Right now, nine months ago, I had been laying in a bed hooked up to magnesium sulfate for a week. I hadn’t been up to go to the bathroom in three days and I hadn’t had anything to eat for two. The nurse was telling me I was having stomach cramps because of this. It couldn’t be contractions because they weren’t showing up on the monitor. It had been 10 hours and I was begging for something to make it stop. I feel pretty hardcore now looking back because I was in labor and taking it like a pro. Thank you yoga for helping me learn to breathe and relax! So the shift changed and this older nurse came in. She’s like “honey, you’re having a baby. Machines can’t replace God.” She was so kind. I loved her.
The good nurses were the older ones. I had three or four younger ones that were almost hateful. Ugh. And mama just about slapped one of them because she said she couldn’t talk to me about what was going on but a doctor could. So I asked for a doctor. Which could be any random person because I was so far from home my doctor couldn’t be there. (Its like on TV when one doctor goes around with a bunch of students and props up in the corner while the students are quized over what to do in your situation. They’ve got to learn somehow but I felt like a freaking guinea pig.) When she came in the nurse was rolling her eyes like “i told them this and they didn’t listen”. Mama was halfway across the room before daddy had to grab her.
Back to the story. So my contractions were already off the charts but I was only 3cm and not moving. So they knocked me out for a few hours. I finally got some help with my cervix at 6pm since Kyson was killing me trying to claw his way out. I wouldn’t know cause I was dead to the world. After round three of whatever that stuff was wore off, I was far enough to get that wonderful, holy, beautiful epidural. It was all smooth sailing from there.
And Kyson was born at 11:24 that night. And now he is nine months old today. He’s mastered the art of sitting, crawling, and pulling up all in one month. See there! Therapy my butt!! Hahaha. So that makes his adjusted age 7 months and a week. Right on time like I said. : ) It really has gone by fast. The NICU and the first three or four months dragged by but after that, it’s a wild ride. I want to keep him exactly like he is right now but I can’t. It makes me sad but I’m glad that he’s finally growing and hitting milestones on HIS own time. He’s gonna be tall and skinny like my Papa. I’m so proud of him. And I’m just so happy now because he’s proving everyone wrong.