Birth Story: D.J. Mama Part TWO

Ah, an epidural. While I was never against getting an epidural I also never loved the idea. However, when you’re in labor EVERYTHING you thought you knew about your wants, needs, and wishes, goes right out the window. I knew that typically it takes over an hour to get an anesthesiologist so I decided it was time – if this was how it was gonna be for hours I wasn’t gonna make it, I turned to my nurse and told her to get me an epidural stat cause “I don’t need to be a hero”. This was about survival. She complied and I started mentally preparing myself to have a needle the size of a turkey baster stuck into my spine. I had an hour or two to wrap my mind around it tho, or so I thought…

15 mins. 15 mins from me asking till I was told “your in luck, the anesthesiologist is already on the floor”. My brain glitched and ya girl BROKE DOWN. I can’t even pretend like I was okay, I started bawling, I was terrified, I thought I would have more time to adjust to the decision I had made but instead I would be turkey basted immediately and I freaked out. As if that wasn’t enough, the anesthesiologist walked in at that exact moment. In that moment I felt a conflicting sense of calm and terror. My anesthesiologist came up to me and introduced herself. She was a woman, a black woman, with dreads and she made me feel heard, understood, seen even. She didn’t brush off my fear but rather confronted them and assured me that she would be my teammate, that we were facing the fear and pain together, that she would do everything in her power to make this as easy as possible. I cannot express how comforting her encouragement was and we got started. Damien held my hand, my nurse rubbed my shoulders, I rounded my back and the anesthesiologist walked me thru every touch, we were ready. She told me she would give me smaller shot, like a bee sting, then would place the catheter tube into my spine for my epidural. Small shot in 3..2…1…OUCH. That one was definitely uncomfortable but I was so focused on the pain to follow I barely noticed it. Now the turkey baster, she put a little pressure on my spine, talked me thru the pressure and BOOM…it was over. I was a little confused. I had worked myself up so much that I hadn’t even felt it. Again, RELIEF.

After the epidural, ya girl was living her best life. I was numb just enough to not feel the contractions but not so much that I couldn’t move. It was the perfect sweet spot. The nurse checked me again and informed me I had progressed to a 7, they decided to break my water, and let me know I should be ready in the next couple hours to push so I should rest as much as possible. It was around 1:30 am, Damien dosed off and I tried to get comfortable, it was quiet. Not even 20 mins later, my monitors began to beep rapidly, my nurse rushed in, she yelled something and before I knew it my room was flooded with people yelling things. Babies heart rate had dropped and wasn’t coming back up. They turned me side to side, nothing was working, finally they made me get on all fours. It took everything I had to turn over, push up, and steady myself. Fighting so hard against the epidural. The beeping stopped, they all started talking again, finally they let me know I could lay back down, He was stable – all was well. They checked my dilation again, 8.5cm. They’d be back soon to start pushing. The room got quiet again, we were finally left alone, our last moments until our son arrived. I decided to write a letter to my unborn son.

The hour between the scare and delivery is a time i will forever cherish. It was beautiful, peaceful, and I really got to sit with my emotions. Savoring everything I felt. As I finished the letter to my first ever baby, the door clicked open. I knew this time was gonna be different. That he was ready, that I was ready. The nurse checked me and confirmed, 10cm…time to push.

While the OB scrubbed up the nurses explained to me the proper techniques for pushing and wanted me to take 3 practice pushes. They got in position to walk me thru it on my next contraction and watched the output sheets to get the timing juuussst right, and PUSH! I did as they had told me and was met with a WHOA WHOA WHOA STOP! I immediately stopped and looked up, the nurse was motioning for the OB to hurry up. Everyone frantic, “SHE DOES NOT NEED TO PRACTICE!” The nurse giggled/shrieked, “Baby has moved into birthing canal and is almost crowning, get over here NOW Doctor!” She looked at me and said well dang, you’re a good pusher. I chuckled and then was overwhelmed by the pressure. I needed to push again, now. The Dr instructed me thru it and again told me to stop. “Damien get over here quick! Brianna I need you to hold it please so we can get dad ready”. You see Damien had asked my Dr. if he could be the one to pull baby out and lay them on me when the time came. My Dr had agreed happily, stating that most dads don’t even want to see whats going on. She thought the sentiment of Damien wanting to deliver his firstborn was sweet. She hadn’t anticipated how fast I would push him out however. I couldn’t stop it, Damien didn’t have time to scrub up, I wasn’t gonna be able to hold it. He ran down to her and made it just in time to help her deliver his son.

A hearty cry. I still don’t know if it was Damien or DJ’s but I remember the intense relief I felt when Damien laid our son on my chest. He was here. I had done it. He was safe, healthy, perfect, and HUGE. I sobbed. He was beautiful and he was mine. My son. I barely remember hearing the Dr, but I felt the pressure again, wasn’t I done? Nope, no one told me that I had to also delivery the placenta. I thought it came out with baby but it takes a few minutes to detach and you have to push again to get it out. I was lucky, it came out without much fuss. I was again relived. They weighed and measured baby while my OB assessed my condition. He was 9 pounds 14 Ounces and 22 inches long. Understandably, I had torn, ouch. It was a minor second degree tear and the OB stitched me as I held my fresh baby. I didn’t even notice. The baby high took over. I was overwhelmed with what I felt for this little boy. My little boy. He had broken me in the most beautiful way. I was never going to recover.

We laid there in baby bliss for what seemed like forver. I hoped it would never end. The nurse tolld me he may be hingry and showed me how to hold him to breastfeed. He latched immeidately and started to eat. I relaxed back and watched my baby.

We had done it.

click here for PART THREE