Bucky's birth day
January 15, 2006
4:00 AM
Dear Bucky,
My water just broke (and me, all along saying it wouldn't break . . . your Daddy knew better). I guess this means the end of the Bucky show.
I'm not quite ready for you to leave me yet. I was just getting used to this pregnancy thing. I thought I had more time . . . at least two more weeks (guess Ross was correct again on that one as well). I'm going to miss you, and your kicks, and your hiccups, and talking with you.
I don't know if I'm ready to meet you in person . . . to actually be your Mom, not just your "Bucky holder." Are you going to like us? Can we really do this?
But, the doctor just called us back. To the hospital we go . . . I guess today is really the day. Ready or not, here you come . . .
***
5:00 AM
Ross and I arrive at the hospital and get taken to the assessment room. All the tests they do to prove my water broke come up negative, but since my story is "convincing" they decide to bring out the ultrasound equipment and double check.
Nearly all my amniotic fluid is gone, just a little bit left by Bucky's feet . . . baby will be here within 24 hours. I'm confined to bed so as to avoid any infections. Off to the labor and delivery room we go!
"Ross, we're going to have a baby today!"
"I know . . . it's so crazy."
***
8:00 AM
My sister, who just happens to be in town, arrives at the hospital. I've been put on pitocin to get my contractions going and to make sure Bucky arrives within the allotted 24 hr window. I'm very nervous about this since they say contractions are like climbing a mountain, but with pitocin it's like climbing a cliff. Since I haven't been having painful contractions, I figure I won't know the difference in the end . . .
***
Between 10:00 AM and 1:00 PM
Our local friends stop by the room for pre-delivery visits. They bring Ross and Anna food (the kind that doesn't smell so I don't get angry with them for eating since I am no longer allowed food, just ice chips!!!) and we all laughed about how the night before none of us expected THIS!
On the pain chart I was now feeling like a 3 out of 10.
There are too many people in the delivery room, and our friends are all kicked out by the new nurse on call.
***
3:00 PM
We're now at a 6 on the pain chart. Things are progressing nicely, and the doctors will check my in another hour or two.
***
5:00 PM
Holy cow, the contractions are starting to really bear down. The first year resident says it's time to check me out. His assessment is that I've done really well: 8 cm dilated and about 80% effaced, and baby is in minus 1 stage (just above the pelvic bone. The pelvic bone equals 0 stage). Realizing I had yet to receive any drugs at this time he says I need to make a decision soon about getting an epidural. I think to myself, 'the contractions I can handle, but I bet getting a baby out will be worse than that painful exam . . . what to do.' Then the delivering OB comes in to just take a look herself, and it's revealed that I'm ONLY 4cm dilated, but 100% effaced and baby is in plus 2 stage (past the pelvic bone and into the birth canal).
I lose it, thinking that was the cruelest joke to ever play on a woman in labor and have no qualms about deciding I'm getting that epidural---my energy just flew out the window with the truth of the situation.
***
5:30 PM
9! 9! 9! I've hit the cliff wall. Contractions are tremendous. No wonder people never want to do this again.
The anesthesiologist arrives and I can't even pay attention to his "risks involved" speech.
JUST GIVE ME THE SHOT!
Which he does.
Luckily the doctor allows Ross to stay in the room and I hold on to his arm with both hands. Squeezing one hand for contractions, and one hand for the epidural discomfort.
***
6:00 PM
And then a calm. My lower half is numb. I can not control my legs and it's an eye opening experience . . . My mind uses this new situation help comfort me; to remind me that there are people in this world who live more challenging lives than I do, who have a great deal more strength than I do, and that I'm just trying to deliver a baby. It was a strange correlation to make in the midst of things, but it added beauty and serenity to the situation, and humbled me.
***
6:45 to 9:45 PM
It's time to push. My sister and the nurse hold my legs. Ross counts for me through the contractions. We all actually laugh and joke throughout the hours of delivery.
Somewhere along the road "c-section" floats out of the lips of the resident . . . it inspires me to push harder (and the nurse reassures Ross that we're not even close to making that decision).
Towards the end a different decision has to be made, to use a vacuum or see if I can do it on my own. Bucky is face up, making passing his head through the last bit very difficult as it's the hard part of the skull, not the soft spot that is presented on face down babies. I push a few more times and we make the decision to use the vacuum. I'm tiring out, Bucky is kicking me (seriously) and getting a little stressed . . . it's time to receive a little help.
***
9:46 PM
With one last push and a pull with the vacuum, a feeling of relief comes over me . . .
***
9:47 PM
IT'S A BOY!!!!!!!!
Tears all round . . . it's very overwhelming, we're in disbelief . . . we're parents!
They put Baby Boy Swanes to my chest and Ross and I gaze at our newborn son. New Aunt Anna cuts the umbilical cord. . .
"What's his name?"
"We don't know," I cry. . .
***
10:30ish PM
Dear Jackson Henry,
Welcome to the world! We've been waiting for you!
Do you like your name? Besides our love, it's the very first gift we give to you on your birth day.
We can't believe you're here! You're just so beautiful, so perfect. Our hearts are bursting!
You're worth every moment of pregnancy, every push in delivery . . . I'd do it all over again, again and again, just for you.
And, as passed down from generation to generation on your Daddy's side, to you we quote Rudyard Kipling's IF:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
With so much love, we couldn't even have imagined it,
we are so overjoyed that you're here,
and we are so proud to be your
Mom & Dad
4:00 AM
Dear Bucky,
My water just broke (and me, all along saying it wouldn't break . . . your Daddy knew better). I guess this means the end of the Bucky show.
I'm not quite ready for you to leave me yet. I was just getting used to this pregnancy thing. I thought I had more time . . . at least two more weeks (guess Ross was correct again on that one as well). I'm going to miss you, and your kicks, and your hiccups, and talking with you.
I don't know if I'm ready to meet you in person . . . to actually be your Mom, not just your "Bucky holder." Are you going to like us? Can we really do this?
But, the doctor just called us back. To the hospital we go . . . I guess today is really the day. Ready or not, here you come . . .
***
5:00 AM
Ross and I arrive at the hospital and get taken to the assessment room. All the tests they do to prove my water broke come up negative, but since my story is "convincing" they decide to bring out the ultrasound equipment and double check.
Nearly all my amniotic fluid is gone, just a little bit left by Bucky's feet . . . baby will be here within 24 hours. I'm confined to bed so as to avoid any infections. Off to the labor and delivery room we go!
"Ross, we're going to have a baby today!"
"I know . . . it's so crazy."
***
8:00 AM
My sister, who just happens to be in town, arrives at the hospital. I've been put on pitocin to get my contractions going and to make sure Bucky arrives within the allotted 24 hr window. I'm very nervous about this since they say contractions are like climbing a mountain, but with pitocin it's like climbing a cliff. Since I haven't been having painful contractions, I figure I won't know the difference in the end . . .
***
Between 10:00 AM and 1:00 PM
Our local friends stop by the room for pre-delivery visits. They bring Ross and Anna food (the kind that doesn't smell so I don't get angry with them for eating since I am no longer allowed food, just ice chips!!!) and we all laughed about how the night before none of us expected THIS!
On the pain chart I was now feeling like a 3 out of 10.
There are too many people in the delivery room, and our friends are all kicked out by the new nurse on call.
***
3:00 PM
We're now at a 6 on the pain chart. Things are progressing nicely, and the doctors will check my in another hour or two.
***
5:00 PM
Holy cow, the contractions are starting to really bear down. The first year resident says it's time to check me out. His assessment is that I've done really well: 8 cm dilated and about 80% effaced, and baby is in minus 1 stage (just above the pelvic bone. The pelvic bone equals 0 stage). Realizing I had yet to receive any drugs at this time he says I need to make a decision soon about getting an epidural. I think to myself, 'the contractions I can handle, but I bet getting a baby out will be worse than that painful exam . . . what to do.' Then the delivering OB comes in to just take a look herself, and it's revealed that I'm ONLY 4cm dilated, but 100% effaced and baby is in plus 2 stage (past the pelvic bone and into the birth canal).
I lose it, thinking that was the cruelest joke to ever play on a woman in labor and have no qualms about deciding I'm getting that epidural---my energy just flew out the window with the truth of the situation.
***
5:30 PM
9! 9! 9! I've hit the cliff wall. Contractions are tremendous. No wonder people never want to do this again.
The anesthesiologist arrives and I can't even pay attention to his "risks involved" speech.
JUST GIVE ME THE SHOT!
Which he does.
Luckily the doctor allows Ross to stay in the room and I hold on to his arm with both hands. Squeezing one hand for contractions, and one hand for the epidural discomfort.
***
6:00 PM
And then a calm. My lower half is numb. I can not control my legs and it's an eye opening experience . . . My mind uses this new situation help comfort me; to remind me that there are people in this world who live more challenging lives than I do, who have a great deal more strength than I do, and that I'm just trying to deliver a baby. It was a strange correlation to make in the midst of things, but it added beauty and serenity to the situation, and humbled me.
***
6:45 to 9:45 PM
It's time to push. My sister and the nurse hold my legs. Ross counts for me through the contractions. We all actually laugh and joke throughout the hours of delivery.
Somewhere along the road "c-section" floats out of the lips of the resident . . . it inspires me to push harder (and the nurse reassures Ross that we're not even close to making that decision).
Towards the end a different decision has to be made, to use a vacuum or see if I can do it on my own. Bucky is face up, making passing his head through the last bit very difficult as it's the hard part of the skull, not the soft spot that is presented on face down babies. I push a few more times and we make the decision to use the vacuum. I'm tiring out, Bucky is kicking me (seriously) and getting a little stressed . . . it's time to receive a little help.
***
9:46 PM
With one last push and a pull with the vacuum, a feeling of relief comes over me . . .
***
9:47 PM
IT'S A BOY!!!!!!!!
Tears all round . . . it's very overwhelming, we're in disbelief . . . we're parents!
They put Baby Boy Swanes to my chest and Ross and I gaze at our newborn son. New Aunt Anna cuts the umbilical cord. . .
"What's his name?"
"We don't know," I cry. . .
***
10:30ish PM
Dear Jackson Henry,
Welcome to the world! We've been waiting for you!
Do you like your name? Besides our love, it's the very first gift we give to you on your birth day.
We can't believe you're here! You're just so beautiful, so perfect. Our hearts are bursting!
You're worth every moment of pregnancy, every push in delivery . . . I'd do it all over again, again and again, just for you.
And, as passed down from generation to generation on your Daddy's side, to you we quote Rudyard Kipling's IF:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
With so much love, we couldn't even have imagined it,
we are so overjoyed that you're here,
and we are so proud to be your
Mom & Dad
posted by RB at 12:40 PM
3 Comments:
A very nice journal. My favorite part is the change from 5:30 to 6:00. RB showed me your page, congratulations on your creation. May he bring you all the joy you could hope for. And post more pictures.
That is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. Congratulations, you three! (Jackson, I think you're a very blessed little guy!)
Nichole
Dear Clare, my baby girl,
Your posting is so heartwarming. As Grandmother told me when I became a parent, "Now you know what love is." You must realize that you are loved in the same way Jackson Henry is loved.
Dear Ross, my son-in-law,
Congratulations, Dad. What a great husband and father you are. No father-in-law could be happier.
Dear Jackson, my grandson,
Welcome! You are soooo loved! Any time you want to ditch the parents...just call!
Love,
Dad (and Granddad!)
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