these were not private rooms? Two beds, with a curtain in the middle. Another couple was brought in, the soon-to-be mother also not progressing. They were a really young couple and it was obvious, they were both first-timers. They were on that hospital phone (before the era of cell phones), calling every person they knew. My contractions started coming along around 2:00 pm, but still, no dilation (same as the other births). I was feeling chipper, except for the fact that there were still no birthing rooms available. My regular doctor was out of town, due to the holiday weekend, so another ob/gyn in the practice stopped in to check on me. He then decided I needed some Pitocin, to "speed things up." I said, "If you give me that, this baby is going to come hard and it's going to come fast." Apparently, he didn't believe me, because he left the building. That was the last I'd see of him until I was being sewn back up!

Sure enough, my contractions got strong and hard and I went from 3 cm to 10 cm in a short amount of time. The nurses began panicking, phoning the doctor, who had gone home, presumably to eat more turkey. They then began calling all over the hospital, searching for any available ob/gyn, while telling me not to push (I ignored them). Finally, they found a nurse midwife in the parking garage and she came running up as I was pushing my son out. I pushed for less than 10 minutes. It was the easiest birth in my mind because the pushing went so fast. I don't even remember it being all that painful, except for the quick transition. Unfortunately, without the episiotomy, it was a rough tear, so it took them a while to sew me up. I remember complaining about that the most, asking Mr. I Went Home how much longer it was going to take down there.

The part of the story that is missing here is the other couple.........they were in the room the entire time! Can you imagine having to listen to another woman giving birth behind a curtain a few feet from your bed? And then listening to her commentary on the sew up job afterwards? Once I was settled and my husband had left the room to take our son down to the nursery, the poor husband of the woman next to me had to walk over to my side of the room to get his wife's suitcase out of the closet. He appeared to be a bit scared of me, because he wouldn't even glance in my direction. They hightailed it out of there and I'm guessing she finally was able to have her baby in the privacy of a personal birthing suite. A luxury I missed out on that time.

The best part of this birth story was the unspeakable joy I felt when my son was born. We had never wanted to know ahead of time the sex of our babies. It's such a great feeling to me to go through all that blood, sweat and tears and get the gift of life, not knowing whether it was going to be a son or daughter. And after having two girls, and also knowing that this was probably our last baby, I was delirious with happiness when I got my son. He is truly the sweetest boy in the world, even at the ripe old age of 14 now. He still lets his mom hug and kiss him every morning before he walks out the door. I know that's probably not going to last much longer, but I'm enjoying it while I can.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. May God bless you and your loved ones.