After much waiting and anticipating, the birth of our firstborn son finally set into motion on May 8th, 2009, his estimated due date.
Around 3:00pm in the afternoon, my water broke. It was a slow, ongoing trickle of fluid rather than the dramatic gush I imagined it would be, and it actually took me a few minutes to be sure that this was the real deal.
Two hours later, while I was watching Top Chef reruns, the first contractions began. I called our doctor and doula, who both told us to hang out at home, try to relax, and wait for the contractions to become more frequent. So I spent the next few hours walking around, making sure our hospital bags were packed, bouncing on an exercise ball, and hanging out with Steve.
Around 10:00pm our doula Karen came over. She coached and encouraged me through each contraction. At 2:30am, contractions started getting more painful, and we headed to the hospital. Upon arrival, I was checked by a nurse. I was 6 centimeters dilated, and 90% effaced. That's medical speak for, "almost there."
Soon, the hard work started, with contractions becoming more intense, like really awful menstrual cramps. It took all my concentration to continue breathing and relaxing. After a while, my body suddenly had a really strong urge to push. The nurse checked, and with surprise said, "You're 10 centimeters dilated and completely effaced!" Someone paged our doctor, who was hurrying to get to us. The nurse said, “Don’t push yet; wait for the doctor.” Withholding my body from pushing took the greatest level of discipline I could possibly muster. Finally, the doctor arrived, and I was told to begin pushing. I pushed like crazy for what seemed like a miserable, burning eternity (though I was later told it was only 15 minutes). Someone said, “Look down, Larissa!” And I saw a beautiful slimy head emerging. Another push, and my body seemed to empty itself.
At 5:19am, our little baby boy was born. He wailed loudly, and was immediately placed on my chest. There he was, looking around through jet black eyes. Aaron was extremely alert, and seemed to be as intrigued with us as we were with him. I was exhausted, but completely overjoyed at the first few moments of seeing our son.
It was pure elation, relief, and delirium. “Hi there!” I said to the small, amazing person in my arms.
Around 3:00pm in the afternoon, my water broke. It was a slow, ongoing trickle of fluid rather than the dramatic gush I imagined it would be, and it actually took me a few minutes to be sure that this was the real deal.
Two hours later, while I was watching Top Chef reruns, the first contractions began. I called our doctor and doula, who both told us to hang out at home, try to relax, and wait for the contractions to become more frequent. So I spent the next few hours walking around, making sure our hospital bags were packed, bouncing on an exercise ball, and hanging out with Steve.
Around 10:00pm our doula Karen came over. She coached and encouraged me through each contraction. At 2:30am, contractions started getting more painful, and we headed to the hospital. Upon arrival, I was checked by a nurse. I was 6 centimeters dilated, and 90% effaced. That's medical speak for, "almost there."
Soon, the hard work started, with contractions becoming more intense, like really awful menstrual cramps. It took all my concentration to continue breathing and relaxing. After a while, my body suddenly had a really strong urge to push. The nurse checked, and with surprise said, "You're 10 centimeters dilated and completely effaced!" Someone paged our doctor, who was hurrying to get to us. The nurse said, “Don’t push yet; wait for the doctor.” Withholding my body from pushing took the greatest level of discipline I could possibly muster. Finally, the doctor arrived, and I was told to begin pushing. I pushed like crazy for what seemed like a miserable, burning eternity (though I was later told it was only 15 minutes). Someone said, “Look down, Larissa!” And I saw a beautiful slimy head emerging. Another push, and my body seemed to empty itself.
At 5:19am, our little baby boy was born. He wailed loudly, and was immediately placed on my chest. There he was, looking around through jet black eyes. Aaron was extremely alert, and seemed to be as intrigued with us as we were with him. I was exhausted, but completely overjoyed at the first few moments of seeing our son.
It was pure elation, relief, and delirium. “Hi there!” I said to the small, amazing person in my arms.
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