Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Scooter has a birthday . . .

Wow, I'm running behind on this post! It's been a crazy couple of weeks and I haven't had the time to sit down, much less write. A week and a half ago, on the 27th, my Scooter-Rooter-Pooter turned 5! FIVE! Five is so big. Even though Scooter's elementary school adventure is still over 4 months away, once your kid turns 5 it feels like they have already officially left preschooler-ness and moved on to big kid.

It's an awesome thing, like a switch is suddenly thrown and your little one isn't little anymore. Technically, I know the growing and maturing have happened gradually, but on the morning after his birthday Scooter suddenly appeared 'bigger' to me. Every few days since as he has come to tell me good morning, I have felt like he is rapidly changing into someone more mature, more aware. The baby-ness is leaving his face and his body is longer and leaner. Maybe it's just because I've been here before. Tyler will be 11 this Saturday and I know just how fast the time has flown since he turned 5 himself. It was just yesterday!

I have shared the other two boys' birth stories with you before, but not Scooter's. I guess it's time. And the thing is, it was my favorite birth for a variety of reasons: I was married and had someone to share it with, it was fast and it had a few humorous qualities (at least to me), and I think also because it wasn't my first I was way more aware of what was happening to me and around me.

When I first discovered I was pregnant, it didn't take me more than 5 minutes to find out that my doctor from having Tyler was not on either Scott's or my insurance plans. I had been visiting my internist for the past couple of years for the basics but I didn't have an official female doctor anymore. I asked everyone I knew for recommendations and that's how I found Dr. P, through a friend. I wasn't sure if I would keep looking or not, but I did get in for an initial pre-natal exam and I ended up loving her so much that I kept her! Just a side note here - Scott came with me to that appointment, but before we met at Presbyterian, he sent me flowers at work, roses. That was the first and last time he had flowers delivered to me, but it was so sweet! Later that night he took me to III Forks to celebrate our new life together as a family and he 'officially' proposed. The ring was supposed to come out with dessert, but the waiter messed up and so it came on a covered dish with our bill, or instead of our bill (I can't remember, but I did have pregnancy brain). Anyway - it was wonderful and romantic and I sobbed like an idiot. Scooter didn't change our plans, but he most certainly accelerated them and I spent my entire first trimester planning and executing a wedding (which I could not have done without sister Asheley and dear friend Mandy who made everything easier and smoother!).

I tell you all this because the whole experience of being pregnant with Scooter was so different than with Tyler for me. It had only been a minute before that I was sure life was just going to be Tyler and me forever. I wasn't going to get married or have more kids, I was just going to be the best mom I could for him. Then I fell in love, got pregnant and married in about a heartbeat and my whole life changed course into something I could not have imagined. I got to share the whole experience with someone that I loved more than anything. I got to share it with Tyler too. I was surprised by both pregnancies and definitely happy both times. My family had been super supportive with Tyler, but I was also a little lonely too, not so with Scooter.

And I had much clearer ideas about what I wanted for the birth experience, more realistic expectations. I was so much more prepared mentally and physically for Scooter to enter the world than I had been the first time. Part of this preparation was thanks to my sweet son, Tyler. When we told Tyler he was going to be a big brother, he was at first a bit unenthusiastic, maybe because he had a little sister at his dad's house and wasn't very impressed with babies in general at that point. However, Tyler is Tyler. He's a thinker. So about an hour later, while we were still in the process of telling our families the news, Tyler came to me with a question: Can I be with you when the baby comes out? Hmmmm. I did the appropriate mom thing and told him that he would probably be with Grandpa in the waiting room, but he could be at the hospital, etc. That would have been enough for most kids I know, but not my Tyler.

Tyler spent my entire pregnancy asking questions and watching birth shows (mostly A Baby Story, so it was pretty G-rated) and repeatedly badgering me about being there for the birth. We read books and I did the best I could to appease him. I had of course read countless accounts of home births and birth center births where siblings were present, but I didn't actually know anyone that took their kids with them into the birthing suite at the hospital. After a while though, I realized Tyler wasn't really going to be put off easily. I talked to my parents and my doctor and my husband. It was finally agreed that as long as Tyler had his own advocate in the room, my sister Asheley, to remove him in an instant if he was uncomfortable or things got scary, and as long as he wasn't a distraction - he could be there. The last few weeks of my pregnancy were filled with Tyler making comments and asking questions about when 'the squeezing' would start since that was how he referred to contractions. It was pretty awesome to me to have Tyler as a distraction. His 'need to know' kept me upbeat and light-hearted about the impending birth. Remembering to accept Tyler for who he is and do what was best for MY kid, helped me deal with the astonished comments and questions from others regarding his planned attendance.

I took a natural birthing class for Scooter as a refresher for myself and as major preparation for my husband. I had caved and gotten an epidural with Tyler which I didn't regret under the circumstances, but I really thought I might be able to go without this time around. The instructor was a little nutty, but she very sweetly volunteered to meet me at the hospital on her day off and give Tyler a private tour of the facilities and birthing rooms as well as a very informative and age appropriate talk about what to expect on D-Day. I am not a martyr. I knew that I could very well decide to get pain meds again if things went a long time, but I also wanted to prepare myself to go without. I am so glad I did, since in the end I couldn't have gotten them if I wanted them. Things just happened too quickly.

Scooter was due on a Sunday, March 26th. I had been having contractions for weeks, and I don't just mean Braxton-Hicks contractions. There were times that I was timing contractions and giving my mom a heads-up that things might be happening soon. I was already making progress and my doctor kept thinking Scooter was going to come early like Tyler had. She did not want me going over 40 weeks at all, so when I hadn't had him by late the week before, she scheduled an induction for Monday, the day after he was due. I was doing everything I could think of to get Scooter moving, but he was not cooperating. On Sunday night, my parents came over for a big steak dinner. What I could eat and when was going to be sketchy the next day so my mom was making sure I was prepared.

Monday is the busiest day of the week in L&D. This is when most emergency inductions and scheduled C-sections happen because they try not to do them over the weekend and very rarely schedule those types of things in the evenings. I guess Doctors like their weekends too. Because of this, I was basically 'on-call' for my induction. I wasn't high-risk and I wasn't two weeks overdue, so I was low on the priority list. I got a call from the hospital during our Sunday dinner telling me that I wasn't going to be in the earliest time slot, but to stay by the phone, don't eat breakfast and they would call me by 7 a.m.

So this is how my day went. The hospital would call and tell me that I was put off again and I should have a small snack right away and then not eat or drink anything for another 2 hours when they would call me again. This is really not how you want to treat a woman who is fully term pregnant and irritable. By the time they called at 1:00 and said this yet again, I was ticked off. I decided that I was going to eat a full lunch, not a snack, and the hospital could kiss my butt. I think at that point I was convinced we weren't being induced that day and it would be the next morning. That might have even been what the nurse had hinted at, but I can't remember. Scott was working from home on the computer and I told him I was leaving and getting lunch. I got myself some McDonald's and drove to the park by my house. I sat in a swing and ate my filet-o-fish sandwich and tried to find some serenity. When I got home, I wasn't mad anymore, just sad. I was pretty sure that we weren't having a baby that day after all, but I knew he was coming eventually so it would be fine. The problem was, I had to keep reliving those same emotions as family and friends kept calling and texting for updates on the situation. I put a movie in the dvd player and I laid down for a rest.

As will commonly happen with a woman in her 100th week of pregnancy, I had to stop the movie for a bathroom break. This was between 2:00 and 2:30, but I don't know exactly. What I do know is that I swung my legs around to try and heave myself out of our couch and as soon as I stood up, my water broke. I yelled for Scott and he had the very predictable moment of shock that something was actually happening. He asked me if I was sure. Ummmm, yep. Pretty sure, see the big circle of wet on the carpet and my drenched pants. I ran to the bedroom to change, grab some pads and towels and was ordering him to grab bags. 'Should you call the doctor? Are you sure it's time?' I did call the doctor who told me to come right in, but we were already on our way out the door at that point. My water had broken with Tyler too and I knew that they were going to tell me to come in right away. Still, I think my attitude and comments were more along the lines of 'Ha! Now the hospital has to let me in!' or something kind of like that.

We drove around the corner to pick Tyler up from school. His teacher was very excited, a grandmother herself and Tyler was one of her favorite kids. I had to go into the school myself, leaking all the way, because Scott had never done a pick up before and had no clue what to do or how to do it. It would have taken longer to explain it all. I didn't care, I was grinning from ear to ear. I was having this baby! Woohoo! The doctor's office wanted me to come to them first (they are in the same building as L&D) to verify that my water had actually broken. This cracks me up since if this has ever happened to you, you know that it's pretty obvious. I know, leaks happen and sometimes you need the verification, but when it's a big gush there is absolutely no question in your mind (happened to me twice), and the thing is, you keep leaking for a while especially if you are having contractions, which I was.

I texted the whole world on our way to the hospital and my phone practically blew up in my hands with the excited responses. It was a little after 3 and most people were planning an arrival at the hospital either after work to await the baby or just wanted to be kept informed. I was having an occasional contraction at this point, but they were not timeable and they were still pretty minor. They were the same kind of contractions I had been having for weeks, annoying but not uncomfortable. We did our check in at the doctor and were sent downstairs for the main show. We spent a while in admitting despite the pre-admission paperwork that had been on file for months (what is up with that - happens every time?!?). By the time we got into the room and I got gowned up and monitored out, it was after 4 and my parents had arrived. I think at that point I figured things could take a while because I still hadn't started active labor. I convinced the nurse that I could really be out of the bed and in the rocking chair in the room which is where I was sitting when my first real contractions hit. This was around 4:30.

I liked being in the rocking chair for labor. I rocked and breathed through my contractions and it was not very long before they were coming very quickly and lasting a long time. I stayed in that chair as long as I could. I know I made a bathroom trip at one point and then the nurse decided that I needed to be back in bed. I was checked and things were pretty far along. And this is where all the details kind of blur together.

I don't remember exactly when everyone arrived in the room, but by the time the baby came it was a packed house. My mother-in-law, mother, sister, Tyler & Scott were all in the room. I do remember that my doctor had come to the room and checked me again just before the contractions started and decided to go home and get a bite to eat before things got rolling. She lives 10 minutes from the hospital and this seemed fine at the time, but we didn't really know what was about to happen. I also remember that I was handling labor just fine until I hit transition and then I wanted drugs, or thought I was not going to make it through a long labor without them. Mom told me I was just in transition, but I thought she was crazy because I had just started labor. She was right though, a couple of horrific contractions later and all I wanted to do was push.

At one point my phone started to ring, I don't remember if it was during transition or after, but I do know that I was thinking and saying 'Who is calling me right now? I am kind of busy!'. It was a well meaning relative or friend who was calling to verify the hospital so they could come down and wait for the baby, they just didn't know that I was already HAVING the baby. Who could have known it would happen so fast?

A couple contractions past transition and I heard my nurse tell my mother that I could not push yet because the doctor wasn't there. I REALLY needed to push so I started arguing with her, because that's just the kind of person I am. I told her she should get the doctor. This is when I found out that Dr. P. had gone home for dinner, thinking she would be at the hospital for a while. 'Get her back here!'

'She's on her way, but you need to wait.'
'I can't wait! Ok, there must be an on-call resident or something - get them in here! I need to push!' Insert lots of moaning as I tried to NOT push.
'The resident is in an emergency C-section, he can't come either'
'What?!!!!?' Insert more moaning and gasping as I start to feel the 'burn' of baby crowning.
Said to nurse:'OK - you're going to need to catch because this baby is coming now!'
Said back to me, very calmly 'I can do that, I've done it before. Dr. P. is right outside the hospital, she's on her way in.'

I calmed down a bit and breathed a bit, but then I was pushing and I couldn't stop.

The doctor flew in and was giving me my prudendal block shot between 2 contractions while the nurse tried to get her scrubs on her. She never did get her mask or goggles on, she barely got her gloves on and the scrubs were not secured over her shoulders. From my first real contraction until Scooter's birth was about 1 hour and 20 minutes, a total of 3 hours from water breaking until birth. Fast.

Everyone was counting for me and let me tell you the image I remember most - it was of my sister and my son, standing behind doctors and nurses beyond my feet and slightly to my left. Tyler was on Asheley's shoulders and they were holding hands. My son was smiling so big that I thought he was going to fly away in happiness and he was counting to ten, just like on the baby shows, waiting for his brother to be born. My sister ended up using Tyler for support instead of the other way around, and I think that is super duper special!

I only pushed through 3 or 4 contractions before Scooter arrived. My doctor almost missed the whole thing but at that point I didn't care one bit. Later she told me that she could hear me arguing with the nurse when I felt the baby crowning through her phone and she was at a light right by the hospital. She was going to run the light since no one was coming but there was a cop next to her and she knew if she got pulled over she wouldn't make it at all. Once Tyler had seen the baby was here, he was pretty much done with the experience and ready for his grandpa to get him a snack from the vending machine in typical 5 year old fashion. People were still en route to the hospital to sit in the waiting room and instead they got to go up to the nursery and watch my baby get his first bath. Scooter was wide awake and rolling around while the other babies around him slept off their doses of epidurals. My prudendal block didn't take effect until after Scooter was born, but it was nice to have the novacaine-like relief in that area for all the after-birth stuff.

The whole experience was kind of like a party really. When I was induced for Riley I joked with the doctor repeatedly to not leave the hospital. She didn't, but my nurse was pretty green and didn't call her right away when I was in transition and she came close to missing the birth again. If there's a next time I am going to make sure my nurse knows right away that chances are once I hit transition, the baby is going to come pretty quickly and she had better take me seriously on that. I was absolutely starving after the birth and all I wanted to do was eat. I was so wired after the natural birth I didn't think I would sleep all night, but after we got Scooter in our room and all the visitors had left, I was exhausted. I was out by 10:30, I think.

Scooter was such an easy baby. My milk came in the second night in the hospital and after he ate, he slept for almost 6 hours. My nurse kept wanting me to wake him up to eat on schedule, but I refused. I explained that he had eaten every 10 minutes for 2 hours and then my milk had started and he had eaten fully on both sides. He was full and this wasn't my first rodeo, thank you very much. She kept waking me up though and asking me to wake the baby. Crazy woman. I finally told her that if he didn't wake up by 6 (he had gone to sleep around midnight) that I would wake him, but he was up and eating by then like a champ. After we got home, he would eat repeatedly between 10 and 11 and get all filled up. Then I would swaddle him up and as soon as he was warm and cozy, he would just zonk out and sleep for 6 hours. It was amazing and so different than my first time around.

The day after Scooter was born, when they came to take his picture, he actually smiled at his daddy. A full smile. I've never seen a newborn do that before. We caught it on film. Smiley (Scott's nickname in college), Junior. At first I thought Scooter looked more like me and my family, like Tyler probably, but as he grew he has looked more like his dad all the time. Occasionally though, I will catch a look on his face that is pure EASTMAN, reminding me specifically of my cousin David - they have the same forehead and eyes.

Anyway, Scooter did his birth just like he has done everything else, ever since. Not until he is darn good and ready and then when he is - he is fully committed and does it fast and furious. I can't believe it's been 5 years already. Most days, it feels like just yesterday we brought him home. Having Scooter naturally made me way more confident about trying Riley's induction without an epidural. I have done it both ways and naturally is very definitely better. It's more intense, of course, but afterward you feel so much better and healing is so much faster. Still, I am no martyr and if those labors had been a lot longer I know I would have probably gone for an epidural again in a second.

So that's it - my last birth story. Scooter had a great birthday, we combined his party with Tyler's so we could just have all the family out once. Big bounce house with slide, hot dogs and Transformer's cake - everything a 5 year old could want!

I asked Scooter the other day if he grew overnight because he looked bigger to me. He said 'Momma, are you crazy? (Idiom that he hears from his dad daily) When I got up this morning I already grew taller in my sleep last night! I told you I grow every day.' True enough, he grows every day whether I can see it or not. So happy I get to watch it happen! What a blessing!

Thanks and God Bless!

Scott Sherwood Barrow III, 'Scooter', March 27, 2006, 5:54 p.m., 8 lbs. 2 oz., 19 3/4 inches.

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