Bennett's Birth Story

To Bennett.

I have always wanted to be a mom. There’s no question about that. Since the time I was a little kid, I loved babies. Then during high school and college years, I volunteered at the Children’s Hospital and at Roosevelt High School. I’ve always loved kids and I always knew I wanted my own, but the question was when.

Your dad and I were more nervous when we found out you were on the way, than we were excited. We couldn’t believe it was happening! A baby, a baby… that changes things.  We needed to remodel our house, would we be done traveling? So many things were going to change.  Yes, we were excited that you were coming into our lives, but things were going to change and what did we know about being parents? How often would you eat? When did you sleep? So many questions and worries went through our minds, but you were on the way.

The day you were born was easily one of the best days of my life. I know most, if not all, parents say this, and I always thought it was pretty cliché, but it is true. It’s not something you can understand until you become a parent and get to enjoy the day with a partner you really care about. See, it isn’t just merely becoming a parent, although I am sure single parents would disagree, but for me, it was getting to do it with your dad too. We have had so many adventures together and this was just another one.

It all started around 2:45 am on February 21st. Actually it probably started the evening before. I was having a lot of stomach aches and going to the bathroom a lot. I naturally assumed it was because I ate bad food, but looking back on it I should have known it was the body’s way of getting rid of things to prepare for your arrival. (I might have recognized this had I read any child-prep books…) So anyways, at 2:45 am, I woke up feeling like I needed to pee. You usually woke me up around 3 am with a nice punch to the bladder, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary. I kind of felt weird and the second I got out of bed, whoosh, my water broke all over the floor. I remember pausing for a second, thinking, Did I just pee or did my water break? I went to the bathroom and sure enough, I knew my life was going to change shortly. I went back to the bedroom and wiped up the mess on the floor before waking up your dad.

“Joel?,” I said softly.  “Joel?”

“Hmm,” came a mumbled reply.

“Joel?” I asked again, a little louder.

“What,” was the reply, more of a statement, less of a question.

“Joel? I think my water just broke.”

“WHAT?!” he said, bolting up in bed.

“Umm, my water just broke?”

“WHAT?!” he asked franticly, getting out of bed.

“My water broke. I wiped it up though, so we should probably pack bags to go to the hospital.”

I was not having any contractions at this point, so I was pretty calm and started thinking of all the things I’d want to have with me at the hospital. Your dad, on the other hand, was just a touch under hysterical. He was grabbing things to pack for the hospital and had a two foot high pile of clothing. I kindly reminded him that we’d only be gone for two days, but he had a wild look in his eyes, and I doubt he was registering what I was saying. At some time during my pregnancy your Grandma Deb mentioned I’d probably have to drive myself to the hospital, knowing how your dad is… she wasn’t kidding…

As I was packing, grabbing the laptop and cameras, making sure I had power cords, I look over at your dad and see him shoving all this things into plastic Target bags. No, I was not going to let us walk into the hospital with overflowing plastic bags like a bunch of bag ladies, so I told your dad that I would pack his things and he could do something else.

Like your dad, I knew your grandma would react just as hysterically, so I told your dad that we wouldn’t wake her until we were basically ready to walk out the door. When we were about 80% packed, I decided to wake up your grandma. I knocked on her door softly.  No answer. Knocked again and opened it a bit.

“Mom?... Mom?” I softly called a few times.

Like your dad, a muffled, “Hm,” was the reply.

“Mom? My water broke?”

“WHAT?” she exclaimed as she bolts up in bed, with wide eyes and disheveled hair.

“My water  broke, but I’m not having contractions. Don’t worry. We’re almost done packing, and will be heading to the hospital soon… so I just wanted to let you know…”

Your grandpa rolled over in bed and asked what was happening. “Vanessa’s water broke!” your grandma tells him. Then he turns over and goes back to sleep.

So when we’re about finished packing, your dad remembered he needed to call the hospital. When I was pregnant, our doctor gave us a card with a number to the hospital and instructions to call when contractions were 3-5 minutes apart. Your dad’s side of the conversation went something like this, “Uh… hi. Uh, my wife is pregnant, her water broke and this card says to call when her contractions are 3-5 minutes apart and they are 3-5 minutes apart!... Well, the doctor gave us a card and it says to all when her contractions are 3-5 minutes apart, so do we come in?... They want to talk to you,” and handed the phone to me.

Once we entered the hospital, the guard at the door asked, “Labor and Delivery?” We said yes and he pointed us in the right direction. I remember joking with your dad about how many people he sees like us, waltzing in, laughing, with a touch of deer-in-headlights-look in their eyes. But I felt great! No pain, anxious to be there, moderately numb and feeling an out-of-body experience because, I couldn’t believe what was about to happen. Pregnancy was a long, often frustrating journey and I was excited to be done, but having a baby is one of those things where you see it a hundred times in movies, talk to people who have done it, read about it, and when the time comes it’s like, you have no idea what to expect. There are so few things that happen in life, that are defined by one moment, where you get one first try at the unknown and after it’s done, that is it. You can take hundreds of trips and they’re all different and exciting… but travelling is travelling. The first time you buy a house is scary and exciting, but ultimately, it’s just a house, just money. As a mother, nothing really compares to knowing that this baby has been in you for month and you have some kind of bond with him and know him… but have never met him… and soon you get to meet this person.

I was admitted to the hospital at 4:15. We were in good spirits and once the nurse confirmed my water had broken (obviously we knew this was the case) and confirmed that we wouldn’t be leaving the hospital without a baby, we sent out the emails to work saying we were going to be out for a while. That was a great feeling because finally, that part of our life was over for a while. We really were unsure what we were supposed to be doing in the triage room. I asked your dad to take a picture of me, showing the last time I would be seen pregnant (it’s a terrible picture) and by 5, I was moved into the labor and delivery room and they started giving me Pitocin.

By 8 am, I was at 5 centimeters and things weren’t fun. Prior, I could at least talk between contractions and eat Lucky Charms, but the fun was long gone and pain was setting in. Your dad was lovingly rubbing my lower back, but it felt like he was bruising my spine. I tried sitting on a ball, but could only tolerate it for a few minutes before crawling into bed. I was in such a zone and quite frankly, don’t remember much. I remember just laying with my eyes closed, in agony. Sometimes I tried to stretch out, hoping it’d lessen the contraction, like a cramping muscle, but to no avail. Your dad would tell me when the big contractions were coming on, which was the most helpful thing. The nurse kept offering pain meds, but I was determined to go without.

By 10 am, I was at 9 centimeters and in so much pain. The nurse again offered pain meds, and I remember asking how soon until I would get to 10 centimeters. I remember the look of sorrow on her face when she told me it takes some women an hour to dilate a centimeter. How could I last another hour? But I knew I was close to the end, and I had gone this far without anything to take the pain away, so I’d give it a bit longer. She did tell me that my doctor was in surgery but the on-call doctor was notified and well aware of how I was doing.

A little bit after, I had a strong sensation to poop. Now, pooping on a table was my biggest fear going into the whole pregnancy/labor journey (followed closely by water breaking at Target or work). I COULD NOT POOP ON THE TABLE. I kept telling your dad, “I really have to poop but I just don’t want to” and I think he told me that if I have to go, I have to go. I also think he asked me if I could make it to the bathroom and I said no, so he called the nurse. When she came in, he told her I needed to go, and her eyes got big and asked again, what we needed. Your dad started explaining, “She said she has to go poop, but her biggest fear is going poop on the table, so she doesn’t want to go but she doesn’t think she can walk to the bathroom…” and she said she needed to check my progress. It was now 10:25 and she let me know that I was 10 centimeters, ran to the doorway and yelled down the hall, “Tell him to get here RIGHT NOW.”

All the time we had spent in the hospital, up to this point, was kind of a blur. I am pretty sure I was awake for all of it, but with everything my body was going through, my mind had shut off everything to the outside world. I remember bits and pieces, like when the nurse told me the doctor was in scrubs so as soon as he arrived he’d come straight to the room because he didn’t need to change, but while every second of pain felt like minutes, the hours of pain seemed to fly by in minutes. And the pain is truly some of the worst pain I’d ever experienced, but it’s so hard to remember exactly what it was like, because that trance-like state I was in really muddled things. But now, things were getting serious and it’s like my brain woke up, because I remember every minute I had to wait for the doctor to arrive, so that I could push and be done. Man, was it tough! Our nurse was great and started having me do Lamaze breathing, to try to hold off the pushing. Surprisingly, it helped because all the “HE HE WHOOOOO” breathing helped occupy my mind. I did feel pretty stupid doing it though, so when the nurse had to leave the room, I told your dad to do it out loud with me. We are so lucky to have your dad, because him doing the breathing with me, kept me so grounded.

At 10:45, the doctor arrived. (Did I mention it was now snowing heavily and traffic was backed up horribly?) He came to the bedside, introduced himself and I weakly said to him, “Hi. I’m kind of mad at you for taking so long to get here” because working against my body, trying not to push, was so incredibly hard. So he got right to work and man, DID IT HURT. I honestly dreaded every push, because that damn perineal massage HURT SO BAD. It really wasn’t the pushing that hurt, it was that stupid massage the doctor kept doing, this was by far the worst pain ever. Like when someone twists your skin to give you a snake bite, times 100. It’s that kind of pain that feels white hot and makes your mouth go dry. Over and over. Again and again. Now I am wide awake and cognitive of everything going on. Every second of pain feels like hours. One time, during the pushing, the nurse commanded, “GET MAD,” which was amazing.

11:00, you were born. As you were coming out, they were saying, “Vanessa, look down,” so that I could see. Honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. I was tired and I wanted the pain to end. I just wanted you out, so that I could relax. I remember thinking, “Who the eff cares?... better look down because they want me to…” but I’m pretty sure I missed all of it because the next thing I know, they’re setting you on my chest.

Now this right here, is the best moment of my life. It was truly like a movie. I don’t remember hearing anything. I don’t know if you were crying. I don’t know if they said you were a boy, or anything that was going on, because when they set you on me, it was like a slow motion movie moment. I looked down at you and said something like, “Hi,” or “Hey there,” and your eyes snapped to mine. In that instant, I could almost hear you say, “So you’re the person I’ve been hearing.” I can’t think about this moment without getting tears in my eyes (I’m crying as I write this now) but it was extraordinary. I never really understood the instant bond people talk about between mothers and their babies. But this moment right now, it’s just beyond anything I could’ve imagined. It was all worth it, Bennett. The nine months of pregnancy, constantly growing bigger, having to horrifyingly look at the scale each week. Going pee multiple times a night and never being able to find a comfortable position because I couldn’t lay on my stomach. Dealing with your nonstop hiccups and punches to the bladder. And even the hours of pain I endured, it was all worth it, because in that moment I knew you knew me and I learned how deeply I could love.

Soon after they took you to clean you up as I was going through all the after birth things. But really, it was all such a blur. I remember I started shaking uncontrollably, which is normal. I remember telling your dad to take pictures, because he was just so overwhelmed/shocked/excited that he wasn’t sure what to do. At some point I had to get up to go to the bathroom, which I was nervous about, but wasn’t too bad. I also ordered lunch and got a chocolate chip cookie and chocolate cake. My choice of two desserts made our nurse comment that I was a girl after her own heart. I look at the pictures taken during this time and I barely remember a thing. This time, there was just so many emotions going on, so much excitement and adrenaline, that I don’t remember anything, I just know I was happy.

You were clearly smart from the get-go. Everyone commented on your amazing neck strength. You were so curious, alert, and completely aware of the world around you. You’d turn your head to look at every little sound. You kept making eye contact with everyone. I remember your grandma saying how you acted much older than a baby hours old. (Must’ve been all that sushi I ate.) You had a lot of hair, which surprised your dad and me. We were both pretty bald at the start, but not you. You didn’t look like one of those gross babies either, all puffy and red, after birth. You were more wonderful than we could’ve imagined.

And this, buddy, is how your story began.