At 2:37 a.m. I woke up and had to use the bathroom. Nothing new being in my due date week. I headed to the bathroom with my eyes half closed. I was so tired after only working half a day but it was a busy half a day, especially being 39/2 weeks pregnant. I was also scheduled to work my last full day early in the morning. I couldn't wait to go back to sleep. I laid back down and wet my pants. What is this? I thought. I headed back to the bathroom which guaranteed Justin's radar to go off.
What I found was textbook. Clear, white flecks, my water had broke but I was in denial. After two weeks of begging my body to into labor I was denying it. I did, after all, have one more day of work before the baby came. I think in my mind I had given up on the fact that he would come before his due date. I had made a new plan to work the 16th, take a few days of rest and be induced by the 21st if he still hadn't come. I brought a towel with me to bed and laid it underneath me. I pulled the covers up and Justin asked what I was doing. "Going back to sleep", I said. "I have to work in the morning."
"Then, what's with the towel and two bathroom trips?", knowing full well what was going on and that his wife might officially be insane. I told him if it happened again, then we'd get up.
About 45 seconds later, it happened again. I knew if I laid down Brice's head would float up a little bit and the "cork" would be removed allowing more fluid out if that was indeed what it was. When it happened the second time, it was for sure. "There it is again.", I said. Justin jumped up and asked if he had time to shower. I wish I had showered. I had no idea how long it would be until I had another shower.
By the time we left the house, the contractions were very mild but I was pretty sure that they had started. By the time they hooked me up to the monitor at Northside, they were 90 seconds apart. Fun. And to top it all off, I was a tenth of the way there. Yes, 1cm out of 10cm. Holy Moly. I wasn't going to make it. I didn't want the epidural yet, my goal had been to make it half way there and then get the epidural. After some deliberating with Justin and the nurse, I was convinced it would be okay. She told me that it wouldn't slow me down which was my fear. She said the way I was contracting, it would probably speed things up. That was all I needed to hear. In came the anesthesiologist and I was a happy girl while Justin was a happy man!
I laid there all morning with periodic checks from the nurse and around noon they told me the pushing was to start. "He should be here in about thirty minutes", the nurse told us. "You've done so well and your body knows exactly what it should do." Well, my body might have known but Brice's body was comfy. He was long for my size and I'm not sure which came first the chicken or the egg. Not sure if Brice's length forced him into my right hip, cock-eyed, before the pushing began or if I pushed him into that position. Either way, we'll never know, and it resulted in me trying to push that kid out for three hours. Three-thirty rolled around and still no Brice.
I had felt this enormous pressure because we had quite the entourage out in the waiting room. My sister had even drove in from Augusta EARLY that morning. Here we were 13 hours later, and I still had nothing to show for all this work. The decision was made that a C-section was now the safest way to deliver for me and for Brice. I wasn't willing to use "tools", aka vacuum or forceps and Brice had tolerated every bit of the labor beautifully, I wasn't going to mess anything up at that point. At 4:45 pm on February 16, 2005, out he came with the most beautiful cry I have ever heard. I was exhausted and all I wanted was to hear my baby cry and know that he was okay. Justin brought him around the OR table for me to see and I was in love. I couldn't believe that such a cute little baby just came out of me.
I had no idea how rough the recovery was going to be. The first couple days I couldn't reach my head without being in pain. And then the pain became emotional. They send you home with your delivery record and on it they mark the reason for the C-section.
FTP= Failure to progress. Failure? I was a failure? But I did progress. I progressed the whole way and did the whole thing except he didn't come that way. It took me a year to get over the fact that I had had a C-section. Really, it did. I read online that this is true for some women. That they do in fact feel like a failure, that they didn't get to experience the baby "leaving their body". And that was it, that was what I was looking for. All I got to see was the big blue OR sheet in front of my face. God took care of that problem when he sent Anna. For that I am thankful. I saw and felt it all!
Even though I would think about Brice's delivery every day during that year, HE never made me feel like a failure. He has everyday given me no reason to doubt that I am not a failure and that I have not failed him. He is a true mix of Justin and I, physically, emotionally, and in his personality. Although he looks more like Justin than me on the outside there are characteristics of mine that I see more and more of. He is a true first born, cautious, responsible, loving, organized. I know every year I will remember that full day I spent trying to bring him into this world. And each year at 4:45pm, we will celebrate another year of success, my first born, My Brice. Happy 6th Birthday, Brice, We Love You!!!