Friday, April 10, 2009
Happy 16th Birthday Taran!
Today 16 years ago our oldest son, Taran was born. It was 22 hours of labor. I threw up early morning and the contractions started in. After a few hours and not feeling comfortable at all we went to the hospital. I was one and a wiggle, fantastic! So they told me to walk around the hospital to see if I would start progressing. It was terrible, like a jack hammer on my lower back. Every 15 minutes. Tim would put pressure on it so I would feel some relief. I remember crying in the bathroom, I can't do this! Tim would say yes you can, you have to. Around noon they checked me again and I was barely a two. "Sorry, not much we can do for you--it's just going to get worse anyway." Thanks for the encouragement! They gave me a shot of morphine and sent me home to rest and maybe that would help. We went to my mom's since our apartment stank--I threw up on the carpet. I rested a little, Tim sacked out since he thought I was asleep. I still felt the contractions but I could lay down a bit. Then after 2 hours the pain came back like a vengeance. My mom and Tim put warm/hot washcloths on my back and belly and it helped to get me through the contractions. Then I got up and said, "I need to go the bathroom." I was serious. My mom said to Tim, "she is baring down. She needs to get to the hospital." "What? No, I said they will just send me home. I don't like that nurse." "No you need to go NOW!" So my mom drove while Tim was in the back with me trying to help me feel comfortable--whatever! But at least he tried. When we got there my mom ran in and got a wheelchair for me and Tim parked. My mom took me up and told the nurses I was baring down. They looked at us like whatever, they remembered me. They took me into a room. Checked me, "Oh, my she is complete call the doctor we need an IV and she needs the strep shot..." They were running around like crazy! Finally the doctor arrived wearing fluorescent green goggles-he wasn't my doctor but not much I could do about it. I told him NO episiotomy! But he cut me anyway and Tim said that the nurse made face like oops! It was a huge cut "I saved you a half hour of pushing!" Whatever dork! I had pain for 9 months. Can you tell I am still not over it! :) Anyway, Taran was born we had decided to be surprised so we were to know he was a boy and had red hair! His poor head was shaped like an Egyptian Pharaoh hieroglyphic! He was not a good nurser--that's a story in itself. But we persevered and we loved him and hopefully we didn't make too many mistakes since he was our first. He is an amazingly good person, but shy. Most things have come easy for him so if they ever get rough he wants to quit! He is lots of fun and we are so grateful he has survived 16 years of our parenting! I usually have a recent photo of him from today but I'll save it for another post!