So... the last few months of my pregnancy flew by... Now I feel as though I didn't have enough time with my little one.
*For those of you who haven't ready my previous posts, my son was placed for adoption with a very loving family, for whom I am very grateful.*
I hated being pregnant. Every second of it. I was the third trimester complainer too. I got huge. I developed tons of little stretch marks that now look like insect larva right around my belly button. I was more hormonal and nasty with my mood swings during the last three months than I had been the entire pregnancy... So hormonal that I almost threw a pint of ice cream at Ian in the middle of Target... I hated not knowing what I would look like after the baby was born, or how I would feel after he was born. And most of all, even though I had many supporters and loving words and basically anything I ever needed; I felt alone.
But, back to why I feel I didn't have enough time...
Let's begin with labor. My whole pregnancy went exactly as planned. I was very healthy and so was Isaac. I gained the exact amount of weight expected. I had no complications. The only thing I complained to my doctor about was the swelling in my hands and then the pain I had in my side, (which turned out to be little Isaac punching and kicking me! I was bruised from the inside out!). Isaac was a trooper and was until he was born. I, on the other hand was not. I woke up on August 11th, 2014... in labor. Right? Like... who does that? So I call my OB's office and OF COURSE my doctor isn't on call this weekend. So I get a different doctor... who literally told me that since this was my first pregnancy, I probably wasn't in labor, it was probably just false labor... To which I said, "yea", and hung up the phone. I had false labor two weeks before. I KNEW this was not false labor! Then POOF! ...Or more like SPLASH! my water broke. My mom's and sister's first reaction, "Should we call the doctor?" Devil Angie came out and through gritted teeth said... "NO. My water is broken. We will go straight to the hospital. They can call that doctor." At this point all I wanted to to was clean up and get this show on the road! I had a wonderful couple that was anxiously awaiting the arrival of this little man! And so was I! Well, on the way to the hospital the contractions jumped from 5 mins apart... two 2 mins apart... plus back labor. Horrible, horrible back labor. Then we got lost trying to find the hospital. Then we got lost in the parking structure. Then we couldn't find the entrance! However, I was pre-registered and got checked and into a LDR quickly. Mind you, this was all at 10am. (2 hours post knowing I was in labor). I will spare you the vivid labor details, but I will let you know that when you have a rotation in your spine an epidural doesn't go in easily. Laying down on your side during a contraction make back labor worse. And "throne position" DID NOT help my labor progress. So, after 16 hours of labor and no progression even WITH 10 hours of pitosin, I spiked a fever which made Isaac's heart rate climb rapidly. And this is where my "normal" labor went fuzzy and crazy and completely wacky and out of my control. This is where I felt helpless and like I was doing a bad job. I started shaking. This sometimes means that labor is progressing... but it hadn't. Then they threw me on oxygen. Then I don't remember anything but terrible pain right in the middle of my back. I couldn't lay down or sit up. Then all of the sudden I'm hearing c-section. And there were more than my normal two nurses in the room... plus the anesthesiologists... and the resident doctor... and now the on- call doctor... the adoptive mom was now in the room and my sister was in the bathroom putting on scrubs. Was this really happening? My perfect pregnancy is now imperfect and its happening right before this perfect adoptive mother's eyes?
I didn't want to see the worry in her eyes. But I had to. There was no special birth where she got to see Isaac be born and cut his cord. My hospital plan went out the window. I was lucky that her and Jenny got to even come into the OR with me. I could feel everything during the procedure. All of the tugging. I could hear all of the beeping and the god awful Dixie Chicks CD the doctor had playing. But, then I heard him cry. And I knew he was ok. He was perfect. It was me who failed him. I couldn't do it. And to top it off... it all seemed to go so fast.
And so I withdrew. I only held him twice before he went home with his new mommy and daddy. I couldn't look at him and think that I did a good job like everyone was telling me. But he was perfect. And now I feel like I did the worst thing possible. Now I feel like he will hate me when he grows up. There is only one picture of me holding him. I hope and pray that he doesn't feel I didn't want him. I hope he always knows that I know this is what was best for him and that it was a loving decision.
I have bunches of pictures of him. All bundled up with cute little hats on and soft blankies surrounding him. All the things I couldn't have given him. I hope he knows that he has everything he needs.
I can only pray that one day he will understand why there is only that one picture. And why Tony and I placed him for adoption. I hope I do get to know him and he gets to know me and understand that I love him. But I also pray that he never resents me and that he never lashes out at his adoptive parents because of my decision. I hope he will always understand that he could never have what he will have and be able to do what he will do in the future if I wouldn't have placed him with an adoptive family. I just hope he knows that I love him, and that even though we didn't have much time together, deep down, he will always be my son.
Isaac- the son of Abraham who was long awaited (the name I chose for him)
Rhodes- meaning the road to roses (to represent his adoptive mother)
He will carry the adoptive parents' last name in a few short months (to represent his adoptive father)
Born: August 11, 2014 at 12:07am.
6lbs, 13.2oz
21 inches long
Perfect.
And that's all I have to say today <3
*For those of you who haven't ready my previous posts, my son was placed for adoption with a very loving family, for whom I am very grateful.*
I hated being pregnant. Every second of it. I was the third trimester complainer too. I got huge. I developed tons of little stretch marks that now look like insect larva right around my belly button. I was more hormonal and nasty with my mood swings during the last three months than I had been the entire pregnancy... So hormonal that I almost threw a pint of ice cream at Ian in the middle of Target... I hated not knowing what I would look like after the baby was born, or how I would feel after he was born. And most of all, even though I had many supporters and loving words and basically anything I ever needed; I felt alone.
But, back to why I feel I didn't have enough time...
Let's begin with labor. My whole pregnancy went exactly as planned. I was very healthy and so was Isaac. I gained the exact amount of weight expected. I had no complications. The only thing I complained to my doctor about was the swelling in my hands and then the pain I had in my side, (which turned out to be little Isaac punching and kicking me! I was bruised from the inside out!). Isaac was a trooper and was until he was born. I, on the other hand was not. I woke up on August 11th, 2014... in labor. Right? Like... who does that? So I call my OB's office and OF COURSE my doctor isn't on call this weekend. So I get a different doctor... who literally told me that since this was my first pregnancy, I probably wasn't in labor, it was probably just false labor... To which I said, "yea", and hung up the phone. I had false labor two weeks before. I KNEW this was not false labor! Then POOF! ...Or more like SPLASH! my water broke. My mom's and sister's first reaction, "Should we call the doctor?" Devil Angie came out and through gritted teeth said... "NO. My water is broken. We will go straight to the hospital. They can call that doctor." At this point all I wanted to to was clean up and get this show on the road! I had a wonderful couple that was anxiously awaiting the arrival of this little man! And so was I! Well, on the way to the hospital the contractions jumped from 5 mins apart... two 2 mins apart... plus back labor. Horrible, horrible back labor. Then we got lost trying to find the hospital. Then we got lost in the parking structure. Then we couldn't find the entrance! However, I was pre-registered and got checked and into a LDR quickly. Mind you, this was all at 10am. (2 hours post knowing I was in labor). I will spare you the vivid labor details, but I will let you know that when you have a rotation in your spine an epidural doesn't go in easily. Laying down on your side during a contraction make back labor worse. And "throne position" DID NOT help my labor progress. So, after 16 hours of labor and no progression even WITH 10 hours of pitosin, I spiked a fever which made Isaac's heart rate climb rapidly. And this is where my "normal" labor went fuzzy and crazy and completely wacky and out of my control. This is where I felt helpless and like I was doing a bad job. I started shaking. This sometimes means that labor is progressing... but it hadn't. Then they threw me on oxygen. Then I don't remember anything but terrible pain right in the middle of my back. I couldn't lay down or sit up. Then all of the sudden I'm hearing c-section. And there were more than my normal two nurses in the room... plus the anesthesiologists... and the resident doctor... and now the on- call doctor... the adoptive mom was now in the room and my sister was in the bathroom putting on scrubs. Was this really happening? My perfect pregnancy is now imperfect and its happening right before this perfect adoptive mother's eyes?
I didn't want to see the worry in her eyes. But I had to. There was no special birth where she got to see Isaac be born and cut his cord. My hospital plan went out the window. I was lucky that her and Jenny got to even come into the OR with me. I could feel everything during the procedure. All of the tugging. I could hear all of the beeping and the god awful Dixie Chicks CD the doctor had playing. But, then I heard him cry. And I knew he was ok. He was perfect. It was me who failed him. I couldn't do it. And to top it off... it all seemed to go so fast.
And so I withdrew. I only held him twice before he went home with his new mommy and daddy. I couldn't look at him and think that I did a good job like everyone was telling me. But he was perfect. And now I feel like I did the worst thing possible. Now I feel like he will hate me when he grows up. There is only one picture of me holding him. I hope and pray that he doesn't feel I didn't want him. I hope he always knows that I know this is what was best for him and that it was a loving decision.
I have bunches of pictures of him. All bundled up with cute little hats on and soft blankies surrounding him. All the things I couldn't have given him. I hope he knows that he has everything he needs.
I can only pray that one day he will understand why there is only that one picture. And why Tony and I placed him for adoption. I hope I do get to know him and he gets to know me and understand that I love him. But I also pray that he never resents me and that he never lashes out at his adoptive parents because of my decision. I hope he will always understand that he could never have what he will have and be able to do what he will do in the future if I wouldn't have placed him with an adoptive family. I just hope he knows that I love him, and that even though we didn't have much time together, deep down, he will always be my son.
Isaac- the son of Abraham who was long awaited (the name I chose for him)
Rhodes- meaning the road to roses (to represent his adoptive mother)
He will carry the adoptive parents' last name in a few short months (to represent his adoptive father)
Born: August 11, 2014 at 12:07am.
6lbs, 13.2oz
21 inches long
Perfect.
And that's all I have to say today <3
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