Confession about child birth

I thought I was prepared for child birth.  I had read up on different birthing methods.  I talked to other women that had children.  I became good friends with Google. I told my husband that I did not want meds and if I asked for them his only job was to say "Are you sure"  and stand behind me telling me what a good strong wife I was.  I was going to have a wonderful med free delivery, hear the doctor announce the gender, have my beautiful child placed on my chest, and breastfeed for the first time.  I wanted my two hours with my child before it had to go to the nursery.

My water broke at 11:45 PM on November 15.  I was progressing pretty well for the first hour.  Then I stalled.  Pushing did nothing.  I was passing out and thought I was going to get sick.  I asked for an epidural.  Andrew asked if I was sure and if looks could kill.... well, I'd be a single woman right now.  Andrew couldn't handle the sight of child birth.  He left the room.  I couldn't handle the pain.  I got the meds.  So much for my plan...

I was still certain I was going to deliver the baby vaginally, just on my own.  But around 6 A.M. on November 16, it became pretty obvious that I would need a c-section.  Andrew still couldn't handle the delivery so my mom came to the hospital so I wouldn't be alone.  Andrew had to stand on the outside of the delivery room door and the doctor had to yell "It's a Boy" so we could find out together.  I got to see Jack briefly before he was taken to his dad and the nursery and I was stitched and stapled.   Jack and Andrew came to the recovery room and I was so tired and drugged up that Andrew had to help hold Jack on my breast so I could try to feed him. 

Absolutely nothing happened the way I thought it would.  Almost everything that could go wrong did go wrong.  But I had my son.... my beautiful precious son... the child that we had hoped and prayed for.  He was safe.  I was safe.  Our family was together and my heart was whole.