I’ve been contemplating whether or not to post this on the blog, and although I’m working on a record/keepsake journal for Mia, I figure why not have a back-up floating around in cyber space? Someday she can look back on this blog world to read and re-read the memories we’ve created as a family. I feel honored that some of you have actually asked me to post the birth story so here it is….
To my beautiful daughter; my first born.
Your due date was November 18th/19th, we weren’t quite sure on that one. Going by mother nature’s date you were suppose to come on the 18th, and the ultrasound date said on the 19th. Neither mattered because you had a date of your own planned. I wish I had been a little more patient and had been more accepting to your plan. I just couldn’t wait to meet you and take in every moment of the experience. I kept thinking and hoping that you were actually going to be a little early, what a selfish thing to say coming from mommy huh? We all had little bets going on when you were going to make your appearance. Mommy thought you were going to be a week early, and daddy thought you were going to be a week late. Memaw (grandma Hawkes) guessed the 19th, Vovo (my dad) guessed and kept hoping that the 23rd would be it since it so happens to be his birthday and auntie Patricia guessed the 25th.
Your auntie Tasha was pregnant the same time I was expecting you and your cousin Noah was due 2 weeks after you. I jokingly said to her that with my luck she would deliver before me. I should learn to keep my mouth shut to prevent from jinxing myself so much.. Because that’s exactly what happened. Tasha called me Sunday, November 13th, and said “I have some bad news”.. I felt so bad that she felt bad. There she was in pain about to welcome cute Noah into the world, while at the same time feeling guilty to perhaps hurt my feelings. She’s incredible. I was so happy for her and yet I found myself crying a little bit after we hung up. They weren’t tears of jealousy or hurt, they were mostly sad tears for not having you with us.
The next week was a tough one. I kept going to classes, and everywhere I went people kept saying “Oh wow you’re still here?” “You look like you’re ready to pop”.. What a terrible thing to say to a sensitive pregnant lady on the edge of having meltdowns. There were a couple of times during the week were daddy and I thought for sure that this was the moment, but my contractions would slowly start fading away. We had an appointment that Tuesday and I had my fingers crossed that I had made some progress. I had been at a 2cm 80% dilated for what felt like forever. Sadly, the doctor didn’t have the news that I wanted to hear. I was still at 2cm and 80%. All that walking, yoga, squatting, wishing and hoping didn’t seem to do me any good. For the rest of the week I dreaded going to classes because I hated having to explain my self to classmates and professors. Every time someone would ask me, I could feel my heart tighten a little. I continued to walk, to do the yoga, bouncy ball, eat spicy food, hoping that by the next check up they would miraculously say “Oh you’re ready to check in to the hospital!!”
That weekend we had a surprise party for Brandi (on your actual due date), and on the drive over I started to have some contractions. I kept them to myself for a while, trying to not get my hopes up. About 30 an hour later I couldn’t hide it anymore and told Tyler. I was really excited/nervous/and still pretty calm. We left the party early and called the hospital as soon as we walked into the house. The nurse on call told me to just take a warm shower and some motrin and that if I was still having them in an hour to drive over to the hospital. So that’s exactly what I did, and sure enough they starting fading again. I was a little disappointed and tried not to think about it too much. I told Tyler that at my next appointment I was going to ask them to induce me because I was super duper impatient.
My appointment was set for Tuesday, but because I was so curious and feeling frustrated I called and changed it for Monday. Again, we drove the 45 minutes thinking maybe this is it, maybe she’ll come today… Dr. Brooks checked me and told me I was still at 2% and 85% effaced, but that it was getting closer. He could see I was upset by the news and when I asked if I could be induced he said that they don’t really suggest that unless I’m 7-10 days over the due date, or if baby is in distress, but since we were both healthy the answer was “wait it out“. He said he would go ahead and schedule an induction for the following Monday just in case, and asked what kind of birth control method we were considering postpartum. He left the room and went to go write up some documents for us and as soon as he walked out I started crying. I felt so silly crying, and I knew your dad felt just as upset as I did, and for a minute we just hugged each other. We didn’t need to say much. I came home and missed my after noon class. There was no way I was going to school, feeling the way I did.
The next day I had only one class, an anatomy lab which is from 12:30-3:30. For some reason though I woke up at 7 and went straight to your room. I opened your dressers where I had folded and organized all of your baby clothes. I touched each item imaging you in them. I smelled your blankets, I sat on the rocking chair with a baby book and started reading aloud but found myself silently crying instead. I hated how fragile I had become, I was stronger than that and knew you would eventually come when the time was right. I’m not sure why it was so painful to just be patient. Your dad woke up and came to get me there. He kept reassuring me that everything would be okay and to just start thinking that in less than a week we would have you no matter what. (since they had scheduled an induction).
I didn’t want to go to class, but I sucked it up and decided to not let other people’s remarks affect my mood. As soon as I walked into lab though and my sweet professor asked me how I was doing I stated to cry, only this time real water works. Like hiccup crying. She gave me a hug and when others started walking in she said “No one say anything to Debbie, leave her alone.” It gave me a little more energy and confidence that I not only would do this but that I could!